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"born in the wrong era" but there's no particular time period i'd rather be living in, I'm just pissed af at having to live through the global resurgence of fascism
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The Gladers: An Interview (Pt. 6)
we're BACK baby!!!
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Hi, I'm here after reading the scorched dissonance and the sequel. All your work is amazing. I love it so much, and I think your work will stick in my mind all the time. I read the sequel on the plane, and the person beside me saw me weird because I'm literally crying while reading. I'll be very happy if you want to make another fic like that. And honestly, you have to consider writing a novel. ♥️♥️♥️
This is beyond sweet, thank youuuuuuu!! I’m glad you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! That means the world to me :)
I do have a WIP that may turn into a multiple part series, similar to Scorched Dissonance’s length. Unfortunately, it’s not a Maze Runner, though I have a few short pieces for that fandom in my drafts that I hope will see the light of day soon <3
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CAILEE SPAENY Behind the scenes on the set of Alien: Romulus via pedroluque on Instagram Stories
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To Guild A Lily
Synopsis: You and Hazel have been together for six months now and things have been going really great. That is, until you stupidly invite her to meet your family over spring break -your family, who does not know your gay.
Warnings: Homophobia, very little use of y/n, things get a twinge spicy but its not smutty, kinda cheesy but it's cute.
Word Count: 6k
A/N: Hey 😏 It's been a while, and i'm sorry. But I'm back AND with a new story. This one will be a short mini series -probably three chapters tbh. Originally, I didn't think I was going to post it, because it lwk feels too personal. But what the heck, I like it, so here it is!! Christmas break is here, so i'll defiantly get some writing in for anyone who cares, lol. Anyway, I hope you enjoy! (And also apologies in advanced)
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The decision to attend a university outside of your home town was the best decision you’ve ever made. It’s been everything you hoped it to be. You made friends, you have your freedom, you have your independence, and, the best part of all, you have a different social demographic. Which may be a weird detail to others, but to you, it’s a blessing. No longer do you have to live behind the social constraints provided by the community you grew up in.
Though, that isn’t to say college is fantastic. The workload is insane, your apartment is depressing as hell, living expenses are through the roof, and making a healthy consistent meal plan for yourself feels near impossible. College can be awful at times, but it fulfills your small box of expectations.
Truly, you’re quite happy with where you are in life. Everything has a certain glow to it, a certain beauty. With this new-found freedom and privacy, you joined new social cliques, attended parties, joined clubs, and took all the classes that attune your interest. Which is how you met Hazel.
She sat next to you in a gender studies class in the second semester of your freshman year, which you later found out she only took the class with her friend PJ to meet the ladies of the campus. Which, to her credit and your pleasure, she accomplished.
The two of you hit it off almost instantly; from quipped, sly whispered jokes in the lecture halls, to not-so productive study dates, the two of you eventually fell into place with each other. She introduced you to her friends, both of whom you found very intimidating at first, since they make a very chaotic duo. Even so, they grew on you, and it wasn’t long til you became a part of their group. It also wasn’t long til your feelings for Hazel began to sprout.
It happened at the library -of all places. She made the first move and the two of you have been together for almost six months now. Things have been great.
It takes a lot for you to open up to people, but when it came to Hazel, things felt easier. Suddenly, you felt more bold, more electric with your personality. Those around you could sense the shift, even your family, who lived hours away.
In your eyes, this is a good thing. The relationship you have with your family is complicated. You love each of them to death. Your mother, your father, your sister, all of them you’d take a bullet for. Unconditional love, as many may call it. But they were… different when it came to values. More on the old-fashioned side than you typically prefer. But the thing with college is, you get to break away from home, and that’s exactly what you did -well somewhat. Your mom still calls every day to check up, mostly asking if you've met anyone yet, and by anyone, she means a boy.
It’s isolating at times, knowing your family doesn’t know this integral part of who you are. But, in your eyes, it was for the better.
Though, after six months of being with Hazel, a certain consensus within yourself was breached. It felt unfair to your family, since they were always asking if you’ve made any friends or found a boyfriend yet. And secondly, it’s unfair to Hazel. You met her mom three months after dating, it wasn’t planned, but it happened, and now you feel an insatiable obligation to introduce her to your family.
But the kicker is, Hazel doesn’t know that your family is oblivious to her existence. They’re even oblivious to the fact that you like girls. So, you’ve avoided bringing it up.
You don’t want to ruin a good thing. Things are so easy, why mess it up?
“So, when are you leaving?” Hazel asks from the foot of your bed, watching as you shove ungodly amounts of clothes into your small suitcase on the floor.
You shrug, placing another chunky sweater that surely will not fit into the luggage. The thing isn’t going to close, but you’ll be damned if you weren’t going to try. “I think maybe early tomorrow morning? What about you?”
“Oh, I’m not going home,” she casually reveals. “I think I’ll just stay here.”
You stop your pushing and look up at her questioningly. “What? Why not?”
“My mom will be out of town the whole week, so there’s basically no point in me going back home.”
“She’s going out of town the week of your spring break?”
Hazel nods with a slightly solemn expression, to which you purse your lips, knowing her complicated relationship with her mother.
“What about PJ and Josie, they’ll be going home too, right? Why don’t you go with them?”
She sighs, leaning into the mattress. “Josie is going on vacation with Isabel and her family, and PJ said she’s going on some ‘pussy’ retreat -whatever that means.”
You frown at this. The college campus was nice, but there wasn’t much to do. Without any friends around, it gets boring and depressing fast. You would know. You spent the first semester of your freshman year losing your goddamn mind, rotting in your dorm room binging the entirety of ‘Orange is the New Black’.
“Well, you can come home with me,” You offer, wanting to bite your tongue the second the suggestion leaves your lips.
“Really?” Hazel perks up excitingly.
“Yeah, why not? It’s only a five-hour drive, it will be like a fun little road trip or something.” For you, it wouldn’t be a fun little road trip. It would be a nightmare of spiraling thoughts and contemplative re-routes to the nearest cliff. But you can’t stand the thought of leaving Hazel, knowing she would be left alone on campus for a whole two weeks.
“You sure your family won’t mind?”
