Freddie sees more than most on the ice. He can see the whole rink; he knows who’s out of position and where the gaps are for opponents to dart through unscathed. Freddie hates being exposed so he’s not shy about yelling at his teammates to move, to put their bodies between the other guys and him. He likes his chances one-on-one, he wouldn’t be an NHL goaltender if he didn’t, but he appreciates teammates who put themselves on the line so that Freddie doesn’t have to.
Sometimes, though, Freddie’s the last one standing between them and his goal, and he never hesitates. Doesn’t even take a breath. Eyes sharp, body relaxed, and instinct takes over.
Sometimes, it happens off the ice too. Sometimes, Freddie sees things that no one else does. Sometimes, he can see who’s off-kilter. Out of sync. Sometimes, he puts himself on the line, one-on-one, to make sure his team is okay.
Sometimes, he puts a hand on Auston’s shoulder in the locker room. Puts enough weight into it that Auston physically deflates in front of him. Freddie knows the signs now. They’re not hard to figure out, but Auston has a habit of brushing everything off until he’s staggering under the weight of some unknown issue, when he gets a little too giddy at practice, when his chirps land a little meaner than they should be. There’s a million different signs and Freddie recognises enough of them now.
Sometimes, he puts his hand on Auston’s shoulder, waits for Auston to relax underneath him, and they share a look.
“Hey Marns,” Freddie calls over his shoulder. He keeps his gaze on Auston. Knows Auston needs it.
“Yeah Fred?” Mitch appears next to him, takes one look at Auston and sighs. “You’re taking him?”
“Yeah,” Freddie says. Sees the way Auston’s gaze flickers just a little before he focuses.
Mitch nods, ducks down to murmur something in Auston’s ear that Freddie doesn’t hear, isn’t meant to hear, and then the two of them are out of there, Freddie’s hand loosely holding Auston’s wrist. They always take Freddie’s car, since they’re going back to his place. Auston always spends half the journey flicking through stations but Freddie doesn’t mind.
Auston follows him into the house, drops his stuff by the door and heads for the kitchen. Freddie lets him pile food on two plates while he changes into non-Leafs clothes. He always does when they do this, like it’s something personal, not team-related. Which is kind of stupid, because they’re on the same team, and he does this to make sure Auston’s okay. To be the last person facing down Auston’s demons for him, to go one-on-one with the knowledge that he’s going to win every time.
But he changes clothes anyway.
They eat in front of Freddie’s big screen, just some highlights from the night before. Auston’s pretending to be relaxed next to him, his big body sprawled in the very definition of casual.
Freddie’s not fooled.
He takes their empty plates into the kitchen and dumps them in the sink for later. Auston appears behind him, fills a glass of water and turns to look at Freddie.
Auston always makes Freddie work for it, when he pushes Auston against the counter and kisses him. The first time, Freddie had backed off and Auston had pushed back at him, frustrated. Freddie hadn’t realised then what Auston needed.
Now, he pins Auston in place. Auston’s big but Freddie’s bigger. Auston’s hands are large but Freddie’s are larger. Auston’s got the strength to push. Freddie’s stronger.
Freddie kisses him; long, slick kisses until Auston finally let’s go and slumps against him. Freddie takes his weight, slides his hands around Auston’s waist and hauls him even closer. Kisses him until Auston squirms against him and Freddie lets go, watches with dark eyes as Auston sinks to his knees between Freddie’s spread legs.
Then it’s Freddie’s turn to let go, one hand twisting in Auston’s hair, pulling just hard enough to make Auston pant.
The first time they did this, Auston came in his pants, untouched. That’s when Freddie figured him out, had made Auston sit down and talk to him about what he wanted. What he needed.
Now, Freddie likes to take Auston into his bedroom and strip him down. Likes to make Auston tremble and beg, if Auston wants to. Sometimes he doesn’t.
Today, he begs.
Today, he lets Freddie curl up around him afterwards, lets Freddie stroke his hands up and down Auston’s body until he stops shaking.
Today, Freddie wonders if this is the day Auston asks for more. Whether he asks Freddie for something he wants to give Auston anyway. Sometimes Auston looks at him and Freddie thinks this could be it. Freddie’s not afraid of one-on-one. He relishes it. But he likes being on a team. He thinks he and Auston could be good as a team of two.
