#ao3 is fine
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why is ao3 is blocked on the hospital wifi????
#Literally everything else works fine it’s just ao3#Who was reading smut that they blocked ao3#I must know#in which nina screams into the void
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"AO3 doesn't need a "dislike" button"
Um, actually, it already has one. Depending on your specs, it might look a little different but over all it looks kinda like this:
You can find it at the corner of your screen, which corner is dependent on your layout.
Anyway, if you dislike a fic, you can hit this Dislike Button until the fic goes away. It really is pretty amazing actually.
#just blog stuff#ao3#this is a joke except it isn't#nothing prompted this everything is fine don't even worry about it
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babygirl i will invent stages of grief you have never seen before
#good omens#good omens 2#good omens spoilers#so that ending huh!#this has been sitting in my drafts for months#i’ve been waiting for something to emotionally devastate me enough to post this and!! yeah!!!!!! this applies!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#losing my mind#i was stunned i was at a loss for words#need season 3 on a flash drive and plugged into my brain STAT I CANT DO THIS#AUUUGGGGGHHH#good omens s2#good omens season 2#ineffable husbands#ineffable partners#time to open ao3 and pretend everything is fine!
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I was telling my dad about ao3 and he asked "But why would anyone do it if they're not being paid?" And that genuinely makes me so sad. The fact that the majority of people are told things are only worth doing if there is financial gain in it. Oh you're an artist? Artists don't make any money.
Sometimes the point isn't money. Sometimes it's just to create.
#like god damn have some joy#in my experience doing things for reasons other than money is far more rewarding or enjoyable#its literally been studied and proven that doing things for money and or superficial rewards takes the joy out of tasks#in people and other animals#anti capitalism#anti capitalist#ao3#fanfic#fanfiction#ofc doing art for money is 100% fine and okay#its just that isnt the only reason ever for everyone#loz posts
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I love how even more unhinged this site gets when ao3 goes down. I hope you all survive.
#ao3#ao3 down#it's just maintenance#we will be fine....#promise#may you all survive#time to reread pdfs of my own fics
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fix it fics save me..... save me fics that give the characters a happy ending save me..........
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pack it up it’s over containment is gone max and charles probably sending each other lestappen memes every other day
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All I want is Peter going.
Peter: "I'm Robin! Because Tata said so!"
Dick: *Crying, absolutely destroyed yet still with so much love for his son.* "T-thats right, you're Robin."
(Damian and Peter can share the title, but I just find the idea of 4 year old Pete being possessive of the nickname cute and sad at the same time)
the second they figure out WHY peter thinks this, Dick is in shambles (actually all of them are). Damian's like "i can't even argue because he's 4 years old. curse it all"
#erinwantstowrite#ao3#ao3 fanfic#leap of faith ao3#leap of faith catch me if you can#peter parker#dick grayson#damian wayne#tim in the last part Concerned because of the history#dami is fine
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comforter [ megumi fushiguro ]
cw: fluff, crack, ity-bity-wity bit suggestive but it goes no where, foul language, no spoilers, established relationship, fem!reader. i lub him. this probably makes no sense.... not proofread!!
"You're being stupid."
Megumi huffed, pulling the flesh of your cheek with one hand, the other scrolling through his phone. Barely paying attention to each colourful post that flashed across his screen with each swipe of his finger, his eyes lingered on the way you jutted your lips out and squirmed. He watched as you followed his pulling hand, groaning and sighing like a whiny puppy,
"Megumi, it's not stupid! I need a new comforter!"
Scowling, you pull his cheek back, pushing yourself up onto one elbow to lean over him. He glared at you as you did, scoffing with a half smile. He let out a breath through his nose, rolling his eyes melodramatically,
"What? Because I said I don't like it?"
"Duh! How can I sleep with you if you don't like my new comforter?"
Eyes blown wide, you both stare at each other, one a face of pleading, the other of dread; innocent and not so much.
"....What."
"What?"
