#well I think you are just simply not a good person

[purplesuitcowboy]

cw: dubious consent, fauxcest, double penetration, free use

"I don't have any cash on me," her step-father, Thomas, told the frazzled young man at the cash register.

"But, I have this,” he said. He jostled the young women who stood beside him for emphasis. Quinn offered up weak protest from behind the ball gang in her mouth. She hated when he did shit like this. Ever since he’d figured out that she’s dabbled in selling nudes online, how he was able to tell if was her when she hadn’t even shown her face was beyond her, he’d been strong arming her into all sorts of shit under the threat of disclosing her little business endeavor to her mother.

Her mother had always been a bit of a prude and if she found out, Quinn would be kicked out of the house for sure and her sizable inheritance would be reduced to 0. She was sure that she could find a place to stay if she got kicked out but losing out on her inheritance was simply not an option. She gone along with his demands which had started as head in the parking lot of his job and had quickly ballooned out of proportion from there.

As it turned out, Thomas was a bit of a kinky bastard but he couldn’t live out his fantasies with her mother so he used her instead. Quinn was almost positive that Thomas preferred it that way. Even before their little agreement, he’d always told her that she had a body built of sex and that she’d make a man very happy one day. This had been very, very weird then but she had ignored it. He made her mother so happy that Quinn had just written off his comments as personality quirks. They hadn’t been. They were the truest expressions of his wishes and desires.

In a sick way, she was perfect for him. She was just as much as a freak as she was, got just as turned on by their slinking around as he did. She just had the good sense to be ashamed and embarrassed by it. Quinn tried not to think about the fact that she was helping her step-father cheat on her mother. Surely, finding out that this had been happening behind her back was worse then Quinn selling her nudes online. Either way, she was a coward because she said nothing and continued fucking her mother’s husband.

Quinn was trapped between her step-father’s bulk and the edge of the counter. Already, she could feel the beginnings of his hard on against her ass. Thomas held her tightly, securing her arms behind her back. He pushed her towards the counter, forcing her to lean awkwardly over it. The precarious position highlighted her generous bust which was barely being contained by her the low neckline of her short dress. Her hardened nipples could be easily seen through the thin material. She briefly made eye contact with the cashier but quickly averted her gaze, deeply embarrassed by the situation. Despite her embarrassment and shame, she feel heat begin too bloom between her legs as she felt the cashiers eyes on her tits. She didn’t have to see his face to know that he liked what he saw. In her minds eye, she could already imagine these men sharing her body, fucking her holes and filling her with their cum. She shifted, rubbing her thighs together.

"Oh, I'm not sure I can..I don't, uh,..."

"Come on," he paused, squinting at the young man's name tag. "Gordon? Damn, what did your parents give you an old man name like that for? Anyway, you're gonna pass up a fuck with a pretty young thing like my stepdaughter here. You like girls don't you, son?"

The young man nodded, rendered completely speechless by the situation. He saw a lot of weird shit during his shifts at the convenience store -especially during the late shift- but this was really taking the cake. He thought that the pair were odd when they walked in but he hadn’t thought much of it until they’d gotten to the counter.

"Well then give 'em a feel,” the old man jeered. “You're gonna make her feel bad if you don't. You're gonna make her think somethings wrong with her tits. You don't want that do you."

Thomas pulled down the top of Quinn’s dress, freeing her tits from their confines. Roughly, he grabbed one of her breasts, massaging it with his hand. Quinn whimpered in response. With Thomas’s grip on her loosened, she freed one of her arms and used it to prop herself up on the counter. Hesitantly, the cashier reached forward to gently fondle one of Quinn’s tits.

“Come on, kid!” Thomas exclaimed. “Grab it like you mean it. None of that pussy shit now.”

The cashier nodded and with renewed vigor, grabbed Quinn’s breasts, kneading them with his hands. Her eyes fluttered shut and she seemed to push her tits out as if offering herself up to him. The edge of the counter dug into her hip but she barely noticed. Gordon could feel his dick harden against his thigh as he fondled her. Her skin was soft beneath his finger tips, and her nipples were red and rosy like the cherry on top of an ice cream sunday. Looking at them, at her, made his mouth water. Emboldened, he leaned forward and took one of her nipples into his mouth, sucking it and rolling it with his tongue. Quinn moaned, drool gathering on the ball gag and dripping down her chin to her chest. Thomas watched as the cashier lavished Quinn’s tits with attention. He slipped a hand between her thighs, fingers gently rubbing against her slick folds. He loved have easy access to her pussy so she rarely wore panties around him. Another whine escaped Quinn’s lips as she tried to rock her cunt against his fingers.

“Yeah, you like that don’t you baby. Your little pussy is so wet,” he told her, voice almost loving.

He plunged two fingers into her cunt, slowly pumping them in and out. His hand was quickly covered in her juices as he continued to fuck her with his fingers, first one and then two and three. Gordon paused his ministrations and cocked his head to the side, watching enrapt as the older man fingered Quinn’s cunt. His fingers were shiny with her juices as he pumped them in and out of her hole. With every attempt to pull out, Gordon could see the walls of her cunt tightly clenched around his fingers, seemingly unwilling to let them leave the hot, wet channel. If Gordon had any blood left in his body, it had all rushed to his cock. It throbbed painfully in his shorts begging for attention. He’d been hard for a while but it was becoming almost unbearable. He let go of Quinn’s tits and pushed her out of the way so he could hop the counter to join them on the other side. Seeing movement out of the corner of his eye, Thomas stopped finger fucking Quinn’s pussy to watch the cashier volt over the counter to join them. He took a step back and, tugging at her hip with a wet hand, pulled her back to give the young man room to stand.

Eagerly, Quinn leaned towards the cashier. She braced herself on him, holding onto his hip with one hand. With her other hand, she pulled down the zip of his shorts and pulled out his harden cock. Her eyes widened as she admired its size and thickness. The cashier reached for the ball gag, pulling it out of her mouth. Her eyes locked onto his, she took his thumb into her mouth, running her hot tongue along the tip and sucking on it lightly.

“Fuck” the cashier said, breathless.

Dutifully, Quinn took his cock into her mouth. The cashier groaned, as his cock was enveloped by the wet, heat of Quinn’s mouth. She took him deep until the head of his cock tapped the back of her throat. Her eyes watered but she didn’t gag, instead, she breathed heavily out of her nose trying to steady her breathing.

“Atta girl,” Thomas told her. “Show him how well I’ve trained you. Fuck her throat, son. Don’t worry. She can take it.”

She seemed to gurgle something in the affirmative. He placed his hands on the top of her head and steadily began to fuck her throat. Thomas was right. Quinn forced herself to relax and use her. After a couple of thrust, she pulled her head away, gasping for breath, before she took his cock back in her mouth. As she serviced the cashiers cock, Thomas helped himself to her pussy. He unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock. Giving himself a few strokes, he lined himself up with her cunt. He rubbed his shaft against the lips of her pussy, coating himself in her juices, before he slowly began to push his thick cock into her waiting hole. It didn’t seem to matter how much he fucked her, her cunt felt as tight as it had the first time that he’d had her. He groaned as pushed inch after inch into her cunt until he was seated to the hilt. The two men quickly found a good rhythm using her body, one pulling out while the other pushed in and vise versa.

Adjusting her hold on Gordon, Quinn steadied herself on one hand so she could slip the other between her legs to rub at her tender clit. It didn’t take long before she was writhing and cumming on Thomas’s cock. As she came, her cunt tightened around his shaft and Thomas quickly found himself emptying his load into her cunt. Gordon came soon after. He tried to pull out of Quinn’s mouth to cum on her chest but she held him tight forcing him to cum into her mouth. He pulled out of her lips and she opened her mouth, showing him his load on her tongue before she swallowed.

“You’re not done are you?” she asked, looking up at the cashier with big doe eyes.

The cashier looked down at her, a look of awe on his face. Surely, she was a succubus or some other worldly being. He’d never met a woman with the sexual appetite this one seemed to. He worried that she would suck his soul out of his cock and that he would happily let her do it. Sharing her with her stepfather was a bit strange, but he’d cum so hard it hardly seemed to matter at that point as long as he got to fuck her again. Thomas laughed behind her and slapped her ass, earning him a squeak of surprised from Quinn.

“Horny slut.”

“Please?” she said to the cashier, ignoring her stepfather. “I want to have your cock in my pussy.”

“He can fuck your pussy but I want to fuck your ass while he does it.”

“Uh, yeah. Okay,” Gordon responded, eyes never leaving Quinn.

Thomas pulled out of Quinn’s cunt and unceremoniously picked her up off of her feet. The head of his cock teased her asshole. She reached down and helped to push his cock into her hole, toes curling as his cock filled her ass. Thomas held her with her back again his chest and his hands on her ass. Her legs were open showing off her cunt, still leaking Thomas’s cum, to Gordon’s gaze. Thinking with his lower head, Gordon stepped between her legs and pushed his cock into her waiting hole. Between her juices and Thomas’s left over cum, Gordon’s cock slid in easily.

“Oh my god,” Quinn said with a groan, closing her eyes and learning her head back on Thomas’s shoulder.

“So… fucking…tight,” Thomas said, reeling from the sensation of her ass clenched around him with the additional tightness added from Gordon’s cock in her cunt.

Thomas and Gordon scrambled to adjust their shared grip on her body. Thomas adjusted his grip on her ass and Gordon grabbed hold of her thighs. Working together, they worked to bounce Quinn on their cocks while also attempting to thrust into her holes. It was an awkward process but it felt so good that it didn’t even matter. Quinn had never felt so full in her life. She felt as if any moment she might just combust. It was painful and uncomfortable but so pleasurable.