Auston doesn’t ask today. He lets Freddie hold his hand while they drift off, but he doesn’t ask.
Maybe tomorrow, Freddie thinks sleepily, his fingers tightening without conscious thought. Maybe tomorrow.
hello there! if you're still feeling up for it, my prompt is lilo + predicament. and i'll leave that as vague as possible for your interpretation :D
So this took months in the making, but it’s finally done and that’s what counts, right? *nervous smile*
3k of absolute Lilo fluff where nothing really happens. I don’t know. Address all complaints to my brain, I guess.
“What do you mean, you forgot the keys?”
Liam doesn’t reply, patting the pockets of his skin tight jeans as if hecould bring the keys into existence by sheer strength of will.
“Liam,” Louis says, sounding like he’s trying to keep his voice calm andfailing spectacularly; “We’re in the middle of nowhere in Surrey, it’s 2am, andit’s fucking raining!! Now tell me you haven’t really forgotten the housekeys!”
“I haven’t really forgotten the house keys,” Liam says, weakly, hishands finally falling back down at his sides.
The small house he’s rented for the long weekend has got a porch, sothey’re at least sheltered from the pouring rain, but the walk from Liam’s carto the house was enough to nearly soak them through and Louis’s hair isplastered to his forehead, rivulets going down his cheeks to his neck, waterpooling in the dip of his collarbones. Liam is trying his best not to stare,but it’s hard.
He always knew something would go wrong, really; getting Louis alone foran entire weekend was lucky to the point of being suspicious, and Liam hadknown, even as he’d started planning the trip, that he’d fuck it up somehow.
He just didn’t expect the fuck-up to happen so quickly.
Louis grunts and flops down on the wooden staircase, just three timewornsteps linking the porch to the grassy ground. His feet are in a puddle, but hedoesn’t seem to care. “How could you forget the bloody keys, Liam?”
“I don’t know,” Liam says, turning around aimlessly, as if a spare setof keys might be lying around. He’s got half a mind to start looking undergarden gnomes and welcome mats, just in case. “I made a list so I wouldn’tforget anything but… I kinda didn’t think it necessary to put the keys on thelist. What were the odds of me forgetting them?” he says with a weak laugh.
The death glare Louis sends his way makes him look down, chastised.
“Come sit,” Louis says, more gently than his glare would have led Liamto expect.
He doesn’t really want to get his shoes wet but he really wants to geton Louis’s good side again, so he sits on the step, watching mournfully as hisbrand new sneakers soak up the muddy water.
“At least we’ve got food, right?” Louis says, nudging Liam with hiselbow.
That was at the top of Liam’s list. Food to last them two days, beer tolast them a week, and binoculars to try and spot the wildlife in thesurrounding forest. If only he’d packed a tent like he’d wanted to, on the offchance the weather might get sunny enough for them to camp outside, they’d havehad shelter for the night.
“Why don’t you go get it? Don’t know for you but I’m starving.”
Liam’s shoes squelch horribly as he walks back to the car, letting therain drench the last of him. He grabs the icebox filled with food, retrievingtwo sweaters and a towel from his bag and leaving the rest - there’s no pointgetting all their spare clothes wet. He spots a familiar tartan blanket rolledup in a corner of the trunk and takes it as well, handing it to Louis once he’sback under the relative shelter of the porch. Louis shakes it open, wrinklinghis nose at the dust that flies up.
“Smells like dog.”
“Yeah, that used to be Loki’s, sorry.”
“It’s okay. Looks warm,” Louis says softly, eyeing Liam as if he’safraid Liam might break down.
Drying himself as best he can with the towel is a welcome distractionand a great way to avoid eye contact, so Liam does just that. So he didn’t takethe death of his dog well, who would? It’s been months now, he’s over it. He’snot a child.
He’s a little surprised when he feels the tears on his cheeks, andhastily wipes them with the back of his hand, clearing his throat in a manlyway. Louis has the decency to pretend like he hasn’t noticed, busying himselfrummaging through the icebox, taking two beers out and a packet of crisps. Liamwishes he’d taken some kind of camping stove with him, so they could have somethinghot.
He sits back down on the steps, accepting the beer Louis pushes in hishand, trapping the bag of crisps thrown his way between his thighs. Louisfusses around him, making short order of drying himself before wrapping theblanket around both their shoulders. It’s the middle of summer and despite therain the night is warm, but Liam is not one to ever refuse snuggling up.
