robin winced as nancy’s thumb brushed against the already scabbed cut near the corner of her bottom lip, but the pain was quickly overshadowed and chased away by the intimacy of the action. nancy was unsurprisingly close, sat cross-legged and knee-to-knee opposite her on the bed in steve’s guest room, and now she leaned closer still, eyes narrowed and brow knitted into an adorable frown as she scrutinized robin’s split lip. “we’ll have to keep an eye on this one too,” she mumbled, shaking free a fresh antiseptic wipe and gently cleaning the wound in question. robin tried not to wince a second time, digging her dirty nails into bare legs; nancy’s doing.
she’d firmly insisted, seemingly determined to catalogue every bruise and scratch on robin’s body, and robin had caved sooner rather than later despite her embarrassment, leaving her in just her underwear -- including the undershirt nancy had brought from home that was just a little too small and persisted in exposing robin’s midriff despite her attempts to cover it. she didn’t realize she’d been holding her breath until nancy moved away to dispose of the wipe, exhaling deeply through her nose. it was funny, except not even remotely, to think that she turned into a bloodthirsty killing machine once a month, and yet here she was, scared half to death of a pretty girl getting close enough to hear her breathe.
before, robin had been able to convince herself that all the nerves were simply because she didn’t want to hurt nancy, but now that nightmare had become a grueling reality and would undoubtedly haunt her forever, she had no choice but to face the harsh truth: she’d already let nancy get too close; she’d already let herself get too close. she’d always kept away from others, and that went doubly so for girls. when it came to them, there was more than just the threat of the wolf to contend with, and she was just as likely to get hurt as they were. it was why she was so good at avoiding people; at keeping her distance and to herself. well, that had been until steve. until nancy.
robin watched as she turned back, shuffling plasters, head bowed and her face shrouded by chestnut curls. her sleeve lifted slightly as she moved, and robin frowned, hand shooting out to wrap around nancy’s wrist, gentle but firm, making her jump. “what’s that?” robin asked quietly despite already knowing the answer. nancy went stiff, glancing down to where robin’s calloused fingers were resting against her skin and the telltale strip of bandage peering out from under her shirt.
“it’s nothing,” she lied, looking back up when robin’s grip tightened in concern before she let go altogether. her eyes met nancy’s a second later, a guilty shade of blue. something sharp ran nancy’s heart through.
“it was me...” robin whispered, her voice trembling, indiscernible if nancy hadn’t been close enough to hear the difference; to reach out and cradle robin’s face in her hands; to press their lips together and kiss her softly, slowly, then place a loving one to every broken inch of her freckled skin. “wasn’t it?”
nancy shook her head. “no,” she said, taking robin’s hands in her own and holding them tight. “no, you would never.” robin lowered her head, eyes squeezed shut, fending off tears. she knew what she’d done. it was why she’d fled into the woods in the first place, covered in blood, with no intention of coming back out; so be it if she had to die to keep nancy safe from the monster she would always become. it was a price robin would gladly pay for her. “the werewolf isn’t you. you are so much more. clever and caring and so unbelievably brave. i know you would never hurt anyone. i know you would never hurt me.”
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After Thanos, after everything, Scott Lang started to come around the Avenger’s Compound more often. You knew him from before the Blip, but the closer you and Scott become, the more you see that he’s more than a charming comic relief. Like you, like everyone else, he’s lost so much that he can’t get back. Together you decide to start to focus on the things that matter.
AN: I don’t write for Scott often, but when I do, the fics are always longer than intended! Happy reading my friends!
“What are you doing here, Lang?” Rhodey asked, with his arms crossed over his chest as he eyed the man standing, rather sheepishly, before you both.
“I’m an Avenger. I can be at the compound, made for Avengers. It’s not a crime...right?”
You stifled the laughter that threatened to spill out of your mouth when you saw the shocked and sincere worry in Scott’s wide eyes. Rhodey, who stood beside you, heard the choked chuckle and gave you a sideways glance. You met his dark eyes and felt heat rise up to your cheeks. To quickly recover yourself, you took a deep breath and focused coldly back on Scott. Though, you didn’t miss the upward quirks of a smile that played on his lips.
“You still have to let us know when you’re going to stop by,” you explained, “so we can call off the missiles.”
