#bad oc writing ig

[eeveestarstudios-blog]

Tell me EVERYTHING about ALL your ocs

Oh GOD we'd be here for like 5 days because I counted and I have like...40?? I'll tell you about the main 5 and if you have any questions then you can ask about a specific thing. They all own Pokémon btw!! Also they are star protectors of a specific element, but that's for another post. I'm not gonna say LITERALLY everything but if you have questions please ask! This will be about the 5 main ocs and a very brief description about them! Next will be their teams!

Eevee: Eevee is kinda like my sona despite being almost nothing like me irl! She's a 13 year old who lives and was born in unova! She's probably the most unserious, and she often seems like she is less phased by things, but it's really just a mask over her fear of being rejected over her gender identity and depression. She wants to focus on her art and one day move to artazon, paldea. She's the dark star protector (NO THATS NOT EVIL. CORRUPTION IS THE EVIL ONE!!)

Toast: Toast is the youngest one in the group at 12 years old! She came with her dad from Paldea to expand their little bakery business (it's a family business!) She is usually extremely timid and shy, but her cute little bread face somehow attracts attention! (I'd be attracted to her lil bread face too 🥺) Another notable thing about Toast is that she has the extremely rare ability to see ghosts (despite being extremely terrified by ghosts...) poor Toast is constantly being attracted by all things she is afraid of, whether it's a ghost or a corrupt, and unfortunately, nobody belives her. She's the fire star protector.

Nessie: Nessie is a 14 year old escaped experiment from a lab in Hoenn. Not much is known about them, because they prefer not to be seen in front of any media that will cause the same people who captured them long ago when they wasn't a stitched up abomination. They are on the run, but seeing the abundance of anomalies just like them caused them to settle down for a while. Excitable, curious, yet quite the overthinker, Nessie was a surprisingly great friend and addition to Eevee's group! She's the water star protector!

Prism: Prism is 15 and lives in Kanto, but she likes to go to Unova via uploading her consciousness to her body that is stationed there. She's Eevee's biggest rival, and one of the reasons is that she's an ai (sort of. It's kinda like the vocaloids ig??) She is often found singing her favorite songs, or questioning her existence. She's very serious sometimes, which kinda makes her cringe at Eevee's unusually unserious nature. Being overwhelmingly blunt and even bullying Eevee sometimes has caused her to feel lonely and misunderstood, but when she's performing, it seems like all that worry and anger disappear into nothing. She's the light star protector!

K.K: (that's not his real name) K.K is a 15 year old who was also born and raised in Unova! After a horrible accident, he was sent to live at an orphanage with his little sister. Unable to obtain a therapist, he started a band with Prism and some of the other children in the orphanage to let out his sadness and loss into his unnaturally upbeat music (think of like kikuo songs ig) He constantly wears a mask on his face to hide his burns that came from the accident. He has become a little protective, especially over his band mates and sister, because his trauma has given him an intense fear of loss. His mysterious persona and captivating music makes him quite amazing really... he's the Natural star protector!

And we're done!! I'm gonna update with the other ocs later!!! Bye!!

[jadelover69]

uhm... pls dont kill me...

explanation!!

tw: Pr*scilla

If Jamil became... boring to her. She just had to accept that.

And he did.

Pity.

He was nice...

She’d miss him. And his smile.. And the way his hair smelled... but it’s fine. She can always get the same brand of shampoo and conditioner.

So she left a note.

Was it well written? As if!

He wouldn’t believe it. But he should.

+note she left

❝uhm so LMAOO but i dont think this relationship is going anywhere 😬😬😬 so im breaking up with you!! 😽😽😽 baibai!! have a good life 🫶🫶🫶❞

tagging!! @babyghoul138 (u made me do this...)

@anonymousplant @v4mpiior @angelwishess @screamintoad @lallopsyou psps...

[whumble-beeee]

Whumptober 2024 | Day 1 | The Bee's Whumptober Masterlist

AI-less Whumptober: public torture/public use, stress position, “If you cry, we’ll go easy on you.”

Whumptober: RACE AGAINST THE CLOCK | Search Party | Panic Attack | "If only we could hold on.”

