You're on camera.

This is a game of roulette. | est. 2010

[halfgrins]

Man-made creatures living beneath your skin. An anthology.

You can call me grim.

I'm over the age of 25 and burnt out.

I've been around for too long and have no 'rules' other than be of age (18+) as my content can be explicit.

I don't write smut on dash (I'm also picky so I don't write it often).

I write when I’m willing to write, so replies will have gaps of silence. 

This blog is essentially an anthology. There will be no standard profiles as there are too many.

Read the anthology and send a meme. If you're overwhelmed by choice, I'll pick for you. Think of it as a game of roulette...

[obstrict]

• Touching their lips to silence them, ( TIER )

He stood with his back to the low-burning hearth, arms crossed. The room was quiet, save for the soft crackle of flames and the ticking of the grandfather clock across the room — tick, tock — a sound he wouldn’t normally notice, but tonight it scraped at his patience like a dull blade. Tier had been watching him for too long. Zero could feel it even though he hadn’t bothered to look.

“Whatever it is you think I’m going to say,” he uttered, his voice low, weeping with apathy. “You’re wrong.”

Tier didn’t answer.

Instead, he approached with the kind of slow and confident gait that made Zero’s shoulders tighten. No hurry, nor fear, just a quiet arrogance that always walked two steps ahead of danger, almost as if Tier knew even the worst wouldn’t touch him. The space between them evaporated quickly, and before he could fully turn to face him, the elder was already close enough that he could see the faint glint of amusement buried deep behind his lashes.

“I’m not in the mood.” He spat flatly, cold eyes meeting his.

That was when Tier raised his hand. Not to strike, not to grab. No. He reached up and touched Zero’s lips — two fingers, light as a breath, the pads of them resting over the line of his mouth.

He went still from the sheer gall of it, that Tier had the fucking audacity to touch him in such a manner. His jaw flexed beneath the touch, but he doesn’t pull away. Not while the other’s eyes were fixated on him like that, calm and amused. They weren’t searching for a reaction, they were daring one.

The silence between them deepened, weighted and pointed. until Tier finally murmured, voice low. “You’re doing it again. Talking too much.”

A slow breath coiled in Zero’s chest. He could’ve broken the hand. He could’ve shattered every bone in Tier’s wrist before the man had time to blink. But he didn’t. Not because he couldn’t, but because that’s exactly what the other would have wanted. Something sharp, messy even, and he refused to give them the satisfaction.

He lifted one brow, narrowed his eyes, and in a voice far quieter than before, and threatened — “Move your hand, or lose it.”

[ongshimi]

red haired ricky for @crazyfcrm !

[halfgrins]

"i shouldn't be this close."

It wasn’t as if either of them had a choice in the matter. It was clear he was being hunted by the soldiers assigned to collect some of his repayment. He’d been short the last time they had found him, but that was on purpose. The debt he’d been paying off for his deceased parents never seemed to dip past a certain amount, so it never felt like his money was doing him any good on that front. So, for now, he’d been avoiding their trail and using anything and everything to conceal his whereabouts. 

“Don’t get shy on me now.” Tier mused in a hushed whisper as he had trapped both of them behind a large bookcase with a covered backing. It was one of his various hiding places – his favorite. The library kept plenty of his secrets. The librarians also just so happen to be very acquainted with him. 

Tier’s body pressed Zero into the wall with his lips close to the apple of their cheek. With narrowed eyes, he listened to the heavy steps of vampiric soldiers crossing between rows and rows of shelves and dusty texts. They would never find him here as they weren’t allowed a thorough investigation during public hours. 

The concubine had his hands and forearms framing Zero’s body as they rested on the wall. It wouldn’t be too long now before they could escape this restrictive space. He would have hidden alone, but he wasn’t trusting that Zero wouldn’t tell on him. No, he had to make sure this one was with him at all costs. 

He would have said more, but the last thing he wanted was to make them panic. It’s a shame. How amusing would it have been to tell them that this was the perfect time for a kiss. 

[eterneli]

"It's like we're on a date."

The Last of Us — Accepting.

The speakeasy is dead quiet, cloaked in the kind of stillness that only exists behind locked doors and drawn velvet curtains. The air holds the last traces of incense, something dark and earthy, curling around the low lights like ghost smoke. Outside, the city moves on without them. Inside, it feels like time has stepped back, like the walls themselves are holding their breath.