Satisfied with your cool, collected response, Rhodey shifted his gaze back to Scott and added, “plus, doesn’t Pym have his own little workshop for you and your ant buddies?”
“Nature is our workshop,” Scott fired back, arms extended out towards the plant life that surrounded the compound. “But I like air conditioning, so...”
“Didn’t answer my question,” Rhodey noted, but he turned around nonetheless. “Just try not to touch Banner’s stuff, or mine for that matter.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Scott called after Rhodey as the man disappeared down the hall. “Is he always like that?”
You traced Scott’s gaze with your own and watched Rhodey turn into his workstation. The door slid shut behind him, safely locking him away with his armor. When you looked back to Scott, you found his hazel eyes waiting, fixed on you. It took all you had to shake your head in response and break away from the strange lure of his attention.
“No, not always,” you frowned, “just since Tony.”
“Oh, shit, yeah,” Scott shook his head, “sorry. I didn’t...yeah.”
A moment of strained silence passed between you and the Ant-Man. It was all too reminiscent of the last time you saw each other: Tony’s funeral. It was quiet that day, and Hope had been on Scott’s arm. When he saw the two together, Sam had nudged your shoulder and gave you a sorry look. You still denied the reason as to why.
“Let me show you one of our labs,” you said after you cleared your throat. “With everyone...scattered right now, most of them are empty.”
“Scattered? The team isn’t together?” Scott asked as he followed you down the hall. You glanced over your shoulder and saw him glance through the windows into every room, searching for something, someone. “Where is everyone?”
“Everywhere,” or dead, you were tempted to add, but bit your tongue and kept pace. “A few stop by sometimes, for repairs or if they need a place to stay.”
“I forgot how much this place is like a hotel, but for superheroes.”
Again, you forced back a small chuckle at Scott’s words. Too often, you forgot that he was relatively new to this life, the Avengers. If you didn’t count the years you and the team assumed Scott had been dusted, you only knew him, and of the existence of Ant-Man, for three years. You smiled to yourself when you dwelled on when you first met him at the airport in Berlin. Despite the gravity of the battle that awaited you, Scott had been all smiles, eager to please, and a welcomed relief from the tension, even afterwards on the Raft.
That fight between Cap and Tony felt like the beginning of the end; in some ways, it was.
Rather than let yourself linger on the memory, you stopped in your trek down the hall and eyed the door you stood before. The metal facade was blank, with only a porthole window in the center of the door. Yet, beneath the little viewport, the faintest shade of recently removed lettering could be seen: The Vision.
“Here,” you said as you gestured to the door. “You can use this one for now.”
Scott murmured a thank you and stepped towards the entrance. The door slid open, for the first time in five years. A sad curiosity drove you to follow Scott inside. As he threw his backpack on the shining, steel lab table, you could not help but note how clean everything was. Though, a fine layer of dust covered most of the surfaces.
“Why is there a list of sitcoms on the whiteboard?”
At his question, you looked over and saw Scott, confusion written all over his face. Then, you noted his pointer finger aimed in the direction of the whiteboard in question. With furrowed brows you read the titles that were, unmistakably, written out in Vision’s font-like scrawl. I Love Lucy, Bewitched, The Brady Bunch, Family Ties, and the list went on.
“Before, this was...”
You started to speak but found yourself lost in memories of training with Wanda, Vision, Sam, and Rhodey. No one was blind to how close the synthezoid and the Sokovian became. On the nights you couldn’t sleep, you could hear Wanda explaining the episodic plotline to whichever TV show she decided to share with Vision. He must have spent his time researching, and the thought made your chest ache.
“Y/N? You okay?”
“Yeah,” you replied, tearing your eyes from the whiteboard, “you can just erase them.”
“Are you sure, ‘cause if someone needs to-”
“No,” you met Scott’s eyes again and saw a sickening amount of concern in them. It had been too long since someone looked at you like that. “No, no one’s using this room anymore.”
It was then a wash of recognition played on his features. In a panic, Scott’s lips parted, but only semblances of words slipped out. “Oh, I-I-”
“It’s alright,” you said, starting towards the door. “If you need anything, come find me. I’m the next door on the left.”
