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miracleonice87 · 3 years
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1,000 Nights
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a/n: in honor of Sid’s 1,000th career game. congratulations, SPC. you’ve come a long way, baby. story set in a non-covid-riddled universe.
warnings: swearing, alcohol
word count: 3.5k+
“I’m sorry I won’t be there tonight,” you sighed into the phone with a frown, tossing a stack of media briefings on your desk. “I just… I feel awful.“
“Baby, please, don’t apologize,” Sidney said softly, but so sincerely, on the other end. “Trust me, I get it. I mean, look, I wasn’t there for the thousandth press release you wrote, eh?”
You chuckled lightly, appreciative of your boyfriend’s efforts to make you feel better about missing the one thousandth game of his NHL career — a milestone that would come only once.
“It’s not quite the same,” you mumbled. “I just hate to miss it. But Kelsey promised me she’d FaceTime me the whole time.”
You heard the smile in Sid’s voice at the mention of his teammate’s wife, one of your closest friends, as he replied, “That’s nice. Listen, I don’t want you feeling bad about this, okay? We’ll celebrate when you come down next weekend.”
You drummed your fingers on your desk, then spotted your boss, Brendan Shanahan, quietly knocking before wincing, realizing he had interrupted your phone call. You shook your head, signaling it was no big deal, and waved him in.
“You got yourself a deal, Crosby,” you said as Brendan sat down in the chair across from you, a grin on his face.
“Alright, baby,” Sidney spoke. “I’ll let you get back to it. I love you, sweetheart.”
A weak smile crossed your face at his words, but you were certain you felt your heart splitting within your chest, the sting of missing him more painful today than most days.
“I love you, too,” you replied softly. “Call me after the game. And, hey, Sid?”
“Yeah?” Sid prompted.
You paused, knowing tears would likely be streaming down your cheeks if not for your friend and colleague seated on the other side of your desk.
“Congratulations,” you said solemnly. “I’m so proud of you.”
Your chest swelled at Sidney’s appreciative hum in response.
“Thank you, my love,” he said. “I’ll call you tonight. Bye.”
You said your own goodbye and dropped your phone to the oak desk, tipping your head back, emotionally exhausted.
Brendan gave you a sad smile. “You okay?” he asked quietly.
You heaved a deep breath, leaning forward to rest your elbows on your desk while rubbing at your temples.
“I guess so,” you began unconvincingly. “Just basically feeling like the worst girlfriend in the world today.”
Brendan offered an understanding nod, pausing before sitting straighter in his chair, sniffing casually. You’d known him for years now, since you started as an entry-level social media team member with the Leafs following your graduation from Pitt, before working your way to communications director three summers ago. The two of you had formed a near-instant bond, and now, you could read him like the back of your hand.
Which is how you knew he was up to something.
You folded your arms in front of you and narrowed your eyes at him.
“What?” was your only question.
Brendan couldn’t keep the smirk from his lips as he cleared his throat and reached into his inside suit jacket pocket for a stack of papers, folded together in thirds. He placed the parcel in front of you and nodded toward it, signaling you to open it.
Your eyes never leaving his, you reached for the papers and pulled them toward you. Your gaze eventually dropped to the stack and swiftly fell to the Air Canada logo printed in the upper corner. The breath left your lungs in a flash.
“You didn’t,” you whispered, looking back toward Brendan, who was now smiling widely.
“I might’ve,” he admitted.
You attempted to restrain your emotions, but your eyes burned with tears as you looked more carefully at the papers, scanning them furiously for more information.
Toronto (YYZ) to Pittsburgh (PIT) - First Class
Saturday, February 20, 2021 - Departs 1:38 p.m. EST
You shook your head repeatedly, blinking back the wetness that now blurred your vision.
“Brendan, I can’t-“
“Don’t finish that sentence,” he warned, pointing sternly at you. “Consider this an executive order. I already told the Pens staff you’d be there, and they’re emailing you over a pass. Family comes first here — you know that. That man is your family. You need to be with him tonight to celebrate.”
Tears fell freely down your cheeks now, and you quickly stood from your chair to round the desk and wrap your arms around Brendan’s neck.