Baekhyun moves behind the bar with mechanical ease, sleeves rolled to his forearms, pale skin catching soft glints of amber under the stained-glass lamps. He pours with precision, unhurried, the bottle tilting just enough to let the liquor fall slow and deliberate into the glasses he's chilled minutes earlier.

Seungjun sits across from him, posture relaxed but eyes watchful, the dim light catching the dull gleam of the ring on his hand and the sharp line of his jaw. A half-smile tugs at his lips — more provocation than warmth — as he watches Baekhyun move. There's something unreadable in his gaze, something ancient and tired and a little too familiar.

Baekhyun doesn't laugh. Doesn't smile. Doesn't even blink.

He caps the bottle, sets it down, and finally looks up — his expression unimpressed, his gaze sharp.

"If this is a date," he says flatly, voice cut from glass and disdain, "then I'll start lighting candles and writing my will."

He slides the drink across the bar with a practiced flick, the glass coming to a stop right in front of Seungjun.

"You're lucky I didn't lace it with wolfsbane."

He leans back against the shelves, arms crossed, letting the low light cast sharp lines across his cheekbones.

"But sure," he adds, deadpan. "Let's call this romance. I'll let you pick out our matching coffins."

And maybe he's a little amused — just a little — as a lopsided grin creeps up the corner of his lips.

[kim-jiwoong]

[halfgrins]

@eterneli

The air in the private room was thick — velvet-drenched and humming low with the muffled pulse of bass seeping through the walls, a heartbeat borrowed from the world just outside the door. The lighting was low, golden, casting long shadows across Baekhyun's sharp features, catching faint glimmers in the silver hardware of the rings on his fingers. A crystal decanter sat untouched between them, the amber liquid inside catching the glow like liquid fire, but neither of them had reached for it in a while. Baekhyun's fingertips continue their lazy orbit along the rim of his glass, his posture deceptively relaxed. Predatory, even in repose. The glint in his crimson eyes — eyes that should've never belonged to anything human — never leaves Seungjun. "So you're basically implying that some of me was good?" A faint scoff. His lips barely twitch upward, the kind of smile that doesn't reach anywhere near kindness. "Didn't take you for a soft-hearted idiot." There was no venom in it — just that cold, beautiful finality Baekhyun had perfected. Like a knife laid flat on the table, not yet drawn but always close. "I have no time left to be good, Seungjun. I make do with what I get..." He finally leans forward, elbows on the table, shadows deepening around the hollows of his face. The scar along his collarbone caught the light like a whispered memory. "...and if you don't like it —" The words come out low and slow, almost intimate. "— get the fuck out of my way." A beat. Outside the room, laughter spilled faintly from the bar floor, muted and meaningless. Inside, it was just them, two men carved by regret and blood and things no one else would understand. And Baekhyun — always ten steps ahead — watched Seungjun like a man studying a painting he'd once destroyed with his own hands. The silence that followed wasn't empty. It dared Seungjun to speak.

Baekhyun couldn’t derail him, and Seungjun could find a hundred excuses to explain why. It starts with their fingertips. A slow, yet muted glide against the porcelain rim. It was meant to be disarming; it was a distraction to the illusion of safety within the room. Their circling finger is used as an allegory for their relationship. Around and around they’d dance on a winding edge where Seungjun was certain that if he stepped in the wrong direction, he’d either fall into an escape or be swallowed. 

Seungjun was plenty of things, but an idiot was far from the list. “Does that mean you’ll take me in another way?”

Their words, he narrows his eyes at them. He enjoyed challenges, so his lowered gaze held no animosity. It was more contemplative. He was taking his time and enjoying the intimacy that was presented to him in such a low-frequency threat. It made the tips of his fingers vibrate in subdued excitement. Over the years, his over-the-top nature had become a little more controlled. That didn’t mean much, though. It only compelled him to think a bit more before acting. 

Instead of leaning forward, his hand reaches to take a light hold of their chin. Three fingers. Thumb, pointer, and middle. Seungjun was a possessive creature by nature, but not of Baekhyun - not yet. The vampire still held too many cards in their favor, and though he wasn’t necessarily afraid of him, he was careful enough. It felt like irony. When he was full of humanity and had everything he could want, he felt as though he had nothing to lose. Now that he’s lost his humanity, he feels as though he has everything to lose. 