She opened her eyes and lifting her head off of Thomas’s shoulder, leaned forward to capture Gordon’s mouth in a kiss. He swiped at her bottom lip with his tongue and she opened up her mouth, allowing him to intertwine his tongue with her’s. He was so wrapped up in kissing her that he stopped thrusting which made it much easier for Thomas to hammer his cock into her ass. With a free hand, Quinn reached down to rub her sensitive clit. She moaned against Gordon’s lips as she came. Her body went ridged in his arms as she rode out her orgasm. Greedy, she continued to furiously rub her clit, pushing herself to another orgasm.

“Fuck,” Thomas exclaimed as he felt her clench around him. “Fuck!”

Her asshole was so snug around him that he could hardly move but it was fine, the rhythmic clenching of her hole as she orgasmed guided him to his release. He stood there for a moment, reeling from the sensation. Finally, he braced himself and slowly pulled out of her ass. His cum leaked out of her hole in the absence of his cock but he used his thick fingers to fuck it back in.

Frank no longer right behind her. Gordon lowered her to her feet and turned her, bending her over the counter so he could finish himself off. Frank’s softening cock seemed to wake back up at the sight and he stroked it idly while he watched Gordon roughly pound her from behind until he came deep in her cunt. Gordon took a step back and the two men admired the sight of Quinn’s sloppy, cum covered holes.

“So, I’m good to take the cigarettes, right?”

[lidiasloca]

more than this (azriel x reader)

summary: after Azriel and reader had a summer together, the last thing Az was expecting was to face her again. (angst).

previous chapter

chapter eight

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AZRIEL'S POV

“Do you miss her?”

The question didn’t shock me. It was Cassian who asked, so of course it didn’t surprise me. His eyes silently asked me every time I let him into my apartment—though that wasn’t often.

“For fuck’s sake. You won’t even say a word? A single word?” he asked, exasperated. If my brother was losing his temper, it was only because he’d been trying all day. Well, technically for two whole months. And still, he hadn’t given up. Maybe now he would.

“I’m not in the mood to talk,” you mumbled, just to give him something.

“Yeah, no shit. You haven’t been in the mood to talk for a long time, Az,” he replied, but at least he sounded calmer now. “You can’t go on like this. Your life is waiting for you outside this apartment.” He sighed deeply before adding what I knew would be a low blow. “A life without her.”

I didn’t know what was so different in the air today, but I felt like trying to talk about it. For once, I knew deep down I had to. “I don’t want a life without her.”

“You had a life without her before. And you were just fine.”

Nothing had been fine without her.

I didn’t feel like arguing, so my heart gave my mouth a confession to share. “I want her, but I can’t have her—and that’s my fault.”

“Sometimes what we want isn’t what’s good for us. Maybe she wasn’t the one for you…”

She was not the one for me.

She was not the one for me.

Over the loud thoughts in my mind, I could hear Cassian continue. “Sometimes giving up is the right thing, Az. And you have to—”

“Shut up.”

He met my eyes instantly, alarm and quiet anger in them. “You never let me help you, brother,” he said, defeated.

“You cannot help.”

“You’re not helpless, you—”

“YOU CANNOT HELP ME!” I stood, anger surging through my veins. “You can’t! I HAVE FUCKING LOST MY MATE. MY MATE! AND YOU THINK YOU CAN HELP WITH THAT?!”

And that was that.

Cassian was shocked. “Your mate?” he muttered.

My lack of an answer was enough for him to stand, walk toward me, and say plainly, “I can help you—I will help you because you’re my brother, Az. Because I love you, and I know you deserve your mate. No matter your mistakes, I know you like no one else, and you are a good person. You’re not defined by one mistake, you hear me?”

I let out a humorless chuckle. “How could you help me?”

He looked down thoughtfully. “I have an idea. It’s not great, but it’s an idea.”

Hope sparked inside my heart. “What?” I asked eagerly. But Cassian suddenly turned and started walking toward the door. “Cassian,” I called, but he kept going. “Cassian?!”

Once at the door, he turned. “You won’t like the idea.”

“Then don’t do it.”

“Exactly. I can’t let you stop me from trying.”

“Cassian,” I threatened, watching his hand on the door handle. “Alright,” I gave in, knowing he’d do it anyway. At least I’d rather know. “I’ll let you do it. But tell me. Please.”

“I’m going to talk to Elain.”

…

And now she was here. Y/N was in front of me, her eyes surprised as if she hadn’t been the one coming to my apartment and knocking on my door. As if she wasn’t the one with the upper hand here, the only one who with one word could ruin my life.

Or save it.

One word is all it takes.

“Can we go to the lake?” is what she says instead, and it makes me think maybe it doesn’t depend on her words, but simply the sound of her voice.

Yes, the melodic sound of her enchanting voice could save me. So the answer comes easily out of my lips. “Yes.”

The familiar path we take to the lake is uncomfortably memorized in my heart, and I guess in hers as well. Every step I take, I’ve taken many times before with her, but it feels like that was in another lifetime.

No one has dared a word yet, and I fear I am not strong enough to start. I know I should, I know there are many unsaid speeches I owe her. But my lips won’t move to my command.

“Elain came,” she states plainly.

It’s plain and short, but I am still grateful the silence is finally broken. I am not so grateful when I realize I have to reply to that. Talking about Elain is not ideal.

“Cassian might have had something to do with that.”

She turns her face to me, giving me a pointed look that I know means no harm. She’s simply analyzing me so she doesn’t have to ask. “No. She came for herself. And for you.”

I regard her back, still walking. “Did she?” I inquire incredulously. I am sure Cassian sparked Elain’s visit, but of course, she would have had a more relevant reason to talk to her.

But doing it partly for me?

The last time I spoke with Elain had been a very rough night. I remember what I said, what Y/N said. The day had been cruel enough, and I ran to the one I had put through an even crueler time. Elain.

“Yes,” she replies, nodding. “She told me about the last time you saw her. That night…” Her voice turns weak at the last bit. I feel weak at the memories her words bring. The wound feels fresh now that she’s near again.

Silence unfolds upon us, helping both of us swim deep into the ocean of pieces of our shared lives.

As if on cue, the lake finally appears in front of us. It is still the same as the last time we swam in it together, as if it were a space created just for us, only to be undisturbed when we weren't there.

I silently ask her with my eyes if she wishes to get closer to it. She gives me an approving nod, so I walk toward it and sit on a large rock by the lake. She sits next to me.

“I’m so sorry.” I turn to her quickly, my eyebrows rising in utter shock.

“What? You don’t have to be sorry about anything,” I mutter too quickly to come out clearly.

“Of course I do. Yes, you do more. But I will always be sorry about what I said to you that night.” She sighs, shifting her gaze away from my eyes. “I wish you could forgive me.”

I open my mouth, even more surprised. “Y/N, of course, I forgive you. Don’t…” I try, but her words, even if I don’t hold them against her, still feel hard to forget. Hard not to let them kill me slowly. “You shouldn’t be the one apologizing. I should. I must.” I wait until she looks at me again to go on. She needs to see I mean it. Every bit. “I’m so sorry. What I did to you and Elain was the worst thing I’ve ever done, and I regret it every day. I’m so sorry I betrayed your trust.”

The air feels thick with unspoken emotions—betrayal, disappointment, maybe even love—all mingling in the quiet. At last, she says, “I forgive you, Azriel.”

My mind goes blank with raw confusion and shock, trying to grasp some coherence in her words. She forgives me. I don’t have to ask her why, for she sees the confusion on my face and continues.

“Because I love you.”

What.

“Because I love you still, Azriel. And because you are my mate. And because I know you truly are sorry.”

Hope sparks inside me, quick and strong. And when I let thoughts of the life we could have together take hold, it’s a fire that roars in my heart.

She loves me—maybe, after all, I still had a chance. Perhaps not everything was lost as I thought. Perhaps I had everything right in front of me.

“You love me…” I blurt out in question, because I still need confirmation.

“Yes,” she replies, and if I weren’t already reeling from this, she smiles sweetly. Her smile. Y/N’s smile. It had been so long since I’d seen it bloom on her beautiful face.

The last time had been in this very place. As if reading my thoughts, her eyes travel to the lake in front of us. Her smile deepens, and to my surprise, I smile as well.

There is a burden I’ve thrown away with her words, with the opportunity she’s given to what I thought I had lost.

Her eyes travel through the beauty of the place as she says, “This lake…”

“Yes,” I quietly mutter, because I know what she’s thinking.

She then turns to me, and it’s her eyes that remind me how much I love her. “Do you remember? This lake? Us?”

“I remember everything.”

-Characters by Sarah J. Maas

HEY! IF YOU LIKED THIS, YOU CAN CHECK OUT MY AZRIEL MASTERLIST HERE <3

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[cupcakeslushie]

Any advice for someone who's going through art block?

Art block is so difficult, because I really think it’s down to each individual person finding what helps for them.

For me, I more often just try to power through. Because if I do stop to take a break, there’s a danger, where I know I’ll get stuck for weeks, just lazing about, not getting anything done. Then it’s really hard to get back in the swing of things. But this method of being stubborn, might be horrible advice for someone whose mental health really suffers from staying in that mindset of “failing, failing, failing”. Because that’s what it can feel like, when you’re not seeing the results you want. It can be very frustrating, and it either causes you to grow even more stuck, or it lights a fire in your ass to keep you going until you’ve forced it.