As you stop packing and grab your phone off the nightstand, a nest of anxiety burrows behind your ribcage. You’re a good liar, or, to put it more lightly, you’re good at masking your true emotions. “I’m sure they won’t. I can text them and ask if that will make you feel more comfortable with it.”
“Can you?” She questions with a look of sincerity. “I don’t want to just show up unannounced.”
“Yeah, of course,” You plant yourself next to her on the bed, subtly hiding the phone screen. Now, with the phone in your hands and your mother's contact photo glowing on the screen, you begin to wonder what you’re even supposed to say.
‘Hey mom, I know I haven’t told you this yet, but I’m gay, and I have a girlfriend, and she’s coming over. Hope that’s cool. Cool? Cool. Alright bye bye now.’
Immediately, you regret offering to text her. Yet, even with your discretion, you begin to type.
YOU: ‘Hey, just want to let you know I’ll be heading home tomorrow. Probably around early morning.’
YOU: ‘But Is it okay if I bring a friend down with me?”
You curse yourself as soon as the word floats into the chat. Friend.
Shutting off your phone, and tossing it out of your hands, you nod with a not-so reassuring smile. “There.”
Thankfully, Hazel misses the uncertainty in your expressions and returns an optimistic smile. “This is exciting, I finally get to meet these parents I've heard so much about.”
You shake your head bemusedly. “Look, there’s a reason I don’t talk about them. I mean, they aren’t exactly the most agreeable people.”
“I’m sure I can handle it.”
“I know you can,” you brush off, as you allow yourself to fall onto the satin sheets. “I’m just not sure I can.”
“You can. Everything will turn out fine.” She joins you, lying next to your side and taking your hand hers. “Besides, I’m great with parents.”
You smile softly, nuzzling your head into her shoulder. Internally, your heart sinks. How could you not tell your parents about her? Since the second semester of freshman year, she’s been this symbol of comfort in your life. Yet in that same sense, she’s also your girlfriend. So, how could you tell your parents about her?
You exhale a long, pent-up breath -unaware that, through this spiral, you’ve briefly forgotten to breathe. “I guess I can’t keep you from them forever.”
Hazel lifts her head and leans over you with a smug look. “Forever, you say?”
You laugh upon realizing the implications of your words, and turn away to avoid her demanding stare. “Shut up.”
“Forever is a long time to be together. Even longer time to go without meeting one’s parents.”
You shrug, “I think we could get away with it if we tried.”
She perks up, as if having an epiphany of her own. “Oh, maybe we’ll do one of those lavender marriages,” She encourages. “You know, we’ll pretend you're straight, and I’m just some estranged sister-in-law that you inevitably fall in love with -because how could you not? And then, you’ll get divorced, and we’ll run away together, and that way, I’ll never have to officially meet your parents, and they’ll just know me in passing. ”
You pause a moment, mouth set slightly agape at her nonsensical ridicule. “Are you done?”
“I mean, I could keep going, but that’s just a quick summary.”
Pursing your lips, you bite back a broad smile, and bring a hand to her cheek to pull her closer. Leaving a quick peck on her lips, before pressing your forehead to hers, “You’re the worst.”
A giggle reverberates off her chest, and you could swear that sound can kill. “We’ll be fine, I promise. Worst-case scenario, they end up hating me, we elope, move to Barbados, and live happily ever after.”
“Not a bad worst-case scenario.”
“Mhm.” she purrs, placing a hand on your waist and pressing her lips to yours, as you bring a hold to her cheek. The minimal space between your bodies lingers before it begins to diminish; her figure hovering over yours, effectively stabling herself by pressing a leg between your thighs.
You melt under the touch, allowing the heat to rise to your cheeks and your stomach to do an insurmountable amount of flips. A smile curves against her lips, one that you cannot help but to reciprocate amidst her near suffocating rapture.
Slicing through the once sensual atmosphere, your phone dings. Breaking away from her embrace, you turn towards your phone on the other side of the bed. “Shit, it’s probably my mom.”
Hazel hums. Though understanding, you can sense a slight disappointment in the way she relaxes next to you onto the bed.
Swiping open your phone, the message reads:
MOM <3: That’s perfectly fine, hun. Can’t wait to me this friend of yours 😉
MOM <3: Text me when you leave, love you!
You bite the inside of your cheek, knowing, even through text, she’s aware this friend isn’t like every other. She read you like a book, immediately picking up on the lack of assurance behind your words. She knows if it was just any other friend, you wouldn’t have asked.
Your mother knows you well, but not well enough to know it isn't a boy you’re bringing home.
YOU: I will, love you too <3
Shutting off your phone once again, you turn back to Hazel and put on a more heartening expression. “We’re good to go.”
“Really?” she questions. “You didn’t look too sure for a second?”
“Yeah, it’s just- some other stuff she was saying. It’s all good.”
Hazel quirks her brow, not buying your reasoning.
“Seriously,” You add, wanting to end this questioning as soon as possible. “It’s fine,” You lean in and plant a quipped kiss on her cheek before catapulting yourself off the bed. “I should get packing, though.”
A hand grips your wrist before you can get any further. “No, stay,” she whines. “We were just starting to have fun.”
You gently take your other hand and guide yourself free of her grasp. “As much as I’d love to continue having more fun, you should probably start packing, too.”
Hazel groans, falling onto her back with an exaggeration you found to be quite endearing.
You feel bad for deceiving her. She should know about the issue surrounding your parents, at least before you arrive at their house mid-afternoon tomorrow. You just didn’t know how to tell her, not that she wouldn’t understand, cause she would. The problem is how it would make her feel.
Yet, in an undeniably selfish way, you hope that by finally introducing Hazel to your family, this unrelenting guilt entangled in the back of your mind will finally resolve. Maybe, just maybe, telling your parents about your girlfriend would make this thing you have with Hazel feel all the more better. Maybe, just maybe, telling them would allow this already perfect thing to blossom into something better. Maybe, you’ll finally sleep well at night and dream again once more.
…
Come late morning, around 11 a.m., you and Hazel have already packed your bags and stuffed them in the trunk of your car. Having taken this route home on numerous occasions already, you didn’t bother typing your address into the GPS before setting off.