“Thank you,” you whispered simply.
Brendan patted your back affectionately before you stepped back, standing up straight as you dabbed at the fallen tears on your cheeks.
“You’re welcome,” Brendan replied as he stood. “We’ll handle things here tonight, and we’ll see you back here for tomorrow night’s game, eh?”
You nodded furiously, a stupidly big smile on your face as you returned to your desk.
“Absolutely,” you confirmed. “And don’t worry — I’ll finish what I have going now and I’ll brief the interns before I go.”
Brendan nodded once and sent a wink your way as he neared the doorway.
“Please give Sidney my best, and congratulate him on behalf of us all,” Brendan requested. “He’s one hell of a player and one hell of a man. I’m glad I have the opportunity to know him better because of you.”
Overcome by emotion once again, you opened your mouth to respond, but decided against trusting your voice. You closed your mouth and nodded at Brendan one last time before he patted the doorpost and left you to finish your tasks at hand.
_____
“Shit, shit, shit,” you muttered upon realizing that traffic had stopped completely in the two blocks leading up Center Avenue to the arena.
You’d come through two airports in two countries, but the most vile threat to your seeing Sidney’s recognition ceremony was now two measly city blocks of Pittsburgh traffic.
Your Uber driver groaned. “Sorry, dear,” he said. “Looks like we’re gonna be backed up for a while.”
“Hey, it’s not your fault,” you assured, glancing at your phone to realize that it was already 6:42, giving you about ten minutes to get inside if you wanted to witness your the pregame festivities honoring your boyfriend.
You had only one option.
“You know what?” you began, unbuckling your seatbelt and reaching for your bag. “I’m just gonna run. Thank you so much for your time. I swear I’ll leave you a nice tip. ‘M sorry for leaving you stuck.”
You watched your driver’s eyes widen in the rearview mirror. “Miss, I don’t think that’s a good idea!” he tried to protest.
“Don’t worry,” you said. “I know my way. Again, thank you.”
With that, you jumped out of the car and set off toward the arena, walking briskly up the hill leading to the entrance. Your breath created small white puffs in the frigid air, and you pulled your coat around your waist more tightly, thankful that you had grabbed the woolen scarf hanging on the back of your office door at the last second before departing. You rushed up the sidewalk, burying the bottom half of your face within the warmth of the fabric, and retrieved your phone to pull up the pass that the Penguins’ front office had sent over earlier in the afternoon. You sighed in relief when you found it, and once more checked the time — 6:47.
You just might make it.
As you finally approached the arena doors, you made a beeline directly for the club level entrance, smiling when you saw a familiar face.
“Hi, Manny,” you said to your favorite arena attendant as he pushed the door open and welcomed you in from the cold.
“Well, look who it is!” Manny exclaimed, hugging you briefly. “I didn’t think you’d be here!”
“I didn’t either,” you panted, smiling. “But I made it.”
Manny patted your arm and looked toward his colleague.
“Joey, I’m gonna escort this young lady down to the tunnel so she can get a better view of tonight’s little event,” Manny said with a wink, pressing the button on the elevator in front of you.
“No, no, that’s okay,” you protested, shaking your head as he ushered you into the elevator. “Really, I can just go up to his suite and watch from there. I don’t need to go down to the tunnel.”
Manny laughed and shook his head, nodding to the elevator attendant. “I don’t think so, hun,” he chuckled. “Not on my watch. We’ll get you down there and give you an up-close view.”
You sighed, shrugging off your jacket and scarf and folding them over your arm.
“Thank you, Manny,” you said with a grateful smile. Manny nodded, just as the elevator doors opened to reveal the depths of the arena.
“Come on,” Manny motioned toward himself. “Give me your things, and you go.”
Acutely aware that the clock was really ticking now, you didn’t put up a fight and passed your belongings to Manny, who silently pointed toward the tunnel outside the home locker room, where you caught a glimpse the tail end of the line of Sidney’s teammates, with Geno bringing up the rear as the men made their way to their bench for the presentation.
At that moment, Geno happened to look to his right, spotting you immediately.
