#impressive…not

[neutron-stars-collision]

W 2022 roku na moim blogu pojawiły się 4983 posty

528 utworzonych postów (11%)

4455 zreblogowanych postów (89%)

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4406 moich postów w 2022 miało tagi

Tylko 12% moich postów nie miało tagów

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Longest Tag: 138 characters

#let’s yearn and long for the impossible all the while devouring pages upon pages of hellcheer fics to maintain the illusion that it’s fine

Moje najpopularniejsze posty w 2022:

Nr 5

Waiting for the Night

Bruce Wayne x F!Reader

Chapter 3 - Denial

Masterlist; Chapter 1; Chapter 2 Summary: Dealing with the ending of the stakeout isn't easy. Especially when the tension between you and Bruce doesn't seem to wane with time... Warnings: Swearing, some angst. Author's Notes: 5.3k and an update sooner than expected. This one is a little slower (aka a filler, but we don't use that word), but it also helps to develop the dynamics and sure as hell these two did surprise me. Hope you will enjoy this and feedback is always welcome ✨ Taglist: @thecraziestcrayon @kookiewastolen @imimsy @tuskens-mando

It took another jarring noise in the distance to make you flinch and remember where you were. And what was going on. God knows how long you had been stood like this, gazing into the eyes of Bruce fucking Wayne, of all people. Perhaps that shock was stronger than expected.

Unable to focus on anything, you took a step back, away from Bruce. His hand fell from your cheek as he stared, equally stunned by everything that happened. It was time to go.

“I… I want to go home” frowning at the hoarseness of your voice, you chose to stare at the pavement cracks.

It was hard to think, let alone face him again. Because you were not sure what had just happened and whether it was important. A headache began building in the back of your head, shadowing every thought with discomfort and tiredness. The last half hour felt like a nightmare, as though it could not have been real. But it was.

“Of course, I’ll… I can take you there, on the motorcycle” the proposition and hesitancy in Bruce’s tone made you glance at him, “If you want,” the blue irises had never left your face, eyes wandering over the features as though he was searching for something.

You did not dare what that could be. The concern you could see in his gaze was enough. Because Bruce Wayne should not care for you. And yet. Brushing off the warmth in your chest at the idea, you waved your hand and tried to put on the most convincing smile:

“There’s no need. I’ll be fine” even to your ears, it sounded like a terrible lie, but you pressed on, upon seeing doubt in his eyes, “Seriously,”

Only because coming back with Bruce sounded like something that could lead to a mistake. Because, now of all times, you did not trust your judgements or self-control. But, upon seeing the determination on his face, you knew that fight was nearing its finale.

“It’s better you’re not wandering alone at night. I told you it’s dangerous” the moment you noticed a hint of condescension in his voice, it was easy to tell what his tactic was.

And, a more terrifying thought, that he had seen right through you already and knew that it would work. Unwilling to ponder either option, you only cracked a small smile and replied under your breath:

“And, for once, I guess you were right, Wayne” tinge of bitterness made the corners of your eyes burn as you squeezed them shut.

You could not break down in front of him. It would not do. Even though he was right. And perhaps that’s why it hurt.

You could feel Bruce’s steady gaze, trying to read you like a book. Choosing to cut short his attempts, you allowed your eyes to meet his. For a second time this evening, there was no mask. No restraint in place, only the emotions you wanted him to see. Uncertainty, shame, shock, vulnerability were all there. In return, you received another long, searching look, followed by a simple question:

“What?” it was that husky, soft voice again, making it so much more difficult to defy him.

You knew he heard you. The confirmation was there, in the telling pause proceeding the question and in the unusual openness of his expression. As though. for once, Bruce wanted you to see him as he really was. The idea alone made the breath catch in your throat as the answer became glaringly obvious.

“Nothing. Alright, take me home” letting out a long breath, you tried to level the heartrate.

Bruce gave you one final searching look and started leading you through the darkened streets with purpose. Determined not to break down or let the shock consume you whole, you kept your gaze fixed on the ground, focusing your mind on counting the steps. Because anything was better than tearing apart what happened and trying to see whether you could have foreseen it. Because number one rule was not to let anyone see the weaknesses underneath. Or else it would be all lost.

