#embarcation

[fidjiefidjie]

😁 Timing parfait !👍🤣

« Yanagawa River » 🛶 🇯🇵 Les conducteurs d’embarcations ont le sens du spectacle !

🎥 chotiijp

Source :LMPositif

Bel après-midi 👋

[walker-diaries]

[marinesbt]

⚡ Panneaux d’Interrupteur : Le Cerveau Électrique de Votre Bateau! 🚤🔌

Les panneaux d’interrupteur sont des éléments clés du système électrique de votre embarcation. Ils permettent de gérer et de contrôler l’alimentation électrique à bord, garantissant ainsi un fonctionnement optimal des équipements essentiels tels que l’éclairage, les pompes, la navigation et bien plus encore.

🔹 Pourquoi un bon panneau d’interrupteur est indispensable ?

✅ Contrôle centralisé pour une gestion efficace de l’énergie à bord. ✅ Sécurité améliorée avec des fusibles et disjoncteurs intégrés. ✅ Installation facile et durable, adaptée aux environnements marins. ✅ Design moderne et ergonomique pour une utilisation intuitive.

Avec un panneau d’interrupteur de qualité, prenez le contrôle total de l’alimentation électrique de votre bateau et naviguez en toute tranquillité ! 🌊⚓

[shoot-i-messed-up]

might publsih the last two chapters of Embarcation at the same time tbh. or maybe one tonight and one tomorrow night. the last one is so short so idk…

[gardensnakie]

He's not as scary as he used to be, he cant even get Basil to flinch anymore. It makes him feel foolish

[puppyfatdoll]

I'm tired of living in fantasy of a loving family. I'm sick of reconstructing reality to make it through the day. If they want to foster nothing but misery, they can burn in the hell they made. And leave me out.

They disgust me. I'm tired of denying reality and being docile.

[b0la-very-fresca]

youre not scary, at least not for me who shares a similar level of insanity over him, is like having a friend in the mental asylum

hey moots you aren't scared of me are you. i'm not scary right. i'm not trying to be so please dont be scared of me 💔 i swear i only talk about tomura and i know i'm not totally normal about him but i hope the way i talk abt him doesnt scare you guys 💔💔💔 but generally i js hope the way i talk isn't scary at all

[insomniac4000]

Three Peaks-ChrisMD

I had to write this after the video yesterday despite having some requests still in and writing a Charity match fic....

The brisk morning air bit at Chris’s cheeks as he tightened the straps on his hiking backpack. Standing in the shadow of Ben Nevis, the highest peak in Scotland, the mountain loomed like a gray giant, its summit lost in a wisp of cloud. Chris had his hands clasped in front of him as he always did when he did the introductions to his video, addressing the camera ready to capture the beginning of what he hoped would be one of his second channel’s most ambitious videos yet. He was slightly nervous as it was a shift from his usual football content.

“Alright, lads and lady,” Chris called, spinning to face the group with his usual boyish grin. “Let’s get the obligatory intro out of the way before we regret ever agreeing to this.”

“That’s just every ChrisMD video ever,” ArthurTV clapped back causing laughs and jeers from the group, the group being; Harry Lewis who had already taken the role of morale officer, cracking jokes about the group’s preparedness—or lack thereof. Arthur Hill, visibly unsure about what he’d signed up for, leaned heavily on his walking poles, a sheepish smile on his face. ArthurTV and George Clarkeey exchanged knowing glances, already anticipating chaos. ReevHD was characteristically quiet, scanning the trail ahead with determination like he did with every challenge.

And then there was Y/n.

Chris tried not to let his gaze linger on her, but it was impossible not to notice how effortlessly she seemed to fit into the moment. At 5'2", she was dwarfed by the towering peaks around them, but her petite frame radiated confidence. Her auburn curls were tied up in a high pony tail but already a slight bit of frizz was poking out from the tie, showing her imperfections she embarced and her hazel eyes sparkled with a mix of excitement and mischief.

“Ready to prove short people can climb mountains too?” Y/n teased, catching Chris’s eye.

“Short people?” Harry cut in with mock horror. “You and Chris barely make one normal-sized person!”

The others burst into laughter as Chris groaned. “Here we go,” he muttered, though he couldn’t help but smile.

“Team Hobbit in full force,” George added, slinging an arm around Chris’s shoulders. “Shire squad, reporting for duty.”

Y/n rolled her eyes but played along, giving Chris a playful nudge. “Come on, Frodo, let’s show them how it’s done.”

The group set off, their boots crunching against the ground. The first leg of the journey was deceptively easy, winding through forests and open meadows. Chris found himself falling into step beside Y/n, their conversation flowing as naturally as the babbling brooks they passed.

“This should be a doddle for you considering your videos,” Chris said, stealing a sideways glance at her. “Any near-death experiences you haven’t told me about yet?”

Y/n chuckled, adjusting her backpack. “Oh, plenty. But I’ll save those stories for when we’re at the summit. You know, motivation to keep climbing.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Chris replied, his smile lingering.

Behind them, Harry and George were already trying to outpace each other, their competitive streaks on full display. Arthur Hill lagged slightly, his breath coming in short gasps.

“You alright back there, Arthur?” Reev called, slowing his pace to check on him.

“Still alive,” Arthur wheezed, earning a round of good-natured laughs.

As the group ascended, the trail grew steeper and more rugged, rocks jutted out at awkward angles.Y/n, used to navigating tricky terrain from her travels, moved with practiced ease, her short legs propelling her upward with surprising speed.

“Alright, we get it,” George said, feigning exasperation as Y/n waited for the rest of them at a particularly steep section. “You’re secretly a mountain goat.”

“Just embrace your inner hobbit,” Y/n shot back, grinning.

“Speaking of hobbits,” Harry said, glancing at Chris, “you keeping up, mate? Or do we need to carry you?”

“Funny,” Chris replied, though he was grateful for the excuse to slow his pace. Y/n waited for him, her expression softening.

“You’re doing great,” she said quietly, her voice carrying only to him.

Chris felt his chest tighten, but he pushed the feeling aside. “Thanks,” he managed, giving her a small smile.

By the time they reached the halfway point, the group was a mix of exhilaration and exhaustion. They paused to refuel, pulling out energy bars and water bottles. The wind whipped around them, colder and more insistent as they climbed higher.