“You’re here!” he exclaimed, still walking behind his team. He threw his hands atop his head and laughed in disbelief. “Oh, my god, Sid will be so happy you’re here!”
You smiled at Geno’s excitement, nodding as he pumped his fist once before disappearing from sight.
As you reached the locker room doors, you took a deep breath, knowing that only one player was still behind them.
Sidney stepped out of the room, and you noted that his shoulders sagged slightly, his eyes downcast as he sighed softly, turning in the direction of the ice before pausing as the PA announcer started his introduction, rattling off Sid’s lengthy list of accomplishments.
You took that as your cue.
“Hi,” you uttered quietly.
His head whipping toward you, Sidney’s eyes found yours after the briefest of moments, wide and gleaming. He breathed your name; you only grinned.
In a heartbeat, he was in front of you, gathering your face in his hands as he kissed you feverishly.
When he eventually broke the kiss, he hurriedly whispered, “What are you doing here?”
You smiled, resting your hands on his shoulder pads. “Same thing everyone else is doing,” you answered. “Celebrating you.”
Sidney giggled incredulously. “God, I can’t believe you’re-“
“And now, please welcome to the ice, your captain-“
You shoved at Sidney’s chest with a gasp, pushing him toward the ice where the announcer’s voice echoed and the crowd roared.
“Go!” you shouted.
Sidney immediately reached for your hand, pulling you along as he passed the spot where you had planned to stand and watch, hidden from view.
“You’re coming with me,” Sidney said firmly even as you shook your head. He firmly nodded his own.
“Yes. My family’s out there already. Stand by them,” he instructed, eyes glimmering with joy.
Your ears began to ring — not just because of the crowd noise, but because of the intensity of it all. Parading you in front of the entire Penguins organization and 18,000 of his fans was not something Sidney took lightly, and you knew that. You’d been in attendance for milestone games before, sitting in the stands with his family, or with Mario in the suite. And, of course, you were aware that you’d been spotted in public by Sid’s side before — at dinner dates on Mount Washington and at bars on the North Shore — but this incredibly public gesture was something entirely new in your relationship with him. It was overwhelming, but somehow still felt right. And if Sid felt ready, then so did you. You’d do anything to make him smile the way he had when he first saw you tonight in the tunnel — especially on a night that was so sentimental, one that you’d look back on together for a lifetime.
And even if you had been hesitant, it didn’t much matter, because without a second to resist, you were walking out onto the unrolled carpet while Sidney skated alongside you, parallel to your path, as fans applauded. Troy, Trina, and Taylor were visibly stunned as they watched Sidney enter with you at his side. The crowd cheered Sidney louder and louder with each passing moment, and he waved and nodded in acknowledgement, while you reached the end of the carpet and were embraced by each of Sidney’s family members.
“When did you get here?!” Taylor asked through clenched teeth as she tried to remain composed, despite the signature Crosby laughter bubbling from her lips.
“Literally minutes ago,” you answered in the same manner as Trina murmured your name tearfully, shaking her head in astonishment.
Troy smiled warmly down at you, squeezing your shoulder.
“This is gonna mean the world to him,” Troy spoke softly.
You nodded in acknowledgement, incredibly thankful to be able to share in Sidney’s special moment next to the people who raised him.
When the crowd’s volume eventually faded enough for the PA announcer to begin the recognition, you still barely heard the words echoing from the loudspeakers. Instead, you focused on the man standing next to you — the one you’d loved since the day you met; the one who left you in awe each day, not because of his unmatched talent on the ice but because of the resolute goodness of his soul; the one who would, in time, surely be the person you decided to step away from your career for, to settle down beside, and to start a family with. Before him, you were sure that you would never slow down for long enough to get married and have children; after him, you thought about doing so every single day, and you were surprisingly thrilled by that very thought which used to send you into a panic.
This man meant so much to so many — this night was proof of that — but he meant the most to you, and you knew without a doubt that he would be the one with whom you built your forever.
But, for now, on this night, he continued his own building, that of his hockey legacy — a fairy-tale story that started in Cole Harbour, Nova Scotia, and continued more than a thousand miles away in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, with a thousand chapters so far and much still to be written.
