sorenxsong-blog - Tumblr blog

[sorenxsong-blog]

wolfesque:

“Same, maybe a subtle lil text,” Carter jokes dryly, though his laugh comes out more like a sigh than anything. It was odd, sad, seeing Soren so restless and without the beaming smile he normally wore. Yet there was something about the way Soren held himself that made him ponder: is this not the first time his friend has been at loss?

“On a rational stand point it doesn’t matter, yes. But I –” A shaky sigh escapes gritted teeth as Carter fervently shakes his head, eyes closed. “Some of you really aren’t worth them being afraid of. What has Mina done to cause such fear, what have you done?” His eyes were burning akin to the flames, demanding an answer though he didn’t know from who. Soren? The Augury? The universe?

Carter was already impulsive, under his emotion’s command rather than that of his mind. But a combination of the burning metal and emptied bottles only made it worse. “You’re such a weirdly calm drunk, man,” he noted absentmindedly, cue a curled corner of his mouth as his gaze lands on the near-empty bottle.

“Yeah - well - with Logan’s assistance you mean. Chances are I’ll fuck things up if I go at it alone. I’ll only be living up to my reputation as the reckless cop.” A sardonic laugh accompanies his comment before he swallows down the remnants of their shared drink. The glass bottle is slammed down a little too hard against the pavement, creating a grating noise that wasn’t far off from his laugh. “But karmic retribution? You can bet I’ll help with that.”

soren smiles at carter’s follow up to his sad joke, though the other man’s laugh is a sigh and his own smile is ghost and soren just shakes his head to himself, the lingering bitterness of the alcohol still laced on his lips, every attempt at happiness now just a little bit acidic.

(what have you done and the answer is nothing, that small voice says, i’ve done nothing, nothing, nothing and i don’t deserve any of this; i have done nothing and i am innocent and soren tries to hold on to that thought with fumbling hands)

“everyone’s afraid of something.” soren shrugs. “maybe a little irrationally. isn’t there something you’d do... something preemptive to keep whatever you’re afraid of from happening if you could?” 

(he would. he fantasizes about hands around throats and red red red too often to pretend otherwise)

soren chuckles dryly at carter’s comment, closing his eyes for a moment before responding. “you didn’t see me earlier tonight - when the party’s all gone but the drinks are still there, this is all that’s left.” he smiles wanly. “no more cameras rolling, right?” 

“sometimes you need a little reckless.” soren shrugs. “someone’s gotta make the first move that everyone’s too afraid to make. sometimes that’s stupid, but sometimes that’s brave.” he nudges carter lightly, faint smile on his lips though it’s still missing from his eyes. 

“i knew i’d be able to count on you for that - there’s no one else i know that could do karmic retribution better.” 

(he’s only teasing, of course, but a part of soren knows he’s not wrong either)

[sorenxsong-blog]

ofchvrming:

“And I’m sure you only smell like vodka because you’re definitely not drunk,” Ro teases, lips tugging in the corners despite himself. Soren is a petulant drunk, he realizes, but it doesn’t annoy him - it’s never annoyed him, not with Soren. The smile goes away just as quickly at the words that follow.

I’m okay all the time anyway, right?

Usually, he would have done the polite thing and nodded and smiled, but it’s too late and he’s already a drink in. So instead, he quirks an eyebrow like he doesn’t believe Soren - and he doesn’t - because if he was really okay, he wouldn’t be sitting in front of him here, like this, mourning the loss of his already broken-down car. It’s still not enough time to linger on that until the next bomb hits him, with the late realization that Soren’s arm is wrapped around him.

Eric deserved it.

It almost makes him look away and want to pull back, how easily that slips out of Soren’s mouth. I know. He thinks to himself, and it pricks at his skin. I know, I know, I know. Soren smiles up at him, and Roland wonders if he really knows about the terrible things Eric’s done - the stealing, the lying, hurting people without remorse, hurting everyone around him. It’s bitter, thinking about how they’d say the exact same thing about if he dies. When he dies, despite what Soren says.

“Your car was…something,” he nods, slowly reaching out for his own glass and trying to hide his surprise at how quickly Soren takes his own. “For Betty,” and at least now he’s a little less sad - Betty’s memory will live on, between the two of them. So he drinks and clears his throat at the taste, opening his eyes and looking over at Soren carefully. He only speaks after a few moments of organizing his thoughts in his head, though it doesn’t help much.

