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#but I realized he and Xavier weren’t in regular contact on the day of the incident so he must’ve made it before then
hirayaea · 4 months
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ONCE UPON A TIME, IN PHILOS
Jeremiah: Xavier, please, you just need to wear this costume and wave to the crowd!
Xavier: No.
Jeremiah: It’s for charity! Do your duty as Prince of Philos, why don’t you?!
Xavier: I said no.
MC: Oh, Xavier, I finally found you! Here’s our matching masks for the charity event later!
Xavier: Matching… masks?
MC: Yeah, didn’t Jeremiah say? We’re going to have a play sword fight to amuse the kids! You and I will be the Moonshade Duo! Pretty cool, right?
Xavier: …Yeah.
MC: Get dressed soon, okay? Anyway, see you later!
Xavier: …
Jeremiah:
Jeremiah: *sighs* I guess I’ll ask someone else, huh—
Xavier: Quiet. And give me that.
/
SOMETIME DURING THEIR SPACE JOURNEY
Xavier: Why did you even decide to pack my Moonshade Duo outfit?
Jeremiah: You never know what world we’ll arrive in, what disguise you’ll need!
Xavier: But… it’s pointless without the pair outfit.
Jeremiah: Stop sulking, Captain! I made these, so I can make her another one once the time comes!
/
14 YEARS AGO (FROM PRESENT TIME)
Jeremiah, after seeing Lumiere land in front of him during the day of the incident: You— I thought you didn’t like— you actually wore it on your own?!
Xavier, brandishing his sword: Not. A. Word.
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egcdeath · 4 years
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secret santa
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pairing: ransom drysdale x f!reader
a/n: this is so self indulgent. SO SELF INDULGENT. more self indulgent than anyone will ever be able to comprehend. before u all read this, i want u to know it was originally supposed to be about training ransom at a job, but then i realized that i nothing about 1. working at a coffee shop and 2. training an employee. also, i am the worst at writing dialogue. so i didn’t write a lot of dialogue LMAO enjoy :)
also, half of this was written at 1 am. just a warning
warnings: coffee shop au, enemies (kinda) to lovers, a lil fluff, not really angst but bitter feelings, kinda slow burn and then all the sudden a fast burn i’m sorry 😭
word count: 2.6k
You woke up to the sound of your alarm rumbling your bedside table sometime around the asscrack of dawn, and rubbed your eyes with a groan. Sometimes, you really couldn’t stand your job, but bills didn’t really pay themselves, did they? You rolled out of bed, and began your dreaded morning routine before heading out to start your opening shift at your local café.
Somewhere between warming up the espresso machine and taking out last night’s trash (which you shouldn’t have had to do in the first place), an older, yet expensive looking car pulled up to the front of the parking lot. You were a bit confused, as you’d never seen this vehicle, and it was quite clear that you weren’t exactly open yet. You watched as a tall man hopped out of the car, wearing a large peacoat and very unnecessary sunglasses. He approached the door, gave it a knock, then waited for you to come open it for him. Reluctantly, you made your way over, and in order to keep yourself safe, began to speak through the glass.
“Can I help you?” You asked in an annoyed tone, then gestured towards the piece of paper that labeled your hours on the door. There was no reason for any customer to be here this early. You looked up at the mystery man and made a rather intense eye contact with him. If this was any indicator of your crowd today, work was going to be far from pleasant.
“Yeah, I was told that I’m starting today?” He had a wicked smirk on his face, like he knew he was getting under your skin already. You hated people like him, and couldn’t believe that he could possibly be your coworker. On the bright side, he probably wouldn’t last long in the first place.
“Well, are you sure you’re here on time? I can’t see any situation where Melissa would schedule to open for your very first shift.” You commented with a furrowed brow.
“Eh, I kinda just figured I’d come in whenever. The girl in my bed was an early riser, so I thought to myself ‘Why not just come in now?’” He said casually.
“Your name?” You inquired, trying to keep your annoyance to yourself, and put on a customer service smile.
“Hugh, or Ransom,” he responded. You turned around, allowed yourself a huff and eye roll, then walked through the kitchen, and into the break room to check if he truly was a new employee, or just some random creep. Sure enough, a bright pink post-it note in very neat handwriting confirmed this man’s existence. You made your way back to the door, unlocked it, and let him in.
“Since you’re here, you should… set down the chairs,” you told him, less than entertained by his presence. You could just tell he was bad news. This Ransom guy was like the textbook definition of a red flag. He talked your ear off while you tried to get through your opening routine, some casual remarks about his last hookup, complaints about how he only got this job because his mother was a regular and good friends with your manager, and how he was threatened to get cut out of his grandfather’s will if he didn’t get employed soon, and what better way to spite your family than to mess up their daily coffees.
Eventually, a few more of your coworkers, along with your manager, Melissa, made it to the café before the morning rush began. You were sitting down at your typical barstool spot, and sipping an iced Americano when Melissa broke the news to you that you would be training the new employee. Upon hearing the news, you audibly groaned, and rubbed your forehead. There was no way that you could handle this man.
-------
During his first week, Ransom not only managed to offer (and successfully give) six customers his phone number, break two mugs, mess up more orders than even Euclid could comprehend, and spill straws a multitude of times all over the floor, but he began to flirt with you relentlessly. You had no idea why you’d become his new target of choice, when it was clear that he could have literally anyone he wanted. Maybe he liked that you were playing hard to get.
If you were being honest, you had to accept that he was handsome. And rich. And the definition of a fuckboy. And since you were being frank with yourself, you had to acknowledge that you were attracted to that ‘toxic and will treat you like shit’ kind of guy. You had a roster of ex boyfriends to prove that for you.
---
It was a pretty slow Tuesday afternoon, which meant you were sitting on your phone until a customer placed an order. Eventually, the little bell above the door chimed, and an older man came through, ordering a dark and bitter drink, then standing by the counter to wait. You began to restock lids while Ransom took care of making the drink, and once it was ready, you passed it over to the man. The man in question took a rather large sip, then promptly spat it out.
“What the fuck is this!” He roared, barely giving you time to react before he proceeded to toss the drink at you, spilling most of the hot content on your apron.