Both of these methods aren’t necessarily unhealthy or bad, but they simply work for you, or they don’t. And what helps, can often change based on your mindset and energy levels.

If powering through ever does fail me, (like it kinda has recently lol). Then, I’ll throw up my hands and accept that life is telling me to take a freaking break. In a week or two, I can come back when I’m rested and inspiration hits again. Because even I have points where I just have to listen to what my brain is telling me—despite the fact that all I want to do is be drawing nonstop lol.

Ill watch some tv, listen to some music, read, cook. Whatever is relaxing. And most of these things will provide me with enough chill vibes that I can jump back in when I’m ready!

It’s all about listening to yourself and knowing when to actually give your mind and body a break.

But, If you’re coming in well rested and bright-eyed, and the art block is still popping up, maybe it’s less art block, and more just your brain being slow to switch tasks. Do some warm up sketch exercises, get up and jump around to get your blood pumping. Browse your feeds for inspiration, but set an alarm to give yourself a certain amount of time so you don’t fall down the rabbit hole. Play some banging music to get your energy up. Staring at a blank, white canvas is hardly the proper kind of stimulating activity lol. You’ll rarely find any ideas that way.

There’s plenty of methods to handling art block. The real killer of it, is more when you let it pull you into this loop of self deprecation/sabotage that only gets worse the longer you sit in it. Art block isn’t failure on your part, it doesn’t need to be punished, or mean you’re lacking as an artist.

It’s an unavoidable part of the creative process, you learn how to handle it, and how to sail through it when it hits.

It’ll either blow over when it’s ready, or when you’ve developed a good strategy to hurry it along.

[xyurishux]

CHAPTER 1 - AS A WHOLE, TOGETHER

Word Count: ~1.7k

Tags: GN!reader, Mentions of family disputes

Summary: You begin to tell Sebastian how deep UrbanShades rabbit hole truly goes, starting with yourself.

Pardon any writing errors, they may happen!

“ oh sweetie, you’re not ugly, society is,”

“So,

When I was younger, life was as normal as can be. I was in mediocre family, it was me, my mom and my dad. I’d only see my mom in the morning, and when I was back from school my dad would be home for dinner. It wasn’t until way later I learned about his job, but that isn’t relevant right now. My dad was a mystery to me, he’s my dad but I didn’t know much to anything about him. I saw him everyday when I got home but it’s was for such a small period of time, did it even count?

Life was so mundane and repetitive. Go to school, pass tests, summer break then restart it all over again. Life was boring but it wasn’t difficult.

I would do anything to be back there…” You paused looking out into the ocean, it was dark you could mistake it for the above, only simply at night. You breathe out from your nose continuing on with your story.

 “Anyways, it was back in September of 2009 when my father got a promotion. Seeing his face 4 to 5 hours per day dwindled down to seeing him once every two weeks or so, usually on Sundays. He became an enigma.

“You see, something I couldn’t see at the time was that as I grew older, his need to be in my life lowered, and sadly, that same fate fell too with my mother by default.

His job already took a toll on their relationship. Only spending 4 to 5 hours with your partner every day over the span of five years isn’t so great.

My mother would see him as much as I did and now, he just wasn’t there. The signs of a falling relationship presented themselves beforehand, but now it was obvious to anyone that the only thing keeping them together was me. At least, for my mom that was the case.

“The house was more silent than it ever was empty…”

You looked to the side with your eyes to see Sebastians full attention on you, perhaps it was the story? Or maybe he didn’t have anything better to do or it might have been the way your voice spoke with full sincerity and no sarcasm. It was like someone else took control but it was undoubtedly you and he was fully enthralled.

Your eyes met and you looked back down at the cold tile as you carried on.

“Ether way, it was in November of that same year where things would shift. My mom would realize the steady money flowing in and at growing amounts. Now you have to understand that my mother isn’t of the suspicious type nor is she a person who comes up with wild conclusions. She was (and still is, I hope) a reasonable and sensible woman. She knew that this wasn’t a simple ‘promotion’, but to know where all this money came from, well…she didn’t have the slightest clue. She didn’t know and she would never know. Well, truly know…

“The first snow started to fall as December began and Winter break freed me from my studying. Shockingly, dad came home for the holidays and New Years. Funny anecdote, I remember getting my first iPhone as a gift from him that year. It was an iPhone 3GS, God the memories…my mother was not pleased in slightest.” You laughed silent tilting your head to the side as your reminisced, it was good and loyal phone…

 “Continuing on, after Christmas as a family and with the family the next day, my parents had the only disagreement I’ve ever witnessed (only a disagreement, it wasn’t enough to count as a fight).

I think it was about 2 am and the only light that was on was the one above the kitchen table. My dad was sitting facing my mother who standing up, the last of the family who came over for the party had finally left. Chip bowls and wine glasses were still scattered on the coffee table, only barely visible by the outside Christmas lights. I watched as my mom tapped her nails against the wooden chair she was partly leaning on as she took a deep breath. I could tell she was tired, exhausted even but I could also tell she had something bugging her and she needed to let it out. I watched them from the darkness that the staircase provided, I was undetectable. I listened to them talk, leaning my upper body to the wooden railing trying not to miss a single word. I don’t remember much; it was about the money at first but it was nothing compared to what my mother said next.”

“Samantha, look- “

“I’m breaking up with you”

“My mother broke up with my father. I sat upon the steps dumbfounded, I didn’t expect that from their conversation but even then, I didn’t know what to expect. The last of the conversation consisted of my father staying silent and staring at the table as my mom talked important matters to him. She told him that she would stay for the New Years and then move in with a friend in an apartment she found. After that she finished the glass of wine my dad poured for her at the start and left the kitchen when he didn’t have anything to add.

I’m pretty sure that night was the only time I saw my dad cry. He was still in love with her, never ever once thinking of ending their relationship. Never ever once thinking of loving another woman.

 Most children would walk down the stairs they sat on and go comfort their weeping father or at least ask if he was okay. But our relationship was so estranged to the point where I felt no reason to go down and comfort him. He simply was just my father, nothing else nothing more.

I watched him cry silently with his head in his hand as I sat on the steps with my legs close to my chest. I sat there for a few more minutes. I don’t know why I sat there watching for so long. Maybe I was intrigued with the sight, it was something new. A man I’ve know all my life was a mystery to me and now the last sight I might ever see of him is him crying his heart out. But soon enough I got tired, I walked back up to my bedroom and fell asleep to noise of the on going shower my mom was taking downstairs.

The next morning felt cold and unbalanced. The floor was cold to the touch and it was actually closer to noon then morning. The hall was silent as I walked down it and saw at the end of it that my mom was packing a suitcase and a large duffle bag. They were both placed on the bed with an equal amount of folded and unfolded clothes thrown around the two. It was enough to be unable to see the white and blue floral comforter underneath (or I remember it to be enough). I walked into the room and as if I didn’t witness the scene at the kitchen table last night I asked, “Are we going somewhere?”

She was so concentrated with her packing that she jumped startled when she heard my voice. With her hand over her heart, she turned to me with a forced smile (I knew that it was) and spoke words that I will never forget.”

“What were they?” Sebastian asked quietly, his full upper body now laying against the desk where you two sorted files on together almost an hour ago.

You smiled, “Well,

“Sweetheart! You scared me there,” She said, her smile faltering, “No, mommy is going somewhere, alone, but not forever. You’ll have to stay with dad for awhile.” She turned her head away as she folded a few pants and placed them into her suitcase. Then she squatted, and I had to look down to see her face. Her eyes were bloodshot and her lashes wet. I felt her hands on my upper arms as she continued to talk, “Mommy, mommy needs to go find herself for a bit, okay? Not for long but mommy needs this…I love you, eternally and always”

She left the same day with kiss on the forehead, her phone number seared into my mind and a “Be good while I’m gone, I’m a single phone call away”

And then I was there, at my door step, cold and watching as my mom entered her friend’s car with one last kiss blown to me. I caught it and placed it onto my cheek as she drove off. Now it was me and my estranged father and a lot of complex emotions I didn’t know how to decipher or begin to understand at the age of ten.”

You finished, pausing to take a breath for a second while also stretching your aching muscles.

“And then what? What does this have to do with us? With me?” Sebastian asked harshly as he raised himself from the desk.

“Give me a second, I need water and a snack, I’m a bit peckish,” you joked, smirking to him, before continuing, “Ether way, we’re barely getting into the meat of the story. I was just explaining how I got stuck with my father. Now will be getting into what he was doing

behind closed doors…”

And we start rolling, ~

@splatting-stampede

[itsdrawingmen]

We need to talk about Zen.

Every character in Mystic Messenger is a tragic one, and the Casual Story trio is often disregarded in that respect. But there is one character for whom I’ve hardly seen it explored at all. Maybe it’s because his route sucks such major ass, or because he’s honestly a bit of an asshole, misogynistic, homophobic, and ableist; or maybe it’s because his trauma is only briefly, fleetingly mentioned, as he and his friends refer to it, and then quickly brush it aside.

Zen Ryu, beautiful, stupid, and self-absorbed, is, on the surface, a perfect comic relief character, a beloved himbo, brash but well-intentioned. And I think this wonderful actor has been playing that role so well that he has fooled everyone, including the fandom.

Some character exploration and the uncropped art under the cut.