Before you knew how long you had been walking, you felt a pat on your shoulder, making you stop in your tracks and look up. Bruce was standing next to his black motorcycle, eyeing you closely as though worried you still had not made up your mind. In an unconvincing reassurance, you smiled at him and filled in the address unprompted:

“Forrest street, do you know where that is?” glancing at the man, you stepped closer to the machine.

There was always that little bit of residual shame when forced to reveal your address. Because the area was known for its cheap housing and occasional drug busts. Because it was nothing like the Wayne Tower or the whole of the Diamond District. Judgement was to be expected. Only, looking up to meet Bruce’s gaze again, you did not find it. Instead, he gave you a curt nod and replied:

“Yeah, got it” the tone was as neutral as it could get as he hopped on the bike and started up the engine, “C’mon,” Bruce held out an additional helmet.

There was nowhere else to run. Ignoring the sudden onset of panic and unease, you climbed onto the motorcycle behind him and wound your arms around his waist. It felt strange, like something that should not be unexpected yet is, and there is nothing to be done about it. Upon the simple, necessary action, you felt Bruce tense, prompting a question to appear on the tip of your tongue:

“Is this alright?” there was no need to elaborate as you pressed your hands against the fabric of his jacket.

Feeling the material underneath your fingertips, increasingly aware of the consequences and the clamour in your mind. You were already taking it too far.

“Yes” before you could let the anxiety reign free, Bruce gave another simple answer and kicked up the stand.

The motorcycle came to life with a roar and a shudder, making you hug him tighter and press your cheek to his back as you made a U-turn in the darkened alley and drove onto the main street. The glow of the lamps soon became hazy as Bruce accelerated the speed and started winding through the maze of the city. At this hour, main roads and junctions were nearly empty. The city lights shone on the horizon as you zoomed past the bars and clubs, delving deeper into the crumbling urbanism of the cheaper districts.

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196 notek (opublikowanych w 17 kwietnia 2022)

Nr 4

Waiting for the Night

Bruce Wayne x F!Reader

Chapter 2 - In the Shadows

Masterlist; Chapter 1

Summary: The tentative cooperation with Bruce begins, much to his chagrin. With ambition and curiosity in the way, you try to make the best out of the circumstances. Only... it's not that easy when Mr Wayne is concerned.

Warnings: slight mention of non-con (as in the character is in danger, nothing happens, yet the implications are there and some nasty words too); swearing.

Author's Notes: Here it is, finally. 7.9k words of... something. As I plan to follow the film's plot later on, these two needed some bonding. So this is it. This dynamic is fun even though the Reader's actions are sometimes beyond me. She's a feisty one, I'll tell you that. Anyways...

I hope you'll enjoy this update and all feedback is very much appreciated!

Some things were difficult to forget and nearly impossible to ignore. Like that traumatic event from your childhood that no one ever mentioned again. Like that day you first realised you are entirely on your own. Like those damned blue eyes and matching cold reception, you could not shake off even after a few days.

So, you did what had to be done, slipping out of the office early or staying after hours to ask whoever could know anything interesting about the docks’ case. Because you knew that next time you set foot in the Wayne Tower, you must come bearing gifts. Or, perhaps, bearing knowledge. You wrote down every bit of information he could need. The type of weapon used by the murderer, where it could have been acquired. The various theories as towards the motifs, the strands of police’s inquiry and which belongs to which detective. Back in your apartment, you spent the evenings compiling the intel into a comprehensive file so Mr Wayne could use it however he needed. It was either that or scouting the internet for information on the man himself. An obsession? Nope, a case to crack, thank you very much.

Deciding when to come back to the Tower was a throw of a dice, more or less. One morning you woke up to find the window covered in raindrops, and it was done. And no, a dream featuring someone’s blue eyes did not influence it whatsoever. The adrenaline, which had kept you going for days, only did run out before you could press the doorbell, haunted by the golden plaque again. Because it made no fucking sense, burning through the walls of logic you tried to apply to stay sane. Still, it was happening. Ignoring the multiplying doubts, you forced your hand to press the button, again frowning at the piercing sound.

“Hello, my dear” Dory’s smile felt like a balm for the sore heart and ragged nerves.

And so did the recognition in her eyes, making you blurt out without a filter:

“I’d love to lie and say he’s expecting me-” the but got stuck on your tongue as she placed her hand on your shoulder, motioning for you to cross the threshold.