They sit in silence, pressed side to side, Louis’s hand blindly comingdown on Liam’s lap regularly to grab some crisps. After a while the rainfinally lets up, and a sliver of moonlight breaks through the clouds, casting apale shine on Liam’s car. There’s no other house around for half a mile, nonoise but for the sounds of the fields around them and the soft pitter-patterof rain dripping from water-logged tree leaves. Liam wishes the sky wasn’t socloudy - the stars must be pretty phenomenal, miles away from any lightpollution.
He doesn’t notice the way Louis’s leaning into him straight away, onlyrealizing something’s off when Louis almost drops his half-empty bottle to theground, righting it back up just in time. He doesn’t resist when Liam takes itaway from him, turning to rest his head against Liam’s shoulder, breath warm onLiam’s neck. His right hand flops down on Liam’s thigh, the heat of it seepingthrough Liam’s wet jeans in what feels like no time at all, making his skintingle. Liam puts the two bottles and the packet of crisps to the side, lettingLouis snuggle up to him, trying to get his heartbeat under control in the offchance Louis can hear it or feel it, hammering in his chest.
“Too loud,” Louis grumbles, as if on cue, and Liam comes really close toshoving Louis off him in panic, stopping himself with his hand already onLouis’s shoulder. He turns his touch gentle, pushing Louis upwards so he’s freeof his movements. Louis sits in silence, hunched in on himself, while Liamrolls up the two sweaters into makeshift pillows and lays the blanket out onthe porch. It’s a crummy bed, but it’ll have to do, and Louis doesn’t protestas Liam nudges him, lying down on his side and snoring straight away.
Liam stares at him for a while in the soft moonlight, feeling like athief but drinking him in all the same. He doesn’t remember falling asleep.
He wakes up in the early morning and enjoys one or two blissful secondsof hazy happiness, the song of birds celebrating the rising sun filling the airand Louis wrapped around him like a sea star, his hair tousled and soft, beforehis entire body starts hurting. He can feel only pain, from his ankles to hisneck, every muscle cramped up and sore from sleeping on hard wood for hours. Heexperimentally stretches, as well he can with 150 pounds of Tomlinson plasteredto his side, and winces.
“Why does everything hurt?” Louis mumbles into his chest, his armtightening around Liam’s torso.
“I guess sleeping on the porch wasn’t such a good idea.”
“It was the only idea,” Louis says, gently kicking Liam in theleg, probably because kicking him harder would mean moving his limbs too much.
Liam considers dislodging Louis and sitting up, but his back twinges atthe mere thought of it. Instead he gazes up at the porch ceiling for a while,sunshine reflecting off the puddles still strewing the grass and creatingluminous patterns on the cracked white paint. He puts all his focus into thosedancing patches of light, trying to numb his brain to the pain, fruitlessly.
“I hate you,” Louis says after a while, still clinging to Liam. “And Iwant coffee.”
“We’ll have to get up to get some,” Liam points out, and Louis huffsinto his chest before letting go of him, resettling himself with many a gruntso he’s lying on his side, one arm curled under his makeshift pillow. Liam tipshis head to the side, and isn’t surprised to find Louis glaring at him.
“You’d better make it up to me,” Louis says, and Liam knows that hisanswering “Ask anything,” is the worst thing anyone can say to Louis, ever, buthe’s feeling guilty enough that he’s ready to take on whatever punitivechallenge Louis might throw at him. He’ll probably have to streak down the roadnaked; hopefully he won’t give a heart attack to any elderly people who mightbe driving by.
“I want a kiss.”
“What?” Liam says, dumbly, because it’s Louis, alright, theremust be some twist, some trick.
“I want a kiss. To make up for the trauma.”
Turning on his side is painful, but Liam manages, leaning forward topress a kiss to Louis’s cheek, torn between laughing and protecting any part ofhis anatomy Louis might attack while he’s otherwise occupied. Louis’s stubbleis prickly against his lips, but nothing else happens, and Liam leans back witha grin, relieved.
Louis, however, doesn’t look impressed. “You call that a kiss? After youhad me soaked with no chance of warming up?”
