sixty seven

Seven months. Sixty pages. My thesis, “Thorns and All”: A (Re)Examining of Fairytales, Women’s Roles, and Gender Norms, is finished.

I know I talked A LOT about this and probably annoyed a whole bunch of you, but I can’t thank you all enough for the support you gave me. Seriously, it helped keep me sane. 

Jason Todd/ Red Hood X Reader- Sugar Bribery

Yay!! I actually posted something!!!! Now that testing is over, I can finally stop stressing over tests and work on requests!!!  I may still only write one or two per week, but I really don’t know what I’ll do. Also, I’M SO CLOSE TO FINISHING ALL OF MY REQUESTS!!!!  I think I still have at least six, but I’ll check when I post the next request that was sent to me.

Warning: Sexual Themes (Literally only kissing)

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My contribution for the prompt game with @tonystarkstoga. Short and a day later than usual but hey, it’s here now. Be warned, for ridiculousness awaits you!


I choose vodka,” Tony says, his voice deep and serious, leaving no room for doubts or arguments.

“What?”

At least there shouldn’t be room for them. Apparently New York’s newest, crazy, son of a bitch hasn’t gotten the message though. Too bad. Tony almost likes the guy. Or would, if it hadn’t been for the villains’ latest demands.

Tony sighs in exasperation. “I choose vodka,” he repeats, slower this time. He makes sure to convey just how stupid he believes–knows–them to be with his tone, just to piss them off.

He is loveable like that.

“How can you-” Floaty the Conqueror, or whatever his ridiculous bad boy nickname is, trails of in confusion.

“Well, you’ve given me the choice between my team mates’ life and the life of a little kid,” Tony comments with the air of a man who’s been handed a thousand demands just like this one in the last month. “There can hardly be a better choice for a drink then when facing a moral dilemma like this one, can there? They tend to be quite hard on the stomach, you know?” he adds reasonably. “Maybe you should read Kidnapping for Idiots, or else we’ll be having a lot of similarly embarrassing conversations in the future.”

“I suppose that- wait!” Floaty calls out in sudden realisation, “You’re just trying to distract me until you can free yourself!”

“I’m not.”

“You’re not?”

“I’m not,” Tony assures Floaty–and that name sounds too cute, now that he thinks about it, he’ll have to rename the guy or else fighting him will be difficult. “I wouldn’t waste both our times like that. I freed myself half an hour ago, while you were arguing with your bodyguard.”

Floaty pales rapidly and scrambles for his gun. “You’re bluffing!”

“I’m really not,” Tony calmly raises the gun in question. “On a completely unrelated note, you really should have read Kidnapping for Idiots first. I’ll be sure to have a copy delivered to your cell. It’s got an entire chapter dedicated to me, right under the bold DO NOT KIDNAP line. But I suppose experience is its own kind of teacher after all.”


Later: “Sixty-seven minutes? You’re losing your touch, Tones,” Rhodey shakes his head in mock disappointment.

“Nah,” Tony smirks, all smug satisfaction. “It was pretty fun, seeing Natasha dangling in the air like that, spitting mad but unable to do anything but plan murder. Poor Floaty though, I don’t think he’ll even make to the prison.”

8

every series of doctor who [1/9] →  series one

Do you know like we were saying, about the earth revolving? It’s like when you’re a kid, the first time they tell you that the world is turning and you just can’t quite believe it ‘cause everything looks like it’s standing still. I can feel it. The turn of the earth. The ground beneath our feet is spinning at a thousand miles an hour. The entire planet is hurtling around the sun at sixty seven thousand miles an hour. And I can feel it. We’re falling through space, you and me, clinging to the skin of this tiny little world.

derrekshales  asked:

congrats on the followers zoë!!! i'm terrible with prompts but if you could do something for andreil + dealing with the press (make it as angsty as you want) that would be great :) (sorry this is super vague i know) - kayleighsday

thank you!! this is a great prompt and i spent way too long thinking about it and trying to get it right! i really hope you like it!