“And you got me, so what will you do now?” he responds with a subtle tilt of their head upwards. “If I didn’t know any better, you seem flattered by what I said.” A slow brush of his thumb against their skin, and his hand retreats from the risk of having it torn off. What a beautiful thing. 

“You’re in a good mood. Happy birthday to me.”

[choseungyuon]

WOODZ Y Magazine Sketch Film [coloring]

[halfgrins]

why the fuck are you so obsessed with my lips?

The trials and tribulations of today’s clients would come as a flurry of whimsical colors. Each scent carries a rich memory blurred by the smoke of incense that burned their existence into the decorated walls and colored sheets. His skin was littered by the lipstick marks of the last woman he escorted into his room. He’d been warned against taking male clients until the purple banding around his neck from an extremist had faded. Typically, he would be kept away from clientele if his skin had been bruised, but his female clients were doting and demanded to ‘ease his pain’ and ‘erase’ the trauma that he’d endured. 

Women were a blessing. 

Tier stands out on his balcony in a jewel colored robe that slipped off his right shoulder. The purple bruising had almost completely faded and was half hidden behind smudges of red lipstick that trailed the columns of his neck. She had mentioned something about apologizing for the aggression of man. He could still feel the tender sensation of her mouth and the heat of her breath. It was time for a bath, but of course, a particular male vampire was standing below his balcony like some sort of Romeo. 

“You came all this way just to ask me that?” he placed his hands on the white marbled railing and stared down at Zero with a clear look of amusement.

His features were naturally sharp, though he always kept a soft expression despite them. It was all the lessons that were engraved into him by his caretaker. That old woman knew exactly what kind of concubine would get the attention of the gender spectrum. Tier’s body was strong and masculine, but his face was sly and feminine. At best, he was androgenous. 

“Isn’t it obvious, Love? These ears of mine get tired, so if I can occupy your lips, then perhaps they’ll be able to rest.” That was his charming way of saying, ‘you talk too much shit and I want to shut you up.’

There’s a half smile on his face as he leans over the railing. It wasn’t that high up, and if Zero really wanted to, he could find a way to climb over.  “I wouldn’t even charge you for it as we’d be doing each other a favor.”

Pieces of his long red hair now draping over his exposed shoulder as if to cover his mild indecency. “For the record, I wouldn’t consider it an obsession. It’s more of a passion. I’m passionate about your lips doing more than speaking.” Tier is teasing him. Intimacy wasn’t for everyone, and Zero didn’t seem like the type of man who would seek it out. 

[halfgrins]

‘  your fingers are so cold  &  bruised,  but you’re still slamming your fists again the barricade as if it makes a difference.  ’

Days turn into weeks that turn into months until years have passed. How long has it been since he’s seen the other side? The physical barricades between him and the life he once had were sealed behind metal gates. The ones in his mind look the same. He had too much pride to fully admit to the amount of time that he’s spent staring at the gates and wondering when they’d open for him. The debt that crippled him and killed his parents never seemed to get any lower. There was always an extra tax, fee, or related interest that would inflate his goal. It was twice the height of this gate if he could picture it in his mind while he stared through the rain at the ornate structure. 

Tier wasn’t a violent vampire, but perhaps at one point he was; otherwise, why would his knuckles bleed as they were? The sting of the rainfall doesn’t do much to distract him from the turmoil he feels staring at this particular gate. Not even the sight of his breath puffed into the air like smoke could tether him back to reality. His red hair seemed to be the only color in this monochrome world he’d stepped into. He’d been so lost in thought that he didn’t even sense Zero’s approach. 

How embarrassing. 

Tier’s eyes, naturally iridescent, were slow in their attention towards Zero, whose relatively dry appearance under a large umbrella felt like a mockery to his wet one. 

“Well, Love, it doesn’t hurt to try.”

His usual festive adornments and layered colored silks were tarnished the moment he stepped out into the rain. They were gifts from his beautiful clients - seamstresses of all ages who enjoyed draping his figure in fabrics that elevated his beauty. A beauty that was now hiding among the blood and mud. These clothes were ruined just like the skin on his knuckles. He’d have to find a good excuse to tell the head of the brothel; An older woman with dollar signs for eyes. 