You gasped, gawking down at your scorched and ruined clothing, then up at the customer, who’d turned around with a huff and left, leaving a stream of strong language on his way out. You bit back tears at the whole fiasco, and cringed as both the steamy drink, and your salty tears stung different parts of your body. You turned to look at the barista, who had passed you along the drink, and were met with no other than the white devil himself. It seemed that all the blood had drained from his already otherwise pale face.
“Oh my god, this is all my fault,” he began remorsefully. “Let me make it up to you somehow.”
“Whatever,” you huffed, running a hand through your hair, and shoving Ransom angrily while you more or less stomped into the staff bathroom.
You looked at yourself in the mirror and frowned before bringing up your bundled apron to your face and screaming into it. Stupid fucking customers. Stupid fucking job. Stupid fucking Ransom. It’s like he came to your job just to make it hell. You were tired of cleaning up all these messes for him, and honestly, you wish he’d just quit already. The longer you worked with him, the more tempted you were to pour sugar in his gas tank, then take a club and break all the windows in the Beemer.
------
For the next month, your brain was completely elsewhere at work. Your brain was constantly going back and forth with you between finding Ransom hot and horrendous. While the pair of you finished up closing one night, you heard your coworker begin to speak to you as you placed your hand on the keys in your pocket.
“I know you hate me, Y/N. I get it. What that guy did to you was awful, and yes it was my fault, but what else have I done to hurt you?” He asked, seemingly out of the blue. You weren’t even sure how to respond. Ignoring the man and demonizing him in your head had become almost a second nature. “I mean, I think we could’ve been good friends. Even though you seem to think I’m devil incarnate, I think you’re a pretty cool chick-“ he continued before being cut off by you.
“Why do you even care?” you burst out, “Ransom, you just don’t get it do you? You’re just.. a douchebag. I get it, you have your moments where you’re candid and open with people, but half of the time you’re talking, you’re objectifying someone. Or bragging about something you own. Don’t get me wrong, I could get past what you did to me on accident, but you seriously have to work on yourself,” the words just seemed to pour out without your control. “Goodnight, Ransom,” you said simply before leaving the café for the night.
——
Since that day, the tension between you and Ransom had evidently become more thick. Since he was finally finished training with you, you made sure to only speak to him if you absolutely needed to, and even then, you only communicated with him in brief and straightforward answers. Sure, it seemed like a small thing to be upset about, and sure, he’d apologized, but something told you that any excuse to stay away from Ransom was a good excuse.
Though he appeared to be an immoral and selfish man, he seemed genuinely sorry for all that he’d put you through. Occasionally, you’d be sitting in the break room and look up from your phone to see him watching you. When you’d make eye contact, he would look like he wanted to say something to you, but your petty ass would leave, or look back at your phone. He was bad news anyway.
Your boss quickly caught onto what was going on between the two of you, and usually, Melissa didn’t like to participate in petty drama, but your new sour mood was such a stark contrast from before, and it seemed to shift the whole mood of the café.
That afternoon, Melissa called for a team meeting a bit before closing, and suggested a family dinner along with a Secret Santa. She’d said something along the lines of ‘It’s been way too long since we’ve done a team bonding activity, and a gift exchange is perfectly fitting for the Holiday season.’ This did make you perk up, as Melissa had a great taste in restaurants, and you were always down for a good gift exchange.
Melissa then told everyone to write their names down, then put them in a decorative Santa hat. You and your coworkers obliged, then began to pass around the hat once again in order to draw a name. You really hoped to get Xavier. You had the perfect idea of something he’d love. As you drew a piece of paper from the hat, you imagined the matching pair of fluffy socks for a human and dog that you’d passed by during your last trip to Target. You began to unfold it, thinking of what color he might like the most, when you looked down and saw ‘Ransom’ drawn out in chicken scratch.
You tried your best to mask your annoyance at who you received, but on the inside, you were seething. You mentally cursed the universe out while you pulled on your coat, and grimaced to yourself once you got out to your car. How were you supposed to get this asshole a gift?
—-
The week leading up to the exchange went fairly well for you, although it was getting a bit exhausting to be so mad at Ransom all the time. You tried to be less harsh with him, considering you needed to learn more about him in order to get him a somewhat decent gift for your exchange.
He’d seem to have taken your conversation with him to heart, and began to talk less and less about other girls when he was working with you. He didn’t comment on how well your jeans fit you, and you noticed that he’d often overextend himself in order to help you with (pretty basic) daily aspects of the job. Ransom would ask you questions about yourself, and your family, and speak less about himself. If you were honest with yourself, he was becoming a better man. And the best part was, he seemed to be doing it just for you. The thought of which brought heat to your face.
On the night of the exchange, you threw on a hideous and scratchy Christmas sweater before picking up your neatly wrapped gift for Ransom. You truly hoped that he’d like it, even though it certainly wasn’t the most expensive item. You bid farewell to your cat, then went on your way to the restaurant. You had to admit, you were a bit late. So it should’ve been no surprise when you arrived, and found that the only seat left at the table was next to Ransom. You gave him a cordial smile before sitting down and ordering yourself a glass of Merlot.
Something about being so close to him was kind of riling you up. The strong timbre sent coming off of him was making your whole body feel slightly warmer than normal, and you tried to ignore this strange sensation while you talked and joked with your coworkers. At one point, Ransom leaned in nice and close to you, and began to speak to you.
“Jesus Christ, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything as hideous as Karmen’s sweatshirt,” he whispered right into the shell of your ear. Maybe it was the wine talking, but that simple action sent a whole chill through your body, and made you flush even harder than you’d flushed before. You let out a little giggle and nodded in agreement, looking across the table at her very ugly sweater.
“To be fair, the whole point of this was to wear something really ugly,” you turned your head back to where it was before, only to find that Ransom had somehow moved even closer to you.
“I just don’t know where you find something like that,” he commented, gazing much too deep into your eyes. You swore you felt the room shift after he began looking at you like that. There was about a 20% chance that you’d be able to keep your panties on after this kind of exchange. Luckily for you, a waitress broke the tension for you, setting down a few plates for everyone, then bidding them farewell. Damn.