Arthur Hill collapsed onto a rock, his face red but determined. “This is... definitely harder than I thought,” he admitted between gulps of water.

“You’re doing better than I expected,” Y/n encouraged, earning a grateful smile from him.

The teasing eased for a while as the group focused on the gruelling climb. The summit felt tantalizingly close yet maddeningly out of reach as the trail grew steeper and the air thinner. Y/n took the lead, her smaller frame navigating the rocky terrain with agility that left the others scrambling to keep up.

Chris stayed close behind her, his own shorter stature making the climb a little easier compared to the taller guys, who were visibly struggling.

“Bet you’re glad to have another hobbit around now,” Y/n teased over her shoulder, her cheeks flushed from the cold and exertion.

Chris laughed, shaking his head. “Never thought I’d say this, but yeah, maybe it’s not so bad.”

The summit finally came into view, on a good day it probably would have been an incredible view but the British weather was typical and as the group had looked out all they could see was fog. Still though, this was the tallest peak and they were at the top.

“We did it!” Harry yelled, throwing his arms in the air.

Y/n grinned, pulling out her camera to capture the moment. She turned it toward Chris, who was leaning on his trekking pole, looking both exhilarated and exhausted.

“How does it feel to conquer peak one?” she asked, the camera trained on him.

“Cold,” Chris deadpanned, earning a laugh from the group.

They spent a few precious minutes taking in the view, snapping photos, and catching their breath. But the celebration was short-lived as Chris checked his watch.

“We’re behind schedule,” he announced, his tone regretful. “We’ve got to get moving if we’re going to stay on track.”

As they began their descent, the mood remained light despite the ticking clock. The banter continued, with the group teasing Arthur Hill for his earlier struggles and Chris and Y/n for their so-called “hobbit couple” status.

Chris found himself walking beside Y/n again, their shoulders brushing as they navigated the narrow trail.

“Think we’ll survive the next two peaks?” he asked, his tone half-joking.

Y/n glanced at him, her hazel eyes warm. “If you stick with me, Frodo, I think we’ll be alright.”

Chris felt a flicker of hope, small but persistent, that maybe, just maybe, this challenge would lead to more than just a great video.

As the group reached the base of Ben Nevis and prepared to drive to Scafell Pike, the teasing continued, but so did the camaraderie. And for Chris, the chemistry he felt with Y/n was becoming harder to ignore.

Chris adjusted the camera, framing himself in the shadow of Scafell Pike, the tallest mountain in England. The crisp afternoon sunlight bathed the rolling hills of the Lake District, a stark contrast to the biting wind they had endured on Ben Nevis.

"Alright, peak two," Chris’s voiceover rang out. “Quick update: we’ve just finished a very cosy van ride—by cosy, I mean crammed—with practically no leg room. But that wasn’t a problem for two of the members of the group.”

The screen then filled with a picture of Chris and Y/n squeezed into a corner of the van, her head resting sleepily on his shoulder while they both grinned. Their legs, stretched toward the camera, showed just how much space the pair had, still having some room to swing their smaller legs, in stark contrast to the rest of the group.

The video then continued and now it showed the group gathered around, fastening their jackets and strapping on their backpacks. Harry stretched dramatically, groaning about his sore legs, while George filmed Arthur Hill struggling to zip his jacket.

"You alright there, mate?" George teased.

"Not really," Arthur Hill admitted, but his grin betrayed his determination to keep going.

As they started the climb, the monumental task settled on everyone once again, time was ticking away from them. The steep incline and rocky path demanded focus, and the chatter from the Ben Nevis climb faded into heavy breaths and occasional bursts of laughter. Y/n, as usual, took the lead, her smaller frame navigating the terrain with ease. Chris stuck close to her, their steps often falling into sync.

It wasn’t long until Arthur Hill faltered, wincing as he leaned against his trekking pole.

"Hold up," Reev called, motioning for the group to stop. "Arthur, you good?"

Arthur shook his head. "I’ve got an old injury and it was worse yesterday, I work up this morning thinking that I was okay but it’s really not good at all,” the musician whined a little, he was well aware he was the one who was slowing everyone down and he was in a considering amount of pain now too.

The group exchanged concerned glances.

"Are you going to sit this one out?" Chris said gently, resting a hand on Arthur’s shoulder.

Arthur hesitated, his face a mix of frustration and relief. "Yeah, I think I have to."

They helped him set up a small camp just off the path, ensuring he had water, snacks, and a comfortable spot to rest.

"Don’t worry about me," Arthur said, waving them off. "I’ll cheer you on from here. Just make sure to take loads of embarrassing photos for me to miss out on."

With a final round of reassurances, the group continued upward, joking at Arthur’s position as he laid still on the grass by a rock. As the group continued the summit grew closer with every step. Chris felt his chest tighten, but this time it wasn’t just the exertion.

His parents were waiting at the top.

They had moved to the Lake District from Jersey recently, and while he loved seeing them, introducing them to his friends—especially Y/n—brought a mix of excitement and nerves.

As they reached the peak George and ArthurTV tried to lighten the mood and keep morale up by making jokes about Chris’s mother.

When the group finally crested the summit, they were greeted by Chris’s mum and dad, both bundled in warm coats and waving enthusiastically.

Harry and ArthurTV greeted Chris’s parents like old friends, their laughter and inside jokes echoing across the mountaintop. Y/n, however, hung back, fidgeting with her gloves wondering why she felt so nervous, Chris was only a friend.

Chris noticed and leaned closer to her. "You alright?"

"Yeah," Y/n said quickly, though her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. "I just… don’t want to make a bad impression."

Chris chuckled. "You’ve got nothing to worry about. They’ll love you."

As if to prove his point, his mum approached Y/n with open arms. "You must be Y/n," she said warmly. "Chris has told us so much about you."

Y/n’s cheeks flushed, but she returned the hug. "All good things, I hope."

"Of course," Chris’s mum replied with a wink.

To Y/n’s relief, the conversation flowed naturally. She found herself laughing with Chris’s parents, sharing stories about her travels and listening to tales from their new life in the Lake District.

"You’ve got a good group here," Chris’s dad said, clapping him on the back.

"The best," Chris agreed, his gaze flicking to Y/n.

After a round of photos and a quick snack break, they began their descent. The steep path required concentration, but Chris took the opportunity to start a conversation he’d been mulling over for weeks.