Before leaving town and into the interminable country roads, you stopped by a small family owned convenience store for breakfast. You grabbed a pre-packaged blueberry muffin and a small coffee, while Hazel wandered aimlessly around the store with an indecisive contemplation -which is per usual. Ultimately, she meets you at the counter with an energy drink and a ‘freshly made’ breakfast sandwich -also her usual.
You grin teasingly upon seeing her choice. “You spent all that time deciding, just to get what you always do?”
She shrugs defensively, “I was wondering if I should try something new.”
You huff shaking your head, watching as she hands the cashier her card.
Hopping back into the car, quiet conversation fills the air. Hazel grabs the aux cord and puts on the road-trip playlist she made just the night before. It’s full of songs and bands the two of you share a liking to, most of which you can scream every word to.
The drive home is beautiful. It’s full of curvy and long countryside roads, and old historical district villages. Although, your favorite part is around the halfway mark of the drive, where the bundles of farmland are located. Here you pass numerous herds of cattle and their calves, all tucked safely behind mesh wire fences.
Making this drive with Hazel is something you never thought would be so exciting. You felt like a tour guide of sorts, telling her miniscule stories about random experiences you’ve had in the area. Like how you stopped at one particular gas station on the way home once, and swore to never go back again after you had a near scrap fight with a group of opossums. Or how you once got a flat tire on the side of the road, and the only person who stopped to help you was someone fully dressed in drag. .
“Sometimes I forget you’re from the middle of nowhere.” Hazel comments.
“It’s not really in the middle of nowhere.”
“Really?” She retorts, giving you an unimpressed look, “Cause I haven’t seen a proper grocery store for miles.”
“What? We passed like fifty Dollar Generals, which around here is like the equivalent of a Whole Foods.”
She laughs lightly. “That’s exactly my point.”
“Don’t worry,” you chaff. “When we get closer to home, things will start looking a little more developed.”
She smiles with a shake of her head, as she looks back out the window. “You know, you never talk much about where you're from, better yet your family.”
You tense, gripping the steering wheel slightly, unsure of what to say.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Hazel confirms, looking back your way. “How come?”
Her question sounds so innocent, as if she doesn’t know the true extent of where a conversation like this could lead. The two of you have been living in this comfortable bubble for the entirety of its existence. It’s safe here, it’s content. It’s a place where your family can’t come in and hurt you, or even worse, hurt her.
You’re used to their overtly derogatory teasing, but Hazel isn’t. What if your family steers her away from you, what if she projects their behavior onto you, or starts to perceive you as one of them -they are family after all.
You finally broke free, went off on your own, and got to choose the people you surround yourself with. Things finally felt like they were in your control. You could keep your family life separate from the one you live away at college. You could keep this perfect balance of family and friends. You could finally separate yourself from your upbringing. But the thought that your family could drive something so perfect out of your life, stressed you out beyond comprehension.
“Hey,” Hazel interjects, bringing you out of your spiraling thoughts. “You alright?”
“Yeah-uh, sorry.” You reply, anxiously tapping your fingers on the steering wheel.
“It’s okay” She reassures with kind eyes. “You just kind of spaced out there when I asked about your family. Is everything okay?”
You exhale a long breath. Even feeling the motions of it all and knowing this trip could make or break everything with Hazel, you’re aware that she deserves to know.
“They don’t know, Haze.” you finally blurt.
She hesitates a moment. Her expression is evidently confused, as she turns down the music. “Who doesn’t know what?”
“My parents. They don’t know. They don’t know I’m…” For some reason, it’s hard to say. You’ve always been comfortable in your sexuality, so why is it so hard to say it now?
“Gay?” She finishes for you.”They don’t know you like girls?”
You bite your lip, shaking your head. “I’m so sorry, I should’ve told them sooner -long before I even thought of bringing you to them. Which also should’ve been way sooner. I just didn’t know what to say or how to tell them or-”
“So they’re homophobic?” She interrupts.
You stutter on your words, struggling to form a proper response, before letting out a defeated breath. “Kind of?”
“Kind of?”
“Well, they’re not like homophobic in a way where they think gay people shouldn’t have the right to marry or exist. To them it’s more like, ‘i dont care if you’re gay just don’t do that stuff around me’ kind of way. So they are homophobic, but it’s like…it’s just…” You hesitate, glancing at Hazel’s expression carefully.
For a moment, she stares at you in bafflement. What she could be thinking appears unreadable -that is, until a small laugh escapes her.
She’s laughing?
“Hazel,” you sigh. ”It’s not funny. I’m serious.”
“I know, I know. I’m sorry for laughing,” She apologizes with a waving of her hand. “It’s just… I’ve never heard someone describe it that way.”
“Hazel,” You complain, desperately trying to keep your focus on her and the road.
She purses her lips as she tries to bite back an amused smile. After a deep exhale, she finally regains her composure and meets your weary expression. “Look, it’s fine they don’t know. I get it, it’s hard coming out, especially to people like that. I don’t expect you to tell them right as we walk through the door. Although, I’d love to see such a dramatic proclamation of your love for me, I understand not telling them. So, you don’t have to… for now.”
She pauses for a moment, placing a comforting hand on your forearm. “But I do wish you would’ve told me about them before bringing me all the way out here. I need to like, be more prepared for a situation like this.”
“I know, and I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you before,” you apologize, wishing you would’ve swallowed your transgressions and told her sooner. “You don’t have to do this anymore. If you’re too uncomfortable-”
“No, I want to.” she interjects. “Things will just be a little more awkward, is all. Nothing I can’t handle.”
“No Hazel, you don’t-... this was a bad idea. I should’ve told you-”
“Hey, it’s fine. I’m okay with it, really.”
You flatten your lips, dissatisfied with how you’ve made things. Her circumstances are unfair, yet she’s still willing to meet them.
“Are you sure? I can text my mom, cancel the whole thing, and I can just stay with you on campus for spring break. I’ll make it up to you-”
Hazel interrupts with a stern call of your name. “Seriously, it’s fine”
You switch your worried gaze from the dark roadway to Hazel’s pitying stare. You didn’t think it would be possible, but you begin to think you might want to turn around more than Hazel. You’ve finally built up enough courage to offer for them to meet, and a part of you wonders if it’s for the best, if the timing is even right.
