“GOD, I’M SO FUCKING IN LOVE WITH YOU.”
3k words -> the bracelet you make isagi ends up becoming his most prized possession, and his lucky charm. afab! reader
miss @yaakultt my dearly beloved several snack runs have been run since i promised to type this up for you many a moons ago but now i’m goddamn here to deliver 😤😤 hope you enjoyed your boba!! now come get your soft (and occasional still feral! 👀) isagi <33
cw: mostly fluff, but sassy isagi does make an appearance. slight suggestive themes. cursing. this is barely proofread we die like men. also the way this was supposed to be short and sweet nah clearly i’m incapable of doing that 💀💀
“you made this? for me?”
there’s a hitch to his voice, as if he needs to push the words through a mesh strainer in his throat - but he prevails, gaze bouncing between your face and the colourful bracelet in your outstretched palms. the cobalt of his eyes glisten with so many stars you’re convinced they sucked in the night sky whole.
under his unrelenting focus, the corners of your lip quirk up into a nervous grin on their own accord. the memories of your amateur craftsmanship are still crisp in your mind like a sheet of freshly fallen snow. you’ve spent embarrassingly long hours on this - gingerly deliberating which colour strings would suit him, then trying your best to make the knots look even and stick to the pattern.
it feels more intimate than you’d thought it would, strangely, gifting him something you dedicated an overflowing amount of time, effort - and so so much genuine, loving care to.
“yeah! wanted you to have it as a reminder that i’m always cheering you on no matter what, since, ya know, i probably won’t be able to make it to all of your games. i am but one girl, after all.”
isagi goes incredibly still, stunned all the way into next week, mouth agape like a fish suddenly sprung out of water. with your nerves already feeling like they’ve been diced thin in a blender, you immediately jump to the wrong conclusion.
“no pressure for you to wear it, obviously,” you chuckle, but there’s little humour in it when, through this new, panic-induced light, the fumbles and imperfections of your handiwork that you deemed barely noticeable (or at least passable) before now seem to poke your eyes out like a vicious flock of crows.
“it is uh, very very wonky-lookin’ so--”
“no.”
while your relationship with isagi is still in its early stages, you’ve known him long enough by now to learn that wherever soccer’s not concerned, he turns into an absolute sweetheart - a man with an ultimately sincere and kind soul.
he borderline acts like one of those lame, rom-com cliche boyfriends, but you never had the heart to tell him, nor had any real desire for his behaviour to change. not when all of his stupid, cheesy antics make you want to kiss him into a lovesick puddle - a response he’s eager to receive each and every time.
there’s no trace of that endearingness now, however, as his muscled chest falls and crests in waves underneath his sweat-soaked practice shirt, a slight heave to his breathing. his stubborn gaze clings to you still, not having wondered once, so you don’t miss the tendril of assertiveness blazing in his eyes - a little leftover ego from the field he brought home with him today.
“no,” he repeats, and your toes curl, because his voice sounds just as raspy as when he rouses in the morning. “you’re not just a girl, baby. you’re the girl, yeah? my girl.”
isagi offers you his hand, wrist up, finally breaking from his immobile trance.
“let me wear it, please. i want to wear it.”
“okay,” you say, but it’s barely a breath with how parched your throat is from his words.
you gently loop the bracelet around his wrist, double knotting it at his request, “so it doesn’t fall off, babe.” when the excess string is cut off, you watch him, all soft and fond, as he swings his arm around to admire the bracelet from different angles like a giddy kid at christmas testing out a new toy.
you’re about to open your mouth to ask if he likes it when he turns to you in a whirlwind with the biggest grin splitting his cheeks in two.
“i love it. i really, really fucking love it.”
with the wind still knocked out of you from his brilliant smile, you can’t manage more than a mushy “yeah?”