The voiceover took over again, this time the tone changing to a more serious one as Chris explained he wanted to do more videos talking about mental health he explained his struggles with anxiety for years, ruminating thoughts, intrusive stuff but also what had helped him try and get through it so he was now in a much better place. One by one he spoke to each of his friends about mental health, opening up to each other and it was a change of pace from their usual jokes and banter.

Y/n was someone who had also been very opened about her mental health and their conversation could have lasted for days.

Y/n, walking beside Chris, glanced at him thoughtfully. "How different is it for men, though?" she asked. "I mean, society’s expectations and all that."

Chris paused, considering her question. "It’s hard. There’s this pressure to be… strong, or like, unemotional. But that’s changing. Slowly. What about you? You’ve been really open about your journey, haven’t you?"

Y/n nodded, adjusting her grip on her trekking pole. "I try to be. It’s not easy, though. There’s still so much stigma. But I think the more we talk about it, the more we help people feel less alone."

Chris smiled at her. "You’ve helped me, you know. Just by being so honest."

Y/n’s cheeks turned pink, and she looked away. "You’ve helped me too."

Their conversation was interrupted when Y/n’s foot slipped on a loose rock. She gasped, her arms flailing, but Chris caught her hand just in time.

"You alright?" he asked, steadying her.

"Yeah, just my dignity taking a hit," she said, laughing as she regained her balance.

Chris didn’t let go of her hand right away, and when he did, it was with a lingering warmth that neither of them acknowledged.

The rest of the descent was filled with lighter conversations, the group joking about their shared exhaustion and Arthur Hill’s missed summit.

As they reached the base of Scafell Pike, Chris felt a renewed sense of purpose. Two peaks down, one to go. They had decided that twenty four hours was now long gone but they were going to enjoy the journey for what it is.

The glow of determination fueled the group as they loaded into the van, but the energy from the morning had shifted. Arthur Hill, sitting on a bench with his leg propped up and wrapped in a bandage, waved them off with Harry by his side.

"Be safe!" Arthur called. "And don’t forget to take a victory photo at the top of Snowdon—preferably one where Jamie doesn’t look like he’s about to pass out!"

Jamie, who had also been struggling a little shot him a mock glare.

With the group a little smaller now, the drive to Snowdonia was quieter. Chris glanced back at Y/n, who had claimed the backseat corner. Her head leaned against the window, her auburn curls falling softly over her face as she watched the scenery blur into darkness.

“You alright back there, Y/n?” Chris asked, his voice low.

She turned and smiled, though it was softer than usual. “Yeah, just thinking about how this’ll feel tomorrow when my legs refuse to work.”

The van erupted into knowing laughter.

 “This isn’t about the time,” Chris said as they stretched at the base of the mountain, the cold night air biting at their exposed skin. “It’s about finishing what we started.”

Y/n gave him an approving nod. “That’s what it’s all about. Let’s do it.”

The climb up Snowdon was quieter than the others, the fatigue settling deep in their muscles. The darkness added a layer of challenge, with headlamps and flashlights casting eerie shadows across the rocky path.

“Watch your step,” Reev warned as they navigated a narrow ridge.

There were a few stumbles—George slipping onto his hands and knees, ArthurTV catching himself on a low rock—but no injuries. Every so often, the group paused, catching their breath and sipping water, their chatter growing lighter with every stop.

At last, the summit came into view. The cold wind whipped around them as they reached the peak, and for a moment, no one said a word.

Then Reev broke the silence. “We actually did it.”

“Almost,” Chris corrected. “We still have to get down.”

“Oh, don’t ruin the moment,” Y/n teased, nudging him lightly.

The group broke into hugs, laughing through their exhaustion as they celebrated. Chris lingered in Y/n’s embrace, feeling the warmth of her against the cold air.

Someone snapped a photo, capturing their silhouettes against the starry sky.

The descent was slow and careful especially as night was falling now and torches were failing. The rocks, slick with evening dew, made each step treacherous. Y/n stuck close to Chris, their headlamps bobbing in unison as they navigated the terrain.

“I don’t know how you talked me into this,” Y/n joked, her voice hushed in the quiet of the night.

“You’re the challenge queen,” Chris replied. “I thought this would be your idea of fun.”

She laughed softly, shaking her head. “I usually have better planning, fewer risks of breaking an ankle in the dark.”

Chris smiled but noticed her pensive expression. “You okay?”

Y/n hesitated before answering. “Yeah. I just… I’ve been thinking a lot on this trip. About where I’m going, what I want. It’s hard not to when you’re staring down mountains, you know?”

“I get that,” Chris said, his voice thoughtful. “Climbing a mountain does have a way of putting things in perspective.”

They walked in silence for a moment before Y/n continued. “I’ve been doing YouTube for over a decade. I love it, but sometimes I wonder if I’m just… running away from things by traveling so much. Like, maybe if I stop, I’ll have to face everything I’ve been avoiding.”

Chris’s chest tightened at her honesty. “I don’t think you’re running away,” he said softly. “I think you’re just searching for what makes you happy. And that’s not a bad thing.”

Y/n looked at him, her hazel eyes reflecting the beam of his headlamp. “You really think that?”

“Yeah, I do,” Chris replied. “You’ve inspired so many people—including me. You’ve got this way of making even the toughest situations seem like an adventure.”

Y/n smiled, a genuine, heartfelt expression that made Chris’s stomach flip. “Thanks, Chris. That means a lot.”

They walked a little further before Y/n asked, “What about you? What are you searching for?”

Chris exhaled, his breath visible in the cold air. “Honestly? I’m not sure. I’ve spent so much time focusing on work, on videos, that I’ve kind of lost sight of what’s next. But being here, with you guys, it reminds me of what’s important. It’s not just about the videos or the views—it’s about the connections we make along the way.”

Y/n reached out, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “That’s a good answer.”

Chris chuckled, his heart racing at the contact. “Glad you approve.”

As they continued down the mountain, Chris couldn’t help but glance at Y/n every so often. She looked tired but content, her curls glowing faintly in the moonlight. Chris couldn’t help but think this trip was very special for a multitude for reasons.

In the comments, viewers had plenty to say.

“Y/n and Chris definitely have something going on. The chemistry is undeniable!” “Chris catching Y/n when she slipped? Literal couple goals.” “The ‘hobbit couple’ strikes again! Just admit you’re perfect for each other already.” “Loved the mental health chat. So important to hear men like Chris opening up. Thanks for this, mate.”