“You…what about you? Your car, I mean. I thought you’d be driving something…” better -“…bigger. Your apartment, too, it’s just, um, a little unexpected. I guess I haven’t exactly worked with your dad in years, now, but I always figured you were off in Europe, studying, or something.” It comes out, in moments like this. On a normal day, Roland Park is the poster child for restrained composure, never speaking more than necessary, and only on topics he know he’ll have the upper hand in. But around Soren, he finds himself rambling, beating around the bush when all he really wants to ask is –

“ – what happened, Soren?”

what happened soren and even with an inebriated mind he still knows that's what roland means, what roland's been meaning to say and he’s stumbling, stumbling; what happened soren and he doesn’t know where to begin - the photograph and the fractured fingers? the stained sheets? the blinking of the red that flashes like a warning sign in his head over and over and over - ?

(there is no graceful way to tell this kind of story, no way to make red on white and children’s screams and blurred tears beautiful, no poetry to hide the blood behind his teeth anymore)

“no, not europe. columbia, actually. i got four years of a scholarship there, did you know? worked for it all by myself.” he smiles faintly. “daddy dearest didn’t even come to the convocation.” he takes a long drink out of glass in front of him before starting again. “i think i would’ve liked luxembourg though - is that where all the rich kids go? luxembourg? always wanted to learn french, y’know. voulez-vous coucher avec moi and all that shit. though i suppose that’s the only line i ever needed anyways.” he snorts derisively, more of a laugh at himself than anything. 

(stop avoiding the question, he tells himself. stop avoiding what happened)

he takes another gulp of his drink, feels the alcohol burn but it’s not enough, no, it’s never been enough - but roland’s looking at him with something akin to concern in his eyes and soren needs another drink to fool himself into thinking that it could be real. 

“my dad?” he slurs. soren tries to recall the memory of him, looking not too far off from him in his graduating picture, just hanging a couple frames away from his own at the same university; looking not too far off from roland with his pressed suit and immaculate poise, signing soren off to his mother and oh, would he have done it still if he had known - ? 

(probably)

“ - left me at the same time he left my mother.” the words are fighting to escape his throat, fighting for some sort of release. “didn’t want much to do with us after that, you know, divorce doesn’ look too good for the ceo of a company like that. bad press and all.” soren nurses the empty glass in his hands, frowning at the bottom of the cup. “gave us some compensation, f’course, but... not enough for europe.” 

“it’s okay though.” he smiles at that as he turns to roland again, head cocked to the side, eyes crinkled closed - he’s practiced it so well, this boyish smile, ever-so endearing, ever-so disarming and soren knows it’s the picture of childish joy and he knows it works. 

“m’happy here anyways.” he sounds so convincing he might almost believe his own lies. “‘sides, it got me here, didn’t it? i wouldn’t be here sharing drinks with you if i was in europe, right?” he bumps his shoulder against roland’s clumsily. “what would you do without me then?” 

[sorenxsong-blog]

soren ahn x aesthetics → before.

he tells himself he doesn’t remember much of that night, but he’s always been an impeccable liar since kindergarten; falling out of trees and being pulled out of the sheets –

(he should’ve learned how to fly when he had the chance)

[sorenxsong-blog]

emmeleung:

The brightness of her face grows with his without thought. The kind of subtle shift that happens in front of stranger and close friends alike, to want to give more than she can recieve, to want to come alive with another.

She encourages Soren and all his flight sometimes without meaning to because she too latches onto the energy he brings with him, contagious. From their talk of life as a stray, from crashing so many parties not meant for them, as if pretending to wear masks, it might believed Emme would want to change her status, to live as a woodlander. And that’s not right either.

Dreams don’t live in wealth. She just wants enough to live comfortably, to afford therapy, to pay for a friend’s meal every now and again, to not have to worry, to travel if she wanted. Not the pretentiousness, not the stiff features that laugh only when it’s the right cue. She’d rather be full of poetry, than whatever a certain kind of wealth can feed into another. Both her and Soren walk to far into the clouds to think of things such as reputations. All her life, she’s had enough of an opinion of her stuffed down her throat, any one else’s thoughts on how she behaves, how she looks, isn’t anything she wants or cares for, no matter if it’s woodlander’s idea of her.