“It’s just…my relationship with my family is complicated. They’re not… easy people to get along with. I don’t want them to make you feel uncomfortable. I don’t want them to say some dumb shit and hurt you. I don’t want them to ruin things between us. And I’m scared that after this, things between us will change. That you’ll see me differently, like I’m one of them, and want to leave. And, honestly, Hazel, these past few months with you have been really really amazing and I don’t want to lose that …I don’t want to lose you.”
Hazel is silent for a long moment, seemingly mulling something over in her head. And with each passing moment, you get more nervous that she had changed her mind and did, in fact, want to turn around and leave you with your family troubles.
“Pull over,” She suddenly demands.
“What?”
“Pull over, I want to give you a hug.” She implores with a strange sophistication in her words. “And because you’re crying and probably shouldn’t be driving.”
You hadn’t even realized it before, but tears were streaming down your cheeks, your voice was hoarse, and your vision was far too blurry to be driving in the dark.
You wipe your tears abashedly with a weak laugh, and pull over onto the side of the empty highway. Shifting the vehicle into park, Hazel’s arms immediately wrap around your shoulders -the unwarranted comfort making you fall apart at the seams. All in one fell swoop, everything comes crashing down.
You tuck your head between her shoulder and neck, desperately attempting to suppress the lump in your throat. Her affection is warm and safe. To you, her embrace isn’t a new feeling, yet, it’s still somehow refreshing. Like a much-needed breath of fresh air, or a sip of ice water on a hot day.
“You’re not going to lose me because of them. Nothing they say or do will ever change how I feel about you, alright?” she whispers over your shoulder.
You nod, unsure if you can trust your own voice.
She let's go, placing a small peck on your cheek. Her palms cradle your face as she stares into your eyes. “Everything is going to work out just fine. And if it doesn’t, we’ll leave. Simple as that.”
You nod once more, hating how speechless you feel. Here she was, sacrificing her spring break to meet your homophobic parents, yet she’s the one comforting you.
“Alright. Now, switch seats with me. I’m driving now.”
Not even bothering to argue, you unbuckle your seatbelt and open the driver door.
You type in your address into the GPS, and allow Hazel to take the wheel.
…
Pulling into the rocky driveway, your heart’s in your ears and there’s a knot in your stomach. If the prolonged carsickness from the car ride didn’t make you throw up, walking through that front door surely will.
Hazel puts the car in park and turns the ignition off. “You okay?”
You stare at the dash, eyes glued straight ahead and you nod slowly.
A hand grabs yours, squeezing it three times over, a gesture you have yet to understand but never fails to ease your racing heart. Glancing at this impossibly calm and collected girl next to you, you wonder how you ever got so lucky to be a part of her world. It seems nearly inconceivable. She’s too good to be true, too good for you.
Flashing a weak smile, you open the passenger door and step out into the cold air.
The sun has set into darkness, as the crickets chirp in a harmonious choir. One thing you did miss about home were the quiet nights. Compared to the college town, where police sirens were an atmospheric staple and the oxygen is thick with pollution, your hometown was silent. Everything could be heard throughout the still nights, including your favorite calls of the mourning dove.
You ultimately decide to leave your bags in the car, figuring you’ll grab them after dinner, which is supposedly ready according to the text your mom sent ten minutes prior to your arrival. So, not wanting them to wait another moment to eat, the two of you walk to the front door.
Typically, when you visit home, you barge through the door, not bothering to announce yourself. It’s your home after all. But this time, being so filled with nerves, you knock.
“Come in,” your mother's voice beckons from inside, followed by the excited barking of the family dog.
The moment you open the door, two paws meet your abdomen. “Hey, buddy,” You shakily greet, ruffling the dog's head, as his tail wags excitedly.
“Hazel, this is Ru,” You introduce sliding off your shoes.
Ru is the name everyone decided on, and the one you came up with. Though you never had the heart to tell your family you named him after Rupaul. But it’s funnier if they don’t know.
“Hi Ru,” Hazel coos, squatting to the pups level, allowing him to sniff her hand, to which he immediately accepts. Originally, your family wanted a guard dog. Instead they got Ru, who wouldn't hurt a fly.
“Aren’t you just the sweetest?” Hazel laughs, flopping his ears. Already you could tell the dog loved her. Seeing her with Ru, both of them lighting up at the interaction, made things feel slightly better, like everything might turn out alright.
“Hey, hun!” Your mom greets, rounding the entrance corner, her arms open wide.
“Hi,” You put on your best smile while wrapping your arms around her, using every last piece of willpower to suppress the nerves.
“Missed you,” she reminds, pulling away before her gaze quickly drifts to the girl behind you.
“Mom, this is Hazel.”
Something falters behind your mother's stare, and in an instant you notice her subtle surprise. Indeed, not a boy.
“Hi, nice to meet you,” Hazel stands, offering her hand.
“Nice to meet you,” She shakes her hand briefly with a smile, then turns back to you. “Where are your bags?”
“Oh, we left them in the car. Didn’t want to hold up dinner any longer, you know?”
“You didn’t have to do that,” she brushes off, as she saunters back to the kitchen, “But after dinner, I’ll send your father out there to help you unload all your stuff.”
“Speaking of which, where is he?” You ask, gesturing for Hazel to follow you further into the home.
Your mother scoffs, grabbing the plates from the pantry. “Bathroom, you know how he is.”
“Gross, I’m eating.” A voice calls from the dining table.
You peek your head around the corner to find your sister, who not surprisingly didn’t wait for your arrival to eat. “Good to see you too.” You tease.
She nods, her mouth full of food.
Looking at the stove, you find fresh cooked salmon, cubed baked sweet potatoes, and charred asparagus. If there is a second thing you missed about home, it’s the home-cooked meals.
“Dinner looks good, mom.” You smile, grabbing a plate for both you and Hazel.
“Thank you,” She chirps, filling her plate and looking at Hazel who has been shadowing your side. “Please, help yourselves to whatever.”
“Thank you so much,” Hazel lightly mutters, joining your side to fill her plate. “And thank you for having me. I know it’s last minute.”
“No worries. It’s always nice to have a new guest.”
Finally taking a seat at the table, Hazel sits by your side. You could tell she was being overly conscious of how close she sat next to you. Despite knowing she only wanted to avoid unwanted attention, you couldn’t help but feel disappointed. Her comforting presence is an inescapable desire, one that you cannot have -not here.