Megumi gawked at you, eye twitching as he squinted at you. His porcelain skin flushed with the softest shade of pink, eyes darting away while he gently rubbed you arm,
"Say it again in your head."
1... 2... 3...
"Oh." ding, ding, ding!
He tries to keep himself contained, his phone drooping in his hand as he watches you suck your lips into a strict line. Your cheeks flushed, his thumb that once pinched now grazed your warm skin. Maybe you guys were dating, but maybe not for long enough for this to be anything but funny. And it was 2 a.m.. And Kugisaki was your neighbor.
And, hey, you didn't mean it like that it just came out wrong... maybe. I mean, look at him. Brows furrowing, eyes focused in concentration to the elegant sweep of his eyelashes as you huff, trying to keep your voice from wavering as you spit,
"Don't make fun of me for saying a sentence that sounds like 'I wanna fuck' but in 15th century of Europe, Megumi, or I'm gonna send you there. And show you my ankles."
Silence settles again, your bodies shaking together as they try to stay quiet. With shaking breath, you mutter,
"Nobara's gonna kill us."
Loud, uncontained laughter erupted between you too, gasping through each exhausting chortle as Megumi tried to stay quiet, hiding his mouth behind his hand as you hid in his shoulder. He dropped his phone, slender hand tangling in your hair as he covers his eyes,
"SHUT UP!"
Since it's not conscious, laughter doesn't shut up, only getting louder and more obscene as Nobara bangs her hand on the wall beside you. You glanced at Megumi, eyebrows wiggling as if saying, 'told you so.' He rolls his eyes again, as he always does when he can't stand your teasing.
"MEGUMI, MAKE YOUR GIRLFRIEND SHUT UP OR I—"
"Yeah, d'you hear that? Shut up, girlfriend."
You laugh, rolling you eyes,
"Sorry, Nobara! was getting 'Gumi to sleep with me!"
Crickets. And a smack across the head from Megumi, grinning as he laughed into you hair.
"You can't fucking say that. And I literally just showed you why." He grinned, his words not matching the way his hand twirled your hair or his soft eyes, "you're such an idiot."
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈
a/n: edited it bc i realized i kude a dumb dumb mistake. i need a boyfriend [megumi] so bad its genuinely getting out of hand. i kinda wanna write a full series on him... lmk if i should.
directory
#HES SO CUTE#hes so fine fuck#I LOVE HIMJSDNFJL#ao3#ao3 author#drabble#fluff#jjk drabble#jjk au#satoru gojo#jjk fanart#jjk art#jjk spoilers#jjk#jjk gojo#jjk x reader#jjk headcanons#gojo satoru#megumi fushiguro x reader#nobara#fushiguro#yuuji#itadori#megumi smau#megumi x you#megumi x reader#megumi smut#megumi fluff#megumi fushiguro#jjk megumi
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(DCxDP) The obligations of a rogue versus those of a parent (Pt. 4)
—
Tw: descriptions of body horror, Dr. Crane has PTSD and Does Not Realize, Crane has an actual panic attack and just doesn’t care, the Riddler makes one (1) sex joke about Batman
Will be crossposted to AO3 eventually
(Pt. 1 here) (Prev here) - (Pt. 5 here)
(Masterlist here)
—
Dr. Jonathan Crane is in his lab, the acrid scent of chemicals filling the air, and his hands are shaking.
Danny’s health, for the first week that he had him, had been steadily improving at an extremely quick rate. However, his healing had begun to stagnate. Danny said that it was because his body had run out of ectoplasm, and that while there was a lot of ambient ectoplasm in Gotham, he needed a stronger type in order to heal.
And so, that led Dr. Crane here.
He had stolen the research notes from the Penguin years ago regarding his experimentation on him.
(He quite vividly remembers the sound of bone creaking and groaning as it twisted, lengthened. The squelching of shifting tendons and muscles, the strange fabric-like tightening of skin. The feeling of going from man to monster, of losing all claim to his humanity.)
Danny had called him Liminal, part ghost. He had said that he was transformed by, among other things, a kind of synthetic ectoplasm.