Liam rolls his eyes, refraining from pointing out that the night was sowarm they didn’t even need to sleep under the blanket, but at least thebaiting is familiar. He leans forward again, pressing a kiss to Louis’s othercheek, not missing the way Louis tilts his head to the side to make it easierfor him, or the way Louis’s cheek shifts under Liam’s lips as he grins.
When Liam leans back, Louis’s eyebrow is still judgmentally raised. “Wecame all the way here, and I didn’t even get a proper meal.”
This time Liam doesn’t even try not to make a joke of it, smacking a wetkiss to Louis’s forehead. He dimly registers Louis’s fingers curling around thefront of his t-shirt, but doesn’t have time to think much of it before Louis’stalking again.
“Well, now, I don’t know what to think, Liam. You could put your backinto it. After all, because of you my poor delicate body will probably bebroken forever. Here goes my dream of joining the Olympics figure skating team- yes, Liam, don’t look so amused, it’s always been my dream, you’d have knownit if you took any interest in me.”
Liam tries to look contrite as he presses a kiss to Louis’s chin,briefly snapping his teeth open to bite it and making Louis yelp in surprise.
“Oh so now you’re maiming me?! Cheers, lad, rea-”
Liam cuts him off with a kiss to the corner of his lips, not quiterealizing he’s doing it until he feels Louis’s mouth under his. It’s reckless,but he can’t help lingering, desperate to remember the softness of Louis’s lipswell enough to conjure it back up at a later time. When he leans back, Louisdoesn’t say anything. His eyes are a bright, piercing blue as he stares atLiam, lips slightly parted. Something has shifted in the air, or maybe it’s allin Liam’s head, born of so many months wishing for such a thing to happen, nomatter how many times he’s been burnt, “moments” dissolving into thin air asLouis turns away with his lips curled up in a smirk, or darts a hand out topinch Liam on any stretch of skin he can reach.
Liam waits for Louis to do exactly that, barely daring to breathe orblink; but Louis doesn’t pinch him, doesn’t smirk. Doesn’t do anything butstare at Liam, expression undecipherable, until the two words Liam has toldhimself over and over he’d never hear spill out of Louis’s lips, barely above awhisper: “Kiss me.”
Liam opens his mouth to ask “Sorry?”, but slams his lips shut just intime. He doesn’t even care if he’s misheard; Louis looks vulnerable, and Liamwould rather take a leap of faith and turn out to be wrong than put anyonethrough the uncertainty he himself has been a victim of for so many months.
He keeps his eyes open as he tips his head forward, watching Louis’s owneyelids fall shut when he presses his lips to Louis’s mouth, a fleeting touchbefore he does it again, lingering there until Louis’s lips move minutelyagainst his, returning the kiss.
In the time he’s had this massively inappropriate crush on his bestfriend, Liam has spun many a scenario in his head about how their firstkiss could go. The two of them half lying on Liam’s couch, both breathlessafter a tickle fight; Louis crowing and climbing in Liam’s lap after a majorFIFA win, his victorious smile turning tender; Louis drunk at the end of aFriday night, spilling his secrets into Liam’s ear and flicking his tongue outto lick at his neck; a lazy Sunday morning, both of them asleep in the samebed, as seems to happen more often than not when they’ve gone out the nightbefore, Louis pressing a tentative kiss to Liam’s lips in the pale morning light.
Somehow waking up under a porch in Surrey, still wet and aching, hasnever entered Liam’s mind, but it’s just as good as all the other scenes he’sthought of. Nah, it’s better, because this time Louis is solid and warmagainst him, his fingers letting go of Liam’s t-shirt to slowly make their wayup, fingertips brushing against the skin of Liam’s collarbone as they slipunder his collar. And Louis’s tongue is wet when Louis lets his mouth fallopen, inviting Liam in, not like the dry mouthful of pillow Liam sometimesended up with when his daydreams got the best of him.
It’s all a bit much to process, and soon enough Liam breaks the kiss,looking on as Louis’s eyelids flutter open, his eyes soft. Liam feels winded,breath stuttering as he tries not to make a fool of himself, until he realizesLouis is equally as breathless.
Louis’s the one to initiate the next kiss, dragging his lips againstLiam’s in what feels like a dare, the blue of his eyes turning sharp as heleans back, clearly waiting for Liam to follow. His surprised gasp as Liamlunges forward, pressing a hand to the back of Louis’s neck to keep him inplace as he presses a series of breathless kiss to Louis’s lips, is mostsatisfying, as is the way his hand slides up to Liam’s hair, fingers closingaround it as if holding on for dear life.