“yeah, baby. you have no idea. thank you.” then you’re swept into his strong arms lined with lean muscle, his forehead salty with sweat buried into your chest, but you welcome it, a laugh bubbling to the surface as he twirls around with you.
in a manner of seconds, isagi has you squished into the couch underneath him, claiming your mouth with a newfound, insatiable fervour, his whispers of “god, i’m so fucking in love with you” between the divine licks of his tongue turning your stomach into something molten - and you wonder if you’re also just a lame girlfriend, wanting to be kissed lovesick by this man - your man.
isagi doesn’t stop being enamoured by the bracelet for weeks to come, constantly stealing glances at it or playing with a loose thread here and there absentmindedly.
one early morning, when you already miss him without him even having gone to practice, he indulges you for a few more minutes - as he always does when you crave his presence - cupping your pouty cheeks in his large, calloused palms and murmuring sweet nothings into your tussled hair.
you bask in his lingering attention for a while longer before you sigh and resolve yourself to let him go for the day, dipping your chin to press a tender kiss to the inside of his wrist, right where the bracelet lay.
“good luck out there, yoichi. you better score some goals for me.”
you haven’t put much thought into the gesture, but when you wriggle out of his hold, you’re rewarded with the sight of your very lame, very flustered boyfriend trying to garble out some semblance of a response and hide the flush of his ears.
so you keep doing it, watching his bashful blushes transform into delighted hums over time, until it becomes a habit. now whenever you don’t kiss the inside of his wrist in the morning, especially before a game, isagi’s sure to throw a fit, behaving like a moody grouch or an attention-starved child until you give in and smother him in affection.
as the months trickle by, the bracelet starts to lose its initial vibrancy, succumbing to the elements of the outside world and the continuous physical nature of isagi’s career. you remind him multiple times, gently, that you won’t be upset if he decides to cut it off, seeing that it hasn’t only become threadbare, but also a little gross and soggy and smelling just a tinge of his sweat - but he’s adamant.
“y/n, honey, i’m being a 100% serious when i say the only way this bracelet is coming offa me is if it actually physically rots off. not considering any other way, babe.”
and it’s absolutely infuriating, because you know he’s being a cheeky little shit about it, but he’s also so incredibly thoughtful that you’re past the point of kissing him all over into a puddle. you want to devour your stupid perfect boyfriend - and who’s to stop you?
when the soccer off-season finally ends, isagi’s first tournament game takes him overseas, but swamped as you are with your own job requirements, you can’t afford to fly and cheer him on in person.
you make sure to rush home for the live broadcast, however, flinging your bag and shoes into random corners of your apartment before diving onto the couch and flicking on the TV, just in time for the kickoff. but instead of hearing the shrill blow of the starting whistle, you see one of the refs approach isagi to engage in a heated discussion that he looks less and less happy to be a part of with every passing minute.
there’s no audio provided, so with your eyebrows scrunched together, you try to read their lips in an attempt to discern what the issue could possibly be before the game has even started. then, to your horror, you catch the ref subtly pointing at your boyfriend’s hand, at the bracelet you made him, and realise oh shit. they want him to take it off.
while you haphazardly scramble to find your phone, on an artificially green field several oceans and miles away, isagi spies rin facepalming from the corner of his eyes as the referee moves closer - but he’s prepared, shoulders squared and hellbent on not backing down.
he’s been proudly showing off your bracelet to his teammates - and whoever else was willing to let him nag their ears off about it - from day one. with how utterly obsessed he was with your lucky charm, he could only smile at the merciless teasing he was subjected to - even if others were less than enthusiastic about the idea of him wearing it.
“waaahh, your girlfriend made this, isagi? that’s so cool! she must really loooooovvee yoouuu,” bachira fake cooed with a shit-eating grin dancing on his lips, fingers too quick for isagi to bat away as he kept incessantly poking his sides during one of their water breaks. while he was still a little sheepish to reveal the origins of his new accessory, isagi was also way too smug not to brag about it to his best friend.
“she does love me, thank you very much. what, you jealous, bachira? hey! you get those freakishly long fingers away from me now or i stop passing to you.”
“boooo, you’re still an awful liar, man. as if you don’t only think about yourself and your own goals, e-go-ist.”
“the only thing that bracelet is is an inconvenience.”
the banter immediately dies down at the harsh words, bachira halting his pinching to begrudgingly climb out of isagi’s personal space and frown at rin.
“come on, rin-chan. i thought my ‘how to be nice’ lessons were starting to pay off.”