_____
“A little birdie told me you might be here this evening,” a distinct French-Canadian accented voice said softly as his fingers curled around your shoulders.
You snickered, finishing your sip of merlot, and turned to face Mario’s towering figure. You leaned into his chest and were immediately wrapped into a warm hug.
“Was that little birdie named Shanny by any chance?” you asked with a grin. Mario simply shrugged coyly, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
“In all seriousness, sweetheart, I was so glad when I heard you were coming,” Mario said, his voice even and serious. “He wants to share it all with you, especially the big stuff, like this. I can’t imagine how happy he was when he saw you.”
You smiled, cognizant of the common sentiments coming from the two most influential men in Sidney’s life. You knew how much you meant to your boyfriend, but hearing that Sid let both Troy and Mario know the same brought a warmth deep within your chest. 
“It was pretty incredible. I’m just so pleased that it worked out,” you said fondly. “I want to share it all with him, too.”
Mario nodded, squeezing your bicep softly.
“Come on,” he encouraged with a smirk, nodding toward the bar at the back of the suite. “Let’s get another drink and celebrate.”
_____
“What a night,” Sidney murmured warmly into the dim master suite, lighted only by a few candles on the end tables that you’d lit upon returning home, signaling that it was time for your and Sid’s own private celebration in the comfort of his home.
You hummed in acknowledgment, circling your fingertips on his bare chest.
“I’m so glad you were there,” he added, placing a kiss in your hair.
You smiled up at him and reached to peck his lips.
“Me too,” you said. “This day couldn’t have been more perfect.”
An ornery smile tugged at the corner’s of Sidney’s plump lips.
“You don’t think so?” he began, making you furrow your brow in question. Seeing your confusion, he added, “I can think of one thing that would make this day even better.”
Leaving you lying in his bed watching him, propped up on your elbows, Sidney pulled on his sweats at the foot of the bed and crossed the room to his chest of drawers, reaching into the top one, his fingers moving all the way toward the back of it.
And there, even in the darkness, you knew exactly what he’d retrieved.
You sat straight up, pulling the red velvet-shaded sheets around your bare form. Tears already formed in your eyes, and you covered your mouth in utter amazement as Sidney walked toward you with a look of determination and knelt at the side of the bed.
“Sidney,” you whispered, splaying your hand across your chest.
“I was gonna wait until you were here next weekend to do this, but I honestly can’t wait anymore,” Sid began, his serious expression giving way to a joyful one. “This day has been all about me, and don’t get me wrong, I’m so grateful to be where I am in my career,” he continued. “But the whole day, knowing you weren’t going to be there, I just felt... empty inside. It felt like a waste. I was just plastering on a smile and saying all the right things, but in my heart, it just felt meaningless if you couldn’t be a part of it. That’s how every day feels when I can’t be beside you.”
You were sobbing unabashedly now, your hand resting on Sidney’s neck as you listened to him.
“And I know you love your work, and I would never dream of asking you to give that up. But someday, in the not-so-distant future, my days of playing hockey are going to come to an end. And the second that happens, I can promise you this — I’m going to come to wherever you are, just to be near you,” he spoke, his voice quivering just slightly as his emotions became evident. “Because someday, whether it’s ten years from now or five years or a month or tomorrow, I wanna marry you, baby. I want to spend the rest of my life with you by my side. So...”
Sidney cleared his throat and lifted the box he held so that you could see it, flipping open the top to reveal the loveliest marquis-cut halo diamond ring you had ever seen. Your breath caught in your throat, and before Sidney could ask the question, you let out a firm “yes!”
Sidney threw his head back in laughter — your favorite song.
“How do you know what I was gonna ask?” he teased, leaning closer to you with one brow quirked.
“Sorry,” you muttered halfheartedly. “Okay, okay. Ask me.”
Sidney beamed. “Sweetheart, will you marry me?”
“Yes,” you confirmed the second he finished the sentence, grabbing his face with both hands and kissing him urgently. Both of you smiled into the kiss and continued your embrace for several moments, parting only to stare at each other and giggle incredulously.
“I love you,” you whispered. “And trust me, it won’t be ten years or five years from now. I’ll be ready very, very soon. I promise,” you assured.
