#absent parents
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Wishing a happy and safe Father's Day to those whose fathers don't deserve celebration. You matter. Your dad may not have treated you right, but you can give yourself the same love that you missed out on now.
Run yourself a bubble bath. Buy yourself a nice dessert. Find camaraderie with others like you. Do something your inner child always wanted to but couldn't. Let yourself make mistakes. Watch a comfort movie.
You've made it this far, and that's something to celebrate.
#sorcererspeaks#fathersday#father#abuse survivor#narcissistic abuse#absent parents#lgbtq#lgbtqia#queer
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happy father's day to all the daughters and sons who stood up and picked the parental role, to the ones who've had to prove their worth over and over, are scared to vulnerable and always look out for their siblings, to the ones who had absent fathers or distant ones, abusive ones or shitty ones, the ones who didnt have a child hood, were up to scrutiny all the time, the black sheeps and scapegoats, the punching bags. i love you so much, happy father's day because you're twice the man your father ever was, it's not your fault that the same man who stitched the hearts of thousands of others forgot that he had shredded your heart and opened its seams.
#dark academia#light academia#literature#love#poetry#quotes#words#writing#poets on tumblr#writer#fathersday#father#absent parents#absent father
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you stayed absent for so long that i forgot what it was like to take every step knowing someone would catch me if i ever fall. you do not get to tell me that my insolence isn't valid when you forgot that i too was just a kid. the sleeves of my shirts bear evidence of my hurt, the scar on my knee screams it was never easy. you stayed absent for so long that i forgot where i belong.
#literature#reading#words#poetry#aesthetic#english literature#writers and poets#poems on tumblr#quotes#writers on tumblr#absent parents#inner child#kids#family
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I love this silly horse game because we arrived on Jorvik and our parents are just somewhere?
They are so dedicated to the role of absent parents they should get an award for this. I've been here for years and not one single call...
#who needs enemies when you can have parents#reasonsiplaysso#starstablememes#star stable shitpost#ssoblr#sso#star stable online#star stable#starstableonline#deadbeat parents#daddy issues#mommy issues#absent parents#they got lost at sea
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devil couldn’t reach me so he made me look at every man with the eyes of a daughter
#daddy issues#tumblr fyp#hell is a teenage girl#i love you#grief#i miss you#dad problems#absent father#absent parents
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Source: The Holistic Psychologist
#reminder#awareness#mental health#absent parents#emotions#feelings#life#living#trauma#connecting#reconnecting#understanding#self-worth#self-awareness#self-help#self-love#emotional availability
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Sibling separation happens to 60-70% of foster kids.
#foster care#foster kids#Childhood trauma#Sibling separation#trauma#Parentification#Older siblings as maternal figures#Effects of foster care#social science#Social work#Attachment#Abusive parents#Neglectful parents#absent parents#Foster kid problems
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hi everyone. i'm doll, 28, she/they/it. anyone who knows me and my mom knows that i'm her servant way before i'm her daughter. growing up my peers would ask me if i wanted their moms to talk to mine and i would always freak because i knew that would make things worse. after living in nyc for two years and getting a taste of what it's like to live out from under her thumb, i had to move back home because my psychiatrist in nyc was extremely negligent, letting me go for weeks at a time without meds. nothing could have prepared me for how triggering it would be to be living back home with my abuser. my osdd got/is getting worse, and i'm seeing my personality fracture into myself and an internal mother figure just to cope with having an absent one. it's helpful but ultimately really scary. all this to say that if you would even just rb this or donate even $1, that would mean the world to me and i would be one step closer from cutting her out of my life forever.
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They aren't going to apologise.
They aren't going to see all the hurt they inflicted.
Nothing you say, will cause change.
To protect yourself, realise that.
That person who seeks retribution, time and love.
Won't ever receive it.
I dont say this to be mean.
I say this to save you from further pain.
Trust me, I tried.