“this has nothing to do with ‘being nice’. i’m being realistic.”
over the years, isagi learned how to navigate the vicious waves of rin’s notorious temper, and while he had to admit that the emotionally constipated eyelash emo has gotten considerably better at communication, rin still couldn’t care less about crossing the fucking line.
isagi has never let much slide when it came to rin’s bullshit, anyway, but insulting something precious to him? insulting you? it made the blood in his veins roar.
“you want to repeat that, itoshi?”
he knew he hit a nerve when rin’s mouth twisted into an ugly scowl.
“i spoke clearly enough, isagi. you know no forms of jewellery are allowed during official games. if not me, then somebody’s gonna make you take off your useless bracelet eventually.”
in the crushing silence stretched thin between them, bachira’s mantra of “say no to violence! say no to violence!” and nagi’s “man, what a pain” went completely ignored. despite the few inches isagi had gained, rin still towered above him, but that didn’t stop him from having the audacity to push himself up against rin’s chest.
“i’d like to see them try,” isagi clapped back. “i’m not the slightest bit interested in the advice of someone too pissy to get into a relationship.”
“why you fucking lukewarm little–”
“i trust you both remember that i don’t tolerate any fighting on my field that isn’t in the form of soccer.”
at ego’s interruption, isagi shoved himself away from rin, saving the younger itoshi brother from throwing the first punch.
“now, isagi yoichi,” ego continued, craning his unnaturally long neck at him. “itoshi rin is quite correct. jewellery is strictly forbidden from being worn during the duration of any game. why delay the inevitable? to spare your partner’s feelings?”
no. how could he explain that this had everything and nothing to do with you? of course you’d be a little ruffled if he was forced to remove it, but you would suck it up. get over it. because you’re kind, and most heartwrenchingly, you’d understand. but he’s incapable of it. he rejects the possibility of having to tell you he can’t wear your lucky charm altogether. this is all his doing. he’s the one who wants to keep the bracelet - he’s the one who needs it.
“you want my ego for this team, shitty four eyes?” isagi seethed. “then the bracelet stays the fuck on. i’ll deal with the consequences.”
ego mulled this over, touching his fingertips together like some true cartoon villain. “so be it, isagi yoichi. you better not disappoint me.”
so here isagi was, dealing with the consequences.
“mr. isagi. you must be aware that we don’t allow accessories of any kind to be worn during gameplay to protect players from any possible injury, right?” the referee’s condescension grates on his pride, lecturing him as if he were a kindergartener in need of a reminder, but isagi doesn’t bite.
“yes.”
“i’m afraid you must take that bracelet off, then.”
“no.”
the referee’s shock is evident through his rapid-fire blinks. the reply was instantaneous. no hesitation. no questions asked.
“excuse me?”
“i said no. i won’t be able to put it back on once i take it off. it would need to be permanently cut off.”
“then for your safety, i insist that you do just that.”
“i refuse.”
“surely you don’t want to risk ending up at the hospital, mr. isagi.”
“i don’t. but i’ll go to the hospital if i have to. with my bracelet.”
the referee is at a loss from his sheer bafflement. isagi feels rin’s and ego’s gazes burn a fire right through his skull. somewhere behind him, bachira is doing a very poor job of trying not to laugh his ass off.
the referee heaves a great sigh and puts his hands on his hips like a mother hen. isagi’s having none of it.
“are you quite serious about this?”
“oh, you have no idea, ref.”
“fine. you brought this upon yourself.” then he blows the whistle, not to start the game, but to stick a yellow card to his name.
isagi doesn’t fight it - the ridicule and mockery of the other team as they point fingers at him. he doesn’t care, couldn’t give two shits about these losers, not when he got to keep his lucky charm. so he stays on his best behaviour (mostly) and wins the fucking game.
as a goal scorer, isagi has first dibs on the showers, so he’s amongst one of the firsts to towel himself off in a locker room full of his perspiry, half-naked, celebrating teammates. he fidgets with the ends of his now wet bracelet as he fishes for his phone in his duffle bag, chuckling at the string of panicky messages you left him.
from: loml y/n <3
ohymgod yoichi what. are you doing. [4:37PM]
i know you realistically won’t see this until later but i’m hoping to project the vibe that it is LITERALLY FINE. just TAKE. IT OFF. [4:41PM]
i can always make you a new one ????? [4:43PM]
:000000000000 [4:46PM]
ain’t no WAY you just swallowed a yellow card for that you [4:47PM]
stupid [4:47PM]
dumb [4:47PM]
idiot [4:48PM]
he’s about to text you back when your caller ID flashes on his screen. he picks up on the first ring.