“I can’t say that we’ll be put on wanted posters for taking some leftovers, but if we do, do you think I’ll somehow get to be the one that draws them,” she laughs with him, “Need to make them flattering, at the least.”

She waits a moment before continuing, her feet restless, “Okay, so apocalypse-boy requests pasta and ramen? The lady may be making the last of the waffles now.”

FINISHED 

[sorenxsong-blog]

calebdier:

all he wanted was peace in his remote corner of the club for the night, perfectly fine with simply observing the drunken antics of other patrons as he drowned out his stresses.

what he got was soren instead, the complete and utter opposite of his idea of serenity.

one moment, he’s sitting alone. the next, the boy is pulling him away from his cozy spot and shoving a drink in his hand with a truly mischievous smile on his features that almost makes caleb regret coming to triton’s in the first place.

god knows he’s going to need the drink with whatever he’s got up his sleeve, so caleb attempts to down it before soren actually asks what he’s come here to ask.

which turned out to be a bad idea as he nearly chokes on the liquor as he finally popped the question, finding the idea of either to be the very last thing he ever wants to do. “no, no, no. i don’t sing or dance, i’m only here to drink and then go home.” he shouts, rather unconvincingly and knowing full well that soren isn’t going to take no for answer anyways. “and you’re going to put it on youtube, so that’s even more of a no!”

soren pouts, almost comedically so, words slurring around his frown as he tugs at caleb’s arm petulantly. “but caleb - “ he bats wide eyes at the older man, eyebrows furrowed in distress “ - i didn’t get all dressed up just for you to reject me. i even invested in the ears!” soren points at the soft tufts of black fur perched on his head. “please?” 

(he’s whining, he knows. a part of him doesn’t want the other man to be alone at an event like this - even though soren knows for a fact that that’s what caleb prefers - and maybe a bigger part of him just knows that he doesn’t want to be alone tonight)

“anyone can sing and dance, caleb. you have a voice, you have two legs - c’mon - “ soren grabs an arm and begins tugging him through the crowd towards the karaoke stage, stumbling only a little. “i left my camera at home tonight anyways, so the most that’s gonna happen is maybe a snapchat video. or three.” 

“besides, don’t you think you deserve to have a little fun tonight?”

[sorenxsong-blog]

[sorenxsong-blog]

ofchvrming:

He’s learned a long time ago that it’s not smart to get so attached to things. Things, ideas, people, because none of it means anything in the end. Still, it’s hard to deny the creeping sense of absolute devastation that comes with watching his most prized possession burn up in flames, into scrap metal and ash. At least Buzz and Woody are still alive, he thinks uselessly, though with his luck as of late, it wouldn’t be that surprising to go home and find both of his birds dead and lifeless at the bottom of their cage.

So against his better judgement, Roland steps into Triton’s, still on high alert though he lets out a breath at a familiar face at the bar. He sits, and lifts his hand up to call the bartender over when a shot of…something is slid over to him.

Are you sure you can afford to buy me drinks - is on the tip of his tongue before he chooses to be polite instead and take the drink, knocking it back and immediately cringing afterwards at the bitter taste on his tongue. “You’re already drunk,” Ro says, turning towards Soren, staring at his tipsy smile for a little too long, “are you going to be okay?”

It’s embarrassing how protective he gets over the younger man, and he’s sure there’s some complicated, psychological reason as to why. But it’s not enough to stop him from sliding his card to the bartender and telling him that all the drinks from this point will go on that card, because he’s not about to take any more free drinks from someone who lives in an apartment the size of his second guest room.

“I don’t know how you’re still smiling. I’m pretty sure I’m going to die before I’m thirty-four,” he mutters, silently wondering if somehow, Eric knew they were coming for him. He wonders if it hurt, unsure if he would’ve wanted it to hurt Eric or not. The fact that he’s still thinking about him is laughable.