CW: kidnapping, torture, camping gone wrong, little shit whumpee

* * * * * * * * Whumpee screeched as they were dragged through the trees, a sound that instantly silenced due to a clammy hand clamping over their mouth and pinning them violently to someone’s chest. Someone taller than them, someone stronger than them. They kicked and cried out, heart racing in their chest so fast it could’ve burst out entirely.

“Jesus Christ, help me out here!” the voice pinning them yelled out. A flurry of movement. Whumpee couldn’t focus. More people?? “Shut up, you’re just making things worse for yourself!”

Whumpee threw their elbow back, slamming into the soft flesh of the assailant's stomach, and the assailant cried out, their grip faltering just enough for Whumpee to stomp on their knee, causing a worrying crinkly-crunch and a drawn out screech of pain not dissimilar to their own first cry.

Then the deathgrip faltered, and they stumbled out of their hold, and they RAN–

The force of another immovable body slammed into them and tackled them to the itchy pine straw and brush-covered ground. All the air violently expelled from their lungs, and for just a moment, they couldn’t breathe. They forgot how, something was blocking it, the bodies and the heat and the movement and the pain they were trapped in on all sides they were lost THEY WERE TRAPPED THEY COULDN’T MOVE THEIR LIMBS HELP HELP HELP HELP HELP–!!

Glorious fresh air suddenly filled their lungs! They were alive! They were okay! Only then did they realize that the glorious life-saving air wasn’t glorious fresh air at all, but hot and sticky and hard to breath because it was filtered through the thick pine straw underbrush that their face was smashed into–

AUGH THEIR ARM–!!

Stabbing needles of pain shot up and down their shoulder and it was wrenched violently behind their back and pinned in between their shoulder blades, half a breath away from fully dislocating and much too hopelessly pinned and tangled to even dream of struggling to get it loose.

They cried out, a whining sort of cry that matched the staccato tempo of their racing heart. “OW OW OW OWOWOWowowowowow STOP STOP STOP PLEASE, you’re hurting me let go please–!”

Tears instictually and wholly nocensunsuall filled their eyes and they kicked their feet wildly, more out of primal instinct than any hope to escape. The struggling hurt so much, yet they struggled and screamed and fought nonetheless.

Suddenly the grip on their arm loosened, just slightly, just so, just enough to that it didn’t hurt as much but it was still hopelessly trapped in the iron grip forcing it there.

They stopped screaming, took in a large breath they hadn’t realized they so desperately needed, and then suddenly everything felt just a little bit clearer.

But it still fucking hurt!

“Let me go!” they demanded, tearful whine forcing its way through their voice. When had they started crying?

The presence that weighted down their body– was someone sitting on them?? No wonder they couldn’t move. Or breath…– shifted slightly, and whumpee saw a face barely enter their periphery.

“Let me GO! Get off!! Let me–!” Their arm tweaked back and whumpee screamed again.

“Shut up.” The attacker sitting on them finally spoke. “Last chance, or I’ll make you scream until your voice box explodes, got it??”

Their arm was released once more, and they felt their whole body untense as the pain fell away. Mostly. They clutched at the ground with their free arm and pressed their face into the pine straw. Trying and failing to hold back the sobbing whimpers that escaped their throat.

“Fi-i-i-ine.” They growled, voice sharp and fragile as broken glass.

A hand from behind them roughly grabbed the neck under their chin and wrenched their head up to look forward, eliciting another groaning squeal from the victim.

They found themselves staring right into the cold dead eyes of the other person who attacked them.

Their eyes widened, breath running ragged through their constricted windpipe.

Shit.

Ohhhhhh shit shit shit fuck shit fuck shit fuck shit no no no please FUCK. Whumpee recognised them.

“This the right one?” The voice on top of them panted.

The face in front of them smiled. No, they smirked. And nodded. “Yup. This is the little fucker,” they chuckled, disgusting breath misting whumpee’s face. “We’ll show you to steal from other’s campsites, won’t we, li’l buddy?”

“My family will come looking for me!” The words tumbled out of Whumpee’s dirt-smeared lips before they had a chance to think. “They probably already are, they’re getting suspicious right now because I’ve been gone too long and they’ll ask all the campsites around and they’ll make a search party and–!”

Another arm tweak, another scream, another face shove into the ground, another exhausting tensing of muscle under the weight of the person holding them down.