Scott’s stumbled reply was mostly drowned out by the sound of your shoes slapping against the tile floor and the door sliding open. You feared that if you stayed in the room any longer, you’d succumb into the grief again. Not everyone was as lucky as Scott, not everyone got someone back. As you walked towards your own workroom, you made a mental note to ask about the Pym’s the next time you saw him, and why he wasn’t working in one of their facilities.
That was, if he ever came back. Silently, selfishly, you hoped that he would.
“You’re back.”
“I’m back,” Scott said, throwing his arms wide as he stood in the doorway of the Avengers Compound. A goofy, closed-lipped smile spread across his face. “Miss me?”
“I’m gonna miss the quiet,” Rhodey snarked as he strode past. “Don’t play your music so loud, for the sake of our ears and sanity.”
“Noted, Mr. War Machine. Cassie’s trying to catch me up on all the music I missed when I was floating around in the quantum realm.”
Rhodey frowned at Scott and sighed. “As long as you catch up with headphones on, it’s alright by me.”
“Are you saying Katy Perry isn’t your style, Rhodes?” You asked, unable to hold back the easy jab. Rhodey only sighed once more, and louder, in response, before he wandered back to his workroom. When you turned back to look at Scott, you saw that he was focused on you with a mocking, silly scowl on his face.
“I wasn’t listening to Katy Perry.”
“Sure,” you drawled, “but if you want to keep your playlist a secret, use headphones like he said. “But, from what I heard, Cassie has good taste.”
“She doesn’t get it from me,” Scott admitted and, as he spoke, you noted how he reached up to scratch the back of his neck, almost nervously. “Actually, she might.”
You let out an amused hum. “Well, you know where I’ll be if you need me.”
As you began to turn around and make your way towards your room, you heard a sound of protest from Scott. You turned and met his gaze, with a question quirked up in your brow. The man seemed to be speechless for a moment, dumbfounded in a cute, puppy-dog-like way. His hazel eyes were fixed on you and they glanced along your face. Then, you realized, he was trying to get a read on you.
“What is it?”
“I...I need your help with something but…” Scott pressed his lips together and squinted at you, still trying to decipher something either about you or in your expression.
“But what?” You asked in a breathy laugh. He took a long breath and acquiesced.
“But I’m not sure you’ll...approve.” Pink spread along Scott’s cheeks and a childish, shy smile made its way to his lips. The sight was almost foreign to you. How rare it was that anyone inside the Avengers Compound smiled like that.
When you found your voice again, you asked, “and you need my approval?”
“No,” Scott replied, holding your gaze, “but I’d like it.”
A quiet few seconds passed and you wondered if he was still debating whether he should tell you or not. Then, after a few more quiet seconds, you realized you were simply fixed on each other. Awkwardly, you stepped back into the hallway, glancing at your feet before you looked back up at Scott and found the courage to speak.
“Then show me.”
A wider, brighter grin broke out across Scott’s face at your words. His expression proved infectious as you felt a smile, similarly large, stretch along your lips. Giddiness, a light, almost tickling sensation, you had not felt in years, trailed you and Scott as the two of you trekked down the main hallway, towards Vision’s old workstation. The door could not open quickly enough as you rode this fresh high of feeling.
It blinded you from the ache that lingered in the shadowed age of the lettering of Vision’s name on the door. Though, the moment you saw the red-inked names of sitcoms on the dry erase board, reality crashed back down on you. You looked over your shoulder at Scott as he followed you into the room, but he seemed unaware of your sudden shift in demeanor. He merely set his bag on the lab table as he did the first time you showed him inside and began to pull out whatever it was he worked on.
“You didn’t erase it?”
At your question, Scott turned his head, hazel eyes still bright and smile still wide. Though, when he saw how your giddiness faded, his grin dropped and his brows knitted together. He glanced from your face to the whiteboard and back again, more relaxed.
“Oh, yeah. I wouldn’t want to clear someone’s watchlist,” Scott finally replied, “and it seemed important to you, you know when I asked about it before.”
Warmth rose up your neck to your face until you felt it burn in your cheeks. “Thanks, Scott. You didn’t have to.”
“Ah, no biggie,” his grin returned as he waved a dismissive hand, “really.”
“Sorry,” you said, sparing one last glance back at Vision’s handwriting before you walked over to where Scott stood. “What is that you want to show me?”