——

It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. Neil wasn’t sure exactly how it was supposed to happen but he knew this was all wrong. Perhaps it would have been in an interview, him and Andrew sat side by side, or maybe a statement at the end of a game. It wasn’t a picture of the two of them in a dark corner of Eden’s Twilight plastered against the front cover of every gossip magazine in the country, their names trending on every social media site. It certainly wasn’t countless reporters and paparazzi camped outside their flat, chanting his name as though calling him to a sacrifice.

They’d been stupid. They’d thought they’d be safe in Columbia. They’d always been safe in Columbia, the flashing lights and the loud music of Eden’s Twilight hiding a multitude of sins. Not that they were hiding. Not that they were sin. It was easier though. Simple. He’d once told Nicky “our relationship is ours, not theirs” when he’d asked Neil whether he cared that Andrew displayed nothing other than complete apathy towards him in public the majority of the time. Now though? Well now their relationship was the whole country’s, the whole world’s, and it made him feel sick to pit of his stomach.

He’d called Andrew the second he’d seen the first news article. “Don’t leave the flat” was all Andrew had said before he’d hung up. He’d be back as soon as he could. Neil knew that but he also knew he was thirty minutes away and that he had to get through the crowd which stretched from their front door down to the road and across it, causing a build-up of cars as they blocked the road in their desperation to be the first to get a statement from either he or Andrew. Thirty minutes was too long to be left with nothing but his own thoughts for company and so he’d done something he rarely did. He’d retrieved the unopened bottle of vodka in the fridge.

He’d always used to wonder how Kevin could drink the stuff like it was water. He’d judged the striker for the way he’d turn to alcohol the first time anything got difficult, drowning his fears rather than facing them head on. Neil has spent his childhood running. The Foxes had put a stop to that, had given him a reason to stay and a reason to fight even when his fears threatened to swallow him whole. He couldn’t face this fear though because this wasn’t just about him. This was about Andrew. He would do anything to keep Andrew safe and he’d failed.

In the end, Andrew somehow managed to make it home in twenty minutes. It may have been sooner than expected but it was enough time for Neil to get through more of the vodka than he should have. When Andrew came through the front door, Neil was slumped on the sofa, the bottle in one hand and his phone in the other. He’d never been good at leaving wounds to heal. Maybe that’s why he’d found himself searching their names and scrolling through the countless articles, countless comments, countless tweets about them. Even when Andrew silently crossed the room he couldn’t stop himself from poking at the injury. Every word he read had the knife in his chest twisting a little more, the hand around his lungs squeezing a little tighter, the sickness in his stomach growing a little stronger. It didn’t matter if the words were positive or negative, each one elicited the same response. They should never have been written. They should have never known.

The sofa dipped as Andrew sat beside him but he still didn’t speak. The only noise he made was one of disgust as he ripped the phone from Neil’s hand and sent it skidding across the floor away from them before leaning forward to take the bottle. Lifting it to his lips, he took a swig of it only to then put it on the floor, out of reach. And then he did what Andrew did best. He sat in silence and stared straight ahead. His hands were resting on his thighs, fingers slightly curled as they dug into his skin through his jeans. Neil took in every tense line of Andrew’s body. The hard set to his shoulders, the clenched jaw, the unblinking stare. It was a position Neil knew well but it had never been directed at him before.

Seconds ticked by. He counted them in his head. When he reached sixty-seven Andrew still hadn’t spoken to him. The silence was killing him.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I—”

“If you wanted sympathy, you should have phoned Nicky.”

It was a no more blunt statement than anything Andrew usually said but here, now, on the wrong side of a bottle of vodka and with the sounds of the reporters outside seeping in to their home, the harshness had him flinch. Their relationship wasn’t one of crying on each other’s shoulders and it wasn’t one of telling each other everything was going to be okay. They dragged each other up off the ground, put themselves back on their feet and pushed themselves to keep walking when all they wanted to do was give up. It was an acknowledgement that no, everything might not be okay, but it was better than the alternative and at least they were together.

Usually it was what he wanted. Today, though, he needed a little softness.