“hi babe. did you see the game? i scored a goal just for you.”
“yeah honey, i did see. congrats, you played so well. but yoichi.”
you sound as exasperated as the poor ref. isagi wonders if you can feel him grinning through the phone. (you can. you absolutely can. you hate and love it at the same time.)
“i thought i went by stupid dumb idiot now.”
“you might as fucking well.” you sigh into the receiver, but it’s more doting than anything. “why would you go through all that trouble, huh, yoichi? it’s really not that big of a deal, ya know. like i said, i’d be happy to make you a new one.”
isagi wishes so badly he was home right now, facing you, so you could read the sincerity in his eyes, how lovesick and infatuated he was with you all the time. but he isn’t, so he settles for pouring everything into his next words.
“i appreciate that baby, but i want you to know that it is a big deal, okay? you made that bracelet just for me. to cheer me on no matter what, you said. i’m not taking it off. never gonna take it off if i can help it. it’s my lucky charm. even if it’s gross and soggy.”
back on the couch, your heart’s a careening mess of joyous summersaults, eyes glassy with unshed, mushy tears.
“it also smells of sweat like, more intensely every day,” you add on all squeaky and lame, trying to keep a cool composure when you’re about to combust from your love for him at any second. isagi takes it in stride, as if he knows. as if he understands.
“of course, baby. can’t forget that.”
“god, i’m so fucking in love with you.”
“hey,” he teases. “you know that’s my line.”
and it is. it’s both of your lines, always.
(for a few weeks, isagi is known as the guy who scored a yellow card before even the kickoff, so when a referee approaches him during the start of the next game, he already has him pinned with a heinous death glare.
“i fucking dare you,” he says, and it’s all the ref can do not to shit his pants at the threat. isagi gets off scot-free for the rest of the tournament.
when the bracelet does, eventually, rot off isagi’s wrist, your ever lame boyfriend actually mourns it with a few tears - but you’re quick to assure him he doesn’t have to go without one for long. you anticipated this for a while, and have already made him a new one, if he’d like to put it on.
and isagi thinks that yes, he’d very much like to put it on, but it’s also about damn time he got you something. maybe not a bracelet, but something a bit smaller. something that would fit snuggly around your ring finger, and sparkle with a diamond.
he just know you’d look exquisite with it.)
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congrats on 1 year!! I’m so glad to have met you doing that time! 🩵
For the prompts I chose:
for the first time i had something to lose
And I’d like it with Rin from bluelock ofc (I know no one is surprised) 🩵 I don’t have a preference for trope, just whatever you want to do with it is fine!
itoshi rin x for the first time I had something to lose
request a character + prompt here :)
“I don’t understand why you’re being so difficult about this”
“And I don’t understand why we can’t eat in silence”
A deep scowl settles over your pretty face and, as he glances up from his plate at your stubborn silence, Rin lets out an impatient snort.
“You’re being the difficult one, you know that, right?” he takes another bite from just one of the million onigiri his mom has left on the kitchen counter before heading out.
“I’m curious, sue me” you brush your hands clean of any food remnants and he barely resists the urge to roll his eyes while inching forward to swipe your bottom lip with his thumb to collect a few rice grains. You can’t help the heat the crawls up from your neck up to the very roots of your hair as he casually brings the same thumb to his mouth, teal gaze unimpressed.
“Yes, I felt nervous about entering blue lock. Now drop it”
You perk up right away, satisfied smile creeping onto your lips.
“Knew it! Why were you nervous?”
Instead of replying or even going as far as acknowledging your question, he takes both your plates and gets up to wash them.
“Rin?”
He doesn’t even have the decency to hum in response, exceptionally busy making sure all traces of grease and soy sauce are eradicated under the strokes of the soapy sponge he’s digging his fingers into.