It’s no secret that Zen’s selfishness is nothing but a coping mechanism, masking a deep-set fear of inadequacy and paralysing self-doubt. It’s stated explicitly by Ray in Another Story, and it’s pretty evident from the way Zen is quick to worry there’s nothing more to him than his looks.

It’s obvious where he got it, considering how his mother treated him and his passions, and how his brother turned his back on him when he needed him the most. But there are more things I haven’t seen discussed anywhere, and I have a lot of thoughts and headcanons, and simply questions, so let’s start from the very beginning.

It’s made very clear in Zen’s route that his early life was… well, horrible. As early as kindergarten, he started getting singled out for his looks. Strangers kept staring at him and wanting to touch him, which bothered his mother.

Instead of getting on their child’s side, little Hyun’s parents tried to convince him he was ugly, to ‘humble’ him. It’s said that they just wanted him to be successful and to have a stable, secure life. Well, good intentions pave the road to hell, as it’s said. What they got as a result was a child who was harassed and stalked at school and in the streets with no one to confide in but his brother, who didn’t explicitly dismiss it, but still made light of it.

A little interesting point:

Make a note here of the ‘protection’ line, because I will get back to it later.

Anyway, whatever small support and understanding little Hyun’s brother provided him with, it wasn’t meant to last. Zen states that their parents treated them so differently they effectively separated them.

When he entered middle school and found passion for music, what his mother saw was her son turning to a precarious road and basically undermining his future. When she tried to convince him his dreams were stupid, Hyun’s brother took her side, leaving Hyun without the last person in his family who supported him. So little Hyun ran away from home, and thus began the story of Zen.

And here is where things get interesting. Zen left home when he was in middle school. A middle schooler in South Korea is anywhere between 12 and 15 years old. And a person living on their own must eat something and sleep somewhere. But here’s the catch: you can only rent if you are at least 19 (I’m assuming, Korean-19, so 18), and you can technically work part-time jobs starting at 13, but you need parental permission for that. And for any full-time job you must be 18. And this is the first big question with no easy answer: how did little Hyun survive after he left home? Where did he live, and what did he eat?

We can assume that for a while, he stayed with his friends, whom he for some reason tried to hide from his parents.

However, it would have been problematic for him to make it a long-term arrangement. If his friends were teenagers like him, their parents would be likely to tell his family where he was so that they would come collect their son. And if the friends were older and employed, it’s doubtful they would be well off enough to host a dependent long-term, unless there was something sinister going on. So the question remains: where did he live and what did he eat?

He mentions part-time jobs and extortion as sources of income, he worked night shifts to make ends meet, and there are also the mysterious 'bad things' that we will get back to later. But there are more variables here than just money.

Well, as far as I can tell, the answer to that is right here:

And now, I want you to stop for a moment and think about what this implies.

A child in his early teens (I like to assume 13-14), and a very pretty child at that, with a history of harassment that was never addressed, let alone stopped, finds himself on the street (at this point, we can presume: homeless and hungry). And he catches the eye of gangsters. Perhaps it’s my fresh experience watching ‘Banana Fish’ speaking (definitely not, I've had this conviction basically since I saw 'bad things' mentioned), but I want to really ask you: what do you think gangsters are likely to do with a beautiful and vulnerable young boy, besides use him for petty crimes Zen admits on the screens above? What 'bad things' could he have been forced to do to survive?

This admission by Zen himself doesn’t help my train of thoughts at all:

Of course, this is said in the context of exploitation at work, but given the gangs and the ‘bad things’, one can’t help but draw a connection.

Besides, this is where that screen I told you to take note of comes into play. Zen says that after middle school, he understood what his parents were trying to protect him from, essentially what dangers being pretty entailed. It couldn’t have been the usual harassment that he had been facing since kindergarten, he would have understood that by then. Another interesting point is that for someone with a gangster past, Zen is suspiciously gender nonconforming in his looks, and mellow in general demeanour. Yes, he’s rough around the edges, he’s homophobic, misogynistic, and foul-mouthed, but he isn’t really violent. Someone who used to fit in with gangs, especially as a youth, I would think, looks and acts differently. And this all takes me to a very grim conclusion: I firmly don’t believe that a good-looking and vulnerable child with no support network and with a history of harassment survived in gangs without being molested or sexually exploited once.

But let’s not delve into my headcanons and continue with the facts we have. These bits and pieces that come together to form a picture of Zen’s teenage years already paint a pretty morbid picture. But he made it big, became an actor, and left it all behind, and he’s happy in the canon timeline, right? Right?!

Wrong.

The most obvious thing is the contents of Zen’s fridge, which Jaehee points out when she goes to see him.

It’s referenced many times in the game, Zen lightheartedly says he often skips meals and in general eats pretty badly, and I think even V refers to it. And it’s easy to chalk it up to his insane diets and the expectations of his body and looks that he has to maintain to stay in the industry. Or, if you are a little like me and like to assume the worst, you can also attribute it to Zen’s borderline self-harming workaholism. But I think there’s a little bit more to it, and the key to it is actually where Zen lives.

I remember being a little confused as to why everyone was surprised that Zen lived in a semi-basement.

But I didn’t give it much thought, after all, semi-basements seem to be cheaper here as well, and Zen’s flat looked pretty nice on CGs (if extremely beige). And it wasn’t until recently when I was talking to a colleague about his friend sharing her experience in Korea that I learned that semi-basements were actually a signature dwelling of the poorest, and seemingly a clearly understandable trope for a Korean. Those semi-basement apartments are often at risk of flooding, which is apparently a well-known fact, and also why they’re supposed to be banned as residential quarters. And, of course, Zen is quick to tell everyone he likes that place with poor ventilation and little sunlight, because it’s Zen, after all. He has that working class mentality because he’s cool, and he likes underground apartments and old tech.

But it seems that the picture of his present life is also pretty grim. Now, I’m not in South Korea, and I know little about how theatre actors are paid there, but I can tell you what I know from several actor/actress friends here in Ukraine: theatre actors aren’t, unfortunately, paid shit. Even the ones you recognise and talk about, working in cool popular theatres, drop over half of their salary to rent a shitty apartment, and are left wondering what they’re going to eat. So it seems pretty likely to me that Zen’s empty fridge, old computer and mp3 player, daily subway commute, and semi-basement apartment all point to one simple fact: he’s simply poor.

And to make it worse, he seems to be extremely lonely.

I’m pretty sure he also mentions isolating himself when he’s feeling bad, but I can’t seem to find screenshots for that anywhere.

All that said, when the fandom looks at Zen, they see a self-absorbed himbo, the ‘don’t kill yourself you so sexy aha’ type of guy. And he is, and I think he’s hilarious, and I’m the first one to laugh at him tbh. But when I look at him for a little longer than a second, I see a young man who has been harassed to hell and back starting as early as kindergarten, who never graduated from school, who ran away from home in his early teens, worked multiple jobs, and still had to resort to crime to make ends meet. I see a young man who was once a vulnerable teen at the mercy of gangsters, who had to learn that all help comes with strings attached. And I see a young man struggling silently with poverty while maintaining a facade of a glamorous and charming actor.

And I think the charming actor has fooled everyone.

[dootznbootz]

Can i be honest. I don't get it when people try to use Antigone as a feminist icon or something, or that "She literally died because she didn't listen to man! That's just like us!" Because it's not and we're not living in the 16th century.

And these people are acting like Creon wouldn't have killed her if he was a man. Or that Creon wouldn't have killed her if he was a woman. Like guys, I'm sorry but "Girlboss" feminism is soo annoying.

I saw a post where it's like "Greek mythology male characters: 'He seems chill... Oh he's being a douche to women. Female Greek mythology characters: 'She seem cool... Oh she's getting revenge on the men that wronged her. She's so cool!!"

And in the tags they were hating on Ody for killing the slave girl and calling Medea an icon. Even though Medea killed her two young children just because she was salty at Jason... double standards at their finest, people

Real.

Also people better be mad at Penelope as well if they're mad at Odysseus for the slave girls. She hated them just as much.

Wise Penelope heard his words and rebuked Melantho, saying: “You can be sure, you bold and brazen bitch, that I have seen your shameless acts. You’ll wipe away the stain with your own head. You clearly know full well, because you heard me say it—I’m planning to ask this stranger in my halls some questions about my husband, since I feel such grief.”

(Book 19, Johnston)

People just literally turn a blind eye when the woman also does violence against other women. (Same with Clytemnestra. like sure, she killed Agamemnon but she also screwed up her kids. (one a girl so a lot of these "girlboss" types ideals are contradictory))

And it's really really tough enjoying Medea only to see people "girlboss" her. I love the play. It made me feel so many things but NONE of them were GOOD feelings.

Old meme from a post I made a while back but it sums up my feelings lol.

I think it weirdly comes from this awful wave of "I hate children. Horrible beings. Hope they suffer. etc.etc." bullshit and the girlboss wave :'(

Also um, yeah, Creon would've killed ANYONE who would have buried Polyneices. I've always seen Antigone more as a story of honoring family and a family's love for one another, not so much of a "feminist story". As Creon is like, the opposite of Antigone in how he does not wish to honor his family no matter what and will even have family killed for honoring family.

I weirdly think there's this phenomenon of people seeing stories/myths that simply have women in them, especially if they are "center stage" and then decide that they're feminist regardless of the context.

Like I guess you could say that these stories simply having complex and driven women is feminist (I mean...moreso than most booktok/modern YA novels ;~; where many female leads are very...bland imo) which is very sad that feminism is just the bare minimum of "Hey a woman is a person who is complex."