“You know, when you said a friend, they thought you were finally bringing home a boy.” your sister ridicules from the seat across from you.
A distaste for your sister settles on your tongue. Of course that was the first thing she’s said since you arrived. It didn’t matter that it was a diss towards you. What mattered was how Hazel glanced in your direction -a mix of dejection and pity- it killed you.
“Well…” you begin, unsure of how to respond to such a remark. “It's best not to assume things, is it?”
Her eyes flare with amusement, indicating she wasn’t expecting a defensive remark. It wasn’t like you to respond in such a way, but these are different circumstances.
Without introduction, your father walks in with his plate in hand. On his way to his seat, he plants a small pat on your shoulder. “Good to see you home for once.”
You smile flatly. Every time you visited home, the subject of your frequent absence was always brought up. Even with the easy drive home, Christmas and Spring break were the only times of year that you ever visited home.
“Um,” You clear your throat, “Dad, this is Hazel.”
Directing his attention to the girl, he offers a curt nod. “So, what are you majoring in Hazel?”
Mentally, you roll your eyes, because of course that’s his first question.
“Uh, engineering, sir.”
His expression lightens, “Really? That’s a pretty good one, make a lot of money in that field.”
“Yeah, definitely. But it’s very competitive, so we’ll see how it goes.”
“I’m sure you’ll do great.” Your mom chimes in, as she takes a seat next to your sister.
Hazel smiles warmly, “Thank you.”
“Hazel actually got a perfect score last semester on her Calculus three final,” You bud in, trying desperately to keep a conversation floating.
“Wow, calculus, huh?” your dad replies, evidently impressed. “How’d you pull that off?”
“Well, I’m pretty accustomed to the formulas by now. I’ve been working with this sort of thing ever since I joined the fight club in high school and made…” She pauses, reconsidering her story. “I just helped everyone with their calculus homework, really.”
“Wait, did you say fight club?” Your sister adds. “Like the Brad Pitt movie?”
“Yeah -um, it wasn’t necessarily a fight club, more like a self-defense club. You know, for female solidarity and stuff.”
“Oh, well that’s very cool,” Your mom comments. “You know, we made y/n take a self-defense class before going to college.”
“Really?” Hazel questions, eyes lightening with surprise as she turns to you.
“Mhm,” your mother grins proudly. “best of her class.”
“What? Why did I never know this?”
You shrug with the first genuine smile you’ve mustered since the night began. “I don’t know, I never thought to mention it.”
She lightly laughs, making your nerves ease ever so slightly.
The night goes on as the conversation picks up. Hazel and your family exchange stories, jokes, and current happenings in their lives. Things are looking up, you think. Dinner has long been eaten, and no one has even bothered to move from the table. The earlier tension has finally dissolved into an air of comfortability, and your nerves have finally settled into an ease. As far as you could tell, your family has found a liking for Hazel.
You made a deal with yourself. Before spring break ends, you’d indefinitely tell them. The only question is, how would you find the proper timing? Things are going so well now, what if telling them ruins it?
Eventually, Hazel excuses herself, discreetly asking you for directions to the bathroom. You stood, grabbing both your plates and pointing her in the general direction down the hall.
Discarding the plates into the dishwasher, you return to your seat on the table, hazel now absent from your side. Without her comforting presence, the energy seems to shift in the room. There is a thick silence among your family. For a moment, you can’t tell if it’s all in your head. Although, almost in an instant, your earlier hopes for a peaceful spring break dispel into thin air.
“So, your friend Hazel.” Your sister begins.
You look up expectantly, awaiting some derogatory remark with deep trepidation.
“She’s got a personality, doesn’t she?”
You narrow your eyes, “What does that mean?”
“She’s just different is all.”
“Yeah but what does that mean?” You ask once more with impatience, eyes darting between each of your family members, looking for some unknown answer.
“She just means,” Your mother adds, “She’s a lot more different from your other friends. She’s…”
“Funny,” Your dad finishes, though it’s not a compliment. It’s a passive tone, one you know all too well.
“Funny?”
Your sister shrugs. “Yeah. I mean, the way she dresses, her hair, her humor. It’s all just different from what we’re used to.”
“So…You don’t like her?” you question with a twinge of hurt. Wherever this is going, you dread it. That same tangled ball of nerves in your stomach have finally resurfaced, and all it took was for Hazel to leave the room.
Your dad scoffs, “You know that's not what we’re saying, y/n. “
“Yeah we like her she’s just-”
“Different, yeah I got it. You don’t have to say it a million times.”
“You don’t have to get so defensive about it. It’s not that big of a deal,” Your sister remarks with a condescending laugh, “I mean, what? Are we not allowed to talk about her?”
“Not the moment she leaves the room, no. That’s fucking weird and condescending.”
“Hey!” Your dad warns. “Watch your mouth.”
You feel at a loss for words. Everything is escalating so fast. From what you observed, everyone was having a good time. Why do they have to go and ruin it? How could they be so insolent?
“I don’t see why you’re getting so defensive about her though?” Your sister adds. “It’s not like we’re saying anything bad.”
“No, but you’re making passive comments, and I can tell what you’re actually thinking, and it hurts my feelings that you think that way.”
“Oh god forbid we hurt your feelings,” Your father claims.
The hurt is soon replaced with anger, as your father’s remark seeps into your skin. After all these years of growing up with them by your side, you’ve never seen them so… ugly. You knew they weren’t the most agreeable people, but this was a whole new side. “Why would you-”
“We’re sorry, honey,“ Your mom interrupts. “We don’t mean to upset you. You’re right, it’s rude to talk about someone when they're out of the room.”
You give her a disbelieving look. “It doesn’t matter if she’s here or not! The stuff you're saying still sucks, and it’s weird, and all of you are being rude.”
“Oh my god, we aren’t even saying anything bad! We just said she’s different from your other friends.” Your sister complains.
You groan, “Yeah and you keep saying different and not actually elaborating on what you mean.”
“Y/n, honey, calm down.”
“No! I wanna know what does ‘different’ mean? What does that mean to you?”