Danny needed ectoplasm.
Crane had the research notes. He had every ingredient necessary. And yet, attempt after attempt failed.
The chemical smell burns his nose. His hands tremble.
Dr. Crane is not afraid.
He doesn’t feel fear anymore. He’s tried to, many, many times, but nothing has worked. And yet, his hands are shaking still.
(The horrifying sensation of vertebrae pop-pop-popping along his spine, growing and lengthening. The unbearable itching beneath his skin as toxin glands begin to form. The feeling of his teeth sharpening and elongating, of his skull growing, of his vision changing and brightening. The awful stench of chemicals. The awful stench of ectoplasm.)
Jonathan takes careful note of his shaking hands, his blurring vision, his accelerated heart-rate and shallow breathing.
(Human hands. Human vision. Human heart and lungs and organs.)
He takes note of them, but he does not let that distract him from the task at hand. Danny is not a chemist, but Jonathan is.
The boy knows enough about chemistry in theory, but he won’t go anywhere near Crane’s equipment. He seems to have some sort of intense fear of laboratory settings, probably developed during his stay with the GiW, and Crane is willing to respect that, if only because he cannot afford to lose him.
As such, Crane is the only one qualified to do this. And, unfortunately, if he isn’t successful the boy may very well die.
He heats the chemicals to precisely the right temperatures, adding each one to its correct container.
Dr. Crane thinks of the Scarebeast, that creature born of cruelty and greed and a sense of superiority. That creature which he tries to ignore is a part of him, that can never be removed. A damage which cannot be undone.
He pours the contents of a small beaker into a larger flask, watching the liquids swirl together. The stench in the air is becoming closer and closer to the one burned into his memory.
Crane’s whole body is wracked with unpleasant sensations. It’s truly unfortunate, he thinks, that despite his mind’s lack of fear, his body still reacts so harshly.
Jonathan’s eyes wander, eventually settling on a purple and green card sitting innocently on the corner of the table.
Right.
Even if they wiped out the GiW tomorrow, and even if Danny could survive without ectoplasm, he would still be in danger.
Crane has to get him back to good health. It’s the only way he can be sure that the boy can defend himself properly.
The solution in the flask begins to foam, and Jonathan does not hesitate as he adds the final ingredient. He pours the mixture into a new container, capping it and placing it into a freezer set to -40 degrees.
Hopefully this time he got the timing right.
Jonathan tries to relax, the ventilation in the room slowly but surely clearing the familiar smell from the air.
He thinks of the letter.
Surely, he thinks, that man can come up with some better material for his jokes. Or, at least something new.
Same old threats, same old attempted poisoning.
Aiming his threats at Danny, though, that was new. New and utterly unacceptable.
Scarecrow did what he had to.
He doubted that his solution would last forever, of course, as with that man it never did. As such, he would prepare both himself and Danny for the inevitable moment that his choices came back to bite them.
However, for the moment, they were safe. Danny could rest and recover, and Jonathan could figure out a plan to minimize possible damages.
Jonathan is no longer shaking.
He’s exhausted. This is his fifth attempt today, and each one leaves an unfortunate strain on his mind and body.
With a sigh, he settles himself into his seat at a nearby desk, opening up his computer and logging his most recent attempt. He still has to wait for it to chill to know if it was successful, but he can always update the logs later.
Once he’s done, he stretches, joints popping loudly as he walks to the freezer.
When he sees the results of his tireless work, the ghost of a smile flits across his face.
Success.
Jonathan picks up the jug of ectoplasm and leaves the lab, which is in all actuality the basement of the new apartment that he moved himself and Danny into after receiving the note. The scrappy old woman who was his landlord had told him that as long as he paid her five hundred dollars up front, she would let him set up in the basement without any questions or cop calls.
And so, the most expensive apartment in the Narrows was his.
At least, he thought, the distance between the basement and the apartment was short enough that Danny didn’t have to sit in while he was doing his labwork.