Sidney’s smile grew even wider, and you knew he was somewhat taken aback by your assertion.
“Really?” he asked, smoothing his hand over your hair. You nodded.
“Give me a season or two,” you replied. “I know I can always go back to it. But this... us... nothing is more important to me, Sid. I want to spend all of my days with you, too.”
With that, Sidney grasped your jaw and kissed you with a fervor that told of not only his passion for you but the relief he felt in hearing your statement.
“I love you,” he panted when he finally pulled his lips from yours. “Can I put the ring on you now?”
With a laugh, you joked, “Well, I suppose so.”
Sidney shook his head in amusement and pulled the ring from the box, sliding it onto your left hand. You wiggled your fingers and admired the perfect fit of the ring, not to mention its exceptional beauty.
“Wow,” you whispered, looking back to Sidney. You held the back of your hand up to him and teased, “A bunch of 1,000 game gifts and a fiancée all in one night. Not bad for you, eh?”
Sidney reached for your hand and left a long kiss on your knuckles.
“Not bad at all,” he answered earnestly.
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miracleonice87 · 3 years
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3 or 4 w matty tkachuk please (whichever one isnt taken yet!)
“I’d do anything for you.” with Matthew Tkachuk
a/n: just a fluffy little cliche blurb about being taken care of when you’re sick (with just a cold). this was also requested by @vicbug74!
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You didn’t get sick often, but when you got sick, you got sick. And today, you were sick.
From the moment you woke, your head was pounding, and the pressure in your sinuses was enough to make you dizzy. You were coughing and sneezing seemingly constantly, and you’d been alternating all day between burrowing under the covers and then waking up from a restless nap sweaty and overheated, throwing your blankets off of your body.
The worst part was, you had had a whole day planned with Matthew — he had the day off, so you had planned to watch movies at his house all afternoon and then go out to a nice dinner. You felt terrible cancelling on him, but you knew it was better to postpone than to risk getting him sick mid-season. Besides that, it quickly became clear that you wouldn’t be getting out of bed anytime soon. As soon as you fired off a quick text apologizing and letting him know that you wouldn’t be coming over because you were ill, you had given in to the weight of your heavy eyelids and drifted back to sleep.
What felt like two minutes later, you woke to a cool hand on your face — a welcome sensation against your flushed skin.
But your eyebrows knit together in confusion then as you wondered just who the hand belonged to. You blinked away the drowsiness as best you could and focused on the blue-eyed boy knelt at your bedside, a neat mop of auburn curls atop his head, a worried look on his face.
“Matty?” you questioned, groggy. He smiled.
“Hi, baby girl,” he replied, leaning closer to press a kiss to your temple.
“What are you doing here?” you asked, rubbing at your tired eyes. As you sat up straighter, propped against your collection of pillows, he took a seat beside you on the bed.
“I was worried about you,” he explained. “So I used the spare key you gave me. I hadn’t heard back from you, so I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
Even in your state, your lips twitched upward into a smirk.
“That’s sweet, Matty,” you said, your voice raw from coughing. “I’m okay,” you lied, a sneeze sneaking up on you and betraying you. Matthew eyed you skeptically.
“Yeah, okay,” he chuckled sarcastically, shaking his head. “Have you eaten anything?” he inquired, pushing back some hair from your face before resting the backs of his fingers against your forehead. You closed your eyes, relaxing into his soothing touch.
You thought about lying, but decided the better of it. Matthew would call your bluff anyway. You shook your head bashfully and forced your eyes open.
Matthew’s expression had morphed from slightly scolding to soft, and he offered a gentle smile.
“‘S’okay. That’s why I’m here,” he said proudly. He stood and crossed the room to your dresser, and you turned onto your side to follow him with your eyes. It was only then that you noticed two giant paper bags, a bouquet of flowers, and a teddy bear sitting on the piece of furniture.
“Matty... what did you do?” you squealed — or, at least you attempted to squeal, but the sound got stuck in your throat and caused you to cough instead.
He turned at the waist to smirk at you.