“ - I’m sorry about your car.” Ro adds, a moment later, his words surprisingly genuine. “I don’t really remember what it looked like but I’m sure it was…nice.”

he’s accumulated one too many bad habits over the year, soren knows. calls it an outlet, calls it an escape; lines and liquids and smoke of all kinds and bruises on inner thighs and he tells himself it’s because he needs to forget, tells himself he’s looking for something that feels worse than waking up with this dirty, dirty skin -

(he quit every bad habit he had the moment he picked up the camera again, told himself fable city was going to be a clean slate for him but god, it’s been a long night and the itching of escape is crawling under his skin)

“i am not drunk.” he huffs at the older man, lips creased in an almost comical pout. “and even if i was - “ head cocked to the side, grinning, “ - i’m okay all the time anyways, right?”

the question isn’t as rhetorical as it is leading, though the drinks on his tongue makes his voice sound a touch too uncertain for his taste. 

“oh, hush. you aren’t gonna die, not if i can help it.’ soren proclaims, loose arm swung around the man, probably overstepping it but he’s about two shots too far from caring anymore. “‘sides, eric deserved it. you - “ head on his shoulder, eyes crinkled in a smile as he looks up at roland, “ - you’re good. promise. pinky promise.” 

soren almost flings himself back to the counter at the sight of the next drink presented in front of him, clapping excitedly. “hm? my car? it’s okay ro, you can tell me it was metallic crap on wheels.” soren finishes the drink in memoriam of it, finds it easier to swallow than the consequences of what a message like that means to them. 

“but betty - “ he frowns, remembers how the car shined, remembers how the name comes from someplace simple and how that small innocence was robbed, burnt to ashes. “ - she was beautiful. really, i’m sorry - i... she meant something to you and it shouldn’t have been taken away from you like that.” 

he calls out to the bartender, hoping he understands the slur of his words before turning back to roland. “we should do another round. for betty.” 

[sorenxsong-blog]

miinahan:

Her lower lip trembles and she rests her elbows on her knees, pressing her hands together and then to her lips to keep herself from actually crying. She’s pressing her fingers hard enough against her lips to hurt, but it makes her focus on that and she’s glad about it. She focuses on that, and trying not to cry, for a moment, before she’s looking up at Soren.

“No… you’re right. They’re far from considerate.” She’s glancing back around, and then sighing. “I know you’re right. On everything. But I still can’t help but to be sad…” She’s pressing her fingertips back to her lips again, looking down at the ground. She hates the fact that she’s been sad for so long. Hates the fact that she doesn’t see an end to being sad in sight. It just makes her want to crawl into her bed and never leave. She hates everything and she hates what she’s feeling and it makes her want to scream and cry.

“Everything sucks, Soren…”

he wishes he could promise her something like it’ll be okay, wishes he could weave truth into that belief that she’s always held - it’ll be okay and he knows mina always wanted to believe in that, even when eric was alive; it’ll be okay and he wishes it was true then, wishes it was true now. 

but he’s lied to her enough so he doesn’t say anything.

soren sits down next to her, hands hovering, touch hesitant before wrapping an arm around her curled form, pulling her close and ruffling her hair lightly, smile more sad than anything. 

“i know. it’s - everything’s kind of horrible now, i know.” he says, quiet in comparison to the wailing sirens behind them. “and you should be sad. you deserve to allow yourself to be sad about it - your car, and... eric.” his voice hitches. he pretends it didn’t happen. 

(he pretends none of it happened, but - ) 

“do you wanna grab some snacks? head home? or stay here - we don’t have to go anywhere or say anything if you don’t want to.” 

[sorenxsong-blog]

lettymonroe:

She might have laughed at the comment if not for the tone that accompanies it. It’s almost like something she would say, a way to stave off the pity and blame that is sure to come when the shock and awe dies off. Instead, Letty shrugs, a gesture that might mean she doesn’t care or could instead mean she isn’t sure. “Maybe,” she replies, unhelpful as ever.

Perhaps she should ask if he’s alright, but she’s never been that type. Others could play the role of a concerned bystander while she was more content to watch things burn. Cynical, but safe. “At least you weren’t in the car,” she offers seconds later. “Could have been worse.” Could have been worse, but sure as hell could have been better. It did not escape her who was outside watching burning cars.

“Hope you have insurance,” Letty adds in foolish attempt to lighten the mood. She offers a smile in return, though it’s more taunting than anything. She knows she should be a bit nicer considering the circumstances; if this was her in this position, she likely would have an assault charge to go along with losing a car. “Sorry, I guess?”

the girl is admittedly, not the best source of comfort that soren would’ve sought out - but he hears the pauses in between her words, the slight unease that comes with it and he knows she’s trying and she hasn’t walked away just yet. 