But it's also like, these women and their meaningful and HUMAN stories are LOST because they're just painted as "girlboss".

I think Antigone would be more like "I mean...I was just trying to bury my brother because I care about him and didn't want to see him left to rot. I would have done it no matter WHAT told me not to." and less about "YASSSS queen SLAY!" shit.

[saltywinteradult]

How is Dany is abusive to Jon?

Honest question, I’ve never given it a thought

I'm sorry this took me so long, anon, and I am really sorry for how long this post got. I had a lot of thoughts on this.

Before we begin, I'd like to point you to this compilation of Jon's reactions to Dany, which hardly paints a picture of a man who is happy and in love, as well as this post and this gifset, both pointing out the parallels between Jon's relationship with Dany and Sansa's relationship with Littlefinger, the latter being a relationship I hope most people can agree is abusive.

It's absolutely crucial to remember that in this relationship, Dany is the person with the power. She is the one with the dragons and the biggest army, and she is willing to both use and abuse that power to get her way.

Furthermore, Dany wants the North's loyalty, but the North needs her help. (The fact that it's Dany's duty as well as in her own best interest to help fight the Others is a different discussion; she doesn't seem to understand this anyway.) She has agreed to grant that help, but she could easily withdraw it if she chooses. She has more power than literally anyone else and there's simply no escaping that power imbalance - it permeates every single interaction Dany has with Jon and all the other Northerners for all of s7 and the first half of s8.

I want you to remember how Dany treats Jon on Dragonstone. His weapons and his boat are taken away immediately upon his arrival. She says Jon is "not yet" her prisoner, but 1) that line very clearly implies that she could make him her prisoner if she chooses to, and 2) how much does it really matter that Jon is "not yet" her prisoner when she's already taken away his means of defending himself or leaving the island? Remember how she later tells him "I haven't given you permission to leave." Girl, what happened to Jon not being your prisoner?

I think it's also very telling that Dany never once addresses Jon by his proper title of King in the North, even before he bends the knee. As you may recall, Dany cares a great deal about titles. She never grants Jon the same respect she demands for herself, and she likes to remind Jon that she is his Queen even during a supposedly intimate, romantic scene.

(Gif by yocalio via gameofthronesdaily)

Earlier in this scene, Dany pointed out that they could stay here in this secluded spot, away from the kingdom and its politics, and no one would find them. Yet even here, away from the rest of the world, she makes a point of referring to herself as "your Queen".

I point all of this out to illustrate that from the very beginning and throughout their relationship, Dany views Jon as a subordinate, not an equal. That is very much not a good foundation for a healthy and equal romantic relationship. Her constant expectation is that Jon will submit, obey, give things up to benefit her, and ensure that the people he has power over act the way she wants.

Case in point:

"Your sister doesn't like me. [...] She doesn't need to be my friend, but I am her Queen. If she can't respect me..."

The implication is that Sansa is doing something wrong by not liking or respecting Dany (meaning "not acting deferential enough for Dany's taste"). The fact that Dany is saying this to Jon and not to Sansa herself implies that it's Jon's responsibility to ensure that Sansa behaves acceptably. "If she can't respect me..." Then what? What exactly is she implying will be the consequences? That their romantic relationship will end? Something worse?

At this point, the North has bent the knee to Dany. As their monarch this is not an entirely unreasonable thing to ask of her subjects - but it's not a very reasonable thing for a girlfriend to ask of her boyfriend, is it? The line between Jon and Dany's political relationship as monarch and subject and their personal relationship as girlfriend and boyfriend isn't just blurred, it's practically nonexistent. To state the obvious, there is a reason we decided that absolute monarchies are bad here in the real world. There is also a reason why a boss dating a subordinate is frowned upon in the real world. Big power imbalances are a bad idea in general and in romantic relationships especially. They should at the very least be considered and navigated carefully. Dany not only fails to do so; she is only happy with her and Jon's relationship when she has power over him.

For proof, let's look at how she reacts when that power imbalance is upended by the revelation of Jon's true identity:

This revelation is a bombshell for Jon. Everything he thought he knew about his own origins turns out to be untrue. However, Dany's first and only thought is how this affects her. Her first reaction is denial and scepticism; the second is to turn cold as soon as she realises that this makes Jon a threat to her ambitions.

There's also this line:

"A secret no one in the world knew, except your brother and your best friend. Doesn't seem strange to you?"

Which implies... What, exactly? That Sam and Bran made this up? Why? Just like with Sansa in the previous scene, we see Dany questioning the actions and intentions of Jon's loved ones. Remember that.

Things escalate in episode 4:

Dany is faced with the notion that Jon might hold more political power than she thought, that they might actually be on somewhat equal footing, and this makes her unhappy.

"I want it to be the way it was between us."

Her desire is to continue their sexual relationship and to return to the previous status quo where she held more power than him and therefore didn't consider him a threat. Jon having a stronger claim to the throne than her threatens Dany's sense of her own identity and purpose, and she reacts by trying to deny and suppress this reality:

"You can say nothing, to anyone, ever! Swear your brother and Samwell Tarly to secrecy and tell no one else! Or it will take on a life of its own and you won't be able to control it or what it does to people!"

(Imagine this with the genders reversed. Yikes.)

Dany is demanding Jon keep his own identity secret from his own family. That's not a reasonable thing to ask of a person you love. Not for one second does she show any consideration for how Jon might feel or what Jon might want. It's all about her. Her expectation is that Jon suppress his own identity, his own reality, to benefit Dany's ambitions. Never once does it seem to occur to Dany that what Jon does with this secret is up to him to decide, not her. His agency is of no concern to her.

Jon: I have to tell Sansa and Arya. Dany: Sansa will want to see me gone and you on the Iron Throne. [...] She's not the girl you grew up with. Not after what she's seen, not after what they've done to her. [...] Jon: They're my family. We can live together. Dany: We can. I've just told you how.

Here we are again with Dany questioning the motives and agendas of Jon's loved ones. Now she's no longer implying but outright stating that they're working against her. What we have here is a pattern of Dany implying that Jon's loved ones are up to no good and can't be trusted. I don't need to explain why that is a dangerous and manipulative thing to do to one's partner, right?

I also want you to pay extra attention to how Emilia delivers that final line. Throughout the whole scene Dany is distraught and desperate, but at this point she turns cold and closed off with an unmistakable anger that Jon won't agree to do as she demands. It is very hard not to read a threatening undertone into that line. "Keep it secret, or else."

Before we move on to episode 5, I'd like to highlight this line, spoken by Dany to Tyrion and Varys in episode 4:

"Speaking to Cersei will not prevent a slaughter. But perhaps it's good the people see that Daenerys Stormborn made every effort to avoid bloodshed, and Cersei Lannister refused. They should know whom to blame when the sky falls down upon them."

Let's be clear on one thing here: Cersei could choose to back down and surrender to avoid bloodshed - but, and I cannot stress this enough, so could Dany. Cersei and Dany are both being selfish and power-hungry by refusing to give up the throne in order to avoid bloodshed. But to admit that would ruin Dany's deeply rooted self-image as morally superior to her enemies. So what does she do instead? She deflects blame. She's the one with the dragons, but if she makes the sky fall down on people, as she puts it, it's not her fault. Keep that in mind.

Now for the absolute low point:

"What did I say would happen if you told your sister? [...] She betrayed your trust. She killed Varys as much as I did. This was a victory for her. Now she knows what happens when people hear the truth about you."

Okay. Varys was conspiring against Dany, which he could've chosen not to do; I guess Dany was within her rights to punish him. She still could've chosen to imprison him, or at least give him a trial. Nobody made her kill him. But as we've just seen, Dany doesn't like to accept responsibility for her own decisions. She'd rather deflect the blame onto the people who displease her.

What's more, she's not just blaming Sansa for Varys's death but Jon as well, for telling Sansa the secret in the first place - which Jon was well within his rights to do! He never agreed not to tell anyone. That wasn't up to Dany to decide in the first place. Jon did what he wanted to do and not what she wanted him to do, so now everything Dany does as a result of Jon's actions is Jon's fault? Do I even need to explain how shitty this is?

"Far more people in Westeros love you than love me. I don't have love here. I only have fear."

This is entirely true. She never stops to think about why Jon is more beloved in Westeros than she is, but whatever. What's important is that after this, Dany initiates a kiss and Jon rebuffs her.

(Gifs from snowsource)

"Alright then. Let it be fear."

Again, what exactly do we think she's implying here? Remember the context. During this conversation, Jon already told her "you will always be my queen". He hasn't rejected her as his queen (which at this point he damn well should), he's just rejecting her sexual advances. And yet, Dany's reaction to his personal rejection of her is to embrace "fear", which again refers to how all of Westeros sees her, not just Jon. Dany already deflected blame for her previous actions onto people who displeased her including Jon, and now she's deflecting the blame for her future actions in the same way. And we all know what she did after this, don't we? I don't know how the line "let it be fear" can mean anything other than "you rejected me and that's why I'm going to embrace being feared, so whatever I do now in the name of being feared is really your fault. Look what you made me do." If that isn't abuse, I don't know what is.

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰

🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼

🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟

📖📖📖📖

all blues again i guess!

YEAH! Although the loop is purple for me. Oh well!

24 for ➰

Tagging @steadfastsaturnsrings

---

“Do I die the most often?” Buck asks. 

Eddie’s eyes lose their sleepy quality. 

“What?”

“On the go-arounds,” Buck clarifies. “If we mess up the timeline, is it usually me who dies?”