#writers#my writing#fiction#notes#sad writing#writers on tumblr#love notes#love letters#poets on tumblr#lonely poetry#mental health#absent parents#absent father#absent friends#absent mom#this is me trying#im trying#borderline personality disorder#actually borderline#borderline culture is#anxi4ty#anxitey#animals#writers and poets#writerscommunity#female writers#creative writing#writer stuff
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FIC: "She Didn't Want That Day" (MLB; Lukanette; LBSC Lukanette Month 2024)
@lovebugs-and-snakecharmers is doing a Lukanette Month for September 2024, and we all just kinda tossed some prompts in the disco to compile a list? We ended up with 71 prompts, so I decided I’d roll some dice to pick a prompt, do a twenty minute (ish, bc we all know sometimes they run away from me) sprint, and try to get some short fics out this month?
For Better or Worse AU - Whump, No Happy Ending, Mind the Tags, etc.
Read on Ao3
Prompt 60: “Love is a choice, and I’ve made mine.”
She didn’t remember the building looking so…normal before.
But then again, it had been a long time since she’d bothered paying it any mind. She could barely…no. Not barely. She could remember all too well the last time she had been there – the last time her papa had let her be there.
His hand had been so big around hers, back then. So much bigger than it had felt a few weeks before, when…
She still remembered the screaming woman inside, too. Much as she wished she didn’t.
Still.
She had no choice now, did she? She had made a promise, and Couffaines kept their promises.
It was a good day. One of his last good days.
Looking at him now, you’d never know…but she did know. And that was the problem, wasn’t it? She couldn’t not know. He hadn’t wanted to tell her at first – hadn’t known how – but now that the whole ugly truth was out there…she saw it every time she looked at him.
He was dying, and a large part of her…a mean, hard part of her that was only natural, growing up the way she had…she wished he would just get on with it.
“I need you to promise me something,” he said, his voice quieter than she ever remembered it being before. Quieter even than Aunt Juleka’s. He was looking out the window, his fingers moving idly over the old guitar in his lap as he watched the cherry blossom branches move with the early spring wind.
He had told her once this had been her mother’s favorite time of year. Her mother had supposedly planted that tree, back when they’d first moved in to the old house. Back before everything had ‘fallen apart’ – when they had planned on actually filling the place with a family, one that would have had a swing hanging from one of the branches some day.
She didn’t remember that.
She had never met that Marinette Couffaine.
She’d been told she would have loved her.
“Of course, Papa,” she said, though she wasn’t sure if she meant it. His lips quirked in a small, knowing smile – like he already knew she wouldn’t be keeping her promise.
“Make sure you visit your maman every now and then, all right?” he asked. He had started playing that old song he always seemed to slip into, the one he had once told her was for happier times. She had always hated the stupid thing – every time he played it he just sounded…stuck. “She’ll need someone. It should be you.”
“…I’ll try,” she said, though they both knew she hated the idea. She didn’t understand why it needed to be her. It’s not like her moth…it’s not like Marinette had any idea who she was, anyway.
“Harmony…” he sighed, his fingers stilling as he looked up at her. He looked so…tired. Worn. “Please, sweetheart. For me.”
She swallowed, her throat feeling too tight, and nodded. She would. For him. Because she did love him, against her better wisdom.
…he had always tried. She knew fathers who hadn’t even done that much. Marinette was how she was because of one such father, if the stories – the ‘legends’ – of the great Ladybug were to be believed.
She had never put much stock in them, herself. Sure, New York had its heroes, but magical jewelry?
It was a fairytale, and when you grew up with a mother who was batshit crazy…well.
Harmonika Couffaine had never put much stock in fairytales.
“Papa?” she asked after a long moment had passed. After he had started playing again. He hummed, and she sighed. “Why…why do you keep going? Why didn’t you just…you could have divorced her. Found someone else.”
Given me a real mother, she thought bitterly.
“No one would have blamed you,” she said. “It couldn’t have been that hard, given…everything.”
He stopped playing again, his gaze turning back to the tree. That little smile was back on his face. The one he got when he was thinking about her mother, of the way she used to be. Back before she had been born.
“…no,” he finally said, leaning his head back against his chair. “I suppose it wouldn’t have been.”