Jonathan knew that he didn’t exactly have a strong grasp on the concept of ‘lab safety,’ proven by his built-up immunity to almost every toxic chemical he’d ever encountered, and he doubted that Danny should be around such an environment.
He was back to the apartment quickly, not bothering to hide the self-satisfied smile on his face. Danny is sitting in his armchair, trying to read one of his books. Danny looks up, ready to greet him, when he sees the jug in his hands and pauses.
“Is that..?”
“Synthetic ectoplasm,” Jonathan says proudly, “I found the Penguin’s research notes and decided to recreate it, since you said that you needed it to heal properly. I’m not sure if it’ll work the same as what you usually have, but I hope it’s helpful all the same.”
Danny is standing, now, and looking at Jonathan with a strange look in his eyes. He looks, Jon thinks, like he’s about to cry.
Then Danny is rushing forward and wrapping his arms around Jonathan, his scrawny form shaking.
Jonathan is, for a moment, horrified. Did he do something wrong somehow? Why is this child, who’s so afraid of touch, hugging him?
And then he hears Danny’s voice, and he knows that it was all worth it.
“Thank you,” he’s mumbling, over and over, “thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you so much.”
“Of course,” Jonathan says softly, because what else can he say?
The boy cries in his arms for a while, and Jonathan briefly wonders what his life must have been like before, if a person like him can be seen as a comforting figure.
Then, Danny pours himself a small glass of the synthetic ectoplasm, putting the rest into the small fridge which had come with the apartment, and he settles back down, sitting in the armchair once again.
Jonathan sits opposite of him, and they chat with one another as Danny drinks.
Danny talks to him about the stars and tells him about different spaceships, and Jonathan makes sure to pay attention and ask the boy questions.
He doesn’t miss the way that Danny lights up every time he asks him something about his interests. He’s so passionate, so smart, a trait that he seldom sees outside of his fellow rogues, and Jonathan wants to encourage that.
It’s…nice. Peaceful, almost.
And then the front door flies open, because Jonathan isn’t allowed to have nice things.
“Jon,” a familiar voice rings out, “what the hell?!”
Danny is frozen in place, clearly terrified.
Jonathan heaves a sigh, turning to face the nuisance who’s entered his apartment.
“Eddie,” he drawls, “to what do I owe the pleasure?”
Edward’s face is red with anger as he invades Jonathan’s apartment.
“Oh, I don’t know! Maybe it’s the fact that you sent a bunch of rogues a cryptic message and then dropped off the face of the earth for two weeks! I was worried, Jon!”
Jonathan hums in acknowledgement.
“I didn’t think it was that cryptic,” he says, picking up a book in order to pointedly ignore the Riddler.
“Oh, of course you didn’t, you straw-stuffed hickory dickory dickhead. I swear, you’re always—” he pauses, finally having noticed Danny sitting opposite of Jonathan, “—who is this?”
“My apprentice,” Jonathan replies, dreading the upcoming headache he was no doubt going to develop from Edward’s company, “he’s helping me hunt down the GiW. His name is Danny.”
Edward gasps dramatically.
“You—an apprentice?! And you’re letting him sit in the old man chair?! You don’t even let me sit in the old man chair,” he wails, draping himself over the headrest of the couch with a flourish, “Jonathan, I thought I knew you!”
“Edward,” Jonathan says, “get out of my apartment.”
“Oh my goodness, this is incredible. You’re becoming the bat!”
“I am not becoming the bat, Eddie, now get out.”
Edward has a shit-eating grin on his face as he waltzes over to Danny. Danny, who seemed terrified when he first appeared, is now looking at him with obvious amusement written all over his face.
“I mean, look at him! The hair, the eyes, the scrappy build. If you put him in one of those traffic light vigilante costumes, he could easily pass as a Robin!”
“I’m not doing this with you today, Eddie.”
“Riddle me this, Jon: I am a treasure hidden inside of a chest. You can break me, or steal me, or give me a rest. I can flutter, or pound, or attack, or drop, but if you don’t have me, you’re certainly fucked. What am I?”