Chris scrolled through the comments later that night, a smile tugging at his lips. He glanced at his phone, debating whether to message Y/n.

Before he could decide, his phone buzzed with a message from her.

Y/n: “Can’t believe we actually did it. Thanks for being my rock on the trip. (Haha get it?) 😊”

Chris grinned, his fingers hovering over the keyboard before typing a response.

Chris: “That was awful, but really couldn’t have done it without you. Hobbit squad for life. 🏔️”

Chris bit his lip as he then typed out the message “Dinner?” three times before deleting it each time. Something had changed in him one day but was he ready for another challenge?

[justlemmeadoreyou]

This is the collection of everything I've ever posted! It's not too good, but I hope you like it anyways!

Please don't interact with my writing if you're not above 18. You can interact with me, talk to me if you want, but you shouldn't be here if you're under 18.

I TAKE REQUESTS! There are a bunch of them in my inbox as well, and I try to write them as soon as I can! But please don't do that thing where you send the same thing to multiple writers--it is kinda off-putting for me.

I would love for anyone to like/comment on/reblog my posts. Everyu interaction is much, much appreciated, and hey, it helps us grow. It's free-supporting people who write here. So please, do what you can!

searchable tags: #harry styles fanfiction for all original posts. (to filter out the reblogs) #ask for all asks in my inbox

Please don't repost or translate any of my works anywhere. Any support in the form of likes and reblogs is truly, madly, deeply appreciated!

Here's my ko-fi for any tips you would like to give me!

Hope you have a great day! 🫶

updated on: 19/5

HOLIDAY FICS 2023 [8]

HEADCANONS

jealous!harry headcanons

boyfriend!harry headcanons

boyfriend!harry headcanons (another one 🙈)

dad's best friend!harry headcanons

mean!friends with benefits!harry headcanons

harry in love

grumpy!harry headcanons (mechanicrry universe)

husband!harry headcanons (explicit version)

secret relationship with 1D harry (headcanons)

《《 SERIES》》

Secret Little Rendevous | (co-worker!harry x reader) [COMPLETE SERIES]

In which you are in a friends-with-benefits relationship than Harry, and it gets messier as you go forward. (Not your typical enemies to lovers fic)

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5

Unfulfilled | (nerd!harry x reader)

in which you and harry are (friendly) academic rivals, and things change

part 1

A Chrome Connection | (grumpy!harry x sunshine!reader)

In which you are in desperate need of some car-fixing(and a place to live in) and you find Harry, a grumpy mechanic who supposedly dosen't care about people around him. But, will he melt when he finds a broken girl crying in her car on a cold Thanksgiving night?

a misfortune - part 1

windfall - part 2

melancholia - part 3

Hopelessly Devoted to You | (lawyer!harry x reader)

In which Y/n just wants to leave her abusive husband, and Harry is hopelessly devoted to her

Part-1 Part-2 Part-3 Part-4

Sweet Creature | (restaurant owner!harry x chef!y/n)

you landed your dream job as a line cook at Harry Styles' prestigious haus kitchen restaurant in chicago. the tough chef job demands focus, but it's really hard when your boss looks like harry styles.

part 1 part 2 part 3

《LONG ONE SHOTS》

An Eternal Embarce* (hades!harry x persephone!y/n)

in which persephone is back after 6 months, and the underworld blossoms once again. tensions arise too, but there is nothing that the king of underworld and queen of sspring can't handle together [Word Count: 7k]

Just the two of us -vday check in

Serendipity*

harry meets you at the most unexpected of places, and helps you like a knight in a wedding suit. it all starts at your best friend's wedding, where you find yourself in a predicament without an escort. as panic sets in, harry appears, sent by the groom's brother to fill in as your last-minute companion. from that moment, a serendipitous connection begins to bloom between you both. [Word Count: 5k]

Solace* (famous!harry x masseuse!y/n) part 2

harry is in need of some unwinding and destressing, and he finds the perfect masseuse for that. they end up growing much closer than the relationship they began with, but it's never that easy, is it? [Word Count: 11.6 k]

Rain-Kissed* (footballer!harry x nerd!y/n)

y/n and harry, former rivals turned reluctant partners, find unexpected chemistry. heated glances, playful banter ignite a spark. a near-tragedy makes y/n confront feelings, and...will they be reciprocated? ft. lots of mutual pining [Word Count: 6.1 k]

Intertwined* (hockey player!harry x figure skater!y/n)

harry practices at the local ice rink every night, but lately, all he can think about is a specific figure skater that he admires from a distance. when she asks him for some "private" lessons on ice, will they give in to the stolen glances and undeniable tension? [Word Count: 6k]

《ONE SHOT/BLURBS》

SMUT

hot n' hard*

you and harry are at the pool for some fun, and you both rile each other up throughout. you both end up fucking at the edge of the pool and your exhibitionism kink has never been fueled so good.

thigh riding*

you playfully tease harry and, let's just say, it does not go well

don't stop

riding harry with your hands tied behind your back

breeding kink-blurb*

harry sees you around kids on a Christmas dinner, and he's obsessed with giving you his own

cupidity*

"don't make me take you home and punish you"

his* (jealousrry blowjob blurb)

harry is jealous, primal and dominant tonight, and you have never been so turned on

temporary fix*

in which a stranger at a bar becomes your good night (inspired by temporary fix by 1D (duh))

three knuckle deep*(aka fingering blurb)

in which you break harry's rule, and there are consequences

curves*

a plus-size!y/n fic

good girl*

straight up filth, sex w/ harry

euphoria*

soft dom!harry while his girl sucks on his cock

near the fireplace*

sex near the fireplace after a christmas dinner

a new year, a new beginning*

new years with harry's family, followed by some love making

FLUFF

drunk harry

in which harry is drunk, and you are trying to take care of the cutie pie

drunk y/n

in which you have a test the next day, and you find refuge in drinking and harry

addicted

about Harry’s addiction of kissing you

vexed

in which you are burnt out, and Harry comes to your rescue, in cute pajamas, with cookies and hot chocolate

tranquility

inspired by harry's pics of him swimming in the ocean

here for you

a fluffy period blurb, ft. pillow fights and kisses!