“Andrew…”

For the first time since arriving home, Andrew turned to look at him. Really look at him. It was as if Andrew could read his mind just by looking at his face. Perhaps he could; Neil didn’t know what truths his fears and the vodka had painted on his expression. Whatever Andrew saw, it had him reaching out and roughly pulling him forward into a hug. Neil kept his hands at his side but he buried his face against Andrew’s shoulder.

“Do you remember when they found out about Nathaniel?”

Neil nodded once.

“Do you remember when they found out about Drake?”

Another nod, smaller this time.

“Do you remember when they found out about Seth? Or the ski trip? Or Moreau leaving? Or any of the other shit that happened?”

A third nod.

“They’re vultures. They pick at the bones until there’s no meat left and then they move on.”

Silence for a few seconds and then, “I didn’t want them to find out like this.”

“We don’t always get what we want, Josten. You know that as well as I do.”

Neil pulled back just enough to look up at Andrew’s face. “What are we going to do?”

“What we always do. We’re going to keep going.”

——

send me your aftg prompts

Hi I’m Patti Ann LuPone and I have short dark brown hair(it’s like a bowl cut) and deep dark brown eyes and a lot of people tell me that I am like Mama Rose (AN: if you don’t know who she is get da hell out of here!). I am in no way related to Mandy Patinkin but I wish I was cause he’s a major fucking hottie. I’m Italian but I wasn’t born in Italy. I’m also an actress, and I went to a performing arts conservatory called Juilliard in New York where I graduated at (I’m sixty-seven). I’m Italian (in case you couldn’t tell) and I don’t know how to dress myself. I love stealing from dressing rooms and I get all my clothes from them. For example today I was wearing a long leather jacket over yelllow polka dots and a long white skirt with white sandals. I was wearing black eyeliner and peach lipstick. I was walking onstage it was dark and poorly lit, which I was very happy about. A lot of people had their phones out. I put up my middle finger at them.

Intertwined

Originally posted by j-murphy

A/N: So this was not requested, I just wanted to write it. It was inspired by the ever amazing @bookofreid, who sometimes whips out stories like these.

I am aware that love or a relationship doesn’t always magically fix everything. But right now, I’d like to hope that I can one day find a Spencer Reid to give me the excitement to get out of bed. 


Spencer Reid walked into her life when she was at her lowest. She was merely existing, her whole body feeling like an empty shell, numb to all feeling.

Spencer saw her from across a coffee shop, and observed how she smiled at strangers, although she became expressionless and lost in her own thought when she believed that no one was looking. When she made eye contact with him, she grinned, and he found himself entranced. Every day he returned to that coffee shop, making a detour from his work so that he could begin his day with her smile engrained into his mind.

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keeping count (losing count)

This started as a headcanon, but got a little long for bullet-points, so here we go. A little meandering from my tired brain on Flintwood. I don’t do Valentine’s Day, so this is belatedly in lieu. Dedicated to the lovely Flintwood squad at large.

Premise: Marcus uses numbers to manage anxiety. He keeps count of their kisses. One day, he slips, and he says the number out loud.


Kissing Oliver is always different each time for Marcus. He keeps count, and he isn’t sure if it’s because he doesn’t know how else to cope, or if it’s because each one bears remembering. It might well be both. Numbers help him to keep the chaos in his head ordered in the same way that Quidditch strategy does. He’s never told anyone. He never plans to.

There’s the first time, when their blood is boiling mid-argument; there’s a cut on Oliver’s lip and Marcus’ eye is swollen from where the other punched him. Oliver’s mouth tastes like blood when he closes in, firstly just wanting him to shut up, to stop talking, to stop being so tempting and beyond reach, to just stop, but then Oliver yanks his head back and bites his lower lip, turns what should have conquered him into silence into yet another challenge. Marcus is really, really bad at resisting challenges. As it turns out, he’s even worse at resisting them when they come in the form of a Gryffindor Quidditch captain, whose hair is always a mess and who, as it turns out, makes not kissing him seem like a sin.

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I did it.

Put me on the list, I’m a sinner.

Irina Katsuki-Nikiforov is starting to go grey, and Yuri has no sympathy for her even though she has made a point of pulling the little silver hairs out of her head and waving them in his face.

“I’M DYING,” she screeches, always Viktor’s daughter even though she could be a Katsudon-clone.