The food was amazing, and didn’t last very long, meaning that it was time to pass gifts around sooner than later. You watched as Amy received a gift card from Sophie, Emily opened a plethora of chocolates gifted to her by Melissa, and Xander whiffed a candle given to him by Kennedy, then, it was your turn. You glanced around the table before you felt the arm next to you reach down, then hand you an oversized gift bag.
“I hope you like it,” Ransom said with a shy smile. You casually felt your cheeks on your way to pull out the very large item. You found it was a very large, and soft, hand knit blanket. It looked like it could’ve cost a small fortune, and you immediately found yourself embarrassed.
“Oh wow. This is perfect! Thank you so much,” you grinned over at your coworker, who seemed to be blushing himself. “Well, I guess I should probably give you this then,” you chuckled awkwardly before passing him your wrapped package. He tore it open barbarically, then began to laugh. Of all the gifts in the world, you two had gotten each other somewhat similar items. Sure, it wasn’t hand knit with the love of some grandma who ran a small business on Etsy, but it was the thought that counts.
“I love it, Y/N,” he exclaimed, looking deep into your eyes once again. He ran his fingers through the soft fabric, then set a hand on your arm. In that moment, it felt like time stopped. It was just you two, sitting in a quiet room, enjoying the presence of each other. You don’t even know what had gotten into you, but before you knew it, you felt a nose pressed up against yours, and a billion butterflies erupt out of your stomach. You heard a few grimaces from your coworkers at the sappy, Hallmark-like moment but what could you say.
Maybe Ransom was not that bad after all.
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a-pretty-nerd · 4 years
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Tomura Shigaraki x AllMight!Daughter!Reader
Chapter 3 
Premis:
When The League of Villains discovers that AllMight has a daughter, they are quick to snatch you up and hold you hostage. Shigaraki had a careful and thought out plan, but that was before you got there. Now you're in the mood for some not-so-healthy rebellion.
Word count: 1,556 
Warnings: Panic Attack, themes of depression and self-hatred. Later chapters will include violence and nsfw content. 
A/N: 
I'm gonna try and have a pretty regular posting schedule. From now on I'm going to try posting once a day, even of its just a headcannon, I wanna post once a day now. I'M GOING TO TRY AND POST ONE CHAPTER A WEEK. Especially for this series, I'm having a lot of fun with it but Tumblr doesn't seem to like it and refuses to post it to the hashtags. Sorry, I know this chapter is kinda short, but I feel like this series deserves a slow, intense, burn. 
Don't forget, I have a Patreon, where you can join my discord, vote on new projects, and make requests! Thanks for reading!
Chapter 2 Chapter 4
Days passed. 
It all felt like a strange blur. You wondered around the abandoned house the villains called their hideout for the time being. You spent hours watching the news that Shigaraki constantly played. Despite being the daughter of the Japan’s #1 hero, there wasn’t a single report of your disappearance. You were confused. 
“They’re probably keeping the investigation quiet. Y’know, so we don’t see them coming.” Dabi told you one day as you sat on the old dusty couch and watched. You watched helplessly as the group came and went, always having someone stay behind to ‘babysit’ as Mr. Compress referred to it. 
You were allowed to wander around the old abandoned building the villains called their hideout. At first, you thought it was a house but now you realized it was an old office building. The villains mostly stayed in a specific part where they were made comfortable. It appeared that only a certain part of the building had power. Everywhere else was dark and cold and uncomfortable. 
“Yeesh, you stick!-Take a bath!” Twice shouted at you one day. You frowned and crossed your arms over your chest and stuck your hands under your arms. 
“Speak for yourself! Not my fault you guys didn’t exactly grab me a change of clothes, or let me piss alone much less shower!” You shouted in frustration. It all seemed to dawn on them at once, maybe they hadn’t exactly thought this through all the way. 
“Y’know what? You’re right! I’ll be right back!” Toga declared with a smile. 
“Where are you going?” Shigaraki asked as he watched her head for the door. 
“It’s a surprise!” She closed the door behind her and the room fell silent. Spinner soon approached only to recoil in disgust. 
“Twice is right, you do stink.” He grunted. 
“Thanks…” You grumbled. 
“Here take this and go wash off.” He held out a raggedy towel. You were directed to a bathroom with a makeshift shower in it and told to wash off before the bathroom door closed. The water was horribly cold. 
You stood under it and let the water wash over your naked body. Man, you really were dirty. The cold water soon became warmer and you lost yourself in the feeling of it. You closed your eyes and melted. Soon, the feeling of tears running down your cheeks mixed in with the sensation of your wet hair tickling the back of your neck. You crouched down and held your knees to your chest as you began to sob uncontrollably. You couldn’t stop it, the pain in your chest flowed out through your lips are you cried. You held yourself tight, your fingers digging into your legs. The pain was so intense, and your thoughts so muddied, you could see yourself sitting there, just crying. Objectively, you watched yourself and criticized. 
This was all your fault, your mother and father are worried sick about you. All because you pushed yourself too hard and couldn’t fight back. You’re a mess. You deserve this. You’ll die here, they’ll kill you before you can see your parents again. You’re worthless. You can’t even protect yourself. 
These thoughts only made the pain more intense, it made it worse. You sobs grew louder and louder and the pain grew and grew. It got to the point where you felt unable to control yourself. You began lashing out, hitting your own head, and scratching your legs. Then another thought emerged. 
This wasn’t your fault. If it weren’t for him. If it weren’t for your father and his stupid fucking hero work, you’d be home right now. You’d be safe and sound and unbothered by this hero/villain mess. He didn’t even want you to come to Japan, so why were you here? He doesn’t even want you. And your mother, she’s the one that sent you. This was her idea. This was her fault too. Anger fed the pain in your chest and it ached. The attack on your mind and body ragged on, until you heard a knock on the door. 
You felt unable to move, unable to stop. You cursed yourself again. They could hear you, couldn’t they? They could hear you crying. You expected someone to yell, but there wasn’t a voice. The door slowly opened and shut. The curtain was slowly drawn back and two eyes looked down at you. You shook violently as you looked up. Suddenly you became very aware that you were naked. 