“Mr Wayne told me you’d be back. Come on. It’s dreadful outside” she threw a look full of despise towards the weather on the streets of Gotham and slammed the door shut behind her.

Now that was unexpected.

“Did he now?” you glanced at the maid with unhidden curiosity before muttering under your breath, “Interesting,”

While helpful, it was not what you had expected to happen nor prepared for. The knot in your stomach tightened during the journey up in the elevator, making you grateful to be left to your own devices this time. For a moment, you did wonder whether there would ever come a time when visiting Bruce Wayne would not feel like the worst mistake. There was no answer and lots of doubts, but there was no time to ponder them, for as soon as the cabin came to a standstill with a jerk, you stepped into the study. The confident smile already present on your face, acting as a mask.

The gothic interior once more made you gape as you scanned the horizon for the owner, spotting him hunched over a massive desk in the corner. With his back turned, you could stare a little longer then, taking note of the change in apparel. This time, he was wearing a hoodie, hiding the details of his posture in oversized clothing. The act of looking alone began to feel like a crime, so you took another step into the room and spoke up:

“Did you miss me?” the sweet tint to the vowels was not difficult to find when called for.

Bruce turned in the seat in a flash, eyeing you sharply:

“Of course, it’s you” the annoyance in his voice was already familiar, “What do you want?” so much that you did not blink twice when Bruce looked at you with disdain and stood up from the chair.

Despite yourself, you noticed a tiny change to the usual harsh treatment. This time, he immediately breached the space to address you without too many obstacles. As though he was a little curious about what you could offer. The spark warming up your chest was difficult to stifle. Using the bout of encouragement, you offered another smile and took the folder out of your bag to use it as bait:

“I’ve got some info you could use” as an unintended yawn interrupted your thought, you added, “And coffee, ideally,”

Bruce frowned as though you were a nuisance he did not want to deal with. But before either of you could make the next move, the door opened and closed, followed by a question:

“Bruce, who’s-” you turned towards the voice just as an older man entered the room, looking at you questioningly.

“This is the journalist I mentioned” you never had the chance to introduce yourself, for Bruce had cut right in, an unidentifiable emotion underneath the simple answer.

It was that mysterious feeling that made you show the stranger a bright grin and raise your hand in a half-wave:

“Hi, I’m the annoyance he has to deal with” why did it feel so exhilarating to say?; you crossed the space and offered the man a handshake, observing him closely, “Nice to meet you, sir,”

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261 notek (opublikowanych w 9 kwietnia 2022)

Nr 3

Rebel Yell?

Neil x Reader - One Shot

Masterlist

Summary: Neil needs to dye his hair once again. It proves to be harder than it may seem...

Warnings: Swearing, a whole deal of chaos.

Author's Notes: I don't even know. The shoot in question inspired me, because of course it did, and I tried to shut up the mean brain through writing. In result, this came to exist within 24h and is literally the shortest of drabbles. Hope you enjoy nonetheless!

Sat on the sofa, you minded your own business, utterly lost in the newest Ikea catalogue that just showed in the post box. Not that you had been planning any refurbishments. But who could ever say no to a peaceful afternoon spent scanning pages with the photos of perfectly white kitchen cabinets and minimalistic Scandinavian style bedrooms? Not you, that’s who.

With Niki sharing the space on the sofa and his head propped on your folded knees, it was almost too blissful.

So far that when you heard the first louder bang coming from the bathroom, you did not even bat an eyelid. But when that noise was followed by a bunch of louder ones and an impressive cursing, you glanced at the dog with concern and called out:

“You alright there?” a look in the direction of the bathroom gave you nothing.

It was one of those ‘roots dyeing’ days. And those could mean chaos, as you came to understand. You did not have to wait long for a response:

“Remember when you said I need more bleach to be like Billy Idol? Well… you just might’ve gotten yourself a discount version” the resignation in Neil’s voice was the driving force behind standing up from the sofa.

With a grin splitting your face, you marched towards the bathroom, curiosity piqued.

“Surely it can’t be that bad…” it was more of an assurance to yourself.

In haste, your foot slipped on the wood panels, and you managed to steady yourself by getting hold of the door handle last minute. Letting out an adrenaline-filled gasp, you opened the bathroom door wide, just as Neil muttered:

“Well…” he shot you a concerned look, reflected by the mirror he was facing.