Tier sighs as he looks back at the gates. They weren’t opening, and no one would come out to see him. 

“At least I have you, don’t I?” weightless sarcasm towards the other vampire that would last as long as he stood there staring at the metal in front of him. It was depressing at best. He turns his back to keep the gates out of view and makes an attempt to return to his ‘nature’ or whatever role he assumed when he wasn’t in anguish. 

“Interesting that you’d know my hands are cold without holding them. Do you want to check or keep staring at me? I understand how pitiful I may seem, but I can assure you that a little pity does pay off.” @obstrict

[aufleur]

@halfgrins —

Jimin didn’t like waiting.

The clearing was quiet save for the restless wind combing through the trees and the occasional crackle of pine needles beneath her boots. High above, the clouds hung low and heavy, threatening rain but never quite delivering. She stood at the edge of the field, arms folded across her chest, watching the distant tree line like it might breathe.

A single kunai turned idly in her fingers, a habit more than a threat, the edge seemed sharp with intent.

Her chakra had been agitated all morning, running hot beneath her skin. The strange, electric itch she only got when something in her wanted to burn. She hadn’t slept, hadn’t eaten. She didn’t need to. There was no room for softness in the days leading up to the Chūnin Exams, no time to waste.

There was a sudden shift in the air, followed by the scrape of wheels over dirt and a clumsy thud that broke through the air. She sensed him before she saw him, but her gaze didn’t shift immediately. She let the silence settle for a little longer, just to see if he’d speak first. When he didn’t, her voice slipped out.

“Fifteen minutes late.”

He didn’t apologize. Of course he didn’t.

“I said noon,” she added, finally turning her head to look at him. Her eyes met his, unwavering and unbothered, as she stepped forward, closing the distance between them with the same stillness a flame had just before it ignited.

Her eyes flicked once to the bat slung across his back.

“How quaint,” she murmured, then raised her hand — a seal already forming between her fingers. The temperature shifted, the wind stilled. Then — crack. A burst of fire erupted behind her like a breath of a dragon held too long in her lungs, flaring once, then gone.

“Show me you’re worth my time, Seongho,” she challenged, settling into her stance. “Or go home.”

[halfgrins]

Seungho didn’t like waiting. 

There he was, standing behind a group of ninjas who couldn’t make up their minds on what to order from the food stall. They had been going back and forth on the type of fillings they wanted in their rice balls because, for some reason, they couldn’t all get different flavors. No, they had to agree on the same one. Their lack of individuality and decision-making made him even more impatient. 

“Just get the fucking snow crab! It’s the best one!” he exploded, startling the entire group. If only it had ended there. They weren’t so fond of his outburst, and because Seungho wasn’t someone who would take any negative comments lightly, a brawl was inevitable. Unfortunately, it was a 3 versus 1 fight. At the end of it, not only did he not get his food, but he was chased out of the area and was now late for his meet-up with Jimin. 

Great. Great. 

Battered and bruised, the wheels of his skateboard get caught on an uneven stone. All he sees are blurs of colors as he goes flying onto a patch of grass with a thud. Chest to grass, there’s a low groan emitting from the back of his throat. He starts to wonder which past Hokage he must have pissed off today for all the bad luck he was receiving. 

Jimin’s less-than-impressed comment about his tardiness goes unanswered. He prefers to look away from the direction of her voice after meeting her gaze. There’s no way he’s going to admit to her the reason behind his late arrival. He’d rather be tortured. 

At this point, he had already gotten up off the ground. His hands are now dusting the front of his clothes to remove the dirt. There are specs of blood staining a few spots here and there. It wasn't his.

The sound of a crack alerts him, and he immediately goes on the defense with his hand reaching back to grip the handle of his baseball bat. In an instant, it turns a lightning blue as it’s imbued with his chakra. 

Seungho still doesn’t look at her. Even in the face of a challenge, a girl was a girl. His eyes close, and he uses his chakra to enhance his sense of hearing. It would be the only way he could fight her. Thankfully, he’d become more adept at fighting blind. 

“Wh-what the hell does that mean?”  a click of his tongue. What a handicap. He needs to get over this personality trait of his because it’s only a hindrance. “Don’t forget who won the last match.”

He took the opportunity to strike first with his bat and only peeks his eyes open when he turns his head away. 