“But you didn’t,” she said, frowning. “You stayed married to her. You go visit her almost every single day. You…Papa. You put your entire life on hold for someone who doesn’t even remember you.”
“She remembers me, sweetheart,” he said, closing his eyes. Harmony frowned, unconvinced. After another moment, he took a deep breath and opened his eyes again. “It’s not that simple, baby. I couldn’t just…walk away from her.”
“You could have,” Harmony insisted, but he shook his head and turned back towards her.
“No, Harmony, I couldn’t have,” he said, his voice firm. Stronger than she had heard in a while. “Love is a choice, Harmonika Couffaine, and I made mine a long time ago.”
She looked away, and for a moment…it was so strange, but the heat creeping up her neck almost felt like shame.
“…of course, Papa,” she said, and the smile he gave her almost looked relieved. He sank back into his chair, his fingers returning to his guitar. Playing that same damn song again.
“Thank you, Harmony.”
…that was what had decided it, in the end. The look on her papa’s face as he made her promise to check in on her mother. Not every day, but…every now and then. Just to make sure someone was.
Because that’s what he had worried about, in the end. Making sure Marinette Couffaine knew she hadn’t been forgotten, even when Marinette Couffaine didn’t know anything else.
He hadn’t worried about his own daughter.
Of course he hadn’t – because love was a choice, and he had always chosen Marinette first.
…her aunts would tell her she wasn’t being fair. They had been reminding her of that a lot the past few weeks, but she didn’t think that was very fair of them, either. After all, they had known Luka and Marinette Before. She supposed it was easier to forgive someone of their present when you could still be comforted by memories of their past.
Her Granarchy would just remind her it wasn’t right to speak ill of the dead, things being what they were.
…she would be kinder later. When the hurt wasn’t as fresh. When the grave dirt had given way to grass. When she could remember their own good times without anger and resentment.
When the words Luka Couffaine is dead didn’t make her chest burn and ache like a fresh wound.
The breeze was warmer when it blew past her, tossing her bleached hair into her face. She pushed it back with a frown, swallowing as she looked back up at the building.
It looked so…innocent. Like any other house in Paris.
She remembered it looking…bigger. More intimidating.
Scarier.
“All right, Papa,” she said, taking a deep breath of warm, late spring air. She looked down at the flowers in her hands, her stomach twisting unpleasantly. Cherry blossoms, because they had always been her favorite. Her signature. In pink, because she used to be pink. And white, because…well. Mamie used to say it was a funeral color, in her home country.
It had seemed fitting, when Auntie Rose had helped her arrange it in the shop.
“She’ll love them,” she had promised, squeezing her hand. “She’ll be so glad to see you, Harmony.”
Harmony couldn’t believe that.
Marinette had never been glad to see her before.
Marinette had never known her before.
She took another deep breath and steeled herself.
“Ok, Couffaine,” she said, glaring up at the building. “You made a promise.”
She took a step.
#miraculous ladybug#luka couffaine#marinette dupain-cheng#harmony couffaine#lukanette#endgame lukanette#lukanette endgame#ml fic#ver fic#lbsc lukanette month 2024#for better or worse au#marinette is a mental patient#luka is dead#major character death#harmony is not the harmony I know#absent parents#grief#mourning#harmony is understandably hard#angst#whump#no happy endings#maybe#there's a niggling#one more to go lads
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You ever sit around and think about the fact that you’ll never have parents that love you?
#Mommy issues#daddy issues#family issues#absent parents#Absent father#Absent mother#Abusive parents#childhood trauma#Cause i do#mentally ill
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24 Days of Satosugu 2023 Day 2 - Current
Suguru sighs when he hangs up the phone. His parents have invited them over for a weekend again. It’s not that Suguru doesn’t like it, isn’t appreciative of the way his parents have fully embraced his and Satoru’s relationship but they just returned from a weekend stay there two days ago.
They can hardly go back again so soon.
“What’s got you all troubled?” Satoru asks, leaning over Suguru’s back to check his phone. “Your parents? Everything okay?”
Suguru can hear real worry in his voice and just for that he presses a kiss to Satoru’s cheek.