“You’ll see,” Matthew promised with a wink. You shook your head in disbelief as he began pulling items from his bag of tricks — cough drops, cold medicine, essential oils, ice packs, magazines, a plush new oversized blanket, and more sick day essentials.
But Matthew hadn’t stopped there — he reached into the next bag to retrieve a large container of vegetable soup from your favorite downtown cafe near his place, along with fresh bread and a big cup of iced green tea.
Tears filled your eyes as you watched him open a packet of plasticware, bringing you a spoon, a napkin, and some soup. You couldn’t remember the last time someone had extended such a kind gesture your way.
“You did all of this... for me?” you asked incredulously, your voice quivering as he took his place beside you once again, setting the takeout container on your bedside table so that he could cup your face in his hands and press a lingering kiss to your forehead. When he pulled back to look you in the eye, he said, “I’d do anything for you.”
You beamed, overwhelmed by his thoughtfulness and tender care. You hugged his neck before releasing him quickly.
“I shouldn’t have hugged you! I’m gonna get you sick,” you lamented, guilt thick in your words.
He scoffed. “Baby, I have an immune system of steel,” he bragged jokingly, brimming with pride at the way his statement made you giggle. “Now scoot over, and I’ll feed you your soup.”
You did as you were instructed, and Matthew climbed into bed next to you before reaching for the container. He fed you a couple of bites before you glanced up at him with concern.
“I really can’t get you sick, Matty,” you asserted again. “Or else your team’s gonna kill me.”
Matthew shook his head. “Even if I do get sick, they’ll never know it was because of you,” he assured with a carefree shrug. “Besides, you’re not getting rid of me that easily. I’m stayin’ ‘til I know you’re alright. Now, c’mon, eat up,” he ordered, pushing the spoon closer to your lips. You accepted it with a grateful smile, though after a few more spoonfuls, you couldn’t stomach any more. Matthew put the lid back on the container, and after handing you your tea and insisting you drink a couple of sips, he pulled the tag from the new blanket and carefully spread it over you.
“Thanks, Matty,” you said softly, pulling back the far corner of the fabric. “Cuddle with me?”
He nodded, kneeling on the mattress. “Obviously,” he remarked. “Scoot over.”
You obeyed his request once more and soon, you were asleep on his chest, Matthew more than content to have you in his arms, whether sick or not.
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miracleonice87 · 3 years
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Number 37 on touches prompt list + Tyson Barrie? 😊
I can always count on you for a Tyson request, @laurenairay 🥰
37. putting their head on the other’s chest
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Tyson drew a deep sigh. From where you stood leaning on the railing of your hotel balcony, you looked over at him, watching as his gaze traveled along the Denver skyline laid out before you.
The two of you had been in town for nearly a week now, the main purpose for the trip being seeing Nate marry his longtime love, with Tyson at his side. You’d taken advantage of the special occasion by extending your stay in order to visit with friends and former teammates of Tyson’s, their wives, and their families, people you hadn’t seen in the years since leaving Denver.
Now, the trip was coming to a close, with a flight back to Edmonton scheduled for the next morning. You could see a unique sadness in your boyfriend’s eyes — and you felt it in your own heart, too.
“You okay, baby?” you asked gently, taking a few steps closer to him, setting your beer aside.
Tyson nodded slowly. “I’m fine,” he said, offering a small smile, which you knew was intended to reassure you. He lifted his arm invitingly and you curled yourself beneath it. “I just miss it here,” he said, his eyes looking back toward the city.
You rested your hand against his abdomen, giving his waist a squeeze with the other. You, too, gazed out at the city you had once called home — the city where you went to college, where you met Tyson, where you fell in love with him. Denver would always take up a special part of your soul saved only for those sweet memories.
You leaned closer, resting your head against Tyson’s chest, and felt him drop a kiss in your hair.
“I miss it, too,” you said, rubbing his back. “In some ways, it’ll always be home.”
Tyson hummed in agreement, wrapping his arms around you fully.
“I’ll always be thankful for my time here,” Tyson said. “It brought me you,” he added, kissing your temple.
You smiled up at him, cupping his neck.
“Thank god for Denver,” you commented.
Tyson kissed your forehead tenderly. “Thank god.”
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