A subtle silence envelopes the air, a heavy, understanding silence. You aren’t mad because you don’t understand what they’re saying; You're mad because you do. You want to hear them say it. You need to hear them say it.
“You know what we mean,” Your sister finally confides.
It takes everything in you to not burst at the seams. Can they not even say it? Was it that hard for them?
“Why can’t all of you just be… supportive, unconditionally.”
Your dad shakes his head, “Why does it matter what we think anyway?”
“Because, she’s my girlfriend!” You cry. The moment the words finally reveal themselves, a weight is lifted off your chest.
The room falls silent, their faces painted with complete bewilderment.
“We’ve been together for five months now. And I didn’t want to tell you guys because I knew you would react this way, and I knew you wouldn’t understand, or in the very least, even try to. But it turns out, I don’t even need to tell you she’s my girlfriend for all of you to absolutely lose your shit! I mean, you’re my family for Christ's sake! I just wish you’d be a little more supportive, or at least have a heart when I tell you i’m…I-” The rest of your words fail to fall from your mouth, as they bubble up behind the lump forming in your throat.
They give no response, not even one from your father to correct your language. They simply stare, and it’s an unbearable silence, one that fills you with an impending dread. One that holds the weight of all that is unspoken. One that says absolutely nothing, yet everything all at once.
Maybe it’s disgust or maybe it’s shock, yet the uncertainty of their expressions remains. All that can be certain is the very fact that you can’t be here anymore.
Though, all you can manage to do is study their contemplative stares. You study them with a pained glare til your eyes drift to the hall, where Hazel stands in the entrance. You don’t know how long she’s been there, but with her sympathetic yet ultimately, disappointed expression, you presume she's been there long enough. Now, only one thought floats through your mind: Hazel shouldn’t have to be here.
You abruptly stand from the table and pace out the door. “Thank you for dinner,” You mutter, as you grab your keys and wallet off the counter. You take Hazel’s hand without meeting her eyes, and usher her out the door.
Faintly, you hear your mother call out from the kitchen, though her voice only mumbles under the rumbling thoughts in your head.
It’s funny, you thought the worst response would be one of disapproval. But it turns out, no response is worse. With no words spoken, you don’t know what they’re thinking. Sure, the silence is enough to make you want to curl up inside yourself and disappear, but you can’t tell if it was shock or dismay.
Before you can open the driver door, Hazel cuts in front of you, giving a knowing look. She was going to drive, no questions asked. And you had no energy left to argue, so without another word, you hop in the passenger seat and tuck your knees to your chest, holding back the fountain of tears that threaten to spill.
As the car leaves the neighborhood, Hazels sits behind the wheel with the same face as before. You don’t know if the disappointment in her eyes is for you or your family. Or maybe it’s both, being of the same blood and all. You are them, and they are you; they are you, and you are them. It doesn’t matter either way, because they’re family. And when you needed their approval most, they chewed it up and spit it out.
They’re the people that are supposed to support you most, they’re supposed to love you unconditionally. But when it comes to a love that is unconventional to them, all that goes out the window. Maybe simply being their daughter wasn’t enough.
All these interminable, chastising thoughts suddenly come to a halt, when the hand that’s been anxiously gripping your shin, is pulled away. Your eyes drift upward to find Hazel’s hand intertwined in yours. Her eyes are glued to the road in such a steadfast way, you begin to wonder if she’s even paying attention to her driving. She seemed out of it, lost in her own world. Til, she flips on the blinker and makes the turn out of your hometown.
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I had a tattoo client ask if I ever used AI to design tattoos for me. Man I spent the better part of a decade doing shitty bit work as a graphic designer and now that I have the space to do whatever I want, I'm gonna let the computer generate random garbage for me? What next should I have a computer that eats my dinner and fucks my wife?
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REMINDER, not only are AI generative tools harmful to creatives, it’s also harmful to the environment! A single message sent to Chat GPT emits roughly 4.32 grams of CO2.
We know many of you have seen NaNoWriMo's recent statements on generative AI...
Well, we have too—and that's why we've made the decision to retract our sponsorship of NaNo.
Your support and belief in human creativity, transparency and collaboration mean everything to us, and we're committed to staying true to that. Thank you all! 💙
You can read our full statement here.
The Ellipsus team xo
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any trans person reading this I love you
any woman reading this I love you
any poc minority reading this I love you
any queer person reading this I love you
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with arcane season two coming up i need to make sure it’s known i respect women’s rights AND wrongs
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fruit appreciation post !
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Update
So sorry for anyone following my new series "Fortune for the Fools." I just recently moved out for college and let me tell you, it's tough. It's been very hard to find a moment of inspiration to write, let alone have the time to. But trust me, I'm trying to get some chapters out and edit all the stuff I have lined up.
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Tangerine - colourized version
credit: Loren_Sketch
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Fortune for the Fools
Hazel Callahan x FemReader
Synopsis: After an underwhelming proverb from an underwhelming fortune teller at the county fair, you have an unexpected run-in with Hazel. When time passes and feelings prosper, you finally begin to believe that maybe that fortune was right after all.
A/N: Enjoy this prologue to a fic i'm working on, while I slowly hoist myself out of this writing slump. Each chapter will have a lyric from a song by a queer artist, so I hope you enjoy :)
Prologue: "My heart's out. My guard's down." - Body and Mind, Girl in Red
────────────
To you, everything about the ‘End of Summer Carnival’ was enchanting. The pop-up canopies glowing in the night like lamps. The game booths sounding obnoxious buzzers as the kids played them for cheap toys. The tall, flashing lights welcoming onlookers to their sketchy rides, which, to your dislike, capriciously shook as they sat in the dirt -They weren’t safe, anyone with half of a mind knew that, but anyone with a sliver of fun would ride them anyway. Even the smell of the event was kind of charming. Sure, there’s the frequent whiffs of vomit and B.O., but usually those smells drown in the overwhelming scent of funnel cake and sugar. All in all, there was a lot to love about the carnival.
Like every year, you attend with Sylvie, whom you’ve known since… forever you think. You and her clicked. Maybe it was your reserved demeanor and her gregarious attitude that made things so easy. Many people found it shocking when they found out how close the two of you are, simply because you’re polar opposites. Either way, the two of you made quite the pair.
However, at the moment you stand alone among the carnival’s rapture.