“Everything’s good,” Suguru replies and puts his phone down. “They want us to come spend the weekend with them.”
“We literally just returned from there. My bag isn’t even unpacked yet,” Satoru snorts out with a laugh and Suguru laughs as well.
“I know,” he sighs out, reaching behind himself to poke Satoru into the side. “And you really should get to it one of these days.”
“One of these days I will,” Satoru promises and nuzzles Suguru’s cheek. “So, are we going back?”
“Not as long as you haven’t unpacked,” Suguru replies because he refuses to have several unpacked bags loitering in their apartment.
“So never,” Satoru gravely says. “It was nice knowing your parents.”
“You are such a menace,” Suguru fondly says and captures Satoru’s lips in a real kiss. “No, but seriously. Would you want to go back so soon?” Suguru asks, because he knows his parents can be a bit much, even though they clearly adore Satoru, and Suguru would completely understand it if Satoru doesn’t want to spend every other weekend at their place.
“I mean, it’s not as if it’s a hardship. Your parents are awesome. And they clearly adore me, just like they should, so sure.”
“Yeah, they really should adore you,” Suguru seriously gives back, even though he damn well knows that Satoru was just joking. “Because you make me happy.”
“Suguru,” Satoru whines out very predictably because he gets like this when Suguru says things in that earnest way. “Don’t say that.”
“Why not? It’s true after all. You make me happy. Very happy. Because I love you.”
Satoru is hiding his face away in Suguru’s neck, but even like this Suguru can feel how hot his skin burns and he knows that Satoru must be bright red in the face.
“I love you, too,” Satoru gives back, never one to let the sentiment go unreturned and Suguru sinks his hand into Satoru’s silky soft hair.
“So, let’s go back. Soon-ish. Maybe in two weeks?”
Satoru hums his consent.
“Make it like a monthly thing? Then your mother doesn’t always have to call with a pretence.”
“Oh, it’s not my mother who is the instigator of this,” Suguru corrects Satoru, because he knows very well that his father is the driving force behind the frequent invites.
“Wait, really?” Satoru finally comes back out of hiding and Suguru takes that opportunity to pull him around so he can hug him properly.
“Really. Mom is thrilled, of course, but I think she’d be okay with the occasional call. Dad’s the one who would want us to move in with them, if he had a say in that.”
There’s a beat of silence.
“I love your parents, but please don’t move us in with them,” Satoru then very seriously says as if that could ever be an option and Suguru laughs.
“Not a chance in hell. I’m not giving up my home with you here to have my parents meddle in my relationship.”
“Aw, you like your home with me, huh?” Satoru asks, as if Suguru doesn’t tell him frequently just how much he loves him, as if he really needs to fish for compliments like that.
“Of course I do. And I’m not trading it for anything. My parents will have to settle for a weekend a month.”
“Deal,” Satoru whispers and presses close, moves as close to Suguru as he can.
“Deal,” Suguru agrees, pressing kiss after kiss to Satoru’s head and silently wonders just what he did to get so lucky in life.
~*~*~
Suguru knew that something was up the moment Satoru stepped out of their bedroom, a look of gloom on his face and it’s just thanks to Suguru’s quick reflexes that he is able to stop Satoru from throwing his phone on the ground.
“What’s going on?” Suguru asks as he carefully takes the phone out of his hand, moving it to the side so he can hug Satoru.
“I have to go home for a few days,” Satoru mutters, his voice empty of any feeling and Suguru presses his lips together.
Satoru doesn’t speak much about his family, which causes Suguru to believe that his parents aren’t that great, but the few times Suguru dared to ask about them, Satoru blocked him right off. If he’s being honest, Suguru doesn’t know anything about Satoru’s parents and sometimes that makes him wonder.
“For how long?” Suguru asks and Satoru pushes away from him, not meeting his eyes.
“Dunno, a few days,” he repeats, with the same empty voice as before and Suguru tries to reach out for him, but Satoru moves out of the way of his searching hand. Suguru’s heart feels as if it’s breaking for a moment.