It took you an additional second to register what was wrong with his hair. And then another to understand that it was no trick of the light. Up until the hairline, everything was fine. The same lean body with just the right amount of musculature and handsome face, now frowning into his reflection. But instead of the familiar dirty blonde, the damp strands were now platinum blonde. Quite like Idol’s back in the ‘80s. Your eyes widened as the jarring image created a harsh dissonance with your reality. Finally, after what felt like minutes, you managed to gasp out three words:

“Jesus fucking christ,” the dam opened as you folded in laughter with the tears streaming down your face, “Fucking hell, I can’t-” unable to breathe, you took in greedy inhales and tried to calm down.

It took another few minutes of standing with your back against the shower door. Neil, however, did not seem to share your joy. He had not moved since you came in, still transfixed on the image in the mirror.

“I know, it’s a disaster” the brooding voice acted like a wake-up call.

You needed one more look at his sombre expression to step forward and run your hand up his back, propping your chin on his shoulder:

“I’ve seen worse” sending him a reassuring smile you placed a quick kiss on the nape of Neil’s neck.

Precisely on the beauty spot. Leaning back, you caught the uncertainty in his gaze.

“Did you?” the scepticism dripped from the words as he glanced at you sideways.

Restless fingers combing through the strands with revulsion visible in every move. That would not do.

“Mm…” you nodded and embraced him, pressing your body against his back “You’re still bloody gorgeous, so there’s that” a wink as your hands trailed over his chest, taking pleasure in the way he trembled slightly “Even when you’re pouting like a starving Lab,” the addition said just to make Neil crack a smile.

Once he did, you placed another kiss on his shoulder and let your eyes roam over his reflection. Even though wildly ridiculous, the hair took nothing from his beauty, helping the blue of his eyes stand out more.

“Careful, or he’ll hear you” Neil threw a cautious glance towards the corridor and then back at you, frown still present on the beautiful face, “No, but seriously, what do I do now? I can’t look like this” he made a vague hand gesture at the knotted strands with despair in the voice.

Yet it was clear that the initial crisis was averted, for Neil placed his free hand on yours, returning the embrace and acknowledging the tenderness. You could work with that sort of attitude. Reaching out to tangle your fingers in his hair, you leaned in to take a closer look. Obviously, you will help him. For better or worse, considering the lack of experience. After the initial study, you met Neil’s gaze reflected in the mirror and answered the unasked question:

“I’ll pop to the shop tomorrow and buy some darker blonde developer, and it… should be fine” you tried to mask the missing confidence with a grin.

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280 notek (opublikowanych w 13 lutego 2022)

Nr 2

I'm still screaming about the fact that during the Forest Scene™️ we saw a glimpse into Eddie that we never got after that. The way he was acting around Chrissy, the perceptiveness, the charm and nervousness masked with goofiness and softness. He wasn't behaving like that around anybody else. And that means something.

I mean, what was that???

422 notki (opublikowane w 27 października 2022)

Mój post nr 1 w 2022

Waiting for the Night

Bruce Wayne x F!Reader

Chapter 1 - Nocturnal Animals

Masterlist; Chapter 2

Summary: Desperate for a scoop (and a pay rise), you scout Gotham for anything of interest. When you cross paths with the mysterious Drifter, you decide to use the chance to spark up a fruitful cooperation.

Warnings: Swearing.

Author's Notes: ... Hi *waves*. Yes, that's a new series because it seems like Rob's characters tend to make themselves at home in my head. I wanted to develop Bruce a little more and this idea came to exist quite quickly. Reader is a journalist in need of a topic, Bruce is out on the streets... and the rest is history :))) Slow burn as always since that's my specialty (apparently).

I hope you'll enjoy this introduction and I'll greatly appreciate feedback!

The only pretty thing in Gotham during the fall was the way neon lights reflected in the puddles of the alleyways and street corners. The myriad of colours and slogans tinted the darkness with a sense of something bigger than the wet tarmac and slippery pavement slabs. Only, that light did not get everywhere, creating niches in the city’s fabric, where no ray of hope could ever permeate. That is where the crime skyrocketed, no matter the season. That is where scoop and intel were found. Conveniently.