Eddie swallows. He rubs his eyes.

“It’s random,” Eddie says. “I haven’t counted.”

“But if you had to guess, who is it most often?” Buck asks. 

“Okay,” Eddie sighs. “Yeah. Maybe you. You’re the clumsiest.”

Okay, well that’s… Yeah. Fair. Give Buck an opportunity to trip and he’ll take it. He thinks of all the ways he can remember dying outside of the restaurant. The rocks, he did fall. Okay, clumsiness. The car, he was distracted, arguing with Eddie. 

---

30 for 🔼:

---

She still wants a divorce. Still doesn’t want him. Might prefer to have Buck. And hell, he understands that. He would, too, if he were her. But he’s here and he knows her and he can make her feel good and he needs this, too. 

Shannon gets the message. 

She closes the remaining space between them and before Eddie knows it, they’re kissing. The same way they’ve always kissed. Frantic and hungry and full of as much need as love. It’s the only thing they’ve both always been good at at the same time. Eddie feels a wash of relief crash over him at things falling back into place, even if only for a moment. 

They kiss, and everything is good again. Everything feels like home. 

They kiss, and he’s here with her. He’s here with her, but he’s also wondering. Wondering what kissing Buck was like. Imagining him, standing just behind Eddie. Lips ghosting at the back of his neck. Eddie could drown in the moment; the blend of reality and fantasy.

He lifts her. Takes them both to her bedroom. Starts undressing her as he sets her on the bed. It’s easy for him to maneuver her. Something he knows she’d liked a lot when they got back together. At the height of their relationship together - when they were kids, at their best - he hadn’t been nearly as strong as he is now. And then he got stronger, but he was gone. And when he was back, they hardly touched each other. But he can do this for her now. He can be strong.

---

15 for 🧟:

---

Hen might be the luckiest person in the whole apocalypse. She knows this. Without a doubt, she understands this. Never forgets to count her damn blessings. Everyone has lost someone. Even her. Most people have lost everything. But here Hen is, with her wife and son, safe and secure, and honestly? Happy. Very happy. 

Could life be less dangerous and insecure? Yes. Would she prefer no zombie apocalypse? Obviously. Does she worry about her son’s future constantly? For sure. 

---

12 for 📖:

---

So things are good. No complaints. And if Buck feels that age old loneliness creeping over him, he ignores it. He’s still got more than he’s ever had. 

2019

vi. 

The first time Buck sees Eddie and Christopher after the Christmas holidays, there’s a woman with them. Which is fine. Totally fine. Buck has no reason to feel a tight knot in his stomach, so he simply doesn’t. Whatever.

“Buck, this is my mom!” Christopher introduces them excitedly. “Mom, this is the best librarian in the whole world, Buck.”

[helslastangel]

Observation of asteroids in my natal chart, pt. 1

Felt like looking going over these in my chart and thought I'd share my interpretations. These are personal observations; if it doesn't apply, let it fly. Also I am in love with Nairobi, I might rewatch Money Heist just for her tbh lol.

Abundantia (151) in 5H Scorpio 2° & conjunct Venus 3°

You may experience good luck and prosperity in love matters and creative endeavors. You are sensual in the way you express yourself and seek comfort and stability in your encounters. You seek relationships in which you can speak freely and enjoy each other's minds and usually do find them.

Academia (829) in 6H Sagittarius 14°

You may have a scattered or piecemeal approach to higher education and learning. You want to know about everything but do not have patience for the the slow and steady part of research and mastering a subject, UNLESS the topic is of exceptional interest to you (and stays that way). Excessively dull routines can make you ill.

Adonis (2101) in Scorpio 5H at 19°

You attract and are drawn to deep and intense expressions of beauty and passion. Without depth, challenge and complexity, you are simply not interested. You like to enjoy life and have fun as much as the next person, but your interests often lean towards things that serve the duel purpose of bringing pleasure while healing pain. With Scorpio on the cusp of the 5th house at a Scorpio degree, this energy is magnified. You are likely a highly creative person with a complicated relationship to love, attraction and what you find personally compelling. You're attracted to sensitive, emotional people with an appreciation for the things that lie below the surface in life. This is too much intensity for most people and it is not often that you meet people who interest you beyond basic friendship. When you do find someone who awakens your desire, however, a lusty, romantic side you normally keep private comes out to play. You can become obsessed with them if you don't manage your emotions well.

Amor (1221) in Aries 10H at 17°

You are very loving, though somewhat blunt or direct in the way you show affection or approach romantic love. Challenges are attractive to you and you're attracted to people who won't back down from them - even if you're the problem. Lol! You love the concept of being in a power couple, but maintaining it could become tedious if you lose interest and want to change the aesthetic. You're attracted to stable, forward-thinking partners who are not easily intimidated and can help to reign in your more impulsive tendencies.

𓆩♡𓆪

↤ go back to the masterlist

[izzylegrand]

The Night Before

Five Hargreeves x(?) Reader . Part 1/?

Warnings: second person, adopted siblings, reader is an umbrella academy member, unreciprocated love(by reader)

_________________________________________________

There he was. Five. Back like he’d never left at all.

We all were crowded around him, watching him casually mousy around the kitchen to make a sandwich as if it was any other day. As if he hadn’t just fallen from the sky like an omen after six years of being missing.

The other students were talking to him but I didn’t hear a word. I was just staring. He’d been missing from our lives for six years after being woven so well he was involved of every aspect of it. He wasn’t here for Ben’s death, he wasn’t hear for all the fighting after Vik’s book, he was just…gone.

That night, the night before…before he ran away, he talked to me.

Me and Five were always a bit closer than I was with the other siblings. He was an ass, sure, but I knew he had my back. I could trust him.

That night I was laying in bed when the door creaked open. The lamp turned on and I saw Five. I sat up against the headboard and he came to sit on the foot of my bed, both of us facing each other with our legs crossed, a common routine.

“What’s up?” I whispered

“Dad’s pissing me off again. He’s such an ass. He thinks he knows everything, but he doesn’t.”

I laughed and leaned back against the headboard

“This is about time travel again, isn’t it?”

“It’s my power, not his, so how the hell would he have any say in when I should use it?? It’s not like he can do it. Why’s he so sure I can’t?”

“I think he doesn’t understand it so he wants you to stay away. It’s him protecting you…probably.” I shrugged

Honestly, we’d had that conversation too many times. I sat there wishing he would just get over it. The irony of that is, I would spend the next six years wishing to have any conversation with him again.

I expected him to keep complaining but he didn’t. He grabbed my hand and rubbed his thumb against the back of it, his eyes looking tenderly in mine.

“I want to time travel, Eight. I’m going to. I want you to come with me. We can go somewhere—sometime where dad won’t be able to control us! We can be together, without everyone else.”

I just stared completely frozen. I couldn’t see my face but I could only attribute it to a deer in the headlights look. There was a thick silence for a moment and it felt like my heart was higher in my chest, like everything was about to change.

He leaned in slowly and pressed his lips to mine. I wouldn’t call it a kiss. He probably didn’t know what kissing was and just took it as how he’d read it in some book. It was the most literal definition, simply pressing his lips to mine.

“Come with me.” He whispered

“I-I”

He pulled away and started to look angry. He was never angry at me but he was then. He was angry I didn’t agree immediately. He was angry I didn’t feel the same. I wanted to feel the same, but I didn’t.

“Five…we’re siblings…”

“No we’re not! You know we’re not! Don’t say crap like that!” He whispered angrily

“We might as well be. We have the same parents, grew up together, everyone calls us siblings—“

“But we’re not!” He interjected “I don’t love you like that!”

I looked at him solemnly.

There was a thick silence for a moment and it felt like my heart was higher in my chest, like everything was about to change.

“…Five, I don’t love you like that…” I whispered, my voice wavering with the threat of tears

After that, he stormed out. That was the last thing I said to him. The next morning he wouldn’t talk to me. At breakfast, he stabbed a knife in the table and declared that he wanted to time travel. Everyone just sat and silently stared while he ran off, never to be seen again.

Until today. Until now. Now, where I sat and silently stared while he gave uninterested responses to good questions. Then he looked at me. He was older now but his eyes looked the same as that night. With one stare he answered the question that had been panging in my head since he left: Was it my fault?

“Eight, I want to talk to you privately.”

_________________________________________________

A/N: Hi!!! I haven’t written a story in years so sorry for however it turned out :’) I was going to just make this a one parter but then I realized how long the flashback was so…sorry.

[blueskiestarot]

💜 Update 💜

Hi, friends. Sorry I haven't been very active on here the last few days. I know I have asks and messages to answer. I'll be getting to those shortly and I have a new PAC reading I'm going to be uploading soon. I also have a few paid orders left to complete. I'll get those sent out within the next couple of days. I just want to thank everyone for being so patient with me!

I just want to apologize ahead of time if I'm a bit slower with uploads or replies this week. I'm going to try to stay on track as much as possible but my energy is kind of all over the place right now. I've been on a bit of an emotional rollercoaster the last few days.

(You totally don't have to read this if you don't want to since it's just an update about what's going on in my personal life. I put it under a "read more" tab in case you want to skip. 💜)

I got some pretty bad news on Friday. I took my dog to the vet and found out that his heart is enlarged and is now failing him. Thankfully, the vet said it's in the early stages and he thinks it will respond well to treatment. So, he's on meds and he's already showing improvement. However, this diagnosis means that this is the last stage of his life. He's pretty much on doggy hospice now. So, the meds are just to manage his symptoms and keep him comfortable. Because of that, it's hard to know how long I have left with him. It could be 6 months or a few years. I'm hopeful just because of how well he's responding to his meds already but I'm still worried sick about him and the anticipatory grief freaking sucks. It's just been a lot to process. So, I do thank you all for being patient with me.