baby

boyfriend!h takes care of pregnant!reader, with a lot of fluffy cuteness. the baby kicks for the first time, and harry is overjoyed.

cuddles

ft. harry being cuddly and clingy

late-night serenades

you play guitar, but harry dosen’t know that. one night, you can't sleep, and harry's guitar looks quite tempting

breakfast in bed

in which harry wants to bring you breakfast in bed, but you have woken up. thankfully, he is cute and you're smitten

hold on to me

(trumpet player!harry x clarinet player!reader) you're both off to college after a while, and it's your last time playing together. feelings are comnfessed, and promises are made.

a christmas with harry

your first christmas with harry at his home, surrounded by his family and friends

dance with me

in which you and harry are at a friend's wedding, and you really don't know how to dance

thanksgiving

coming from a place where thanksgiving isn't celebrated, harry is more than happy to show you

ANGST

trepidation

in which you are too busy for the relationship, and he feels you slipping away.

insecure * requisite(part 2)*(SMUT)

in which harry feels insecure, because you want to keep your relationship a secret. ft: fluff, angst, dirty talk

waiting * for you(part 2)

a 6 month anniversary date turns into broken promises and doubts over your love

disconnected*

first time sex with harry, which leads to misunderstandings, miscommunication and insecurities

requests are open!!!

(*-> smut)

blurb night concepts

21/4

divider and header by @/saradika

[deminetly]

WHIMSICAL MADE-UP HOLIDAYS TO CELEBRATE᭕

⠂⠁⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠂⠁⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂

day of your favourite color APRIL 16TH

try to introduce that color into your day as much as possible (wear clothes in that color, use a cup that color, etc)

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day of fairytales MAY 2ND

day to read and write fairytales

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fairy appreciation day MAY 30TH

on this day you may leave out gifts and food for fairies, try to seek them out or even dress up as one

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day of the wishing star JULY 7TH

day to make a wish upon a star in the nightsky while stargazing

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old journal reflection day APRIL 27TH

on this day we read our old journals and reflect

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day of light NOVEMBER 3RD

on this day we embarce anything that glows - light candles or use fairy lights for example

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tea appreciation day SEPTEMBER 5TH

on this day you may relax and drink tea, even research the history of it if you wish

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garden day AUGUST 8TH

this day should be spent in your garden, enjoying nature and planting something

[polkadotmotmot]

Shen Jiaqi - Embarcation, 2025 - Acrylic on linen

[lchufflepuffcorn]

Rāpa zaldrīzes bāne prūmia (Dragon!Hybrid!Daemon x Reader)

Warning: ⚠️ 17+ Content AT THE VERY LEAST. MDNI.⚠️ Soft Daemon.

Note: I wanted to do something to reflect both a drawing I saw of Daemon from @suis0u (which was amazing and sparked this idea) and the softness we see him have toward Rhaenyra in season 2. Also, this is for the un-emojified anon that asked about the Daemon's requests. I hope you find this, eventually and know that you shall now be dubbed as the ☄️anon.

Requests are open !

Words: 1,334

Original Masterlist

🐉!hybrid Masterpost

Taglist form

His purple eyes burning through the reunited lords and ladies of the court as Daemon walked purposefully toward his brother. Long strides making it hard to follow behind him with even a modicum of dignity, so you didn’t try. The crown made of bones sitting on the prince’s head, once it was seen by the court, became the center of a buzzing conversation, whispers echoing inside the throne room, the stones walls acting like an amplification to the noise and you nearly flinched. 

Blood striking the prince’s cheeks clothes thorned and whipped by the cruel wind as he place the bone crown on top of his head. The sound of crashing waves against the shore similar to the waves of murmurs now crashing through the room. The sun had replaced the flickers of fire-lit boats and arrows, yet you felt no peace inside these wall. And the tang of sweat hadn’t the same sweetness as the sea air held. The warmth of being looked at, glared at, was something you learned to ignore, being at Daemon’s side for so long. 

It didn’t make it easier to bear. 

Daemon now stood tall, at the feet of Viserys’ throne, wings spread proudly on his back, and you came to stand to the prince’s right, just a step of three behind. Head lowered, you presented to Daemon the hatchet you’d been given. You felt Viserys gaze burn the top of your head as you lowered yourself, Daemon looked onward. Ignoring the king’s guard sword sitting on his chest, he threw the hatchet to the ground, eyes locked with his brother’s. You pulled back behind the prince, eyes gazing over the assistance, meeting the purple, curious, one’s of the Princess Rhaenyra as you did so. She was the only one who offered a greeting, which you returned discreetly. 

Daemon’s shoulders appeared free of all tension, but his scaly tale was unmoving also, signifying the slight nervousness he was probably feeling. His wings also, barely fluttered behind him. You took in a breath to try and calm the shaking in your limbs. 

When Daemon received the letter form his brother, urging him to wait for reinforcement. It was the first time you grew scared of him. The quiet anger that burned through his gaze and the silence with which he rescinded. It had the same effect to you than diving into the icy water of the sea. Bones drenched in the cold fear of maybe loosing all control over his fiery characters, loosing Daemon for good. 

He’d taken flight soon after he read the letter. Leaving with practically none of his army to fight the Crab king, leaving you to articulate the need you imagined he’d have once he landed. Scrambling to coordinate with this lord or some other before sending them behind him in small (too small) embarcations. 

You’d been too far to follow the battle ensuing. Only seeing throws of flames and hearing the echoes of screams from where you stood. You could only direct the messages send to Corlys once his ship could manage to receive your flags. 

When Daemon came back on the ship, all bloody and sooth covered. Smelling like fish, blood and smoke, a crown of small bones, or crab legs, which ever, sitting on his head, you lowered yours and ignored him. For you could not help with the fury his brother (The King) would unleash once he’d hear of his deed. 

“You seem quite somber, for someone whose status just moved up to consort of a King.” Daemon commented one night, as you rested against his chest, his wings hiding you both from whomever could walk into the cabin you share in the ship. It was bringing you back to King’s landing, and you dreaded the experience, every day a little more. 

You nodded. “Perhaps. I find myself wondering if accepting the title would do you any good.” You commented softly. Voice and words where two different things. One was the method, the other was the wound. And even if you wanted poison, the dead wasn’t always so smooth. Daemon had looked down to you, eyebrows raised. “You regret my winning?” He asked, tone colder than before, his smirk becoming sharper, meaner. 