Liam has spent a long time second-guessing himself, keeping himself incheck, trying to monitor his own feelings and actions, but there’s nothing todoubt now, not when Louis is kissing him back with as much passion as Liamfeels, all nibbling teeth and soothing tongue, one leg slipping in betweenLiam’s, ankle hooking over Liam’s calf like Liam could ever want to get away.
It’s only when he tries to push Louis on his back and pain shoots downfrom his shoulders to the bottom of his spine like a red hot current that Liambreaks the kiss with a gasp, rolling on his back and shifting against thewooden floorboards to try and find a position that doesn’t make him want tocry.
He watches as Louis struggles into a sitting position, his lips andcheeks flushed from kissing but his eyebrows knotted together, hopefully justfrom the pain of moving. He’s looking at the road but his hand shoots down totweak Liam’s nipple, because for years now Louis seems to have had a homingdevice implanted into Liam’s chest so that his fingers can unerringly findtheir target no matter what happens. The pain of the tweak is almost nicecompared to the rest of it, and Liam doesn’t even slap Louis’s hand away.Breathing in deep, he finally sits up in his turn, stretching his arms abovehis head and groaning as his sore joints crack.
“You still have to make it up to me,” Louis says, resting his arms onhis bent knees, rubbing his eye with the ball of one hand.
“That wasn’t enough?” Liam asks, trying for teasing but suddenly lesssure of Louis’s enthusiasm, worried the kiss may not have been as good as hethought, or that maybe it’s all been a game he’s failed to see through.
But Louis’s smile is soft as he bumps his shoulder against Liam’s. “Itwas okay,” he says, his eyes crinkling with the force of his bullshit; “Butyou’d better keep those coming for the rest of the week-end.”
Relief washes over Liam like a warm wave and he only dimly registers theache as he leans forward to press his lips to Louis’s delighted grin, one handpressed to the back of Louis’s neck and the other gripping his upper arm,pulling until Louis shifts and straddles his lap, sucking on Liam’s tongue in away that sends tendrils of arousal into each of Liam’s veins, unfurling likewarm current, not the hot splash of arousal but something quieter, warm likethe morning sun slanting on the porch and heating their tired bones.
He moves his hands to Louis’s back without thinking, and swallows Louis’sheartfelt groan when he starts pressing his fingers against all the knotshiding under Louis’s skin, rubbing and pulling at his sore muscles until Louiscan’t even kiss him anymore, resting his forehead against Liam’s shoulder witha low moan, his entire body slumping against Liam’s chest.
“Oh, fuck, this is even better,” Louis gasps, fingers loosely hookedaround the folds of Liam’s t-shirt.
There’s no one to make fun of Liam so he doesn’t try to keep his proudgrin down, working on Louis’s back for long minutes until he doesn’t feel sotense, straightening back up to look into Liam’s eyes with a soft, farawaysmile.
“You’re dreaming if you think I’m gonna return the favour,” he says,because there isn’t a moment that Louis isn’t ready to ruin for a snidecomeback, but even as he says the words his hands creep up to Liam’s shoulders,fingertips pressing down against his shoulder blades.
Liam lets his eyes fall shut and his mouth fall open, sighing as Louiscounters the soothing pressure of his fingers with sharp nips at Liam’s lips,leaning back every time Liam darts his tongue out as if forbidding him to kissback. Liam eventually stops trying, surrendering himself to Louis’sministrations. He only opens his eyes when Louis pushes him backwards, wincingas his back makes contact with the hardwood floor again.
“Sorry,” Louis says, not sounding very sorry, “I’ve got no patience formassages. And also,” he adds, cutting himself off to press a firm kiss toLiam’s lips, his hands slipping from behind Liam’s shoulders to come play withthe collar of his t-shirt, “I still want coffee. And waffles.”
“There’s a little restaurant about a mile down the road,” Liam says,feeling his heart glow when Louis’s eyes crinkle with pleasure.
Louis kisses him again, tongue coming to tease at Liam’s lips, thenadds, quite nonsensically, “I guess Harry owes me ten quids.”
“I’m sorry?”
“Harry. He didn’t think you’d be bold enough.”