[gloomglimmer]

›       TENSION   LINER   PROMPTS     

"I   dare   you   to   try."

"Do   you   always   get   close?"

"You’re   pushing   my   limits."

"Stop   looking   at   me   like   that."

"I’m   losing   control   here."

"You   have   no   idea,   do   you?"

"I   can’t   resist   you   anymore."

"Stay   back,   or   don’t."

"I   know   what   you   want."

"This   is   getting   dangerous   now."

"You’re   too   tempting   for   me."

"I   shouldn’t   want   this,   but…"

"I   don’t   play   fair,   remember?"

"Careful,   you’re   testing   me."

"You’re   just   making   it   worse."

"You’re   too   close   for   comfort."

"Do   you   always   push   buttons?"

"Stop   before   I   kiss   you."

"You’re   making   it   too   hard."

"I   can’t   stop   thinking   about   you."

"I   want   you   too   much."

"You   know   exactly   what   you’re   doing."

"I’m   not   playing   games   here."

"You’ve   crossed   the   line   now."

"Keep   pushing,   and   you’ll   regret   it."

"This   is   dangerous,   isn’t   it?"

"I’m   trying   not   to   care."

"Don’t   make   me   regret   this."

"You’re   playing   with   fire."

"You   don’t   know   what’s   coming."

"I   shouldn’t   be   this   close."

"We’re   getting   dangerously   close   now."

"I   can   feel   the   heat."

"Don’t   test   me   right   now."

"I   want   you   too   badly."

"Don’t   make   me   chase   you."

"You’re   distracting   me,   you   know."

"I   won’t   fall   for   this."

"I   want   you,   but…"

"What   do   you   want   from   me?"

"I’ll   never   give   in."

"I’m   trying   not   to   care."

"You’re   playing   with   my   patience."

"Don’t   make   this   harder,   please."

"I   can’t   stop   this   feeling."

"I’m   already   in   too   deep."

"You   won’t   walk   away   unscathed."

"You’re   walking   a   fine   line."

"I’m   trying   to   stay   calm."

"What   are   you   doing   to   me?"

[halfgrins]

all of my replies, keepsakes, starters, and photos have been q'd. it will be post once a day simply because I will be away starting Wednesday for about a week. consider it a sexy slow burn.

I will still be taking memes in the meantime.

[eterneli]

Baekhyun let the silence hang just long enough for it to sting. His expression didn’t change, not at the word monster, nor at the self-pity laced behind Seungjun's smile. Instead he simply scoffed — dry, humorless.

"You’re dramatic," he mutters flatly, not bothering to meet Seungjun’s gaze as he turned his attention back to the open book before him. "You’re not dying... yet. You’re just inconveniently occupied."

The pages of the thick tome whispered against his gloved fingers as he flipped through it, eyes scanning rapidly, tongue pressed to the inside of his cheek. One book. Then another. Then a third. He shifted slightly in his seat, muttering something inaudible under his breath — possibly in an older dialect, possibly just profanity.

After another minute, Baekhyun paused.

His finger tap twice against a yellowed page, the ink curling in elegant, archaic script. "Found something."

He doesn't look up. Just begins reading aloud, tone neutral:

"Soul tethering is reversible. Depending on the number of entities attached and their state of unrest, one must choose between transference or release. A soul may be sealed into an object — though containment requires emotional resonance. Think horcrux, if you’re feeling poetic."

Baekhyun finally glances up, his gaze sharp now, cutting through the haze like a scalpel.

"Or," he continues, flipping the page, "if you're feeling generous, a portal can be conjured. Not easy. Needs anchoring, a tether strong enough to split realms without collapsing. Blood helps. Yours preferably. But that’s the noble option."

He leans back slightly in his chair, eyeing Seungjun with faint amusement now — though it never quite reached his mouth.

"So." A pause. "Glass prison or open door. What kind of monster do you want to be?"

[halfgrins]

In his world, Baekhyun was undeniably average. He’d dealt with creatures, monsters, and people like him before. The pseudo King had an uncanny way of luring out power dynamics. It was the way Baekhyun’s voice remained flat despite the light insult, and the way they avoided meeting his gaze as if to say that he wasn’t worth the time to be seen. 

Seungjun’s favorite reaction, though, was that sharpened gaze of theirs. For someone - no, some thing - who enjoyed their own superiority, Seungjun found it laughable how predictable it all was. Everything he perceived so far was, for lack of a better term, ordinary. 