“Why are you crying?” Toga asked as she knelt down to get closer to you. You couldn’t respond. “What’s wrong? We’re not going to hurt you, I promise. Hey, don’t cry, it’s alright. Look, I brought you some new clothes.” She reached out a hand and rubbed your naked back. 
“I-I-I’m sorry.” You croaked. 
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” she reassured, “you’re safe here, no one is going to hurt you. And if anyone does, you come to me, alright?” 
“O-Okay.” 
“Are you done washing off?” You shook your head no. “Okay well finish up and try these on. I think you’ll like it.” She set the new clothes on the bathroom counter before leaving you. You sniffled and struggled to stand, but you managed. You took deep breathes and tried to soothe yourself. You felt drained and empty now, if not a little bit better. You stepped out and looked at the clothes on the counter. They were soft and comfortable, how did she guess the right size of underwear but the wrong size shirt and pants? They were just a little big, they fit fine where it mattered, but just a little baggy everywhere else. Definitely not something you’d pick out for yourself, but it would do for now. 
You brushed through your wet hair with your fingers and stared at yourself in the mirror for a moment. Your eyes were red and puffy, your face flushed. It made your heart race to know that everyone was well aware you were crying. You opened the door and everyone turned to look at you again. Oh god. Toga pulled herself away from what looked like a chat with Shigaraki. 
“Damn! One size off! I knew it!” Toga shouted as she approached you to examine the clothes on you. 
“They’re fine, really.” You mumbled to her as she pulled on the pants at the band. 
“Are they comfortable at least?” She asked folding her arms over her chest. 
“Yes. Thank you.” 
“Oh don’t mention it! Next time I’ll have to take you shopping with me!” She smiled. Next time? Take you? You stared blankly at her. She pulled you with her to sit on the couch and watch more of the news. 
“You know. Now that I think about it. I don’t think he wants it out that I exist.” You thought out loud. 
“What do you mean?” Toga asked. You turned to her with a blank face. 
“Its always been a secret. I could never talk about my dad, even when I was little. Everyone assumed I just didn’t have a dad. Even when we came to visit when I was younger, no one knew I was his daughter. If the public asked, I was his niece. They always told me it was for my own safety. I get that now.” You chuckled to yourself. “But that’s probably why there’s no report on my disappearance. No one can know. I’m just a dirty little secret.” 
“Xavier! Over here!” 
Your mother called as she stood partially outside a taxi. Xavier, your “boyfriend” waved back to your mother as she dragged along his luggage. 
“Ms. Y/L/N! I’m sorry I’m late! The flight was delayed, I came as soon as you called.” Xavier was a clean-cut, academic genius. He wore slacks and a button-up on a daily basis. He was incredibly smart with several degrees by his early twenties and already on his way to becoming a very successful lawyer. He was handsome, conventionally so. He was handsome, smart, thoughtful, and generous. He was everything your mother wanted for you. 
But that was it, he was a gift from your mother you took reluctantly. She knew his father from work, it was all set up. You had been together for roughly a year now. You liked him enough to date to try and love even. He was nice and even fun at times. But you were lying every time you told him you loved him. You had been meaning to break it off for some time now, but you were unsure. You feared disappointing your mother, again. You were afraid to hurt him. You thought your trip to Japan would allow you to clear your mind and think about things before making a decision. 
Your mother brought him back to your father. Who was far too busy worrying about you to really care to give Xavier the time of day. Xavier had a very specific quirk, one that came in handy in the legal field. He could tell whether or not someone was lying just by making eye contact with someone. He was now going to be a key player in getting you back. He, like your mother and father, was not going to rest until he had you back. You can be sure of that.
Taglist:
@bat-eclecticwolfbouquet-love @craftybean13 @babayaga67 @imjustverable
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fckinsupreme · 5 years
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Touch Me (I Want Your Body) - Xavier Plympton One-Shot
Description: After a jazzercise class in which you’re a regular, Xavier fantasizes about you. 
Word count: 2k
Warnings: Male masturbation, dirty talk, mentions of female reader, mentions of oral sex, mentions of unprotected sex, other filth. 
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A/N: Anonymous requested -  Hello ^w^ could u write a smut where xavier is touching himself/masturbating/moaning n talkin’ dirty ? Idk if it’s gross or whatever, btw it would be so wonderful. 
Sorry if this has been done before! It turned out a lot longer than I planned, too. The title was taken from Samantha Fox’s song of the same name. I hope y’all like it! <3
No copyright infringement intended! Any rights belong to proper shareholders and they deserve the ultimate credit.
gif credit: @codyfernsource
_________________________________
Xavier’s work day at the studio had ended, and his head was full of nothing but you as he sped home. It seemed that you were always on his mind, but for some unknown reason that day, his thoughts were in complete overdrive. Perhaps it was the daring ensemble you’d worn to his aerobics class, something white and nearly transparent with a thin sports bra beneath, to say nothing of the short, almost revealing bottoms. Xavier hadn’t been able to stop looking at you, his eyes finding you in front of the class time and time again, observing the near-erotic fashion that your body moved under his guidance. He was riled up, to say the least, and had to get home before his belief of combustion came to fruition. 
Driving had been a difficult task in his current state, but he somehow managed well enough. He parked his van in his designated parking space and nearly sprinted into his apartment, stumbling along the way in his haste. He peeled his clothes off as soon as he entered, leaving a trail of them from his front door to the bedroom. His erection was almost painful as it sprang free of his underwear, swollen and flushed red with a tiny bead of precum oozing from the tip. He fell onto his unmade bed, clumsily reaching for the lube from his nightstand drawer. He kept it next to him, close and at the ready, as his fingertips ghosted over his shaft. He started at the base, shuddering as your face began swirling in his mind again. He saw you, as you were that afternoon, biting your lip suggestively as your beautiful (e/c) eyes scanned his toned physique. He remembered your chest pushed out a bit unnecessarily as he made eye contact with you, your lips parted as you tossed some hair from your face. 