“We’re all dying,” Otabek says into his teacup, and squints harder at the squirrel in the tree outside the window. Otabek and that squirrel have been engaged in a battle of wills for so long that it might now be Otabek and that squirrel’s grandson. “Some of us at a faster rate than others.”

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Stone Cold Sober

Who: Chris Evans
What: Inspired by Say You Won’t Go by James Arthur

“I’m so in love with you
And I hope you know
Darling, your love is more than worth its weight in gold
We’ve come so far my dear
Look how we’ve grown”

“I wanna live with you
Even when we’re ghosts
‘Cause you were always there for me
When I needed you most”

It had been a rough year.

Chris was in way over his head with everything that he had signed up for. In the sense of trying to juggle his work life with his personal life. He thought he could handle both but his personal life just seemed to slip through his fingers. It had been a few months since he had spoken to his sisters and brother and even longer with his mother. It was rare for him to get lost in his work. Chris had always stressed that family was important in keeping him grounded. 

He knew his family would understand, because this was what he wanted to do. This was who he was. Chris hardly felt guilty when it came to his family because in the end, he knew that they would always be there for him. The only person he was worrying about was [Y/N]. Chris felt as if it had been an entire year since he got to sit down with her and talk about random things, the kind of conversations he fell in love with. 

And in retrospect, it had been a year since their last dinner date. 

Chris had captured [Y/N]’s attention about four years ago and despite their very busy schedules, they always made time for each other. They had an understanding. Work came first because anyone that was part of the film industry knew that whether or not they wanted to admit it. Work was number one until it was time to dock it further down the list. And they had both agreed that day would come when children were involved because [Y/N] was just as passionate about kids as he was. 

But, it had been sixty-seven days since he had physically seen [Y/N]. And he craved her touch, her kisses, the way she’d dig her nails into his back, and more importantly her laugh. Chris wasn’t entirely romantic, he had good intentions but it just wasn’t him and he loved that [Y/N] didn’t expect much. Because when he would, he’d get her a single flower and present it to her with a kiss and a sincere, “I love you so much.” And it reminded her just how much she loved him, not that she really ever needed a reminder. 

So, here was. In the middle of their kitchen. A little white stuffed bear holding a single red rose with a bottle of her favorite wine sitting on the counter top. Chris had managed to get off a few days earlier than he thought and he wanted to surprise the love of his life. He forgot what it felt like to be happy in the arms of his girlfriend. He heard the jingling of keys, sitting up straight, he waited for her to enter the kitchen. 

To say Chris startled her was an understatement. [Y/N] thought her heart was about to leap out her chest. Clutching her chest and leaning against the counter, she gasped. “Holy shit.” Regaining her composure, she spotted the stuffed animal and wine, “I thought you weren’t coming home until Thursday?” 

He moved towards her, cupping her face in his hands. Relishing her scent and warm cheeks. “I wasn’t until I moved a few things around.” Chris kissed her gently, “I missed you, bug.” 

She chuckled at the sound of her nickname, how she got it was beyond her knowledge. “I missed you too.” Wrapping her arms around him, she squeezed him tight. “I’m glad you came home early, we would have only seen each other for less than a day before I would have to go out to New Zealand.” [Y/N] would be lying if she said that she didn’t hate this past year. It was hard not seeing Chris for more than a week before the either of them would have to run off to the other side of the world. But relationships were all about compromise and commitment and she’d be damned if she was going to let the only man she ever loved slip from her fingers because of distance. 

He pressed a kiss to her head, “I’ve been thinking about us.” 

[Y/N] wasn’t sure if she liked the tone in his voice, pulling slightly away, she frowned. “Do I need a glass of wine for this?” 

Chris laughed, his hand reaching for that signature spot. “Baby, no, it’s not a bad thing but I wouldn’t say no to a glass.” 

Turning her frown upside down, she nodded and pulled away from him completely. In a few quick seconds she was back with two glasses and a bottle opener. She handed him the opener and graciously took the bottle from his hand once he popped the cork. Pouring a generous amount in each glass, they toasted to finally spending time together. 