Jonathan pauses for a moment before he groans, dropping his head into his hands.
“Eddie.”
Danny sits still, a confused look on his face as he repeats the riddle silently. Then, his face lights up in delight.
“A heart!”
“Jon, I like this one,” Edward says with a smile, ruffling Danny’s hair, “you are correct! A heart, something that I wasn’t aware that our dear Jonathan had!”
“Eddie, stop.”
“No, no,” Edward says, “I was worried about you, you deserve this. I mean, you even missed girls night! You never miss girls night!”
“Girls night?” Danny asks, absolutely delighted.
“Oh, of course,” Edward says, sprawling over on the couch, dangerously close to just laying in Jonathan’s lap, “we have it once a week. I’m invited because of Selina and Jon’s invited because Harley likes him.”
“And what does girls night entail, exactly?”
“Eddie,” Jonathan groans, “please.”
“Well,” Edward hums, “we usually paint our nails, or watch a movie, or gossip about the other rogues, and occasionally, we tell each other about any ‘encounters’ we have with Batman,” he says, raising his eyebrows up and down.
Danny’s jaw drops.
“Edward, shut up,” Jonathan says, an irritated tone in his voice that wasn’t there before.
“No way,” Danny says, “I thought that Batman, like, hated you guys or something. You mean he actually..?”
“Oh, the Bat is much like a bottle of liquor or a cheap cigarette, in that he was made to be passed around.”
Danny chokes on air.
“Edward Nygma,” Jonathan hisses, getting out of his seat and looming over the man, “get the hell out.”
Edward pales.
“Leaving, leaving!” Edward says, dashing away from Jonathan. He pauses, turning to flash Danny a quick smile.
“Remember Danny, I’m your favorite uncle! Not any of the other rogues, me!”
With that, he leaves, the room falling completely silent.
And, as per usual, that silence does not last.
“You full-named him?” Danny asks gleefully, “and it worked?”
Jonathan just sighs, sitting down on the couch and rubbing at his temples.
“Please, don’t take anything Eddie says seriously. He’s a moron.”
“Dr. Crane, please let me come to girls night with you,” Danny pleads, his eyes sparkling, “I promise I won’t embarrass you.”
Jonathan groans.
“Of course you won’t, Eddie will do it for you.”
“Come on, please?”
“I think we’re a bit busy with the GiW at the moment,” Jonathan snaps. He pauses as he notices the crestfallen expression on Danny’s face.
This boy is going to be the death of him.
“Perhaps, though, when all that is taken care of…”
Danny cheers, grinning wildly, and Jonathan is not at all relieved to see him happy again. Certainly not.
The rest of the day is relatively normal.
Danny works on trying to get information from the GiW database while Crane refines his his fear toxin, both preparing for a raid on the GiW base they located in Gotham.
It was only a temporary base, nothing of note, but there was a chance of discovering more bases through it, and that wasn’t something either of them were willing to give up.
Still, something like this would take time. Rushing would only lead to failure.
…
Late in the night, long after Danny is fast asleep in his room, Jonathan pauses.
The GiW are not the only threat out there. They aren’t the only threat to him or to Danny. Perhaps it could be helpful to reach out to someone with greater resources than himself.
He sends a quick message to Red Hood.
Hopefully, he thinks, everything will go smoothly.
—
#dcxdp#dc x dp#dp x dc#dpxdc#dp x dc crossover#dc x dp fic#liminal scarecrow#Jon’s PTSD is triggered by the smell of ectoplasm because his life is a nightmare#HDJFNDNDNFKDJF#I am the master of emotional whiplash#rip Jon just trying to have some peace in this fucking house#never gonna happen king 🫡#oh also Eddie is not lying that bat can manwhore#and like half the rogues in Gotham know this from experience#and also most of the JL#and some of JL dark#btw Eddie and Jon are besties#they’re both awful but they make it work#when Jon full-names Eddie that just means that if he doesn’t stop whatever he’s doing he’s gonna get a dose of fear toxin#Eddie isn’t intimidating enough to full-name anyone so if he gets mad he just bashes whoever in the head with his cane#Jon is the living embodiment of ‘me and my girl don’t argue she bash me in the head with a rock and I walk it off like a man’#also side note I’m not doing any ships in this#because I don’t want to#they are just Like That#if you wanna read it that way though it’s completely fine#also shoutout 2 that one scriddler fic on ao3 that helped inspire that riddle LMAO
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yall need to stop making ao3 trend just because because my heart DROPPED
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Update from Kazue Katoh's Twitter
The Blue Exorcist hiatus will be extended for another month (through the November issue)
[Drawing of Katoh apologizing] Sorry for all the delays!