“I do not. I fear your confidence.” 

Now, as you bowed respectfully to Viserys, in front of a single hatchet, Daemon finally talked. Words buzzing in your ears, nonsense of nervousness. He was handling your life in his hands. You trust was put in Daemon early on, but his brash character had offered many disgrace, and not much to hold your head high. Not that you complained all that much, but in situations as these, it mattered. 

“You were a crown. Do you also call yourself king.” Said Viserys, his tone smooth, calm, yet like a lash echoing in the air of the throne room. You lowered your head further. Murmurs grew loud in the room, as the assemble of lords and lady assisting convoluted the words of their king with horror, or mockery toward your prince. The though brought bile to the back of your throat, burning upward all the way from your stomach until it reached the back of your teeth. 

“Once we smashed the triarchy, they named me… King of the Narrow Sea.” Explain Daemon, voice soft, devoid of all mutiny and playfulness you were so used to. Another wave of murmur started before Daemon continued, making you raise your gaze in his direction for the first time since the eternity you’d stood behind him. 

“But I know that their is only one true king, your grace..” The prince kneeled in front of his brother, removing the bone-white crown from his as pale hair. “The crown, and Stepstones, are yours.” 

In the stunned, heavy silence, that followed, blood rushed to your head, making it impossible to understand the exchange of words the king and the prince shared, you finally let out the beath that stuck to your throat all the while you waited. Viserys climbed down his throne to face his brother eyes to eyes, Daemon still kneeling, he offered his crown to Viserys. 

The rest of it was, for you, a blur, as you only followed Daemon’s movements until he reached the quarters you would share. Your prince had no interest in parting from you anytime, anywhere. He was still drunk on the applause, on the praise that he’d receive from the king, that made him happy. 

And when Daemon was happy, he was soft. 

Which was something that would go against everyone that knew the prince would find contradictive. But they didn’t know him like you did. They didn’t know the need he had for closeness and appreciation like you didn’t. They couldn’t see the joy of being acknowledged as equally deserving like you did. And this was Daemon’s true face. 

His hands guiding your hips to move against his, eyes devoid of their usual calculated glimmer, Daemon panted softly into the vast distance that separated your two bodies. Clothes in piles next to the bed, as he’d taken his time to take them off of you. 

“Clever little Azantys, always the right words to bring me back to my sense.” He’d comment, eyes racking every parcel of your body as he revealed it it himself. 

You rocked against him, positioning yourself the way you knew he liked, one of your hands coming to trace the scales decorating his neck and clavicles. Daemon threw his head back to give you a better access to it.  

“Just like that, Azantys. Ao gaomagon ziry sīr sȳrī .” 

Praises, or so you think, leave his mouth with every breath he huffed, head thrown back to enjoy the feeling of you and him locked together, moving in sync. Heavy hands running from your hips to down your legs, and then up to your shoulders, bringing you down so he could kiss your lips. 

This is the daemon you liked most of all the versions you were privileged to see.

Taglist: @lady-dragon-rider

Current anon: 👑😵‍💫🥰🧑‍🍼😣🧑‍⚕️☄️

[lokideservesahug]

Can't Get My Mind Off Of You

-°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°--°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°-

Pairing: Carlos Alcaraz x gn!reader

Warnings: Identity crisis, Carlos being a pining idiot but what's new? Y/A means your initial

Notes: This is for the nichest audience ever (less so because its gn ig). But as long as it makes someone happy (I'm looking at you @alcqraz )... And please give feedback on this because I'm very conscious that there are probably so many errors...

Summary: Carlos is smitten with you. He looks for you in every room, his thoughts are plagued by you. But he just can't seem to get a word out when he's around you...

-°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°--°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°-

Your words wrap around him like a warm embrace. His native language rolling off of your tongue like it was made for you. The plosives formed just for your lips to take advantage of the air. The same air that Carlos swears down he is so lucky to breathe, the same as you. He watches as your arms flex. To most it looks likes he's watching you, seeing if the rising star makes any mistakes. Carlos' eyes scan your form as if looking for cracks in your form. But Carlos knows deep down that he's trying to map your figure. Paint a picture of the way your muscles ripple as you take another serve. He lets out a deep exhale. You're just such a good sportsman. That's what's luring him in...right?

He tries his hardest not to look at your competitor, fairly certain that his gaze would actualy burn holes into him. Carlos isn't quite sure if he's jealous that the man across the court is playing against you, as opposed to Carlos being on the other end of your hard (yet attractive) stare or that he's trying to beat you. Either way, the man on the other side of the net to you is underlying of your time or attention Carlos thinks.

Carlos watches as you finally turn towards him once again, face flushed. He tries to not let his minds slip to when else you'd be covered with the same sheen of sweat... He shakes his head. What has gotten into him recently? So lost in his own thoughts, Carlos fails to notice that you're back to practising but is broken from his thoughts by the sound of your grunts. The same sound that the Spaniard can't seem to get his mind off of recently...

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

Carlos stares at his phone, scrolling mindlessly on Instagram. There isn't much substance to the social media but anything is better than being left alone in a quiet lift with his own thoughts; especially with how wild they've been raoming especially when it comes to matters of a certain Y/H/C tennis player. The subtle pat of trainers on the floor makes him glance up. Only to be met with the sight of your eyes. Carlos feels the breath become knocked out if him as you give him a small smile. You nod and turn away from him, leading Carlos to just stare at the back of your head.

And gosh, he didn't know lifts were so warm... Ah who's he kidding Carlos knows that the only reason his heart rate feels like it's beating out a samba is because of the close proximity of the two of you. He could just reach out and feel your- Carlos shakes his head as he feels his fingers twitch. Gosh what a perv-

He should should talk to you, like a normal, sane human being. He takes a deep breath in and looks up, only to be met with the sight of your retreating figure walking out of the lift doors. Damn-

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

Gosh Carlos must be dreaming. Well not again. He cursed himself this morning when he was ripped away from the domestic image of the two of you this morning. The dream of the both of you wrapped up in warm embarces, chaste kisses and silk sheets runied by the sound of his alarm. But now, as he arrives to the tennis courts early, the Spaniard is sure that you two are a match made in heaven.