Please send us any love, prayers, or good vibes you can! We definitely need them! I appreciate you all so so much! Y'all may not know it but you are such a huge support system for me. Your messages make my day and I love interacting with you all. I truly do consider you my friends. So, please keep reaching out whether it's to suggest new PACs, ask for advice, or just to simply tell me about your day. I may not answer right away but I always love connecting with you all and I will answer as soon as I can! I hope everyone has a good rest of their week! 💛 Love, Tara

[itsnathateasy]

Armin Week | Day 4 | SFW Prompts | Childhood OR Friends to Lovers

word count: 836 warnings: none author’s note: i made myself suffer with this one

@armin-week-2024

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

armin is the type of man i can imagine you to be in love with for a million years

like had you known each other as kids, it’s high likely that you’d hang out, you’d always be so impressed by his knowledge and soft demeanour, you can never resist a sweet friend like armin, the cute boy, never causes trouble, is shy and probably needs to man up a bit but he’s so smart that he knows he has to stand up for himself but he often doesn’t see the point to it, knowing how he’s significantly smaller than the boys that pick on him

growing up, armin is slowly transforming into something else. his body has become more muscular with age and the loads of training he’s been through but that’s not half of the change. armin now not only has an opinion, he also expresses it. you’re doomed if you don’t let him speak up, as he has the greatest comebacks. all his years of studying and learning about the world have paid off, now there’s not one person out there to ever go against him. they can try, but those who picked on him and those that think of him as less than them will probably regret speaking against him or disagreeing with him. if they’ve a point to make, armin listens with respect, but if they’re just being obnoxious, armin is quick to point it out and tolerates zero of their bullshit. armin was growing up to not only be a person you loved with all of your heart, but to a person that you admired and respected to the fullest.

all the while, you’ve become an even closer friend, a companion if you will, watching him, growing with him, learning his deepest thoughts and sharing dreams, aspirations and all of the awkward confessions of the growing up process. but it isn’t until much later that you realise you’ve been pining for him for years and years and you didn’t even know.

armin is good with the ladies now too. sure, he’s not everyone’s cup of tea, but once he starts talking them up, he’s so respectful and brainy that no girl has ever denied him, he’s having them smile back and forth, makes them weak in the knees.

armin however, seems to be oblivious to all these changes. he doesn’t know how his shoulders are now broader or that his once tiny palms that you used to hold on to when running through the streets, are now tough and thick, often calloused by working his odm and weapons.

he also seems to be oblivious to his feelings, as well as yours. so when you once sat down for one of your usual late night talks, he confesses that he doesn’t know why he never truly likes other girls. they may be fun and pretty and he’s attracted to them, but he can never think how the rest of the story goes with them, because it simply doesn’t work out in his head.

“maybe there’s something wrong with me too armin because i keep thinking the same. is it normal to never have been in a relationship in our age?”

“i’m sure it’s normal… it might be uncommon though”.

there’s was a silence between you, a familiar one. you dont need to speak to know the other person is there. “you might be the only person i can see myself with” he utters out of nowhere. “we’ve been friends for so long though, it must be why i always brushed it off. it’s difficult to differentiate between the love i have for you and the love i may have for a future partner”. you were left inspecting his face in the dark, your eyebrows furrowed. the warm light coming from the fire in front of you highlighted the colour of his hair and made his eyes more prominent. when did armin become this handsome???

“what are you saying armin? we should be together because you can’t settle with anyone else?” the hurt in your voice was obvious. you kept looking into his eyes, hoping to catch any glimpse of a lie. armin wasn’t one to lie, especially not for such matters, especially not to you.

lifting the hand that he previously rested on his knee, he placed it on yours softly, his touch was almost weightless. “on the contrary. i’m saying i can’t be with anyone because i’m in love with you. frankly, i think i’ve been for a while”. he’s hand now rubbing and gripping at your knee slightly, eyes boring into yours. whatever doubt you had a few seconds prior had completely vanished. “frankly, i think i have been in love with you for a while too” you said as you placed your palm to touch his own, soft smiles appearing on your faces. armin moved his other hand to sweetly poke your cheek, resulting in you squirming backwards, smiling even wider than before. “let’s do it then” he suggested.

[ihaznoclue]

Hello! Please could I maybe request Lycaon with a fox hybrid reader (or something like that lol) who has a habit of stealing things🙏

I am so sorry I totally forgot I had this request in my Inbox but I think you requested while my requests were close.. But I'm still going to do it anyways

Pairings -> Von Lycaon x Fox hybrid Reader

Warnings -> None

Note -> Just Reader having the habit of stealing things

Genre -> Fluff

Von Lycaon

Okay so we all know that he use to steal in the past when he was with his old friend vampire dude

So I feel like he would be the type to help you get out of that habit of stealing stuff from people since he knows how it feels

So he decided to help you on that

This man would always try to keep an eye on you when you guys are out

Like you were very good at hiding the fact that you were stealing some stuff from places or people

He knows just because of your fox feature which are your ears and tail

so whenever he asks if you stole something you tail would twitch in response and when you said you didn't your ears were flatten

He would always give back that item to the pervious person you stole from

or if you stole from a place he would simply apologies and puts it back

When guys are back in his mansion

He would most definitely give you lectures on to why you don't need to steal anymore

He would say that he use to steal as well but got out of that habit so he knows its possible for you as well

It just takes some time for you

-A<3

[sourmaybank]

Chapter Five: Trick or Treat, Freak

Eddie Munson x OC!Reader || WC: 2.2k

A/N: this chapter is definitely my favorite one that I've written for this series! I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I loved writing it! This made me realize I'm SO ready for Halloween! 🎃

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"That's your costume?" Max's eyes were wide, a mix of surprise and the typical candor that Lyra had come to expect. There was no malice there, just the blunt honesty. Taken aback but not entirely shocked by her bluntness, Lyra's gaze dropped to her last-minute costume. The leather clung to her like a second skin, the fishnets adding a layer of punk rock chic that she had thought was perfect for the night.

Yet, seeing herself through her sister's eyes, she couldn't help the grimace that tugged at her lips. "It's that bad?" Her voice was a soft echo of doubt amidst the certainty of her sister's judgment. Max simply shrugged. "Neil's going to freak when he sees that nose ring." There was a hint of amusement in her tone, the kind that suggested she was picturing the scene already.

Lyra reached up instinctively, her fingers grazing the small, gold hoop that adorned her right nostril. It was a bold choice, but it was also a harmless rebellion. "It's fake." She replied quickly, the defense a knee-jerk reaction to the implied criticism. The nose ring was just another part of the costume, a temporary addition to her look that could be removed with the same ease as the leather jacket that hung off her shoulders.

It was all part of the night's facade, a character she could put on and take off at will. But for a moment, under her sister's scrutinizing gaze, it felt almost real. "You and Billy could be twins." Although she knew the redhead meant it as a joke, Lyra's stomach twisted into knots thinking back to what had happened a few hours prior. Max's voice cut through her reverie, pragmatic and laced with concern.

"So I take it you're still going to that party?" Lyra nodded, feeling the weight of responsibility settle on her shoulders. "You know I have to go, Max. Billy's a completely different person when he's high and wasted," She sighed, her voice tinged with a mix of resignation and protectiveness. It wasn't just a party for her; it was a mission to keep her brother safe from his excesses.

Max's expression softened, her teasing demeanor giving way to sisterly affection. "Just...be careful, okay?" She urged, reaching out to squeeze Lyra's hand. Lyra offered a small, determined smile. "Always am," She replied, though the promise felt as flimsy as the fake nose ring she wore. Tonight, she'd be the guardian angel dressed in devil's clothing, watching over her brother, hoping the night would end with nothing more than a hangover and a few good stories.

After trudging through the neighborhood for what felt like miles, their shoes scuffing against the cracked sidewalks lined with jack-o'-lanterns, Max turned to Lyra with a reassuring smile. "I'll be fine Trick-Or-Treating on my own if you want to go to the party. Knowing Billy he's already there." Lyra bit her lip, the streetlights casting long shadows as costumed children darted past them, their laughter a stark contrast to the unease knotting her insides.

She wasn't fond of the idea, the protective streak in her always on high alert during nights like these. Max could see the hesitation dancing in Lyra's eyes, the way she clutched her candy bag a little tighter. With a playful roll of her eyes and a dramatic sigh, Max launched into a full-on campaign. She promised she'd stick to well-lit streets, and, most importantly, be back before Niel got home.

After what seemed like an eternity of bargaining, Lyra's resolve began to crumble like the leaves beneath their feet. With a final, half-hearted grumble, she caved, extracting one last pinky promise from Max that she'd stay alert and stay safe. Lyra watched her sister disappear into the sea of costumes, the weight of worry settling in her chest. With a sigh that misted in the chilly night air, she reached into her jacket pocket, her fingers brushing against the crumpled edges of the orange flyer that had been burning a hole there all evening.

She unfolded it with trepidation, the bold letters announcing the party she dreaded. Unlike her brother, who seemed to thrive in the chaos of loud music and raucous laughter, Lyra found no joy in such gatherings. The very thought of the noise and the crowds made her skin crawl. But the image of Billy, with a drink in hand and his judgment clouded, forced a knot of anxiety to tighten in her throat. Their argument earlier that day replayed in her mind, the harsh words still echoing.