Adjusting your hood for the umpteenth time, you frowned as another cold drop of rain slid inside your coat. In October, even waterproofing hardly did its job; especially one four years old and long past its prime. But it did not matter. Your eyes restlessly scanned the surroundings, mindful of anything that could be of interest. Because while murders in Gotham were hardly the breaking news type novelties, a serial killer on the loose, seemingly connected to the city’s elites, was quite the concept. A case to crack and the potential of a pay rise. Something you could not deny yourself, considering the tightness of the pockets and emptiness of the bank account. In short, you needed to find something worth writing about. Something worth covering by the GC1. Or else… No.

There was no time for that. Having made it to the docks, you stopped, hiding underneath the roof of an abandoned warehouse. The last victim had been found here, stabbed multiple times with an unidentified weapon. Potentially – a meat hook. Which did sound lovely, you had to admit. Having left the apartment that evening, you were led with the idea that maybe back at the crime scene, you could discover crucial evidence everyone had missed. Now, drenched, tired and disheartened, you realised how wrong you were. There was nothing left aside from the rain, the murky water by the docks and the foul stench of trash and urine. The police had cleared everything.

With a resigned sigh, you took a quick round of the area, taking photos with your phone. Apart from a few unidentified objects lying on the ground and rusty spots you could hope was the residual blood, there was nothing.

“Fuck,” a soft curse escaped your pursed lips, ringing out in the quiet alleyway.

Finding absolutely nothing meant another stressful debrief in the morning. And you have had enough of those already. With the mind half-focused on the idea of heading back home and drowning the sorrows in a glass of cheap red wine, the unmistakable roar of the chopper pierced the ambience and made you look up.

At the sky first, using the instinct whole of Gotham had acquired throughout the last few months. Because once the signal had been lit no one could rest easy, watching the shadows with anticipation of what came next. But tonight, the light was off. The masked vigilante, the Bat-Man, Vengeance… there’s been many names and even more theories about his identity. No one knew when he appeared or when he left the scene. Having heard rumours, you held your breath until the black motorcycle appeared on the horizon. It was not him. Or at least it did not look like it was.

Your target parked the vehicle on the opposite end of the warehouse spaces. You observed, hidden in the shadows, as the man took off the black helmet and stood up, quickly pulling up a black hood over the head. He was moving with purpose, throwing a non-descript backpack over his shoulder and heading towards the abandoned building. With curiosity, you watched as he kicked open the chained door and disappeared inside with the clank of metal. Now that was a way of investigating you had not thought of yet…

For a moment, you wanted to follow him, to satisfy the curiosity as fast as possible and (hopefully) get some answers. But then reason kicked in, with yet another sigh, you backed into the shadows, waiting for the stranger to return. After all, no one sane would leave a motorcycle like that unattended for too long. Once he appeared fifteen minutes later, you were ready. Keeping away from the light, you skirted around the area and approached him without making a sound. A handy chat-up line on the tip of your tongue:

“Visiting the crime scene, are we?” once the man looked up at you with surprise evident in the abruptness of his reaction, you grinned.

Even with the flickering streetlights, it was hard to make out his features. You could see sharp edges of the jawline, slightly crooked nose and wide eyes, their intense stare intriguing.

“Who are you?” his voice was hoarse as though he was not used to speaking.

The sharp edge to the vowels told you the stranger was not easily intimidated. Yet your appearance was unexpected. His lips were pursed as he stiffened, clearly bracing himself against what would come next.

Perhaps he was the case you could crack…

“I could ask the same question, Mr…?” leaving out the opening, you waited for a beat before adding in a faux disappointed tone, “I see. Well, I can’t blame you for snooping around this case is quite the sensation” making sure to drop the bait, you watched him closely.

There was no apparent reaction. The man threw a nervous look towards the alley’s exit and then glanced back at you. As your eyes adjusted to the half-light, you could see more of his face. The chiselled features and fascinating eyes drew you in despite caution. Yet you still did not know who it could be. He did not look like your usual thug or a drophead, and you would bet he was not one of the Falcone’s. So… who?

“What do you mean?” your internal ruminations got cut short with a simple question.

The enticement worked. Pasting on a mysterious half-smile, you stepped closer to the stranger and lowered your tone to a confidential whisper:

“The usual… Corruption, Gotham’s finest… perhaps some revenge to trigger it all and… boom” with pleasure you noticed that the man seemed transfixed on your story “Here we are. I wonder who’s next” it was a simple deal, two people wanting something out of the conversation.