Even some of the most dedicated and successful tennis players Carlos has met throughout his career have given him strange looks when he mentioned waking up especially early on the daily to practice early. Something about "A goodnight sleep is really your best frie-" well Carlos didn't pay that much attention to what they were saying in all honesty.

But now, as he watches you bend down and collect the balls that you've clearly been hitting at the wall for the past few minutes, he's sure that you must be his soulmate. He doesn't even focus too much on the vision of you near folding in half as you pick up yet another tennis ball! But at least he can save the image for a rainy day (that knowing him would come sooner rather than later).

Suddenly, you turn around and your eyes meet Carlos'. You freeze for a moment and tilt your head, smile dancing across your lips. You furrow your brows for a moment but just walk towards the bench where your bag lies. You place the tennis balls down haphazardly on the bench and rummage around in your bag.

Carlos' gaze remains fixed on your figure. Gosh you make even the most mundane of things look attractive. And as you take a swig of your water bottle. Carlos, oddly enough has never wanted to be a droplet of water more. As he watches it run around the curve if your lips and drip down past your chin. He'd give anything if he could just be that small bit of water as it drops just above the neckline of your shirt. Carlos has to look away in embarrassment as his cheeks heat, looking at the mixture of your sweat and water glistening on the skin, peeking out of your shirt.

He doesn't notice you put the bottle down but he sure does notice you lift the bottom of your shirt to wipe the sweat from your brow. Carlos feels his mouth drop as his eyes scan across your muscles. Gosh he never knew why people were so wierd when admiring the human form... but now? Looking at you? He gets it. He understands every sonnet, every love song, every dedication in every book and every tear shed over the concept of loving a person so dearly.

Love. Carlos not long ago would have laughed at the word but now? He's sure that just looking at you brings meaning to the word. You meet his eyes and as is common practise these days, his gaze falls to your lips. You smirk and Carlos feels the breath get caught in his throat once more as you go to open your mouth, clearly with something to say.

"Y/L/N." Your eyes widen and if Carlos wasn't mistaken you almost looked sorry? Maybe it was just his imagination. He turns to looks at the intruder of your moment (that if it wa sup to Carlos would be a confession of love and a marriage proposal) and as the two of you greet in a small handshake, Carlos finds it the perfect opportunity to sneak away. Besides, he wasn't ready to speak to you. He'd probably have frozen up and looked like a fool again.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

As Carlos sits in the seats, waiting for one of the courts uou lean forward on the railings. Carlos looks up from his phone and is startled by the newcomer in such close proximity to him. All is forgiven however, when he realises its just you.

You smirk and look him up and down. "You're cute Alcaraz but gosh are you slow." He tilts his head and his eyes glisten with confusion. You hold back a giggle at him and his puppy look all but proving your point. You shake your head and give him a pat on the shoulder as you both hear a distant call of your name. You look behind your shoulder and then back into Carlos' eyes, carefree smile painted on your face that Carlos doesn't think he'll ever shake from his memory.

"Call me." You wink and skip of behind him. Carlos goes to call out after you but you're already too far away. "But you didnt-" He shakes his head. Once again, he'll have to wait until next time. But now, for once in his life, Carlos knows he feels a new sense of determination.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

The Spaniard walks up to his car and freezes. Carlos pats his back pockets for his car keys. He reaches into one of his jacket pocket only to pull out a pack of gum and a few notes. Carlos huffs as he tries the other one. However, his fingers instead feel an unfamiliar paper sensation. He grabs at the foreign object and unfolds the note.

-Call me, Alcaraz ;)

xxx-xxx-xxx-xx

-Y/A

And gosh, Carlos knows he made a vow to himself to tray and act less hopeless. But even the just the sight of your handwriting makes his heart flutter. He fumbles to reach into his back pocket to find his phone and save your number to his phone. And lets just say that there were many questions when Carlos arrived a out half an hour later, chattering teeth, complaining about the cold but still, somehow with his signature grin.

-°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°--°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°-

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed!

As always, likes, reblogs and especially feedback is always welcome!

Taglist: @nikfigueiredo @mysoulispainted @leclercings @d3kstar @hiireadstuff @a-beaverhausen @nichmeddar @lozzamez3 @stinkyjax @marymustdie @littlesatanicassholebitch @mehrmonga @insanedeathwish @ems-alexandra @a-disturbing-self-reflection @cherry-piee @thatgirlmj

And special tags for: @yungbludz ofc and @alcqraz who inspired me two write with less of a female reader in mind (and sorry it's not male per se)

[the-tech-turn]

I DON'T THINK YOU GUYS UNDERSTAND

For NINE DAYS Odysseus was wide awake

He was just trying to make it home with NO storm or tidal wave.

AND IN THAT TIME he remained unopposed and the bag was STILL CLOSED.

He was SO CLOSE, too, reuniting with his wife and son.

He was SO eager to make new memories with his beloved wife, and he wanted to make up for lost time with his son.

All he had to do was keep his eyes open.

But he was so tired.

Just had to keep his eyes open.

He just wanted to see his family.

Keep your eyes open Odysseus.

He just wanted to embarce them after a long war.

If only he had kept his eyes open.

[akutasoda]

hair hold's memories

synopsis - a fleeting memory that can only be memorialized in the locks that flowed freely

includes - boothill

warnings - gn!reader, very angstyyy, comfort, bittersweet, mentions of blood and harm, experimentation??, wc - 1.2k

a/n: what was a conversation about braiding boothill's hair with a friend turned into a drabble and now this...

taglist - @teddirika @frankiesteinn

many things changed for boothill so quickly and without much of a warning. one moment the cold darkness of relief consumed his body, clouding his vision and holding him close in an attempt to swallow him whole as he desperately writhed and struggled to be set free and embarced by death's cold hands - but he could still feel the overwhelming terror and anxiety swelling up in his cold body. the next moment, the smell of iron and char accompanied by the whirring of machinery awoke him from his cold dead slumber.

his body was no longer his, his heart, his feelings no longer felt like a comforting shell. instead they felt like a bitter reminder of his cruel fate that he had no say in, he died but he wasn't allowed to have the rest that should've come to someone passed. the doctor had done what he wanted with a body that wasn't his nor was it really the recipients anymore - taken the coldness and flurry of emotions in the shell of a man and immortalised it into a machine.