“Well.” They felt the iron-cold grip of the first assailant on their arm, crooking their arm back in ways an arm should never bend, just like the first. They screamed even louder, a hand slapped over their mouth, tears over the hand, barely enough presence of mind to even struggle as the combined force on their arms lifted them off the ground and they struggled and screamed and kicked and cried against the hold gagging them like a wild animal caught in a trap and fighting for it’s life. They barely felt their feet touch the ground, barely noticed as they were marched forward through the trees, further and further from their family, their friends, anyone who might’ve actually been able to hear their screams.

“Guess we should get busy. Race against time Will they find us? Or will they find you broken on the forest floor?”

* * * * * * * *

Father jumped at the sound that pierced high above the trees. Distant, barely audible, yet it made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

“What was that?” he commented. His voice rang with equal parts disgust and concern.

Mother looked equally as frightened. “A… A wolf howl maybe?”

“It sounded like a scream,” Sister said nonchalantly as she poked at the raging fire protecting them from the inky blackness of the freezing night.

Wind whistled through the trees.

“Or. Y’know. The wind.”

“Have any of you seen Whumpee lately?” Father asked. “I don’t see them.”

“They uh…" Sister voice dropped low, suddenly sensing an new urgency. They went to the bathroom last I saw.”

“That was hours ago!” Mother cried.

“Well I haven’t seen them since then!”

“Neither have I!”

"Or me!"

Father’s chest heaved, eyes wide, shaking nearly as much as the trees above them shook in the icy wind. “So… So… Where..?!”

The family’s gaze went from one another, ghost white to ghost white to ghost white.

Not a single breath among them.

Another distant scream.

Or wolf howl. 

Or maybe just a whistling of the trees.

* * * * * * * *

Taglist: @whumperofworlds

(If you'd like to be added or subtracted from the taglist just let me know!)

[asks-for-daiki]

(Background info/story for Daiki: Mom.)

"Daiki."

Mrs.Nakamura sits still on her bed, her back leaning against the pillows and head rest. Her body stiff and weak, her hair is slightly messy as she has just woken up. She pats to the side of the bed to gesture for her son to sit down.

Daiki, who's about 4 years old comes running along, his steps unbalanced. He's an itty bitty kid, needing to haul himself up onto the elevated bed. After a bit of struggling he sits next to his mom and contently listens to her. His eyes are full of innocence and child like wonder.

"I'm sorry..." Her voice is shaky, she sounds faint. She's always saying things like these. Mrs.Nakamura reaches out and places her hand atop her son's head as a way to comfort him, a way to know that he's going to stay with her for the time being. She smiles weakly, but it's genuine. Her child is smiling, and it makes her smile too.

Daiki lets out a small little giggle at the current hand on his head. Putting his small palms over his mother's as a childish gesture. It makes Mrs.Nakamura's heart sting, the feeling of sobbing washes over her. But she quickly calms down, if she cried in front of her kid wouldn't that worry him? She quickly asks a question to her son to not think too much. "Daiki, is it alright if you get Mommy her medicine?..."

Daiki nods his head happily, crawling off the bed slowly and plopping his feet down to the ground again. "Mhm!" He then remembers something important. He immediately cocks his head up to look at his Mom with wide and curious eyes. "...Which one?"

Mrs.Nakamura, thinks for a moment before smiling softly. Not wanting to ignore her child's question. "Can you get me the one in a small white container?..."

Daiki stares at his mom, his brain processing what his mom said before looking a bit confused. "You have a looott of those though!"

Mrs.Nakamura looked at her son's expression and couldn't help but chuckle, her voice and expression warm and comforting. At least in Daiki's eyes who couldn't help but smile along with her. "Sorry Daiki... I should've been more specific. It's the one with a small white flower sticker."

"Okay!! I'll get it super fast! Watch me!!" Daiki dashed out of the room almost tripping over his own ankle, the apartment filled with the laughter of a small child. Then. It faded away into silence.

Mrs.Nakamura sat on her bed, alone again. She silently cursed at herself. What a terrible mother she is... all bed ridden and sickly. She can't watch her child grow and have fun. She can't make memories with her child. She can't always watch him play, nor can she play with him most of the time. She just wished that hopefully, in the future, when she gets better, she can make memories she can treasure with her kid and her husband. But when will that be?