“Fuck,” he drawled, closing his fist around his aching cock and pumping slowly. “Y/N.”
Your voice, sweet as honey dripping from a hive, rang through Xavier’s head. All the conversations the two of you would have before and after each class, the way your lashes fluttered when you laughed at his dumb jokes, the flirtatious touch to his bicep when he would turn up the charm, the musical lilt of your voice flowing in and out of his ears every time you spoke. He imagined what you would sound like full of lust, your voice raspy and low as he warmed your body up for him. His hand snaking over one of your legs, his mouth on your neck, his other hand massaging your breast, your hands in his hair as you vocalized your desire...
Xavier pumped faster, stopping after a moment to pop open the lube. He didn’t want to chafe, wanting to enjoy this experience as much as possible with no horrid consequences. He squirted a generous amount onto his palm, slicking his cock with a moan as his eyes slipped closed. Behind his lids, he saw you again in today’s class. That tight, white exercise outfit, clinging to your hips and breasts like a second skin. Your nipples, erect and visibly poking within the fabric, enticed him to the point of being unable to look away. Every time his gaze left you and would find you again, your nipples were still stiff inside the confines of your top. At one point you’d bent forward, and a small trail of sweat made its way between the valley of your breasts. Your body swayed perfectly to the music, as if it were your own private dance meant for his eyes only.
He moves his fist more vigorously, a new image taking over. He saw you in his bed right then, nude and writhing above him as you sat on his face. You tasted as sweet as strawberries in summer, your moans the most beautiful song filling his ears. His tongue lapped every drop of arousal, his cock throbbing in his hand as he tried to picture what you’d look like on his relentless tongue. Your chest was heaving, your nipples hard as you played with them, your eyes droopy with lust, your messy (h/c) hair sticking to your sweaty forehead, your hips pushing downward to grind your pussy against his face. Xavier bit his lip, moaning hotly before swallowing thickly as the realistic image played in his mind. His orgasm was close, his lower stomach tight and skin on fire as he anticipated his eventual release.
“Y/N/,” he breathed, the sounds of him jerking off nearly drowning out his own voice. “You taste so good, babe. Sweeter than fucking sugar. You’re so fucking wet for me, aren’t you? You’re dripping all over my face.”
Xavier’s thumb toyed with his slit, pressing into it as he massaged around the head. He groaned, other hand trailing down his body to rest on his balls. He cupped them, giving them a squeeze as he arched slightly off the bed. In his head, he fantasized about you cumming, all because of him and the magic that he his mouth could do. You looked so stunning, so blissed out, your thighs shaking around his head as you squirt in his face. He smiled to himself, swallowing around a loud mewl as he bucked upward into his hand. He allowed the movie of his mind to switch scenes, with you on your knees deep-throating his cock. He held your hair from your eyes, smirking as you enthusiastically gave him a messy blowjob.
“Such a good girl,” he said aloud, whimpering audibly after the words fell from his lips. “You’re taking my cock so well, fuck.”
He kept his hips still in his fantasy, but outwardly, he was rutting in near-frenzied desperation. His hand traveled from his base to the tip, occasionally swiping his thumb against the slit. He applied more lube, making the image in his head seem more realistic as he resumed. He rolled his head on the pillow, body squirming and styled hair slightly disheveled as he felt his climax creeping ever closer. The sight of you on your knees was nice, and it brought him great pleasure, but he needed something more. He decided to turn to the one fantasy about you that never failed to do the trick, his tongue gliding over his full lips before speaking to the vacant space.
“You want me to fuck you?” he asked, flicking his wrist with a soft growl. “Do you want me to pound that perfect little pussy? Just say the word, baby, and I’ll do it.”
You consented in his head, begging him to fuck you immediately. He saw himself helping you onto your back, his own body hovering over yours. You gave him a nod and he pushed inside of you, both imaginary & real Xavier moaning filthily at the perceived sensation. You were tight, warm, enveloping his cock so well as he shoved even further inside. He stopped his hand for a moment to gather himself, continuing more rapidly than before when he was ready again. He imagined thrusting in and out of you at a steady pace, one that wasn’t too hard just yet. His body was damp with sweat, his chest rising and falling with his heavy breathing as the pressure in his abdomen crept toward a breaking point. You felt so fucking good, and you weren’t shy in conveying how the feeling was mutual. You couldn’t stop moaning, clawing at him, gasping his name as though it were the only thing keeping you alive as you repeatedly clenched around his throbbing erection.
“You fit me like a fucking glove, baby girl,” he groaned to the empty room, the Xavier of his imagination speeding up and rubbing your clit in rapid circles. In reality, his movements become jerkier, his slick hand faltering for a split second before pumping as fast as he could. “Are you gonna cum for me? Are you gonna make a mess all over Daddy?”
You answered him by experiencing your orgasm, nails digging into his skin as you cried out his name. Your cunt squeezed around him, contracting and threatening to milk every last drop of cum from his balls. You arched against him, lips open and face twisted in ecstasy as he thrust desperately into his fist. His climax was coming hard and fast, and he was unable to stop it. His eyes rolled back into his skull, his cock twitching within his lubed palm as the coil in his stomach began to snap.
Y/N, Y/N, Y/N...Beautiful fucking goddess that she was, coming undone because of me. Goddammit, she’s so gorgeous when she cums. Look at her, oh dear God, fucking look at her--
“Fuck!” Xavier cried, his loud moans ricocheting off the walls. Hot ropes of sticky cum coated his stomach, some of it shooting onto his palm and a few drops cascading his shaft. His back came off the mattress, head tossed into the pillows as he mewled needfully. “Y/N, shit…”
He lay there for a moment, experiencing his high as his rational mind began to make a comeback. He grinned to himself, holding up his soiled hand to assess the damages. He grabbed a few tissues from the top of his nightstand, wiping the worst of the mess away before going into the bathroom to properly clean up. As he was washing off the sweat & semen in the shower, now relaxed and clear-headed, he remembered something that had occurred earlier: You had given him your number with a flirty wink and a sultry, “Call me sometime this weekend.” 