His hands rested on the lab table-top, on either side of an object covered in what looked like a bedsheet. You eyed the blanketed lump before you met Scott’s gaze. He beamed back at you. The softness in his smile made your stomach flutter.
“Scott?”
“Oh! Yeah! Here,” he pulled the sheet away and revealed, what appeared to be, his Ant-Man suit. “Ta-da!”
You eyed the material for a moment, from the red, shrinkable fabric to the shining steel of the helmet, in search of some noticeable change. When you found nothing, you asked, “what….what I am looking at? Your suit?”
“No, not my suit. Hold on,” Scott picked up the suit and held it against his frame, “see it now?”
Slowly, you trailed your gaze along the shoulders of the suit but then noted Scott’s own shoulders. They were muscled, strong, but lithe; and far larger than what would fit in the suit. To get a better view, you backed up and let your eyes fall to his torso where the suit was more tapered. Even with the give of the fabric alloy, it wouldn’t fit Scott.
“It’s smaller,” you observed as you lifted your eyes to Scott’s. “Why did you make a smaller suit?”
The soft smile he wore before lingered, though it was a fade of itself as he tried to read through your apparent confusion. “It’s for Cassie.”
“Your daughter?” You asked, eyes widening.
“Yeah,” suddenly his smile fell. “You think this is a bad idea? It’s a bad idea, isn’t it? Or is it because it matches mine? Too daddy-daughter try hard?”
“What? No, it’s just,” you gestured to the suit he still held against his chest. “Why? Why did you make her a suit?”
You watched Scott’s energy shrink away as he began to fold the suit, setting it back on the lab table. His hands ran over the material and he sighed before he looked back up at you. The charming glint in his eyes was gone, dulled in a way that you had never seen from him before. Even when he first showed up at the Avenger’s Compound, unaware of Thanos, and lost, Scott remained a bright beacon of hope. Never before had you see his spirits so down.
“Five years,” he said lowly, “I missed five years of her life. I don’t know how to make it up to her, how to get back that time and be...and do what I do. I lost time with her. I don’t want to miss her more than I already did, you know?”
You nodded, snuck a glance back at Vision’s handwriting, and thought of Wanda. “Yeah, I know. Too many people had too much stolen from them. Time, homes...loved ones.”
When you met Scott’s gaze again, you saw the corners of his mouth twitch up slightly. “Exactly.”
A moment of quiet fell over you, laid easy on the understanding between you both. Scott’s eyes lingered on yours until the stillness became too much for you to bear. “But I wouldn’t say that giving your daughter a superpowered suit is the way to go.”
“It’s not like I’m giving her the keys to the quantum realm,” Scott said, his smile slowly starting to return. “I’m gonna train her, at the Compound probably. The gym here is fantastic.”
“Here?” You asked with furrowed brows. “I would’ve thought Hope would be all over training Cassie.”
At the mention of Hope’s name, Scott’s face fell once more. “She wasn’t, and we, uh, more than a difference in opinion on just that subject.”
“Oh,” you breathed, the gears in your mind clicking into place. “That’s why you’re here and not at the Pym’s, then?”
“Yup, that and I don’t think Hank would approve of this either,” Scott gestured towards Cassie’s suit. “He and Hope fought over her suit for ages, even before I showed up.”
Something his is dejected, distant tone made your heart hurt. Or maybe the cause was in the way he held himself: head down, eyes focused on the suit, his attempt to forge a new, bettered connection to his daughter. Or perhaps it was because you realized Scott wasn’t lucky. He could hide behind jokes and charisma, smiles and goofs, but he was human. He was an Avenger, just like you, and knew all too well how lonely that could be, just like you.
“Well, I’m glad you showed up,” you said, arms crossing over your chest. Scott lifted his gaze and you saw that some of his gleeful glimmer returned. “And, as long as you’re careful and Cassie is trained, I think the suit is a great way to try to make up for that lost time.”
“Thanks, Y/N.” The corner of his mouth lifted, pulling his lips up into a
half-smile. “That’s gonna make asking you for help a lot easier.”
You chuckled and shook your head. “Rhodey is the resident suit guy.”
“Yeah, but he doesn’t like me,” Scott said, in reference to the airport in Berlin. During the fight, when he made himself gigantic, he had thrown Tony’s team around like ragdolls. You smiled bitterly at the memory, the only time the whole team was together, but also apart.