[chemzee]

They're always on my mind

[yanderespamton78]

Pinup!!!!! the baby!!!! the guy!!!!

sorry if this looks kinda iffy the majority of this was drawn between 11pm and 2:30am so i was very tired loll

also yes that is a totoro bag i dont care if totoro doesnt exist in cyber city he has a totoro bag come at me

Pinup belongs to @turntableart

[noblereason]

Listen man, I vibe with everyone, canon and OCs. You show up at my doorstep I open the door. I rp with everyone equally.

[leafwateraddict]

Really nervous about posting this- but I posted the first two chapters of my fic

[wereh0gz]

It's oc posting time

Rue has vivid revenge fantasies. Extremely violent ones about the many ways they'd kill Nox if they ever got their paws on him. Crushing his exoskeleton under their bare paws, tearing him apart limb for limb, ripping his guts out and eating his heart while he's still alive- you name it, they've probably thought about it

These thoughts *terrify* her. It proves what Nox has always told her right, that she is a hopeless, violent, uncontrollable *monster*. That the reason she became a beast in the first place is because she is truly evil at heart, just like him

(In actuality, it's just a symptom of their PTSD, but going to therapy and actually unpacking all of that isn't an option to them. They'd rather die than actually talk abt their struggles)

So the thoughts fester in her mind for years. She thinks about it daily. It becomes like an obsession. An impulse. A need. And she begins to think that the only way to free herself from that torment is to do it. To kill him. Even if it proves Nox right

Even if it proves *her* right

So they hunt him down, trying to kill him every time they encounter each other. And every time, Nox gets away, and he taunts them. And the thoughts, the want, the *hunger* for vengeance grows stronger

The cycle continues. The thoughts never cease. She never finds peace

(At least, she *thinks* she will never find peace, but she does. Eventually. After Nox dies from his own hubris lol)

[oceanof-starz]

back with my mobian oc, ratchet the wolf (they/them)!!

i kinda felt my art downgrade here, but thats okay!!! i think it rlly brings personality out still

mainly did this so i could show off their room HEHEEHEE

MY OVEREXPLANATION UNDER CUT!!!

i recommended trying to guess personality traits of ratchet using the room before you read :]

this is rlly abt their room so you can skip over this if you dont care

SOOO ratchet like. idolizes robotnik. and i rlly tried to show that in their room, especially with all the hidden things around!! since theyre a kid of course like. some kid things too (mainly the drawing)

they base their personality off of their perception of robotnik qnd even made a checklist on what to do to be cool and evil!! really, they wanna be like their idol. sadly, none of the checklist is crossed off (YET!!)

the drawing of ratchet and robotnik hung on their wall? yeah, theres more. ratchet makes a TON of drawings with them and robotnik. they wanna meet him so bad and doodle about what they'd do if they met him and such. they hung up that one bc a) its one of the oldest and b) it makes them happy to see a drawing of them holding robotnik's hand. the box there? its full of more of the drawings. they constantly go through the drawings for fun and pretend outloud whats going on. like. they pretend to talk to robotnik and hug the drawings LOL

theres also. the mustache growth serum. it uh. it doesnt exactly work since ratchet is like 10 and also they dont have testosterone,, ALTHOUGH. when they grow up theyre sooo gonna make sure they grow a mustache and maybe a goatee. they rlly wanna be just like robotnik AHDHSH

also someone get this kid an actual place to live bc theyre literally in a decorated cave. there is NO HEATING in that place. poor baby freezes

wooaah you made it this far? TY FOR READING MY RAMBLE!!! i really love ratchet and i wanna post abt them more soo,, perhaps expect some sorta mini-fic centered around them!!

I ALSO REACHED TAG LIMIT??? I DIDNT KNOW THIS WAS POSSIBLE LOL

[silk-bullet]

Memory 🎀🦋

[sundial-bee-scribbles]

In case it's hard to read/understand: "If I had a nickel for every time I had a story with a blonde girl named after a plant, who has a German father and a French mother but absolutely hates said mom, I'd have two nickels. Which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it happened twice."

weird, extremely-specific tropes in my stories: pt 1

[cocoawithmarshmallows]

cw: usage of tobacco products, references to sexual activity

Mayfly lied in bed now, eyes tracing the dimly lit ceiling. Her hands rested on her chest, cushioned by the blankets beneath her fingers, rising and falling with each of her bated breaths. Her thighs pressed together, hot in their softest creases, as she thought.