The realization hit him like a ton of bricks. How could he have forgotten something so significant? Perhaps it was the lust, or his desire to release his own sexual tension, or maybe he’d been too distracted by that damn workout ensemble of yours. He had no real way of pinpointing the exact cause at this point, but what if it wasn’t real? What if it was a figment of his sex-charged imagination? It would explain why it took him so long to remember, the forgotten memory not a real loss due to the fact that it never even happened. 
Xavier finished his shower in a hurry, drying off haphazardly and rushing to his discarded workout shorts. He dug through the pockets in a panic, thinking that he did remember incorrectly when he started turning up nothing. Then, he finds it--a small scrap of paper with your name and phone number written across it. He exhaled a sigh of relief, clutching it in his hand as if it were something rare and sacred that would destroy him if it were lost. He glanced at it, chewing his lip as he briefly debated what to do. He knew that it may be a foolish mistake, but he ran to the phone immediately and dialed the number. 
After everything he’d just done, he wondered if those fantasies would become a reality. He had to know; the curiosity was killing him. If you didn’t want to do anything with him, it would be absolutely fine, of course. But what if you did? What if you desired him as much as he did you? More than once, he mused about whether or not you touched yourself to him as well. The thought alone always turned him on all the more, and he had to make himself stop at that very moment before he created yet another monster later on.
“Hello?” your breathless voice rang from the other end, abruptly bringing Xavier out of his own head and catching him off guard.
That voice. That sweet, sexy voice…
“Uh, Y/N,” he said, pinching the bridge of his nose as he tried collecting his thoughts. “Hey, pretty girl.” He took a beat, trying to decide what to say before blurting: “I was gonna go get some coffee later and wondered if you wanted to go with me?”
There was near-silence on the other end, and Xavier could’ve sworn he heard the sound of a vibrator when she picked up. It stopped during the pause, and Xavier wouldn’t allow himself to believe that she was doing what he perceived her to be doing. It would have been too good to be true, a disappointment bred from wishful thinking. He clutched the phone hard, chewing the inside of his cheek as he awaited her next move. 
             A breathy chuckle came from her, and then: “Xavier? Xavier Plympton? Hey there, handsome; I was hoping you would call.”
You sounded out of breath still, and his brows knitted together. “Are you busy? Is this a bad time for you?”
“Mmm, no,” you breathed. “It’s a great time, Xav.”
He smiled nervously into the receiver, toying with the coiled cord of the phone. His palms were moist, his teeth picking at the dry, chapped skin of his lower tier. The very thought of what you may have been doing when he called was highly arousing, and he had to steady his breathing to keep himself distracted. “Yeah, uh...I know it’s really soon--”
“Never too soon when it comes to you,” you say flirtatiously. “I’m happy that you called right away.” Another pause, the sound of her shifting on the other side, and then: “Let’s go get that coffee, and then if you really want…”
Xavier waited with bated breath, pondering over what you would say next. When it came, he nearly toppled over, gripping the nearest surface so hard that his knuckles turned white. Of all the things he expected you to say, that had been the last on the list. He didn’t know what else to say, too stunned to even formulate a clear, understandable statement. She was waiting for him to reply to everything she had just said, though, and he said the first thing that came to mind.
“...well, fuck.” 
____
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helpinghanikan · 5 years
Text
Public Enemy
X-men x Reader
Sum:  Powers don’t always obey their masters. Sometimes they have their own minds, making problems and causing destruction that you’re left to deal with. When that happens, you’re going to need some help finding a sanctuary. 
an: It’s not specified what Reader’s power is but I was thinking force-fields. I just think Force-field powers are neat. 
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Charles Xavier:
Charles’s office, specifically the couch, has been your home for some time. Although it has only been a few days, two at most, but it felt like years. Hours spent sitting specifically in the couch’s corner where anyone entering wouldn’t notice you right away. Reading and taking your place as secretary more seriously makes time move in a slower fashion.
“Would you grab that book for me?” Charles asks, slapping you out of whatever deep thought you were currently drowning in.
At first these little tasks he asks you to do seem to come randomly. As if he just remembered you were there and felt bad. In reality he’s probably been in the outer layer of your mind for longer then you’ve been in the office.
Ignoring these facts, you focused on your work. It had spread quickly through the school that you were open and able to grade anyone’s homework or papers. Like the rest of your current life, these were taken care in Charles’s office. A place you’ve been bent over for hours until a phone call held your attention.
Charles is a pretty decent liar. Between his history with authority and with children, he speaks with enough confidence that it’s not worth thinking about. Obviously he still had his tells, even if the person he was lying wasn’t in front of him, he still looked down and go quiet for a second.
“No, I’m afraid we haven’t heard from her.” When he starts his lie, his tells are typically gone. “Yes, we will absolutely contact you if she comes here. And, in the event of that happening, I ask that consider our relationship before deciding anything.”
You don’t say anything when he hangs up. Instead deciding that to grab that book before he asks you to.
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Erik Lehnsherr:
Erik was nice enough not to say or ask anything at first. Your few items in a bag, and all your savings spent on bribing a boat captain to take you here. All this was written on your face, practically screaming that you don’t want to talk about it.
“Is anyone going to be coming?” was the only thing he asked.
Instead of a verbal answer you shrugged with a shake of your head. Maybe…
Erik uses the excuse of an escort to keep a hand on your back, around your shoulders. Even gently on the back of your neck to ask his question in a whisper. Although Genosha was supposedly a sanctuary to all mutants, you were still an outsider. An outsider who had, not only, caused destruction but just might bring down the anger of the world onto them.
“You came here quickly, then.” Erik says, in leadership mode. Sitting across from you, elbows on his knees, looking almost into you.
“You guys aren’t exactly hiding,” It wasn’t a good joke but still you blow air out of your nose, trying to force a tiny laugh.
“Then why come here to hide?” He asks.
When the answer you give is another shrug (I don’t know…) he sighs. Standing and returning with a hot cup of beverage. A kettle had either been set before he stepped out to greet you, or one was constantly kept a little warm. Either way it was somewhere between tea and coffee, but definitely not both.
“What did you do?” he asks.