“He’ll come around...eventually.”
“So, in the meantime, can you help me?” Scott leaned over the lab table as he asked, a signature, hopeful look decorating his features. Before you even agreed, you felt a smile like the one he wore begin to pull at your lips.
“I can try."
“I did it.”
“What?”
“I...I did it.”
“You did it?!”
“I did it,” you echoed, a small smile breaking across your lips as you turned to face Scott. He stood beside you, though farther down the length of the lab table. When your gaze landed on his face, you could not help but beam at his expression. His hazel eyes were wide, mouth drawn up into a wide grin that, despite working with him for weeks, you still found yourself in awe of.
“You did it!” Scott shouted as he rushed over, arms open and ready to bring you into a strong embrace. With ease, you welcomed the snugness of his arms around your shoulders. “You’re a genius.”
“I barely knew what I was do-” Your words died on your tongue the moment you felt Scott’s lips press against the crown of your head. It was the briefest of touches, of kisses, but it knocked you off your axis. When he pulled away, it took all you had not to forget how to breathe.
“When you knew more than me when it came to the,” Scott gestured with wangling fingers towards the belt of Cassie’s suit, “the design parts.”
“Y-Yeah, well,” your words fumbled out of your mouth when you felt Scott’s lingering hand slip from your shoulder, across the top of your back. “I would still have Rhodey check my work. Just in case.”
“Cassie’s birthday isn’t until a week from now, so I’ll have him look at it then.” At the bright confidence in his tone, you could not help but raise a skeptical brow at Scott. When he noticed, he mirrored your expression and asked, “what is it?”
“Please tell me you’re going to mark it down somewhere, on a calendar or in your phone.” Scott scoffed and turned his gaze from yours with false bravado.
“I won’t forget.”
“You’re going to forget,” you pressed, arms crossing over your chest as you flared knowing up at Scott. “Just like you forgot the copper all-“
“But I got it,” Scott countered, hands raised in finger guns, which were aimed at you, catching your truth red-handed. “I got them!”
“But you forgot to, originally. That’s what proves my point,” you explained, standing up from the lab chair. “You forgot.”
You gave Scott a small, teasing smile as you carried the tools, the ones you used when working on the belt, over to their respective boxes. Behind you, you heard Scott humming in thought, something that you noticed, in the weeks you worked together, he did quite often. It wasn’t a song or set tune per se, but it was always light, breathy. While it disturbed you at first, you grew to enjoy the sound as it was one of Scott’s quirks, and you felt that he could never annoy you, not really. Despite how he jokingly denied his past mistakes.
“Alright, yeah,” Scott admitted, much to your surprise, “I did that time, but I won’t forget to invite you to Cassie’s party.”
Your movements stalled and the tools you began to put away remained tightly grasped in your hands as you mulled over Scott’s words. Slowly, you turned your head to face him, half wondering if he was joking. When you saw the sincerity glinting in Scott’s eyes and the hope in his smile, you felt your breath catch.
“Really?”
“I mean, yeah. Why wouldn’t I invite you?”
“I’m just, I don’t know,” you set the tools down at last and turned to fully face Scott. “I’m not used to people at work mixing...business with pleasure and all that.”
“Pleasure?” Scott asked, brows raised but not in shock. Immediately, you felt your stomach twist with regret regarding your poor phrasing.
“That’s not what I meant,” you backpedaled, leaning your backside against the table-top for support. It offered very little as your felt your nerves heighten when Scott took a few steps towards you. There was a dark determination in his eyes, the same look he wore while he studied schematics for the shrinking tech in Cassie’s suit. Your chest felt wonderfully full when you realized that it was you that was now the subject of his focus.
“Well, if it means anything to you, you’re a pleasure to have around,” Scott said, and, as much as you wished he was, it was clear he wasn’t teasing you. At least, not in the way you had grown accustomed to. “I really enjoy working with you, talking with you. And I hope you can come to the party.”
Scott was mere inches away from you as he finished speaking. You could feel the intoxicating warmth of his body mingling with yours. It took all you had to ground yourself, muster a reply.
“I’ll be there,” you breathed, slowly finding some iota of courage. “If you don’t think it will mix things, confuse things.”