It wasn't her intention, not at first. She had been working late, filing reports. It was another slow night at the station, and Mayfly had offered to stay late to file reports of past robberies. In the presence of recent crime, new records of criminals had stacked up high; Mayfly did the right thing by offering to help, it was her job, after all.

She didn't know the sheriff would be staying late, too.

He was always so good at sneaking up on her, catching her off guard. Mayfly figured it would be another one of those things again, never expecting it to go somewhere, anywhere. Yet he managed to surprise her again, and Mayfly didn't understand how she didn't see it coming—lidded eyes, the gentle scent of liquor somewhere beneath his collar, the hot, dry air that passed through an open office window.

He offered her a ride home, which should have been the end of it. Mayfly had no idea how she ended up at his, truly. Bandits were out, it wasn't safe to travel so far out of town.

His house was closer, anyways.

What would her mother say? Nothing, being six feet into the ground, but Mayfly pondered the shame regardless. Her heart thrummed behind her chest as she recalled the night's events—the feeling of his rough hands in hers, those sounds he made like a bubbling brook as he towered over her, so unique, so pretty, the words he spoke to her, laced with moonshine on his tongue and echoing in the night air, close to her heart now, sweet thing, pretty girl.

Mayfly swallowed, shifting in her place. Against the dark, she could make out the cowhide hat of the sheriff, hanging quietly on the bedpost. Beside her, leaning back with face tipped to the side, was her impromptu man of the hour. He lifted a cigarette to his mouth with an inhale, the ember at the end expanding its light with his lungs, just enough glow for her to see his face for a fleeting moment, staring at her, gazing, as if he was ready to consume her all over again; and then his face plunged back into darkness, slightly shifting his body that weighed so heavily on the mattress because of his sheer size, causing Mayfly to roll closer to his person like the tides to the moon.

The smoke spun in the air as he blew it from his beak with a silent huff, a gossamer curtain of an after feeling that continued to course through Mayfly’s veins. It clouded her head, her senses, as she breathed in the secondhand smoke, redolent of his scent, of him, staining her lips like an indirect kiss.

“Doing alright there, darling?” He drawled, the end of his cigarette teasing his beak. “You’ve been real quiet.”

Mayfly said nothing, absorbing the silence, the feeling that lingered between them. Slowly, movement caught the corner of her eye, rustling, then a pause, followed by a hand outstretched in her direction.

The sheriff was offering her a cigarette.

“Helps me with the nerves, you know,” he admitted bashfully. His own remained lit, hanging by the corner of his mouth. Carefully, Mayfly shifted herself closer, taking the offering from his rough hand. Hesitantly, she placed it between her own lips, unsure of what to do.

The sheriff noticed her struggle, and with a gentle smile, he said, “Here. I’ll light it for you.”

Mayfly blinked, pondering why he hadn’t taken out his matchbox again, when the sheriff angled his head towards her as if to find her lips again, the red hot end of his own cigarette lighting hers, eyes closed as he breathed their shared air in. Mayfly’s cigarette radiated to life, painting both their faces with that same glow, allowing her to catch his eyes once more before the inky sheet of night hid those pooling black eyes once more.

The smoke burned on its way out of her nose and lungs, dense and warm, unknotting the bundles in her muscles and quelling the ache in her chest. Out she breathed, her own cloud a signature of her presence in his room, his bed.

The two remained silent for a moment, before Mayfly spoke again. “…It was real nice of you to let me stay someplace safe tonight.” The cigarette smoked between her fingers, it almost spelled out his name. “Never knew you felt that way…’bout me. …Thank you, sir.”

A slower exhale preceded his answer, Mayfly could hear the smile on his tongue through the dark. “Call me Leo.”

Mayfly swallowed. “Leo?”

“As many times as you want me, sugar.”

tl:dr: mayfly ends up sleeping with the sheriff who just so happens to be leo

this was supposed to be a short blurb how the heck did it spiral aksjdgdhfjfk

read “sanctuary” on ao3 (shameless plug)

[fruityfroggy]

I genuinely can't tell if this is good anymore. But I spent so long on it, maybe some feedback on this wonky one shot ficthing could help T-T

Am I...Doing This Right?