It took some time to tell the entire story. Skipping too many details about the fear and anger that all came at you at once. Erik has heard it all before in much worse amounts. Only admitting that you were wanted, so many were hurt or completely destroyed by a lapse of control.
He doesn’t interrupt or ask any other questions. He just listens and keeps an ear out for helicopters.
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Raven/ Mystique:
At some point you were taken to the hospital with the other survivors. The journey was hard to remember; being placed on a bed and tossed around in the back of an ambulance. Pretending to be just as out of it as the others, really just avoiding eye contact with the paramedics.
It’s nice to think that you had a plan for when you got to the hospital, and you kinda did. With all the people coming in at once there was the chance you’d be left in the hallway or an open area to wait for a bed. In the event of that happening you could just roll over and walk out. Just walk with confidence and make it out the door.
That you were now restrained in a bed in your own room meant that plan was out the window. Laying back and letting the nurses check you out with shaking hands. Just enough to check you over but not enough to pretend to be doing their job.
“It’s fine,” The nurse says, practically slamming the room door shut behind him. It wasn’t a thick door; you could still hear through it. “Please don’t make me go near it again.” He says to someone in the hallway, probably a doctor or some other superior.
It isn’t until their talking has mostly stopped that you bother trying to escape. Your restraints were soft but also tight, something that you couldn’t slide out of easily. Rocking the bed, trying to tip it over, would just leave you dangling off the side. Still strapped in but with bruises and staring at the floor.
While thinking of another dashing escape plan the door opens again. A nurse steps and gently closes the door behind her. This one was a woman nurse, so far you’ve only been dealing with males. It was likely because of the threat you posed that it had only been men. Specifically, the biggest nurses and orderlies that were available.
Because of this you watch the woman as she walks over. She was a small woman with brown hair in a bob cut, the white uniform and a smile she held while pulling the curtain around. You were smart enough not to say anything until she did. Or until she shifts entirely from white uniform into blue skin, immediately pulling at your restraints.
“Hey, Hi. Babe, I’m sorry…” You have a million things to say at once.
All the words fighting to be the first to be said. All ignored by your girl, who just places a gentle hand over your mouth and whispers a shhh. Going back to the restraints and whispering:
“Don’t say anything,” She says, opening the first and reaching over to get the next. “Let’s just get out of here.”
You quickly pulled the faded green scrubs over your clothes. Raven placing a surgical hat on your head and mask over your face was the best she could do. Raven quickly becoming the bobbed hair nurse again. She nods at you, as if to say, “everything will be fine.”
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Peter Maximoff:
So much energy coming out at once has to take it out form somewhere. What was a splitting headache a second ago became a massive weight. One that dragged you down from the standing position and towards the floor. Only to be caught by arms that were not there a second ago.
It wasn’t that Peter was “harboring a fugitive,” or was “obstructing justice” he was just helping out his girlfriend. Something that he has argued about with several people.
“I don’t believe this was done on purpose, Ser.” Professor Xavier says into the phone, staring at Peter as he did. “No, she still has yet to reach out to us. To any of us. The moment she does we will tell you.”
Peter makes a face and shrugs when the phone is hung up. “I don’t see why they need her. It’s was an accident, she said sorry, I don’t see what else there is.”
Professor Xavier doesn’t seem to bother asking where you are. Peter wouldn’t tell him, and he could easily find you with cerebro.
“Is she safe?” He asks, wanting whatever truth Peter was willing to give.
“I mean, I don’t know where she is, but she safe. I think, yeah, she’s safe.” He says. Smart enough to help you vanish but not enough to know better then to lie to a telepath.
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Hank McCoy:
Like a little kid you’ve chosen the staircase banister to hide behind. Either hand holding onto a separate bar, looking out between them. Your spot was strategically placed far enough away from the door that they wouldn’t see your details through the banister. As far as they were concerned you were just a curious kid. A very big curious kid.
“They” were the people Hank was currently handling at the door. It had been only two days since the incident and it’s amazing it took them this long to reach your door. Three men in suits and a woman in a white coat knocked at your door just after lunch.
Sending the students from the hall Hank took control of the situation. Never outright telling you to leave the main hall but did make a similar “shoo” gesture that he gave the kids while telling them to make their exit.
Although the distance gave you an advantage it also kept you from hearing what was being said. The men on the other side weren’t giving enough body language to tell if they were upset or not. Only one seemed to be talking, the others were moving side to side on their feet. If Hank were to move too far to one side or the other they’d try and make their way inside.
“They don’t have a right to take you, not legally or in anyway.” Hank had reassured you hours earlier.
It started to get tense on the other side of the room. One of the men giving up on waiting for an opening and trying to make one himself.
Hank’s change can happen slow or it can happen so fast you don’t even realize it. The friendly approach of a regular human at the door was abandoned the moment they showed aggression. Blue arms and baring teeth made all three jump, reaching for their hips. The woman in white, the seeming bravest of the group, steps forward. A hand reached out, but the door is slammed in her face.
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Jean Gray:
Life is confusing and everyone is screaming.
At first their screams were sympathetic; they were screams of fear and pain. But after hearing them non-stop for several minutes it’s hard to feel bad. It was almost like they were doing it on purpose. Like, if they just shut up for one second you could figure what was happening.
They didn’t, though, they wouldn’t shut up. Distracting you from the indestructible bubbles creating and growing in the walls, machines and skin. Expanding and tearing everything apart.
There’s two other voices among the screaming that stands out: the first is the loudest. It’s the purest form of anger and fear that could ever be made. It was also the most annoying, if that one person would just shut-the-fuck-up you could probably think. The other voice is the only one not screaming. It wasn’t sweet or kind like it was before, it was harsh and stern. Power behind the voice making it louder then a scream ever could be.  
It was pretty obvious whose voice was yours and who’s belonged to Jean.
Jean’s voice was like that. It was powerful, it was a strict father’s and a commanding mother’s combined. If she wanted to, she could make it impossible to escape her voice. She uses this power of voice now: Where your ears can’t take any information, but your mind was burst open and unprotected.
You never understood what she was saying completely. Only that it was nice, and that it made everything go black.