All is well though, you have a routine for this sort of thing. You start out with the games, then the rides, then get food, and finish the night off with a ride on the Ferris wheel. It’s a perfect system you discovered a couple of years ago, and it hasn’t failed you yet. The only downfall of this plan is that Sylvie isn’t big on the carnival games, so you’re often left on your own for the first half. Which, you don’t mind, it’s less competition for the prizes anyway.
That’s how you’ve found yourself here, standing in front of an old vintage fortune-teller named ‘ZOLTAR.’
To your understanding, this is the first year the local carnival has had a fortune teller machine. The thing doesn’t even ask for one of your tickets, it only asks for a dollar. So, thinking it must be fate, you decide to try out your luck.
Inserting the money into the slot, a suspiciously long moment passes, a moment long enough for you to begin to think the thing must be broken, and you dollar just went to a waste. Yet, just as you were about to shake some life into the machine, a whimsical harp plays from the speaker, “Cheer up my friend, and listen to the proverb from Zoltar.”
The sudden, and unreasonably loud, audio makes you flinch.
“From small beginnings come great things.” The machine suggests. “Ah yes, and lucky for you the great Zoltar sees much happiness for you in the future. Go out and find it, but don’t run off too quickly, Zoltar has more to say for you.”
A shuttering emanates from the ticket dispenser, as it pushes out a small yellow ticket. Pulling it from the slot you read the back of the card.
It's all the same mumbo jumbo you'd expect from a fortune. 'Things are going to change soon… blah, blah, blah… Be brave in your choices… yadda, yadda, yadda.'
You huff a laugh looking down at the card. “great…” you mutter.
It’s truly is the same fortune-teller crap most people get, but you can’t help but to hope it’s true. What’s the harm in hoping, right?
However, after a few carnival games, this hope started to feel like bullshit. Firstly, your favorite game that’s here every year is gone, then you lose half your tickets gambling them away on some guessing game, then, at the time your supposed to meet Sylvie by the Ferris wheel, she’s a no show.
‘Great happiness in your future, my ass’ you thought.
At least you had enough cash left in your pocket to buy back the tickets you lost. But first, there was a fried Oreo stand practically calling your name with it's infectiously sweet aroma.
Deciding to ditch Sylvie's meeting spot, you make your way to the concession stand and join the endless line.
Minutes pass and you’re finally close to the front, with the delicious smells of chocolate and sugar getting stronger and stronger with each step. Although, another minute passes, then another, then another, and the line has yet to move. Peering to the front, you see a girl fumbling in her wallet, a look of panic evident of her face.
Even from a short distance, you’re sure you know who it is. Though, curious to see what’s going on, you listen in closer.
“Ma’am you can’t pay with tickets, we only accept cash.” The woman behind the counter argues.
“I know, I know, I’m so sorry. It’s just that I promised some friends-”
“If you don’t have any cash, I’m going to have to ask you to leave the line.”
Looking into your wallet for extra cash, you notice you only have cash for your own fried Oreo and some more tickets. If you were to buy more from the concession stand, you'd have to give up on the possibility of buying extra tickets later.
But, being that it's the last night of the summer and your 'lucky fortune' can't seem to come true, you at least have the chance to bring happiness to someone else's future.
“Excuse me!”
Both the woman behind the counter and Hazel turn to you.
“I have extra cash if you…” you suggest.
“Oh no, it’s…” Hazel dismisses, “You don’t have to do that.”
“It’s no problem, really. What were you going to get?” You ask, taking the money from your wallet, while making your way to the counter.
Hazel stares at you, dumbfounded, seemingly unsure if she should accept the offer.
“She was getting two churros and a stick of cotton candy.” The cashier speaks up.
You nod and count the cash before handing it to her. “Can you add a fried Oreo to that order?”
The woman bobs her head while counting the cash and shoves it into the register. “We’ll have that right out for you.”
“Thanks,” You smile and make your way to the pick-up bar for the food. Hazel follows you hesitantly, presumably taken back by the interaction.
“You didn’t have to do that,” she comments.
“Yeah, but I wanted to.”
As embarrassing as it may be to admit, there was always this fondness with her, an insatiable desire to be her friend. But, making friends wasn’t always your strong suit. You mostly kept to yourself, sat in the back of the class with your nose in a book. Sylvie’s told you countless times how unapproachable you look, but you never got around to fixing that detail.
Hazel wears a confused expression, as if she couldn't quite piece together something in her head.
“I’m y/n, by the way.” You begin, figuring she's probably trying to pin a name to your face. “Hazel, right?”
“Um- yeah. You know my name?”
“Yeah I mean, we’ve been going to the same school since like freshman year. Of course I know who you are.”
Truthfully, it wasn’t normal to know random people’s names in your school. It’s a big school, filled with a lot of people. Many students graduate not knowing half of their class. But, you knew Hazel’s name because, like anyone you find interesting, you learned it.
“Oh yeah, right.” She laughs awkwardly. “I knew your name too, by the way.”
You smile, letting out an amused huff at her insistence before looking to the Ferris wheel, where Sylvie has yet to show up. You'd be worried if it weren't Sylvie being her usual self. She either got caught in some atrociously long line, or is currently talking some poor souls head off somewhere.
“I-um,” Hazel begins. “I don’t think I ever thanked you for the food, so… thanks.”
“Yeah, of course. Don't mention it." You chirp.
“No really, I owe you one. Usually they accept tickets at these things, but I guess they don’t do that anymore.”
“Yeah, they stopped doing that last year after some kid, like, figured out how to forge the concession tickets or something.”
Suddenly, her expression turns into one of clarity. “I was wondering why they didn’t offer concession tickets this year.” She pauses, then lowering her voice to a near whisper. “How did they find out about the fakes though?”
“Wait- was that you?”
Suddenly, she lights up, as if she'd been waiting her whole life for someone to ask. “Yeah, I just bought some customizable raffle tickets online and printed all the same stuff on them. It was pretty easy, considering most tickets, like the one for the rides, have special codes on them so they can’t be replicated, but not the concession ones. There wasn’t anything fancy like that on them.”