“Now, what’s got that mind thinking?” She asked.

Taking a sip, he gave a gentle smile. “I miss us. I thought I could handle us and work but I don’t think I did a very good job.” 

“You didn’t but you know I don’t mind.” Frowning, she shrugged. “I mean I would have liked to see you more but I understand. It comes with the job, you know. We both knew what we were getting into when we snuck off that night.” [Y/N] reminiscence back to that night where the two of them got so unbelievably drunk at an after-party that they ended up in her hotel room with their clothes all over the floor. She had never met someone that she could get along with so well then Chris. They instantly clicked when they were sober and things got even better when they were drunk. It was inevitably once the pair finally met, it was almost like love at first sight. 

“Yeah, but that’s the thing.” Chris groaned. He set down his glass of wine and cupped her face again, his body pressing against hers which caused her hips to collide with the counter. “We work way too much. I almost forgot what it felt like to be with you. If we weren’t face-timing or texting, it was almost as if I was single. Not that I went out, because you know I didn’t but that’s what it felt like. I don’t fucking like it. 

I’ve been with you for four years and hell, [Y/N] it’s been the damn best four years of my life. It’s unreal how lucky I am to have you. I love you so fucking much that you have me wrapped around your fingers.” He let his hands fall from her face and to her waist. “I want to focus on us, I want to feel us, I want to feel you. Work is just work but when I’m with you, it’s like a whole nother world.” 

[Y/N] looked in his eyes, searching for some kind of explanation for this. “So let’s focus on us. Let’s take a vacation.” 

Chris shook his head, “No, baby. I want to marry you.”

[Y/N] choked a little, had she heard him right? Did Chris just say that he wanted to marry her? “Marry me?” She asked in disbelief.

Chris laughed again, throwing his head back. “Yes, baby. You.” He pulled her in close, nipping her lips for a moment. “You and I have been to hell and back. You were there for me whenever I needed you. And I like to think that I’ve done the same for you. I don’t want to do that for anyone else but you. I want to wake up every single morning knowing that I have you for the rest of my life. I want to rush home from the airport because I know I’ve got my favorite girl waiting for me with our kids. I want to start this life with you, [Y/N]. No one else. I want to love you with every bit of my soul because being away from you this past year was rough.

And I don’t know if doubts ran through your head or not but I want you to know that I don’t ever want to see you walk out our door with your bags packed for good. I can take it if you’re leaving me to come right back when you’re finished with work but never for good.” He placed a tender kiss on her lips, breathing her in. “I love you so much.” 

[Y/N] melted into his kiss, her hands gripping his upper arm. “I love you so much.” 

Baby Boy//Scott McCall

Characters: Scott McCall, Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski, Reader.

*REQUESTED*

Originally posted by strangerprince

“I’m just so hot. What is the thermostat on?” Scott peels his shirt off, revealing a sheen of sweat on his chest.

You get up and check, “Uh, sixty-seven. Scott, it’s freezing in here.”

“It’s on sixty-seven? It feels like ninety.” He pants as he turns the fan on himself.

“Well…are you sick? Maybe your fever is breaking if you had one.”

“No, Y/N. I don’t get sick.” He groans, “It’s just so hot.”

Derek walks in the front door and looks over at Scott sprawled out on the couch before laughing. “You’re in heat.”

“What?” He sits up, “Like a dog?”

“I mean…” You say lowly, earning a dirty look from both Scott and Derek.

“Yeah, it happens once or twice a year, it gets better with time.” He sits a book down on the coffee table. “I just came by to drop this off. I should probably go. Scott?”

“Yeah?”

“Let someone know if it’s too strong.”

He looks confused, “If what’s too strong?”

“The heat. Trust me, you’ll know.” He walks out the door leaving the two of you very confused.

Scott came over the next day to talk to you about a new discovery. Stiles and Lydia were supposed to come later so the two of you were waiting.

You were sitting on the couch with your legs cross-crossed when Scott scooted over to you. He laid his head on your shoulder and you smile.

“Not hot anymore?”

He laughs, “I’m a little warm. Not as hot as I was.” He moves head into your lap and you reach down, running your fingers through his hair.