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Logan/ Wolverine:
More than half the population of earth is smarter than Logan. He’s more than willing to admit that, but what he did know was not to poke an already agitated bear. That’s all you were in that moment. A very pissed off bear sitting in the corner of a glass square.
It honestly wouldn’t have been that bad if Peter hadn’t compared it to the cages Magneto had been in. That was when everything seemed to become real for you.
This was only way that there wouldn’t be an absolute hunt for mutants. Your containment in exchange for a lie told by the Secretary of Defense to the entire world. That, no, there was not “mutant attack”, this was an unexplained, isolated incident. One that was now being held in the basement of a government building until your fate is decided.
“Are you allowed to smoke in here?” You ask, picking at the bottom of your white scrubs.
“I didn’t see the signs.” He says, waiting for someone to dare and yell at him about the cigar.
Instead of asking for the cigar verbally you raise a hand towards one of the small breathing holes. He slides it towards you, butt first. Only giving a little direction on how to puff the thing instead of straight up inhale it.
Smoking anything while stressed was a good way to start a bad habit. Something Logan tried to keep you from. Given the situation, he allowed the nicotine high you were gonna get from working on the thing. It was another test for this place. A test to see just how long or how many little rules he could break before someone yelled at him.
Not that he would ever use this knowledge for selfish means. It was just good to know when things would start to go south. Not that the Professor gave him permission, he just didn’t tell him not to.
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Kurt Wagner:
Any pictures or footage taken of you during the incident were stolen straight from hell. That was the only aspect anyone cared about; the ones where you were wild and there was nothing in your eyes except for uncontrolled power.
No one thought about the few seconds after the incident. That instead of power there was confusion and fear. Staring at your hands and into the world looking for answers.
That scene only lasted a few seconds. Long enough for the blue devil to match your hell appear and disappear with you.
Like a child you went to bed without dinner. Although it was by choice, and this wasn’t your bed. It was a hiding place in the same building that your seekers were searching. But with a protective layer of blankets, and an extra layer of your boy sitting in front of the door, you could enjoy these last few minutes before your life goes to hell.
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gamblepetclinic · 6 years
Text
Cold Laser Therapy
I’m a pet parent, just like the rest of you—and just like you, I love gushing about my pets. Let me introduce you to one of my cats, Leopald Xavier (or Leo for short).
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              He is a 2-year-old cat that was born missing the bottom part of his left back leg. We were hoping that he would learn to walk in a way that would protect his back leg from injury. In true cat fashion, this wasn’t the case. He would use his rear leg as a crutch, causing repeated injury and open wounds that weren’t allowed to heal. To prevent any long-term trauma, we decided to do a full amputation on his back leg. Once he was healed, we took him to a few rounds of physical therapy, where they showed us strengthening and balancing exercises we could do at home. They also did some acupuncture and laser therapy. What is laser therapy? Good question!
               Laser stands for ‘light amplification by stimulated emission of radiation’. In our case, it is a hand-held device that gives off photons of light energy. In veterinary medicine, you may hear it called therapeutic, cold laser, or low-level laser. Laser therapy works by focusing a beam of light on the painful areas. The cells absorb the light which stimulates an increase in activity. This in turn improves circulation and reduces inflammation. It also aids in the release of endorphins and reduces nerve sensitivity. While it can help in chronic pain, it can also help open wounds, broken bones, and other injuries heal faster. The wavelength of light determines the depth it reached into the issues. Surface wounds and joint injuries would be treated with shorter wavelengths while muscle injuries would be treated with longer wavelengths.
               The benefits of laser therapy can help both chronic and acute pain by stimulating circulation, immune system, and reducing inflammation. It has also been shown to enhance collagen and muscle tissue development which enhances healing. The laser shouldn’t be done over a pregnant uterus, over tumors, over growth plates, or over the thyroid gland.
               But I digress—back to this CUTE face!
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Yes, he is always in bowties.
                Since Leo was never actually ‘normal’, he had a spunky attitude from the very beginning. I just chalked it up to his regular personality. He was, of course, more sensitive when his back was touched but he would also hiss, swat, and run away if he was approached by any other my other pets in the house. Due to this, we started him on Gabapentin. This worked to help with any suspected pain we thought he had but to also help relax him at home. Luckily for me, Dr. Sneva had also just become certified in veterinary acupuncture and offered to try acupuncture on Leo. Well, with him being the way he is, he wouldn’t tolerate the needles or stay still long enough for the few needles we did get into him, to stay for any length of time. We did acupuncture when he would let us, but it wasn’t ever consistent enough to make a notable difference. Fast forward about a year. Gamble Pet Clinic got their very own cold laser to use. Since the laser only needs to be used for a few minutes per session and doesn’t need consistent contact, we figured it would be a great option for Leo. He is SO food motivated, so he would just eat while we did the laser treatment for about 10 minutes at a time. We started out with his treatments twice a week for 4 weeks. We then went to once a week for 4 weeks and then slowly started spacing them out. After just the first 2-3 treatments, I could see a noticeable difference in many aspects of his life. He was moving around and jumping better but he also enjoyed being pet and held. With each treatment, he continued to improve, and we are now at the point where we do ‘tune ups’ when needed.
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As you can tell, he is very stressed now.
               He will always walk with a limp and abnormal gait, regardless of his pain control, but he is a completely different cat. He went from barely able to jump on the couch to jumping straight up to a window ledge, 4-5 feet off the ground and standing(!) while at rest. While I did, and still do, feel like a bad pet parent for not noticing the amount of chronic pain little man was carrying around, I do think that it is a common issue that a lot of people run into. We get so used to seeing our pet a certain way every day, that we don’t realize the small changes that are happening until those small changes add up to big changes. Once we address those issues, it becomes much more apparent of what was going on.
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He stands!
               At Gamble Pet Clinic, we have cold laser therapy that is an option for multiple different issues your pet may have—including post-surgery/ dental treatments, arthritis/muscle pain, wounds, and other issues such as ear infections. We are very excited to have this as an option to offer you and your pets and love talking about it! Please don’t hesitate to ask if you have any questions about how it could be beneficial for your pet!             
                                                                                            --Emily and Leopald
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