(and maybe he just needs it anyways, a reminder that there could be worse, that he’s been through worse, stop fucking crying and he needs to stop letting people pat him on the head with something akin to pity with every touch)

“i guess.” he sighs, the ghost of a smile on the corner of his lips. “it was an old car anyways. probably would’ve gone up in flames by itself sooner or later.” he turns back to the now-smoking metal before him, the fire slowly dying out. “i guess the augury just decided sooner was a better option.” 

soren turns to her properly, eyes taking a moment to focus in on the figure. he smiles a little, tries to lighten the heavy mood that seemed to come with the heavy smoke pressing down on them. “i do, but i doubt this’ll cover it... i mean, it’s okay. it’s not like you were the one who did it.” he raises an eyebrow, teasing. “i hope.”

[sorenxsong-blog]

✉ @ ♀

send “✉” for a text that WASN’T SENT.

[11:29pm] you scared me that day, you know?[11:30pm] when you came up to me in the back of the bar and said you recognized me [12:09am] that’s what eric did [12:10am] and i just thought with the two of you working together and… [12:20am] anyways, i’m sorry [12:22am] thank you for not asking about what happened

send “@” for a SCARED text.

[4:00am] they’re gonna find it roland carter and logan are gonna see it they’re gonna do the search next week and they’re gonna find it right fucking there on his fucking desktop [4:02am] i tried to delete it but i couldn’t it’s fucking encrypted with a lock and every time i tried it just played the fucking video [4:20am] he still has a picture of him and mina on his desk and it’s just staring at me and the fucking video won’t stop playing i can’t get rid of it roland i can’t [4:24am] they’re gonna know i was there and trace it to me and they’re gonna see the fucking video they’re gonna know about everything and question me roland[4:25am] i didn’t do it roland i didn’t i just want it gone i just wanted him gone 

send “♀” for a HEARTBREAKING text.

[7:04pm] i’m sorry i didn’t come to the funeral today[7:05pm] i know i said i would but[7:07pm] seeing eric dead wasn’t worth seeing you mourning him 

[sorenxsong-blog]

time: 9:30pm location: triton’s availability: closed for @calebdier

he can work with this, he thinks. 

money that should’ve gone towards his rent now spent on drinks that was currently buzzing in his bloodstream, unfocused eyes lined black underneath the dark lights of the restaurant and singing too loud, notes too high, mind too high and he can work with this. 

soren just needs a distraction, if only for a night. 

and his hazy mind knows that he’s not the only one, blurred faces of neighbours and friends too goddamn tense as of late and he’s just here for a good time, they’re here and they should have a good time too. 

he pulls the first familiar face he sees from the crowd - muscular arms and broad frame - caleb, perfect - and he pushes the drink in his hands into the other’s, smiling perhaps a little too wide, a little too impish to mean anything good. 

“dance with me! or sing with me - i’ll let you choose. but you only have ten seconds to decide or else we’re gonna do both, yeah?” soren crows overexcitedly, voice loud so the other man could hear him above the blasting music. “i’m thinking single ladies if i had the choice. i know that’s your best practiced set.” 

[sorenxsong-blog]

time: 5:37pm location: the hospital availability: closed for @ofcinderellas​

he grimaces as he takes a seat in the waiting area, the now-damp cloth still pressed up to the side of his throbbing forehead, a constant reminder of his own stupidity.

(soren has a lot of those but this is one of the few that hurts) 

and really, he shouldn’t have expected anything different - in hindsight, juggling five beer bottles after consuming the contents of said beer bottles without experience juggling may not have been as great of an idea as he had originally thought, but in his defense - 

well, he doesn’t really have one, but at least he got it on camera, he thinks. it’ll be a good laugh for someone having a rough day when he uploads it, though the bloodied glass shards he had to pull out of his eyebrow aren’t quite as funny. 

sighing, soren slumps in his seat until he hears his name being called, jumping up and immediately regretting the action afterwards when his head screams in protest. he stumbles, grimacing, stopping completely when he opens his eyes wide enough to see the familiar face. 

“blue!” he exclaims. bad idea. he’d make a mental note if his brain wasn’t hurting so much. “do you think you could take a look at - “ he gestures the mess of his bloodied eyebrow. “ - yeah. my file here just keeps on getting bigger, doesn’t it? oh, which speaking of my hospital file, i think my blood type might’ve changed again. you guys might need to update that, maybe.” 