As Blue Exorcist celebrates its 15th anniversary, I'm taking my first ever unplanned three-month break from publishing it. I think it's about time to share more information on the situation with my readers...It's a personal matter but I'd like to tell you.
I was actually diagnosed with an illness at my regular checkup in March, and I've spent the last few months working in between hospital visits.
I've finished surgery, which went well, and I've been discharged for the time being, but I needed extra time for post-op treatment so I'm going to have to extend the hiatus.
It's ended up as a long 3-month wait, and I'm sorry about that!
I'll be keeping my exact diagnosis private for now, but in my case it shouldn't be life-threatening with proper treatment.
I'm currently back to work and feeling good, so don't worry too much!
[Drawing of Katoh in a hospital bed] I actually got excited for my first hospitalization, and my first surgery, and my first general anesthesia, and my first catheter... Maybe it's a manga artist thing. I had my catheter removed by a nurse who apparently reads Blue Exorcist, haha, nothing can scare me anymore (*Catheter=a tube that goes directly in the urethra) (Nurse: Take a deep breath and I'll take it out when you exhale...)
[Drawing of Katoh at the gym] I got back to the gym 3 days after I was discharged from the hospital! They said exercise will be good for my recovery.
The current plan is:
Next month: There will be no Blue Exorcist chapter in the November issue of Jump SQ (which comes out in October), but I'm drawing a new poster for it!
The month after next: Blue Exorcist is scheduled to return in the December issue of Jump SQ (which comes out in November.)
At any rate, I'll be continuing treatment alongside work for a while, so there may be times when that impacts my work and makes you all worry...Apologies in advance! My soul couldn't rest if I died before finishing Blue Exorcist, so I'm hoping to stick around and keep drawing it while I continue my treatment.
All this has just been spurring on my inconsistency as an author, but I hope you'll stick with Blue Exorcist going forward!
Kazue Katoh, Sept 4, 2024
[Drawing of Katoh making a determined little fist] And take care of yourselves too! Get your annual checkups!
#blue exorcist#ao no exorcist#translation#GIRL TAKE THE REST OF THE YEAR OFF IT'S FINE#you sound like a stereotypical AO3 author casually dropping bombshell life updates in the comments of a new chapter lol#Glad the prognosis sounds good at least
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true hell is getting an 8k chapter email update for a fic you’ve been waiting for for MONTHS and saying “oh no, I’ll leave it for after work” and then ao3 deciding to 503 like it’s got a fucking terrible sense of humor.
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parted from me *sobs* *drinks beer* *slams it down on the counter* and never parted
#i was browsing spirks tag on ao3 how are we doing today#im not fine#t'hy'la fics will be the end of me i swear#star trek#st tos#star trek tos#spirk#star trek spirk#spock#jim kirk
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#writers of tumblr#fanfiction#ao3#writting#writers#polls#writeblr#writerscommunity#fic writing#writers and poets#i was originally talking about writing FICS#but writing everything is fine too#y'all shitting THIS is my most popular post?
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ao3 is down. so, like,,,,
how are you guys? how,,, how has your day. been? good? okay. happy 4 u.
sorry. i dont know how to talk to human beings.
#GOING FERAL#i have fics downloaded im fine#BUT UGHHHH#give it back#ao3#ao3 is down#and im sad#marauders#i miss them so much
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