Despite their spat, her protective instincts wouldn't allow her to turn a blind eye. Especially not when she knew all too well the kind of trouble Billy could find—or cause—when alcohol loomed over him like a puppeteer. And if he didn't have her there to keep him in check, he'd either land himself in a situation they'd all regret, or worse, he'd come home to face their father's temper alone. The mere thought sent a wave of nausea through Lyra, her stomach plummeting. 

She knew what she had to do.

As the crowd mingled in the front yard of Tina's house, ranging from Cobra Kai to Madonna lookalikes—the rumble of a motorcycle engine cut through the chatter. Heads turned as Lyra made her grand entrance, the engine of her cherry-red motorcycle purring like a beast ready to pounce. She pulled off her helmet, releasing a cascade of dirty blonde waves that caught the moonlight just right, giving her an almost ethereal glow. As she kicked the stand down and swung her leg over the bike, the crowd's awe was palpable.

Whispers and murmurs spread like wildfire, and for a moment, it felt as if time had slowed down just for her. Lyra's confidence was magnetic, her presence commanding the attention of everyone around her. She tossed her helmet under her arm and strutted towards the party, her smile a mix of daring and delight.

The partygoer's eyes followed her every move as she walked past. As Lyra made her way through the front door, the chaos of the party hit her like a tidal wave. The house was teeming with teenagers whose inhibitions had been left at the doorstep. Raucous laughter and shouts filled the air, punctuated by the occasional pop of a beer can opening. She sidestepped a couple who were far too engrossed in each other to notice her, their lips locked in a fervent embrace against the living room wall.

Everywhere she looked, there were scenes of revelry and abandon: groups of friends clustered together, some dancing with abandon to the thumping bass that vibrated through the floorboards, others engaged in animated conversation that was mostly yelling to be heard over the music. The floor was a graveyard of empty beer cans and red solo cups, discarded without a second thought by hands eager for the next drink.

Lyra's eyes darted from face to face, searching for the familiar contours of Billy's features, but he was nowhere to be seen within the crowded rooms. The knot of worry in her chest pulled tighter with each passing second. Then, a commotion from the backyard caught her attention the unmistakable sound of a ruckus that Billy was so adept at causing. Deciding to momentarily ignore it, she walked over toward the kitchen island hoping to find a non-alcoholic drink.

Instead, she found a punch bowl that looked a little too intimidating for her taste. "Care for a drink?" A tall sandy-blonde guy in a football jersey asked, catching her off guard. She quickly shook her head, hoping he would get the message and move along. Upon noticing the helmet tucked under her arm, the sandy-blonde boy made the connection. "Shit, so you're the chick that owns the Yamaha FZR600 parked outside." Lyra nodded, surprised that her arrival had already become a topic of conversation in such a short amount of time.

With a confident smile, he introduced himself as James, clearly trying to make a good impression. "And what's your name, gorgeous?" He asked, stepping closer. "We've met before." She responded nonchalantly waiting for the jock to recall their encounter in the hallway. She watched as he quickly made the connection once more. "I remember you," He smirked, his tone dripping with flirtation. "It was pretty hot seeing you all fired up." She couldn't help but roll her eyes at his comment, not impressed by his choice of conversation.

However, James was completely oblivious to her lack of interest. "Over Byers, though?" He laughed, making Lyra clench her jaw in annoyance. "Shit, he's just as much of a freak as Munson," Lyra rolled her eyes. "Believe me, you don't want to be seen around them. They're not worth your time, gorgeous." She didn't have a chance to respond due to immediately spotting Billy stride across the room, a look of determination written all over his features. She saw her brother corner a brunette boy, their standoff radiating of testosterone.

"We've got ourselves a new Keg King, Harrington." She overheard one of the guys cheer tauntingly. "Suck it, King Steve." Another teased making a triumphant smirk appear on Billy's face. She could only guess that he was the 'King Steve' whom Billy had dethroned. Suddenly, Billy's eyes locked with Lyra's from across the crowded room, and a protective glint sparked in his gaze as he noticed James lingering nearby. Giving Steve, one final glare, Billy made his way over to his sister, not even acknowledging James with a word. "Beat it," He grumbled, his tone leaving no room for negotiation.

Lyra couldn't help but stifle a laugh as she watched the jock grab a nearby beer and saunter off, clearly intimidated by Billy's presence. The silence between Billy and Lyra felt heavy, as if they were both searching for the right words to say. Finally, Billy broke the silence, his eyes falling on the helmet in Lyra's grasp. "You brought the motorcycle?" He questioned, a mix of surprise and curiosity in his voice. 

Lyra shrugged nonchalantly. "Well, I wasn't gonna walk," She scoffed, reaching for a rogue water bottle on the counter. Billy couldn't help but comment on Lyra's attire, raising an eyebrow. "Dressed like that?" He deadpanned. Lyra's defenses immediately went up. "What the hell's that supposed to mean?" She scoffed, her tone defensive. Billy let out a frustrated sigh, a cigarette hanging from his lips. "No surprise that dirtbag was hittin' on you. You're lucky I saw you in time," He mumbled, his concern evident. Lyra's frustration grew.

"I've told you several times before, I can take care of myself," She retorted which made Billy scoff. Fed up with the tension, Lyra couldn't help but snap, growing tired of his attitude that was giving her whiplash. "You know what, screw you. Go back to doing whatever the hell you were doing before I got here." She growled, her frustration boiling over. But before she could storm off, Billy reached out, his hand circling her wrist. "Lyra, wait," He called out, his voice filled with a mix of regret. "Can we just forget about all this? Just have a reckless night for once?" He motioned vaguely between the two of them.

Lyra looked at him, her expression softening. "This?" She questioned, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "I only came to this stupid party because I didn't want you to get in trouble with Dad. Even if we fought, some part of me wanted to make sure you didn't do anything stupid. So, forgive me for looking out for you." She huffed in frustration and anger. Lyra felt the sting of tears threatening to spill, a mix of emotions swirling within her. 

She didn't know whether the tears were for the sun-soaked memories of California. Or whether they were born from the unfamiliar strain between her and Billy. A strain that had been absent in their lives until they found themselves in the strange, unsettling world of Hawkins. "Sunshine-" Lyra's heart clenched at the nickname, a vestige of a simpler time. She shook her head, trying to ignore the warmth that spread through her despite the coldness she wanted to project.

"You're forgiven," Her voice was barely above a whisper, betraying the turmoil inside her. "I—I just need some air." She didn't linger to catch the look of relief that flickered across Billy's face, nor did she stay to see it quickly replaced by the familiar shadow of remorse. She pushed through the door, stepping out into the night where the chill wrapped around her like a much-needed embrace.

[blujayonthewing]

myrkul: hi I'm an unambiguously evil death god of cruelty and suffering who has never had anything to do with you until right this moment, would you like to align yourself with me in exchange for the power to win this midtier combat you're already in the middle of winning and no other clear benefits whatsoever

eachthighern: um hey hi it's me your current patron, you know, the good god of protection and light who has only ever given you unwavering strength and hope and support through all your darkest hours and also extraordinarily powerful magic powers and the ability to heal? I am still here and have never stopped being here and I love you very specifically and personally? remember?

the warlock: hmm..... hmmmmmmm

[gingermintpepper]

I saw it in your tag game post that you're also fond of the Apollo-Heracles conflict 👀 for a myth that appears in only a couple of sources, it sure has a lot of presence in the vase paintings (no seriously, everytime I think I've seen the last of it, I find ten more)

SO do you have any favorites among the paintings that represent this story??

OMG OMG THIS ASK IS A GIFT. IT IS A GIFT THANK YOU VERY MUCH FOR LETTING ME TALK ABOUT THIS

I also think it's extremely interesting that it's a story so popularly portrayed by vase paintings and in such a variety of ways!! It's certainly one of the stories that gets left out of written compilation of Heracles' legend a bit (which is a shame, I think it's a fantastic story) but Apollo had a very peculiar relationship with Heracles in general that I just kind of find amazing (and very, very funny).

Apollo is not a god with any legitimate grudge against Heracles, but he does argue with the mortal a bit like he argues with his favourite brothers 😂Part of why I love the story of Apollo and Heracles fighting over the tripod so much is that it is such a little brother thing for Heracles to be upset with the proclamation his elder brother has given him and so, he throws a great fit, taking up the chair and declaring that he'll just give himself a better prophecy! And Apollo, instead of being a marginally professional big brother, decides to fight him for it until their father has to break up their cat-fight. Like was that not just the plot of the Homeric Hymn to Hermes? Is this not exactly how Apollo treated Hermes when he was a child and now those two are inseparable? 💀

Because of this, my favourite vase paintings tend to be the ones that highlight the personal squabbling between Apollo and Heracles the most. There are some very elaborate ones that have the full host of them - Athena, Heracles, Apollo, Artemis, usually a dog and a doe, I've even seen a couple that had birds and plants etched on them, but the simplest ones that show Heracles about to bonk Apollo with his club out of frustration or depict Heracles nyooming away from Apollo while Apollo (presumably) yells curses about how he's going to fling Heracles head first into Tartarus for daring to take his things? Yeah, those are the premium big brother/little brother things I'm looking for.

(Photo. Marie-Lan Ngyuen)

(Photo. Museo Claudio Faina)

Also the one in the Theoi.com archives is a real classic - perfect energy.