[sorenxsong-blog]

“Jimin is so happy he disappeared again”

[sorenxsong-blog]

✆ ø $

send “✆” for a MORNING text.

[8:03am] morning neighbour!!![8:04am] the landlord was asking for you again [8:04am] so i just started yelling because i didn’t know what to do but it was a pretty good diversion because he stopped trying to ask after two minutes[8:05am] just letting you know!![8:06am] also sorry if i woke you up lol 

send “ø” for a LATE NIGHT text.

[2:01am] i’m so sorry!! i honestly thought that was my window not yours[2:02am] i must’ve miscounted the windows from the left instead of the right again [2:03am] i didn’t mean to scare you into thinking it was a break in [2:05am] i’ll try to remember my keys next time so i don’t have to climb through the windows [2:05am] again[2:06am] i’m sorry!!

send “$” for an ACCIDENTAL text.

[7:01pm] and that’s why the landing on the moon was all just a hoax !!!!![7:02pm] oh shit[7:02pm] wrong person my bad[7:03pm] but do you wanna hear about how the landing on the moon was all just a hoax???

[sorenxsong-blog]

⁇ ø % ツ

send “⁇” for a DRUNK text.

[1:19am] lOGAN [1:19am] i lbVE YOU SY MFHYE[1:20am] EPCALLY FR NROT CHEKGNG MY FHOES DUIGB BDOY CHECKS[1:21am] THTWRE LAMOST LEGAL FNYWAYS [1:45am] OGM I JUST REALIZF YR A CCOP[2:00am] PFLS FONT ARREST ME THOERU IM TOOO PTETTY FOR JAIL 

send “ø” for a LATE NIGHT text.

[3:10am] so like, when you arrest someone and they get their one call[3:11am] what happens if they can’t remember the number off the top of their head like[3:12am] the only number i know for sure is pizza pizza and i’m scared 

send “%” for a CURIOUS text.

[5:00pm] ok but what kind of pepper does pepper spray taste like [5:01pm] chilli peppers? bell peppers? jalapeno? [5:02pm] can i try one day it won’t hurt as long as it doesn’t get in my eyes right  

send “ツ” for an EXCITED text.

[8:00pm] I JUST SAW YOU ON THE NEWS[8:01pm] DOING THAT BUST[8:02pm] YOU’RE SO COOL !!!!!!!!!![8:03pm] I CAN’T WAIT FOR THE 8 NEWS TO RE-AIR AT 2AM I’M GONNA STAY UP TO WATCH IT AGAIN!!! 

[sorenxsong-blog]

✉☎%

send “✉” for a text that WASN’T SENT.

[4:19am] do you have nightmares too? [4:20am] after it happened [5:01am] sometimes i thought i heard you from your bedroom, you know how the walls are here[5:13am] i couldn’t sleep either[5:15am] your smile wasn’t really a smile the next day and i didn’t ask why[6:00am] i should’ve

send “☎” for a RUSHED text.

[7:09am] DONUT SHOP PRODUCT TESTERS[7:09am] FREE[7:10am] THEYRE TRYING NEW FLAVOURS[7:10am] COME NOW I’LL SAVE YOU A GARLIC PISTACHIO ONE 

send “%” for a CURIOUS text.

[9:10pm] what would happen if someone was to, hypothetically, glue gun their hand to their cheek[9:11pm] like how much glue would you need[9:15pm] and how big would the glue gun have to be[9:15pm] hypothetically[9:16pm] of course[9:16pm] i’m asking for a friend 

[sorenxsong-blog]

⁇ ✉ ( combined or separately? up to you! )

send “⁇” for a DRUNK text.

[2:01am] i wjsh ihaf hair as shiny anf soft as ypurs???[2:07am] its si beaytufyhj [2:10am] i wabt to cey bc of it??? wgat shampoo????[2:17am] if i haf hair like yprus theb mofe pekplw woufd pat my heaf [2:30am] i wbnt hesd pats ;( 

send “✉” for a text that WASN’T SENT.

[3:56am] i wish i could’ve gone to you when eric was still alive[3:58am] when he [5:04am] i like to think that you would’ve done something. anything. [6:27am] then again, i’m not sure you could’ve.