Liam raises himself on his bent elbows, thoroughly confused. “Boldenough to-”
“Niall agreed with me. Good lad, that one.”
“Louis, what are you talking about?!”
“I bet ten quid that you’d kiss me this weekend,” Louis says, as if itwere the most evident thing in the world.
“You… you bet on…”
“Not like that,” Louis cuts in, suddenly looking less sure of himself.“I just… I was hoping you’d do it? And Harry said you wouldn’t, so, well… Tenquid is ten quid, right?”
Liam just blinks at him, speechless. All these months he’s lived withhis shameful secret, his unrequited crush on his best friend, and it turns outthat his best friend not only knew all along, but all the others as well.
It also turns out that he may not have been the only one pining.
There are many questions he wants to ask, but Louis presses a soft kissto his lips, then another, a solid warm weight curled over Liam, and Liamdecides there’ll be time for questions later. “I’ll make a call to the agency,have someone bring us the keys,” he says when Louis lets go of his mouth tosprinkle kisses down his neck.
“You do that,” Louis says, slipping a hand under Liam’s t-shirt, fingerscircling his belly button. “A bed’s definitely more appropriate for all theweek-end activities I’ve got planned.”
They end upcompletely missing out on what the rental has to offer, from the advertisedpictural walks through the forest to admire the wildlife, to the quaint littlevillage shops a mere ten minutes away. They do see the stars though, sittingwrapped in blankets on the porch at night, still naked and sweaty from spendingtheir Saturday learning as many ways of making each other moan as they couldcome up with. Drinking from the same bottle of beer, they crane their necksback to look at the dazzling night sky, Liam arduously listing the handful ofconstellations he can remember, and Louis making up his own (most of them seemto be shaped like cocks. Mythology is all about who’s got the biggest dick,Louis says with authority when Liam points it out). It’s the best weekendLiam’s ever had, by far.
shinywhimsy replied to your post:shinywhimsy replied to your post “shinywhimsy...
THIS IS THE BEST THING TO WAKE UP TO :DDDDD bb, i am SO GLAD that you felt safe enough to come off anon to me all those months ago because you’re one of the loveliest people this fandom has brought to my life ��
Nooo stop it! You’re going to make me cry!! <333 I’m the trashiest trash baby, I promise! But I do like you quite a lot and I’m glad too that you’ve always made me feel so safe and happy! *smooches*
(The thing about friends in other time zones is that you wake up to the best messages, but they’re also so, so far away!! I wish I’d been made of money so I’d have you with me to flail over Liam in London!)
shinywhimsy replied to your post “shinywhimsy replied to your post “Something without sextoys, costumes,…”
ilu and you don’t deserve to be made to feel bad about your writing themes *cuddles* i’m really glad i have you in my niche kink corner too ;D and i’m even more glad that i count you as a friend ❤️
I’m so very happy in our corner, babe! And I’m not done writing every possible kink for Lilo I can think of, even if I right now am trying to get my Lirry fic done! Btw, you should always tell me about your fic wants, bb! They tend to inspire me into writing the most wonderfully fun things! ;-)
The awkward asks I sent you on anon about my first fics, more than a year ago, must have been one of the best things I’ve done in fandom. You’re an amazing friend! <333
shinywhimsy replied to your post “Something without sextoys, costumes, lingerie. Just pure raw teasing,…”
dear nonnie, stop trying to police other people’s writing plzkthx. no author owes you anything so kindly stop trying to make them feel bad for writing what they like. i’m sure you can find something to your taste without shaming others. love, me.
I’d like to add a little something to this;
I’m always happy to talk about fic ideas and what you want to see next, but telling me what you don’t like, that won’t make me write what you want. It will either make me sad, and then I don’t write anything at all or I’ll be a little bit pissed, and then I end up writing the thing you asked me not to, cause that’s just the way I work.
I just want to play and have a nice time in my tiny little niche kink corner of fandom, that means I write a lot of stuff that many aren’t into at all. I’m fine with that, I know it even, but I prefer not being told about it. That being said, it’s not the only thing I enjoy writing. It’s really not!
This time, the ask came because of a writing meme and I’m sure it wasn’t meant to hurt me in any way. It would have been enough to tell me the part, about “something with raw teasing”, though.
Just remember to be nice to the writers and artists in fandom!