“I literally can’t stand you”
“Really?” he peers at you from over his shoulder, plates finally clean enough to be set in the black drying rack by the sink “I seem to remember a different version of that statement from last night. Just like that, oh god, love you so fucking much Rin, keep-”
“Do not finish that sentence, Itoshi” you hiss, thankful as ever for being the only ones currently home. He’s shameless like that, always has been.
One could easily think he’s just a closed off, self entitled asshole, and he is most of the time. But for those who have been in his life long enough to make it past the fences he’s put up, Rin Itoshi is actually so much more. A respectful son who enjoys visiting his parents whenever he can, if he’s sure he’s the only one traveling home. Certainly grumpy but always kind enough to thank cashiers at the grocery store and wish anyone who serves him a nice day. He hardly forgets important dates and occasions, always has flowers delivered for his mom’s birthday and expensive, vintage vinyl records sent as presents for his dad’s.
There’s a playful side to him, too. He’s a sucker for inappropriate jokes, mainly because he can keep a straight face as the person unfortunate enough to be his target practically combusts from embarrassment. He’ll never admit it but he actually doesn’t mind spending time with some of the guys he had met through Ego’s project. You wouldn’t go as far as calling them his friends but, except for a few old school mates, he doesn’t really spend time with anyone else. He’ll say they’re a fucking headache but you’ll still catch him grumpily correcting Bachira’s english accent over voice memos or cursing under his breath whenever Isagi calls but picking up nonetheless.
You, however, along with his parents, are the luckiest. Rin still allows you to catch glimpses of the affectionate child he once was, full of life and smiling so much his cheeks would hurt all the time. His dream has stayed the same and he’s still working his ass off to fulfill it but what’s also stayed the same throughout the years is the value he gives you. You’re one of the very few parts of his life he deems irreplaceable. It’s been like that ever since primary school, precisely since the day you had decided to sit with him at lunch and insisted on sharing the vanilla purin your mom had packed for you.
He still remembers the flush heating up his entire face at your excited we’re gonna be best friends not even ten minutes after meeting him. And sure enough, while you never left him, he also never found it in himself to leave you. Not after the sleepless nights, the draining study sessions, that time he got drunk and you had to retrieve him from the small football field close to his house, the first brush of lips while still in high school, the same one that still works its magic and makes every place feel like home as long as you’re close enough.
“Rin, you know those are not yours!” your anger is as fleeting as the offence you take, his teasing long forgotten as you eye the popsicle he’s just grabbed from the freezer.
“Want one?” he deflects, well aware of the fact that you prefer ice cream. You narrow your gaze at him.
“Sae is visiting next week, you already had your share”
He doesn’t even mind hearing his brother’s name, not if it rolls off your tongue.
“Don’t care” he states and offers the tiniest smirk as he sits across from you once again but grabs your sleeve first, tugging until you give in with a sigh.
“You really are insufferable” but who would believe you actually mean it? Not him. Not as you sit on his lap and gently brush some hair away from his eyes. His gaze flickers to the small, already fading mark he's left on your neck the previous night, a shadow just underneath your jaw. Rin already wants to freshen it up.
“Can you really not guess why I was nervous?”
You shrug and tilt your head to the side, genuinely curious.
He drops his head enough to rest his forehead on your shoulder, watermelon popsicle already melting and making a sticky mess of his fingers.
“For the first time, I had something to lose” he mutters against your skin.
But even then, he knew you would've waited for him. Just like he would always wait for you.
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The 40 x Kill the Justice League (3/4)
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@the-ravenclaw-werewolf and @purplemochi20055
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So, here's the third update on my The 40 x Kill the Justice League crossover fan comic!
Compared to the last two fan comics, I wasn't feeling too motivated or patient to draw the characters and setting as best as I could, but still intended to update what I'd started.
In this scene, the unbrainwashed members of The 40 witness the brainwashed Edward, Rin, and Avatar Korra spreading the message of Brainiac's terraforming of the Earth. By "spreading the message", they meant converting anyone they find into mechanical abominations for Brainiac's army or killing people who continue to resist in the most gruesome ways possible.