“You’re being very sweet, McCall.” You look down at him.

He rolls over and looks up at you, “Am I usually not?”

“You’re always nice to me, but you’re extra nice today.” You smile as you push some hair from his forehead.

Stiles and Lydia walk in and Stiles grins. “Should we go?”

Scott rolls his eyes, “Just get in here.”

The whole time the two are there Scott doesn’t break contact with you, he’s either laying with his head in your lap and he’s got an arm around you.

“Alright, well, we’re going to go and let you get back to whatever this is…so bye.” Stiles stands up and raises an eyebrow before leading Lydia out the door.

The next day you all had to meet up in the woods. Scott spent the night with you, your parents didn’t even think much when he slept on your floor.

“Y/N!” Scott shouted, jogging up to you. He gave you a big hug and you smiled.

“What was that for?”

“I just missed you.” He laughed.

“Scott, I love this little thing you’re doing but you left my house thirty minutes ago.”

He shrugs and pulls away, replacing his hug with an arm around your shoulder. He leads you to the rest of the pack.

“The lovebirds finally decide to show.” Derek smirks.

“Sorry, we woke up late.” You smile.

“Oh, I bet.” Derek says quietly before resuming his conversation with Lydia.

Scott moves behind you and puts both of his hands over your shoulders. You reached up and put your hand on top of one of his and he kissed the side of your head.

Later Derek pulled Scott aside, you couldn’t hear what they were saying but Scott looked angry. He started walking towards you, reaching out.

“No, I get it Derek. You’re telling me I can’t be affectionate with my girlfriend.” He grabs your hand and intertwines your fingers.

“Not at all, I’m telling you that you’re already dangerous.”

“Because I love her? Get a life.”

“Scott, you’re too attached already. You have to be careful with heat. If you get too close to her you’ll end up hurting her.”

“Whatever, Derek.” He started to lead you to the car when Derek grabbed his shoulder, he pulled his hands behind his back and you stepped away.

“Derek, don’t hurt him.” You warn.

Scott’s eyes flash and he turns to look at Derek before emitted a low, aggressive growl. “Let. Me. Go.”

“No. You’ll thank me later, Scott.”

“Baby, it’s okay. It’s for your own good.” You cupped his cheek and he immediately calmed at your touch. “It’ll just be a day or two, right?” You look at Derek and he nods. “See? We can do it.”

You peck Scott on the lips before looking into his eyes. “I love you. It’ll be okay.”

“You should probably go, Y/N.” Derek says.

You slip your keys out of Scott’s pocket, “Bye. I love you.” You start to head towards your car.

“I love you too, Y/N. Be careful.”

You felt bad for leaving him once you got home, and the two days you were away from him were agony. Derek called and said it was okay to come over and that Scott was at the loft.

You arrived and walked right in, Scott leaping up off the couch at the sight of you. “Baby!” He grins and he walks over before enveloping you in a hug.

“Hey, Scotty. I missed you.” You lean up and kiss him.

“I missed you too, bug. All I wanted was to see you. Derek wouldn’t even let me FaceTime you.”

“I’m all yours now. My mom and dad went out of town for a work meeting so I’ll be with you all weekend.”

“Thank God.” He picks you up and kisses your nose. “Derek told me I was being too clingy.”

You smile, “I love when you’re clingy. So, it was nice.” You giggle.

“I told you, Derek.”

He shrugs, looking unbothered, “Honestly, I couldn’t care less.”

He carries you out the front door. “Come on, baby. I’ve wanted nothing more than to lay down and cuddle you.”