“Do you–want me to come?” Suguru asks even though he can read the answer right off Satoru’s face.
“No,” he immediately gives back, with a vehemence Suguru wasn’t prepared for and the force of Satoru’s answer makes Suguru take a step back in surprise.
“Satoru,” he tries but falls silent when Satoru whirls around to him, his eyes blazing.
“No, Suguru. I don’t want them to meet you!”
Loving Satoru is like being swept away by a current; usually, Suguru is fine with going wherever Satoru wants to take him but sometimes, just sometimes, it feels as if he’s going to drown. Like right now.
“You don’t–want them to meet me,” Suguru repeats because he doesn’t understand. “You don’t want me to meet your parents.”
“Yes, you’ve got a problem grasping that concept?” Satoru bites out and Suguru takes another step back.
“No, I get it,” Suguru whispers out, even though he doesn’t, he doesn’t understand anything anymore.
He thought he and Satoru were good.
“Great. I need some ice cream,” Satoru then decides and whirls around on his heels, storming out of the door without a look back.
The apartment feels very empty and very cold all of a sudden.
“I see,” Suguru whispers into the emptiness of the room and then turns around and walks straight into their bedroom where he curls up in bed.
He doesn’t know where he went wrong, what he did wrong to make the idea of Satoru’s parents meeting him so revolting to Satoru and he’s not sure if he can fix it if it’s been going on for the entirety of their relationship.
They’ve been together for almost two years now; the thought that Suguru is somehow lacking enough that Satoru can’t even introduce him at home makes a sharp, hot pain shoot through him.
Suguru hides his face in the pillow and curses the ache that settles in his chest when all he smells is Satoru.
They’ll have to talk about this, Suguru knows that, but he’s not looking forward to it. With how Satoru just stormed out on him, it’s probably going to end in a huge fight and Suguru doesn’t want to do that.
He just hopes he can find out what he can do to make himself worthy to get to know Satoru’s family.
~*~*~
“What are you doing?” Satoru asks, as he tears the blanket off Suguru, who hisses at him in surprise.
He must have dozed off because he didn’t even hear Satoru come back in, but now that he’s standing right there, tub of ice cream in his hand and spoons in the other, Suguru remembers what made him flee to the bed.
“Satoru, we have to talk,” Suguru says as he sits up, pushing his hair out of his face, and Satoru goes pale almost immediately.
“What? Are you going to break up with me?” he asks, his voice already wobbly and Suguru hates that look on him.
He always wants to see Satoru happy.
“What did I do wrong?” Satoru wants to know before Suguru can even open his mouth, clearly deciding that it’s something he must have done and Suguru is quick to shake his head.
“Nothing, Satoru, I’m not going to break up with you, not unless you want me to,” Suguru rushes to reassure him, but he must still have said something wrong because the colour won’t return to Satoru’s face.
“Unless I want you to? Did you do something unforgivable?” He pauses for a moment and Suguru can tell that he’s hyping himself up to ask the next question. “Did you cheat on me?” His voice wavers and Suguru reaches out to pull Satoru into his arms.
“Of course not, Satoru, I would never, I love you too much for that.”
“Then what? What is it?” Satoru demands to know and Suguru wonders if he should have started this talk differently.
“Listen, before, you said you don’t want your parents to meet me.” It still stings to say that out loud but Suguru needs to know what he did wrong. “Is it something I did?”
“What? Suguru, what are you even talking about?”
“It’s just–I’ve never met your parents, not in all the time of our friendship. I know you don’t like to talk about them, mostly, but you also never outright say anything against them. And I just can’t help but to wonder–did I do something wrong to make you not want them to meet me? Or is it–have they been giving you a hard time because of me?”
“I am so, so sorry,” Satoru says and moves away from Suguru to cup his face in both of his hands. “Nothing at all is wrong and you are perfect. I’m sorry I phrased it like that.”
“Explain it to me, then, Satoru, please,” Suguru whispers out, circling Satoru’s wrists with his hands, holding on and making Satoru keep his hands right where they are.