Perhaps this was the reason why he preferred to be ‘dramatic’. He considered counting how many times he’d feel the cut of their stare. A fun personal wager. The only loser would be the vampire.

“Don’t flirt with me so openly. I wear my heart on my sleeve,” he responds, having never looked away from them. Those red eyes were cold and unfeeling. Not even the glow of the yellow lightbulbs could warm them. It was a shame considering how pretty he thought they were. 

“Prison.” It was an easy answer. There was something in his gut telling him that not everything he was concealing was meant to be released. He wasn’t exactly sure why, but this would be a way to find out. “Feel free to tell me how much you expected that answer.” Pause. “Or,” he continued, “if you’re feeling extra nonchalant today, how you didn’t care either way.” Seungjun had his arms out with a shrug. His eyes closed briefly, and though he didn’t reveal the smile behind his now neutral expression outright, it was clear he was having his fun. 

His arms find their way back to the armrests. “You remind me of someone. A pretty bird trapped in a cage. A nightingale,” he says quietly while propping up an elbow and rubbing his upper lip with the side of his finger. “Mm,” A thoughtful hum, “I don’t know what it is about vampires, but you’re all the same in the beginning.” There’s that smile again. "Cold and mean or aggressive and exceptionally violent. My little nightingale... he used to sing to me,” He breaks his stare to sink into a memory. “It was always about how much he wasn’t into me. He used to look at me the same way you do. He was dry, boring, and also thought I was dramatic. I used to stick my arm against his mouth for fun.” A soft laugh escapes him. 

“But one day… he flew away,” he readjusts in his seat to lean his elbows on his knees towards Baekhyun. “I never locked the cage. You see… There was never a cage to begin with. That was in his head. He put himself there until he realized he could leave whenever he wanted.”

Seungjun stares at Baekhyun with his smile reaching his eyes. “That’s all just to say that… I love the way you sing, too.”

Boring was fine by him.

[sunwooyeon]

JUYEON for DAZED April

scans. since19980115

[obstrict]

❛  go on, no one will hear your screams.  ❜ - Tier, (The counterfeit prince, male concubine, also a vampire of once an elite class of soldier)

He felt the blade before he saw it.

A flash of movement, the whisper of silk against flesh - and then pain, sharp and immediate, blooming under his ribs like something rotten finally tearing free. Zero staggered. His boots carved deep furrows in the dirt, a breathless curse caught in the back of his throat as blood spilled between his fingers, dark and hot. The strike had slipped past his guard like it had been there before he even moved; meant to wound, not to kill.

But it was too fucking close.

Tier stood a few paces away, weapon still drawn, his chest rising slow and steady. No taunt. No smirk. Just the faintest tilt of his head as he watched Zero bleed. Calm, beautiful. Drenched in quiet menace.

Of course Tier wasn't here to win, he was here to humiliate him.

He watched as the elder stepped closer, gaze never leaving his. No rush, no mercy. His voice, when it came, was soft enough to be mistaken for kindness if not for the gleam in his eyes. "Go on," Tier murmured, "No one will hear your screams."

The words slid in just as deep as the blade had. Neither loud, nor cruel. Worse. Something in Zero snapped. He moved before his body could argue. Blood poured freely down his side, but rage outplaced pain. In the blink of an eye, his hand shot out, fingers locking around the other's throat with a force that made bone groan beneath skin. The world filtered. Tier's back slammed into the sparring post behind him, hard enough to rattle the wood.

The concubine didn't flinch. He just blinked slowly, as if surprised, and then smiled.

That fucking smile.

Zero's breath was ragged. His body screamed for him to let go, to collapse, to bleed out like a dog, but he didn't. He pressed in close, forehead nearly brushing Tier's, fury held together by sheer will and the taste of iron in his mouth. "You really think I scream?" he rasped, voice frayed and low. "You think that blade was enough?"

Tier didn't answer. His pulse fluttered against Zero's palm. His eyes were unreadable, even as the fingers around his throat dug in deeper. "If you're going to cut me," he snarled, "Cut deep enough that I stay down." He leaned in closer, breath ghosting over the other's cheek like a promise. "Because if I get back up - " a pause, " - I'll show you what screaming really looks like."

[zhaozi]

😎😎