“Things wouldn’t be confused,” he said, though his tone shifted up and his eyes squinted towards you with all the telltale signs of befuddlement. “Unless...they already are?”
“Are they?” You asked, suddenly nerved into a flush.
“I don’t know,” Scott admitted, leaning back and slightly away from you. “Maybe you could clarify?”
You bit the inside of your cheek and let your eyes trace over the peaks of his face. Down the slope of his nose, you landed at his cheekbones, then, finally, his lips, which weren’t pulled up in their usual, wide smile. His smile had become a beacon, a sign of better things to come. You lost sight of it, of hope, after Thanos, after everything; then Scott returned. And there he was, coming back again, working at your side again.
At last, you didn’t feel alone in your loneliness, in the distance created by what was seemingly the weight of worry and the world on your shoulders. Scott felt it too, helped you carry it. You didn’t want to risk losing that. He had just come back...
“I-I don’t want to push things, Scott.”
“I don’t want to either,” he said, his eyes falling to the floor before he looked back up at you, resolved. “But I like you.”
“I like you too,” you breathed, the words tumbling out of your mouth in one exhale before you had the wherewithal to stop them. Though, even if you had the wherewithal, you wouldn’t have. Both of you had lost time too much already to risk losing anymore, risk or no risk.
“So, neither of us are confused.” He raised his dark brows at you in question, eyes searching your face for approval, for agreement.
Scott was always careful like that. He never wanted to assume. You figured assumptions got him in trouble in the past, but as soon as the thought entered your head, it fled. Perhaps he was just kind.
You laughed softly, “no, not confused. Not right now, anyway.”
“Awesome,” Scott said with a smile.
“Great.”
For a long moment, you and Scott just stared at each other. The air around you was no longer tense, but you did feel that the twisting in your stomach remained. Nerves, in every sense of the word, still set you wild in the most wonderful of ways. You were about to address them or teasing tell Scott that, despite your mutual admission, you still wanted him to set a reminder about getting Rhodey to check Cassie’s suit to diffuse the electric air between you.
Before you could, Scott spoke up.
“Can I kiss you?”
A full, unabashed smile plucked at your lips. He returned your expression, with lines carving graceful traces into his face. You wanted to savor the look of want in his gleaming eyes, the gentle grin. Though, after a while, it faltered and you realized you had been staring, silently, leaving him without answer, for far too long.
“Oh, y-yeah!”
Scott cocked his head hesitantly to the side and quirked his brow at you. “You sure? You seemed-”
“Scott,” you said, almost warningly. His smile returned at your tone and he stepped towards you to close the gap.
His hands, rough from working with wires, cupped both sides of your face and drew you in for the softest kiss. Due to the difference in sensation, your brain short-circuited, unable to compute how the owner of almost calloused palms could also have lips so smooth. Smooth as your mouths melded perfectly together as if this connection had been long since fated.
Perhaps from the first moment, you saw Scott stumble out of Clint’s van in the Berlin airport all those years ago. If that was the case, then you both definitely had to make up for lost time.
I'd like to think amor stays around las nevadas most since it's similar to a modern city and modern cities have a lot of, well, trash and he's a Trashcan Creechur™
he doesn't really need the garbage for anything other than clothes really, since he's a plant he can just do photosynthesis then boom, food! but he takes comfort in trash n stuff since he grew up in a garbage disposal on skyblock and somehow got himself stuck in the dsmp (he was originally from crystal cliffs tho)
there’s dread that has settled in the pit of her stomach since the end of the festival. she’d been more than content in watching the wanderers align, a smile wide on her face, only for it to slip away the second fire came raining from the sky. she’d been lucky, luckier than most in the fact that her guards had gotten her safely to the keep with nothing more than a singed dress. at first she’d felt the sweet relief of living, only for it to be surpassed by dread as the names of the dead. a stark prince, the ruling lord arryn, and the king himself. she never thought she’d see such a thing, and while she knew that for her family the downfall of the king was a win, but she couldn’t help the mourning that settled in her chest. she’s instead busied herself around the makeshift infirmary, never the best healer but she could do the little things. “would you like some water, maybe a meal? the servants have been sending things up sporadically, but it’s no trouble for me to track one down.”
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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