“I don’t want them to meet you because they don’t deserve it,” Satoru says and his words make Suguru blink in surprise.
“What?”
“Let’s lay down, okay?” Satoru asks and doesn’t wait for Suguru’s answer, before he lays down on the bed, pulling Suguru down with him, so his head rests over Satoru’s chest.
His heartbeat is very steady and a soothing balm to Suguru’s soul.
“Your ice cream?” Suguru can’t help but to ask because he knows how much Satoru hates melted ice cream but he hears Satoru shake his head.
“Not important right now. You’re important,” he replies and just like that, Suguru knows that Satoru really loves him.
There are very few things he would abandon ice cream for.
“Explain then?” Suguru asks carefully when Satoru stays quiet for a bit too long and his entire body heaves with the sigh Satoru lets out.
“I haven’t seen my parents in years,” Satoru starts with and it’s surprising enough that Suguru wants to sit up to look at Satoru, but Satoru keeps his head right where it is with a hand in his hair. “When I say I go home, I mean I go home to a house filled with service staff, to sign some updated documents about the company with a lawyer or get a letter of complaint handed to me by a butler. My parents are the definition of absent and they do not deserve to know anything about my life except where I live and my phone number.”
“You haven’t seen them in years?” Suguru whispers out and Satoru scratches his scalp.
“It’s always been like that. I saw them a bit more often when I was younger, but that was mostly so that they could check on my progress in school. I was raised by the staff they kept in the house.”
Suguru knows of course that Satoru is the heir to a ridiculously huge and successful company, but he never thought to look further into it, mostly because Satoru so very clearly doesn’t care about that. He shamefully has to admit that it never even occurred to him to ask further into Satoru’s home life past the off-handed questions he sometimes asked.
“I am so sorry,” Suguru breathes out, wriggling around until he can sling his arms around Satoru’s chest. “I didn’t know.”
“I don’t care,” Satoru easily gives back. “Not anymore. And besides. Your parents are more than making up for it.”
Suguru had wondered about that, if he’s being honest. Satoru had seemed so confused the first few times they visited Suguru’s parents and then he had leaned into that with a passion Suguru couldn’t understand.
But it all makes sense now.
“I don’t even want to meet people like that,” Suguru decides because Satoru is right.
These people don’t deserve to meet Suguru and they certainly don’t deserve to see Satoru happy.
“That’s what I thought,” Satoru teasingly gives back and tugs on Suguru’s hair. “I’m sorry I didn’t explain it better before, I didn’t think.”
“No, I might have jumped to conclusions really fast,” Suguru admits and scoots up until he can press his forehead against Satoru’s. “I shouldn’t have spiralled like that and talked to you first, anyway.”
“Not gonna lie, you did scare me there for a second,” Satoru breathes out and Suguru presses an apologetic kiss against his lips.
“Sorry.”
“I’m sorry, too,” Satoru replies and Suguru nods.
“And with that we leave it behind us,” he decides. “Maybe we’ll visit my parents next week again, though.”
“I won’t have unpacked by then,” Satoru warns him and Suguru laughs before he presses a kiss to his cheek.
“I’ll allow it this one time. Because I love you.”
“I love you, too,” Satoru says and slings his arms around Suguru’s neck, leaning in for another kiss, which Suguru is happy to grant him.
By the time they remember the ice cream, it’s a lost cause.
#bt writes#jjk#24 days of satosugu 2023#satosugu#stsg#no curses#established relationship#misunderstandings#absent parents#hurt/comfort#cuddling and snuggling#fluff
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#daddy issues#parental issues#dysfunctional parents#absent parents#mentally unhinged#mentally fucked#mentally drained#mentally unstable#mental problems#mental illness#bpd problems#personal problems#cw vent#vent blog#vent tag#bpd stuff
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im fatherless. no i wasn’t adopted. yes he’s still alive.
#family#family relationships#absent father#absent parents#he knows nothing about me fr#he doesn’t even have the emotional intelligence to try#and get to know me as a person#whatever
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#borderline personality disorder#bpd things#mental illness awareness#living with myself#absent parents
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