1000

21000 = 10 715 086 071 862 673 209 484 250 490 600 018 105 614 048 117 055 336 074 437 503 883 703 510 511 249 361 224 931 983 788 156 958 581 275 946 729 175 531 468 251 871 452 856 923 140 435 984 577 574 698 574 803 934 567 774 824 230 985 421 074 605 062 371 141 877 954 182 153 046 474 983 581 941 267 398 767 559 165 543 946 077 062 914 571 196 477 686 542 167 660 429 831 652 624 386 837 205 668 069 376 — ten novemnonagintillion, seven hundred fifteen octononagintillion, eighty-six septennonagintillion, seventy-one sexnonagintillion, eight hundred sixty-two quinnonagintillion, six hundred seventy-three quattuornonagintillion, two hundred nine trenonagintillion, four hundred eighty-four duononagintillion, two hundred fifty unnonagintillion, four hundred ninety nonagintillion, six hundred novemoctogintillion, eighteen octooctogintillion, one hundred five septenoctogintillion, six hundred fourteen sexoctogintillion, forty-eight quinoctogintillion, one hundred seventeen quattuoroctogintillion, fifty-five treoctogintillion, three hundred thirty-six duooctogintillion, seventy-four unoctogintillion, four hundred thirty-seven octogintillion, five hundred three novemseptuagintillion, eight hundred eighty-three octoseptuagintillion, seven hundred three septenseptuagintillion, five hundred ten sexseptuagintillion, five hundred eleven quinseptuagintillion, two hundred forty-nine quattuorseptuagintillion, three hundred sixty-one treseptuagintillion, two hundred twenty-four duoseptuagintillion, nine hundred thirty-one unseptuagintillion, nine hundred eighty-three septuagintillion, seven hundred eighty-eight novemsexagintillion, one hundred fifty-six octosexagintillion, nine hundred fifty-eight septensexagintillion, five hundred eighty-one sexsexagintillion, two hundred seventy-five quinsexagintillion, nine hundred forty-six quattuorsexagintillion, seven hundred twenty-nine tresexagintillion, one hundred seventy-five duosexagintillion, five hundred thirty-one unsexagintillion, four hundred sixty-eight sexagintillion, two hundred fifty-one novemquinquagintillion, eight hundred seventy-one octoquinquagintillion, four hundred fifty-two septenquinquagintillion, eight hundred fifty-six sexquinquagintillion, nine hundred twenty-three quinquinquagintillion, one hundred forty quattuorquinquagintillion, four hundred thirty-five trequinquagintillion, nine hundred eighty-four duoquinquagintillion, five hundred seventy-seven unquinquagintillion, five hundred seventy-four quinquagintillion, six hundred ninety-eight novemquadragintillion, five hundred seventy-four octoquadragintillion, eight hundred three septenquadragintillion, nine hundred thirty-four sexquadragintillion, five hundred sixty-seven quinquadragintillion, seven hundred seventy-four quattuorquadragintillion, eight hundred twenty-four trequadragintillion, two hundred thirty duoquadragintillion, nine hundred eighty-five unquadragintillion, four hundred twenty-one quadragintillion, seventy-four novemtrigintillion, six hundred five octotrigintillion, sixty-two septentrigintillion, three hundred seventy-one sextrigintillion, one hundred forty-one quintrigintillion, eight hundred seventy-seven quattuortrigintillion, nine hundred fifty-four tretrigintillion, one hundred eighty-two duotrigintillion, one hundred fifty-three untrigintillion, forty-six trigintillion, four hundred seventy-four novemvigintillion, nine hundred eighty-three octovigintillion, five hundred eighty-one septenvigintillion, nine hundred forty-one sexvigintillion, two hundred sixty-seven quinvigintillion, three hundred ninety-eight quattuorvigintillion, seven hundred sixty-seven trevigintillion, five hundred fifty-nine duovigintillion, one hundred sixty-five unvigintillion, five hundred forty-three vigintillion, nine hundred forty-six novemdecillion, seventy-seven octodecillion, sixty-two septendecillion, nine hundred fourteen sexdecillion, five hundred seventy-one quindecillion, one hundred ninety-six quattuordecillion, four hundred seventy-seven tredecillion, six hundred eighty-six duodecillion, five hundred forty-two undecillion, one hundred sixty-seven decillion, six hundred sixty nonillion, four hundred twenty-nine octillion, eight hundred thirty-one septillion, six hundred fifty-two sextillion, six hundred twenty-four quintillion, three hundred eighty-six quadrillion, eight hundred thirty-seven trillion, two hundred five billion, six hundred sixty-eight million, sixty-nine thousand, three hundred seventy-six (302 digits, 4085 characters)