sometimes he doesn't know whether that doctor was playing a cruel joke at his expense or was attempting to do good by granting him his life back - the latter seemed even worse as it would've been a selfish act on the expense of someone else. for a while he couldn't look himself in a mirror, his body was a constant reminder of his mistakes and failures and it forced him to live out the rest of his life as someobdy else. sometimes he wished to tear his metallic joins from the equally metallic limbs and bring himself back to the embrace of darkness but he didn't even know if that would be possible anymore. maybe the blue blood would laugh at him pitifully as he now wished for it to flow a crimson red - the same crimson red that flowed freely out of his body as he faded to darkness.

maybe the doctor thought he could help fix boothill's mind by leaving his head attached to his new body. the cold metal a stark contrast to the warm supple skin of his face that became colder day by day. the only part of him that could feel something, anything that would be his kast bastion of hope in convincing himself that he was still human - even if he always went back on his words.

as a human boothill had long hair - it grew very quickly and he enjoyed having it flow freely as it reached his hips. the black and white strands would fall to frame his face beautifully, sometimes even picturesque as it carries on the winds that he could reach out and feel. now the cold metal toyed with the strands that stayed the same, no matter how much hair he could grab he could no longer feel it and he felt it only highlighted the contrast between his human and mechanical features instead of the soft dips and curves of his facial features.

he felt numb as he traced his remaining human feature with his metal hands, he couldn't feel anything anymore. he would be sentenced to always remember his past and feel a bitter resentment to the human body he once called his own. boothill swore to preserve his remaining human features in honour of the man he used to be - never to forget despite the pain those memories caused.

they say hair holds memories and he believed that. after his body was turned he never cut his hair, he was technically dead and his hair wouldn't grow the way it used to. it was a part of his old body that could stay the same, it didn't fall out nor did it grow and so if he preserved it, it could become a permanent comfort of knowing he was once human. boothill looked after his hair diligently as if anything happened to it he knew he'd lose another part of himself that would be replaced - making him less of him and more the cruel experiment he was.

'are you sure you want to go ahead with this?' you stared at him with a seriousness etched into your concerned face. it wasn't long ago that boothill had come up to uncharacteristically unsure of himself and rather nervous asking you for your help with something. 'yeah im sure, damn joints aren't working as well as they should' boothill let out a rather shaky sigh that almost went unnoticed - it was true, his metallic joints weren't agreeing with him after his last mission but he needed to keep his upkeep of his hair, he wanted to preserve it to the best of his ability.

you knew how much this meant to him, idly running your hands through his hair you noticed how he relaxed into your touch - his hair and his head were the only remaining parts that could feel human touch. he always enjoyed it when you would run your hands through his hair, as long as you promised to be gentle, it gave him a sense of normality that always seemed so foreign. you knew that this was a sacred part of his body and you wanted to help him as best you could when he asked for you to help give his hair a quick clean.

no amount of words could ever get him to even like his metal body, not even your compliments.

'alright then, lay your head across then' you said and he quickly obliged laying his head on your lap and letting his hair hang down the overside of your lap. you made a slow and gentle pace as you began to carefully clean his hair for him and you noticed how he closed his eyes - in fear or contentment you don't know. you noticed his eyes barely moved and so you figured he wouldn't mind if you wove a small touch into his hair - a small braid that could hang loose. eventually you finished with his hair out and began to carefully sort it, once you were done you placed a small kiss to his forehead.

he opened his eyes to be met with you smiling back at him and his toothy grin worked it's way across his face and he sat up just for you to place his cowboy hat back atop his head. you knew how precious his hair was to him, it was part of what remained from his original body and he never wanted to lose it - keeping it at it's original length in pristine condition. you knew especially how much he trusted you just by allowing you to do this for him.

boothill was both a machine and a human. no matter how confident he seemed there would still be moments of weakness and realisation of his fate that had been decided for him and he never thought he would let someone see that from him. but here you where because at the end of the day he was your lover and you were his. his lover who made him feel whole again.

[faceeeeee]

Okay, so I can't stop thinking about your GOBB designs, and currently, your Flumbo is rotating around in my skull in the blorbo tumbler.

I NEED to know more.... please... I'm starving for blue mascot content 🙏😭💙 withering.... dying even (/silly)

(Side note: I'm being dramatic, no pressure to answer this at all /gen)

NONO IT'S OK I LOVE ANSWERING LORE ASKS! ALSO CBNCVBBCXBBVCNHV TYYYY💞💞💞💞💞😭😭😭😭😭❤️❤️💞💥💥💥 That man also had a chokehold on me like a week ago and with that I started developing more of his lore.

LORE TIME

OK SO- we know that flumbo is sort of a copy of banban, yes? A replacement if you will, meant to be the new face of the kindergarten. I imagine that his creation was due to Banban/Uthmans whole mess of bealiving that he is not indeed a 3 meter tall red thing (he was much more prone to having his outbursts back then and transform into hellish). So, they decided to make a replacement: a much better fit mascot, one who didn't bealive that he was human, one that looked healthy and strong. And that's when flumbo comes into frame. He is sort of the ideal mascot, one that completely embarces the fact that he is in fact non-human and that his only purpose is to entertain. Wether he likes it or not is irrelevant, the only thing that mattered to the staff was that he could perform well.

Now, why he was later thrown in the void and his mural drawing covered up with that of banban...I do not know. Cause the timeline ain't coherent but ignoring that-

Back to the whole "replacing" thing. The two of them later meet in Uthmans holding cell and one thing led to another and he goes berserk, making flumbo loose part of his horns and deal a lot of damage to him overall (his body kinda healed but the horns did not heheyyy). After that the two never met again and then we get to the current start of the security breach in the facility.

Why is this important? Well it adds up to the piles of reasons why flumbo absolutely loathes and resents uthman. Not because he lost his horns or whateva (well that too) but the fact that the one who should understand him, empathize with him bealives that he is separate fr him, that he's a human and also part of the staff that had tormented him and prodded at him. Uthman insisting that he's...well, uthman, infuriates him making them fight all over again.

One thing to note again is that flumbo fully bealives that he is just a creature, a thing to use. That made him completely seperate himself from humans, seeing them as lesser and as bugs to be crushed under him.

I had this crappy thing basically talking bout how he realised how weak humans actually are and deciding to take matters into his own hands (a.k.a kill em all)

And last but not least

🎉🎉🎉ANGST🎉🎉🎉🎉