After seconds of staring in complete bafflement, you can’t help but to laugh. She was the last person you’d expect to pull such thing off, but maybe that’s because you didn’t know her as much as you wish you did. “That’s honestly genius. I mean, it’s a shame you got caught.”
“I don’t even know how they found out! I was super inconspicuous about it.”
At this, you only laugh harder. It wasn’t even that funny of a situation but for some reason, maybe because it was her, you felt lighter.
“Two churros, a cotton candy, and a fried Oreo!” The woman calls from the counter.
The two of you turn your attention towards the tray of food under the pick-up window. Hazel grabs her share of food, though not before handing you your portion.
“Well,” you begin, while unwrapping the treat in your hands. “Maybe next time you can learn to forge actual money.”
“That would be so cool,” She beams, evidently not catching your sarcasm.
“Cool, but also a federal crime.”
“It’s only a crime if you get caught.”
“Thats a terrible philosophy.” you remark. Glancing at the ferris wheel, Sylvie had finally showed. She waited patiently under beaming lights. “Oh, I gotta go. I’ll see you at school, I guess?”
Something flashes in hazel’s demeanor, something you couldn't quite identify before it was gone and replaced by a smile “Yeah -uh, I’ll see you then.” She waves. “Thanks again.”
“no problem,” you wave off, before taking off towards Sylvie, who quickly spots you walking over, and begins to wave frantically, as if you couldn’t already see her under the blinding light.
“Y/n!” She calls, “You’ll never guess what I saw!”
You smile, rolling your eyes playfully. “It better be the reason you were a whole thirty minutes late to meeting me.”
“Uh-huh,” She answers quickly. “I saw someone get hit by a car.”
A pit of shock and concern fills you. “Oh my god are they okay? Are- Are you okay? How the hell did-”
“No it’s fine, it was just Jeff.”
Immediately that pit of shock dissolves, and your mind begins to wonder how the whole town hasn’t already erupted into a riot simply because it was Jeff. “Okay, so…is he okay?”
“Well, you know, of course he’s taking it way too far and acting like the car hit him at ninety miles per hour, when in reality it was probably one, but yeah, he’s fine.”
That part was believable. For football players who are the size of grown men, they were about as fragile as a china doll. But, the fact that you hadn’t heard about it the moment it happened… that part was a little hard to grasp. “So, you’re telling me, the Jeff -Jeff the star player of the Rockbridge football team, got hit by a car and the town hasn’t turned to pitchforks and torches yet?”
“Yes!” She exclaims excitingly. “I mean, the whole team is devastated, but the people are handling it pretty good if you ask me.”
You huff, taking a bite into your food. “Well, I guess that’s a good enough excuse for you being late.”
“I’m sorry,” She exaggerates, dragging out the apology. “To make it up to you, I’ll let you choose the first ride we go on together.”
“Oh, how generous,” You tease. “But I blew all my tickets on the carnie games.”
“You serious? Why don’t you just buy more?”
“All the cash I brought was spent on food.”
She gives you a curious look, likely surprised that you, for once, came to something unprepared. For some reason you have yet to uncover, a part of you didn’t feel like telling Sylvie about the run-in with Hazel.
“Well, lucky for you, I stole some of my stepdad’s money for tonight. So we can just buy more.”
you laugh, “I don’t think I feel comfortable using stolen step-dad money."
“Then don’t think of it like that. Think of it like I’m your super rich sugar momma, and I’m treating you to a night out.” She shoves a wad of tickets into your hands forcefully.
“Right,” you deadpan, accepting the tickets. ”Step-dad’s money it is.”
“Great,” She cheers, playfully putting an arm around your shoulder.
The rest of the night was spent using all of Sylvie's remaining tickets for eating overtly sweet foods, riding unnecessarily fast rides, and throwing up in grotesque smelling trash cans. Or in other words, the night was spent perfectly. You and Sylvie stuck around til closing and ended the night sleeping over at your place, which is always the go-to spot for the both of you since Sylvie absolutely despises her stepdad. Come to think of it, you’ve probably only been to her house once, way back when her parents were still together. These days, it’s your house and your house only. You never minded the company.
But, as the early morning came and the first day of school had arrived, you began to regret this decision.
Body aching, stomach wrenching, and head sagging like a block of cement, all the decisions of last night finally caught up to you. You felt like shit, and you weren’t the only one. Next to you, Sylvie groaned, dragging her hands down her face as she sat up from the air mattress on the floor.
“I think I’m dying,” She complains.
You hum in agreement, pulling yourself from under the covers and throwing your legs off the bedside. “Do we have to go? It’s our last year, it doesn't really matter if we skip anymore, right?"
“I mean… I’d be down to skip if you are. We can rot in bed and watch movies all day and pretend it’s still summer and that school never started.”
Staring at her with a stoic expression, you hop off the bed and begin to make your way towards the closet. “You’re supposed to convince me to go, not enable me.”
She shrugs, putting her hands up in surrender. “I never said I was a good influence. You decided that on your own.”
You huff, pulling off random pieces of clothing from the drawers and off the hook. “Yeah, well,” You sigh, throwing the clothes on the bed. “I’m going to need all the influence I can get to leave this house before eight. And by influence, I mean caffeine and ibuprofen.”
“Oh!” She exclaims shooting up from the bed. “I’ll get the ibuprofen.”
“Please don’t grab the wrong thing like you did last time.”
A wide grin plasters on her face. “You mean the laxative incident? That was hilarious.”
“No, no it wasn’t.” The last time Sylvie was in charge of grabbing ibuprofen was the night of the Junior and Senior prom. You developed a monster headache from all the cologne clouding the gymnasium air, and when Sylvie somehow came back with laxatives instead of a pain reliever, you were too absorbed in the pain to notice any difference. “I had to leave prom early because all the fucking bathrooms were full with orgies and stoners.”
“Yeah, that was awesome,” She giggles.
“Just please grab the right stuff this time.”
“Yeah, yeah. I can handle it.” And with that, she walks out the room and towards the kitchen where the pharmaceuticals are stored. This time, hopefully, she will come back with the right medicine. You dind't want this sudden luck of yours to continue any longer.
#Thank you for reading!#Don't know how much I like this prologue#I promise it gets better#bottoms 2023#hazel callahan#hazel callahan x you#hazel callahan x reader#hazel callahan x y/n
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