Furthermore, what form of irony can Brainiac think of by making Edward Elric (an implied agostic and an alchemist), Rin Okumura (a Japanese Christian and a Nephilim; human-demon hybrid), and Avatar Korra (a semi-divine being) into evangelical-type worshippers to him akin to Bishop Mozgus from Berserk? If anything, it shows that Brainiac does have a twisted sense of humor despite being fully cybernetic.
In a form of faux symbolism, I position Corrupted Edward, Rin, and Avatar Korra in a way that resembles the Holy Trinity.
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Profile: Corrupted Edward
Personality: Unlike the original Edward, Corrupted Edward has become full-on arrogant and assured of his alchemic knowledge, while also preaching of Brainiac's intended salvation for humanity despite the reality being far from it.
Powers and Abilities:
He possesses the same powers and abilities as his pre-brainwashed self but his intelligence and physical condition are further enhanced by cybernetics.
Light Manipulation: By using his alchemy, Corrupted Edward can transmute light, shaping it into a physical form of his choosing and manipulating it remotely. He can also use the light to either blind his opponents, heat up objects, or vaporize his targets into dust.
Fullmetal Mode: By using his alchemy, Corrupted Edward can encase himself in a full-body armor that looks similar to his younger brother's current body. This makes Corrupted Edward incapable of flinching from hits and can give powerful attacks and counterattacks.
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Profile: Corrupted Rin
Personality: Unlike the original Rin, Corrupted Rin has become full-on arrogant and remorseless but lacks the unrestrained temper tantrums that plague the original Rin. However, he's still capable of harming and killing others at the slightest provocation most quietly and politely, except those he cares for. Like Corrupted Edward, Corrupted Rin also preaches Brainiac's intended salvation for humanity despite the reality being far from it. Also, due to the circumstances of his birth (as the son of Satan conceived through a human mother), Corrupted Rin likens his newfound purpose to Jesus Christ; a savior descended from a god-like being to bring salvation for humanity by redeeming them (e.g. converting them into Brainiac's henchmen) and punishing "heretics" who resist Brainiac's terraforming by unilateral use of his Blue Flames. He's also fond of quoting scripture from the Bible (King James Version) in the most misguided way possible whenever he does what Brainiac orders him to do, with his favorite quote being Matthew 10:34; Think not that I am come to send peace on earth: I came not to send peace, but a sword.
Powers and Abilities:
He possesses the same powers and abilities as his pre-brainwashed self after awakening his Demonic Heritage but his physical condition is further enhanced by cybernetics.
Holy Resistance: Due to Brainiac's modifications, Rin's body is highly resistant to any attacks launched on him that are holy in nature, such as Holy Water.
Cold Generation: Through his incredible use and skill of his Blue Flames, Corrupted Rin can collect heat energy from an external source, or simply generate it, then transform the energy into sound, thus decreasing its temperature. Repeating the loop several times creates ice, which can be launched at opponents or create structures.
"Angel" Form: After various modifications to his body by Brainiac and through Corrupted Rin's own control of the Blue Flames, Corrupted Rin can transform into his "Demon" form with ease but it lacks a tail, has natural flaming wings, and is considered more powerful and dubbed as his "angel" form. Corrupted Rin can fly with ease, conjure massive fire storms, and shape his flames in various shapes.
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Profile: Corrupted Avatar Korra
Personality: Unlike the original Korra, Corrupted Korra has become full-on arrogant but very tactical and calm-minded. Like Corrupted Edward and Rin, she's also preaching Brainiac's intended salvation for humanity despite the reality being far from it.
Powers and Abilities:
She possesses the same powers and abilities as her pre-Brainwashed self but her physical condition is further enhanced by cybernetics.
Cosmic Battle Avatar: Thanks to the various modifications done to her body, Corrupted Avatar Korra can tap into the Avatar State with ease and create a fifty-foot-tall battle avatar made of cosmic energy that likens to herself. Corrupted Avatar Korra is extremely difficult to harm when using her Cosmic Battle Avatar and can bend the four elements with simply her mind and willpower. In addition, she can create constructs made up of either cosmic energy or any of the four elements to aid her in battle.
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Next Time: The 40 x Poppy Playtime (3/4)
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