OC X CANON WARNING (you have been warned)

Pairing: Dikke x Verdigris

Word count: 764

A/N: Dikke's anecdote did things to my brain chemistry, so I have instantly been distracted from the fic I was working on (as well as the fic I was going to write before finishing said fic cuz I got distracted by that before this). What else is new, right? This is the fruity blob of nonsense we're talking about, ofc it ended up this way. Anyways, this fic may not be as juicy as the last one, but we’re making do. Awkward lesbians is sorta the vibe I was going for. Hope I did okay on that.

The wind blew swift and sharp that evening, causing the loose strands of Verdigris' hair to whip around with it. She was getting a breath of fresh air after hours of sitting and working in her workshop. A small walk would do her good, and she knew it.

By the distant trees, a figure stood tall and slender. Pale white hair cascaded down her dark cape, wavering in the wind like rippling water. It seems that Dikke was out here as well.

It wasn't uncommon to see her outside at night, but this time around, daylight hadn't even left the sky yet. Curious, Verdigris walked over to her, careful not to disrupt the judge’s pondering as she stepped beside her.

Despite her efforts, Dikke seemed to notice her fairly quickly, turning her head just slightly to glance in her direction. “Good evening,” she greeted her with a slight smile. But a distant look was in her eyes, suggesting that her mind was still elsewhere.

Verdigris had noticed this, but she greeted her back and looked into the distance for a while, trying to keep it off her mind. But she couldn’t. It felt a bit nosy to ask such a question, but Verdigris just had to know.

“You seem a bit…troubled today. Is there something bothering you?” A look of worry softly spread across her gentle features, as she carefully glanced up at her.

“Perhaps…but ‘tis not of thy concern. Worry not about my troubles, Verdigris.” Dikke looked away for a moment, the front two strands of her hair blew almost mesmerizingly in the air, forcing Verdigris to look away as well.

Before she could reply though, a giant gust of wind cut her off suddenly; even colder and sharper against her skin than before. Maybe she should've worn a little more overtop before heading out. But it was a little too late at the moment.

As sudden as the wind had hit her, a warmth wrapped firmly around her shoulders in response, pulling Verdigris out of her thoughts. "Thou should wear more in weather like this. Such neglect of thy health shall do nothing but harm to thee..." Those words may sound a bit harsh on paper, but Dikke's voice sounded warmer than most would expect. Glancing up at her again, Verdigris finally processed what had happened. The warmth around her was the cape of a certain judge beside her.

Maybe that cape was thicker than it looked, or maybe it was the heat that quickly rose to her cheeks from the situation. Either way, Verdigris didn't seem to feel the chilly air anymore in that moment. She opened her mouth to say something, anything, but nothing came out.

Dikke's gaze shifted around a bit, unsure where to look, now that they’re standing this close to each other. Despite that, she still reached a shaky hand over to Verdigris and placed it gingerly on her waist, pulling her a little closer. Why she did any of this was unbeknownst to her. What started off as an impulsive act of protectiveness, quickly became more forward than intended, and the flowery language needed to resolve such a situation just doesn’t come naturally to her. What has she gotten herself into? Things weren’t supposed to unfold this way.

Without even realizing, a lengthy silence had dragged out between them. All they could do was feel their breaths quickening, as their sides pressed together warmly. “Thank you…for the kind gesture” Verdigris finally managed to push out. “…No need” the much taller arcanist replied, still struggling to make eye contact.

Fine, since they were at this point already, Dikke might as well take a risk. Risks weren't new to her at all. But unplanned risks...unplanned risks..like this, why were they so hard? Slowly, she took the inventor's hand in hers, feeling its coldness against her skin. Her thumb grazed the back of her hand so carefully, it was as if she was going to break it if she wasn’t careful enough. She glanced down to check Verdigris' reaction, watching her gaze as it shifts towards her hand, then back up to meet her eyes. Verdigris...such a sight for sore eyes that it aches elsewhere...

Something different danced across Dikke's icy blue eyes, accompanied by a slight, warmer hue. A soft smile pulled at both their lips as they looked at each other for a little longer than they should.

"What's on your mind now?"

“…Thee…’twas thee from the start…thou who occupies my thoughts…”

“…! what?…”

“What?”

Maybe things just won’t go as smoothly as they could be…

[daz4i]

as soon as i figure out how to start creating again it's over for you

[snail-legs]

them!