A game you were willing to play. Even if to understand more about the case and the mysterious drifter. Something shifted in his eyes, acceptance replacing the previous uncertainty. An agreement had been reached without either of you laying out the terms. Feeling an inexplicable rush of adrenaline, you awaited the question as the man thought hard. Once he looked up again, you allowed yourself to stare at him intently as he asked:

“Do you think the killer is after the people in power?” the innocence in his voice made you throw a cheeky grin to the mix.

For whatever reason, you felt like extending the conversation if he was willing. The rain and damp clothes faded into the background as you eyed him closely, thinking on the next move:

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438 notek (opublikowanych w 23 marca 2022)

Zobacz Przegląd roku 2022 już teraz →

[bosspigeon]

so bc i am a Gross Dude my friends i and sometimes rate our burps and my coworker (who is a teen girl) burped in front of me once and i instinctively rated it

so now every time she burps she looks to me hopefully for a rating and bc she has delicate little baby burps i now have to create an entirely new Burp Rating System unique to her bc i rate anything below a 5 and she looks at me like this

[badolmen]

People against piracy fail to realize that no, I can’t just ‘buy it.’ They stopped making DVDs and Blu-Rays. They’re barely offering digital copies for download. I am not spending money I could use for food or bills to pay for a subscription service just so I can always have access to a beloved piece of media. Especially not when the service will remove media on a whim without concern for how the loss of access to that piece will make its artistic conservation nigh impossible.

For example, I recently learned that Disney+ had an original film called Crater. It’s scifi, family friendly, and seems cool - I would love to buy it as a holiday gift for my little brother! But: it’s exclusive to D+ and THEY REMOVED IT LITERALLY MONTHS AFTER ITS RELEASE.

The ONLY way I can directly access this film is through piracy. The ONLY available ‘copies’ of this film are hosted on piracy websites. Disney will NEVER release it in theaters, or as something to buy, and it may NEVER return to the streaming service. It will be LOST because we aren’t allowed to purchase it for personal viewing. If I can’t pay to own it, I won’t pay for the privilege of losing it when corporate decides to put it in a vault.

So yes, I’m going to pirate and support piracy.

[sabertoothwalrus]

this is one of the funniest bits kabru ever did

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Dog Meshi.

[flock-talk]

So the shower perch fell off the wall today and Mia got a bit more water than she bargained for

[mangozic]

archivist be upon ye

[cuprumbao]

angel plumbers

[foolsocracy]

they barge into justice league meetings saying they have something very important to show them. and do stuff like this

[lungthief]

listen. i know it's not 2014 anymore and i know it's just a throwaway line and that the russo brothers didnt intend for marvel action blockbuster captain america the winter soldier to become the tragic gay love story that never was but man. having steve say "it's kind of hard to find someone with shared life experience" in a conversation about romantic relationships right before the bucky reveal is so cruel. it's not just about steve and bucky obviously having the shared experience of being "out of time," it's the fact that they've both been stripped of their humanity in opposite directions. steve is a legend, he is an american hero and a national icon before he is a human being the same way that bucky is a weapon and a killing machine before he is a human being. steve knows that anyone who falls in love with him in the 21st century fell in love with captain america first, and that's just not him. but then the one person who knew him first and knew him best and loved him (not captain america, that little guy from brooklyn) so much he died for it is alive, impossibly. and it's a miracle because he's back and it's horrific because he's back under the worst possible circumstances. but to steve, the winter soldier is worth tearing the world apart for because he's always been bucky first. they find each other and suddenly they're human again. and maybe, despite it all, being "out of time" becomes a blessing, because in this century they'd finally be allowed to love each other the way they've always wanted to. like real people do.

like. no. the captain america trilogy isn't about two queer men traumatized and alienated by war and modern life rediscovering and reclaiming their humanity through their love for each other. but. i mean. it couldve been

[hoarart]

ah, poor demon

he is not responsible for his actions

[chloesimaginationthings]

FNAF Afton kids got interesting coping mechanisms

[dutchs-blog]

Winter Wonderland

[anyataylorjoys]

MONKEY MAN 2024, dir. Dev Patel

[mik0kat]

any tiger zoro fans?

[igor-shestyorkin]

THE NHL????