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maldivianresortblogger · 11 months

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Vilamendhoo Island Resort and Spa, Suppression.

In the realm of human dynamics, we encounter a peculiar figure—a general manager of a resort. This individual, who holds a position of authority, paradoxically harbors contempt for those beneath him. In his interactions with the resort's employees, he exudes a sense of superiority, looking down upon them as if they were mere cogs in a machine, unworthy of true recognition or happiness.

This contemptuous disposition arises from the manager's profound inability to accept the concept of genuine human happiness. Perhaps rooted in his own inner turmoil, he resents the idea that others could find fulfillment and joy in their work or in their lives more broadly. This inability to comprehend and appreciate happiness stems from a deep-seated sense of inadequacy within himself—an unfulfilled longing that fuels his envy of the skills possessed by those around him.

The manager's envy manifests as a toxic presence, permeating the work environment and tainting the relationships he has with his employees. Their palpable awareness of his resentment creates a pervasive atmosphere of tension and mistrust. Instead of nurturing a culture of collaboration and growth, the manager's actions breed resentment, stifling the talents and potential of those who work under his purview.

Furthermore, the manager's germophobia adds another layer to his psychological makeup. This fear of germs and obsession with cleanliness reflects an underlying need for control—a desperate attempt to ward off perceived threats to his well-being. In his mind, the employees are potential carriers of contamination, viewed with suspicion and kept at a distance, both physically and emotionally. This compulsion for cleanliness becomes a metaphor for his deep-seated desire to rid himself of the perceived impurities of his own inadequacies.

Regrettably, the consequences of the manager's psychological makeup manifest in the mistreatment of his employees. The recurring theft of their hard-earned wages serves as a stark reflection of his disregard for their basic human needs and dignity. By withholding their rightful compensation, he further reinforces their subjugation, keeping them at their knees and perpetuating a cycle of dependence and oppression.

Tragically, the employees, devoid of exposure to better circumstances, resign themselves to this bleak reality. Their acceptance of the manager's abusive behavior illustrates the insidious power of normalized oppression, where individuals become conditioned to believe that such mistreatment is the norm. This perpetuates a cycle of psychological manipulation, where the manager's authority is upheld through the suppression of hope and the deprivation of basic human rights.

In analyzing this information, it becomes apparent that the manager's psychological state is characterized by deep-seated insecurities, envy, and a need for control. His contempt for happiness stems from his own personal dissatisfaction, which manifests as mistreatment towards those under his authority. The germophobia serves as a symbol of his desire for purity and his fear of vulnerability. These psychological traits intertwine to create a toxic environment that perpetuates oppression and stifles the growth and well-being of those in his employ. It is a stark reminder of the profound impact that individual psychological dynamics can have on the collective human experience.

#Vilamendhoo #Vilamendhoo island resort and spa #Crown and Champa #Maldives resorts #Humanrightsviolation #Extremist culture in resorts #maldives #maldiven #luxuryresorts

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thewasteland2 · 1 year

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Siniscola (Sardinia). Saint Lucia. Spanish Tower (1605). It is currently the most important center of the Baronies, north of Nùoro. In the sixteenth century it was sacked by the Moors, only then did the Spanish crown run for cover by building some coastal towers, including that of Santa Lucia and proceeding with the fortification of the city. Santa Lucia, which arose as a fishermen from Ponza village, is now a renowned seaside resort. Its calling card is the anti-pirate tower on the coast. Images: the tower of Santa Lucia visited with Selene. #images #coast #seaside #resort #village #pirate #selene #center #siniscola #sardinia #baronia #saintlucia #spanish #tower #currently #important #crown #coastal #travel #traveling #visiting #instatravel #travelling #tourism #instatraveling #travelgram #travelingram #massimopistis #sovVERSIvi #estremisti @monumentiaperti @gruppointerventogiuridico @sarduspater Information for the purchase of my new book "Estremisti!": The book at a cost of 12.00 euros (120 pages), can be ordered in the bookstore (ISBN 978-88-591-5719-9 - Editore Aletti) or requested to the e-mail [email protected] with additional postage (currently 1.28 euros - fold of books). https://www.instagram.com/p/Cp-1TfkttVP/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

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ghouljams · 4 months

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King!König who's never been told no, who's always gotten what he wants, and who's resorted to force to make sure his desires are fulfilled. He's already killed his father for the crown, the whispers say, why wouldn't he do the same thing to get you? Kill your fiance and whisk you away to be his queen. Never mind that you don't know him, never mind that he hasn't asked you your thoughts, he saw you, he wanted you, you're his.

You should be flattered. You are flattered. He's a little pushy, is all. Terribly charming, a wonderful dancer, and the way he looks at you... God the way he looks at you. Like you've hung the stars in the sky, like he'd do anything just to brush his fingers against yours, like he's already imagined every way he'd take you, and he has favorites. How are you supposed to deal with that sort of attention from a man like König? Your fiance has never paid you this sort of attention. It's overwhelming, it's intoxicating, it's more than you can handle and yet he keeps giving it to you.

And how could you say no to a king when he tips your head back and tells you(never asks, why should he ask when you're his) he's going to kiss you? You couldn't, you wouldn't, you don't.

#cod x reader #x reader #könig fanfiction #könig mw2 #konig mw2 #könig cod #könig x reader #könig call of duty #konig x reader #regency au #king!König

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mimblizzy · 10 months

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DP x DC story idea y'all:

So the JL has some big ass problem, like really big, like dimension-destroying-big.

And as a last resort they want to find some entity powerful enough to save them and strike a deal (John Constantine-idea tm)

But where do they find something like that?

The infinite realms. John regrets his idea already. That is a fucking suicide mission. But what other option is there?

The whole JLD works really hard to find a way to the infinite realms and after searching every and all books about death magic they manage to find a portal.

It is decided that the Trinity plus Constantine should go in, try to find a powerful being and strike a deal at any costs.

So they go in. And land somewhere in the middle of nowhere, floating in the Ghost Zone.

They meet a random ghost and ask if they know of a being powerful enough to save a whole ass dimension from destruction. The ghost says the most powerful being is the ghost king who reigns over everything dead, then gestures vaguely in some direction and leaves.

So the the group moves in that direction and on the way encounter all kinds of bizarre beings (demons, ghosts, jinns, alpe and the like) getting in all sorts of trouble (walker's prison, some demon with shares of John's soul etc) and only escaping by a hair's width every time, getting new directions and very concerning and sometimes contradicting information on the ghost king from more amicable beings in between (not every ghost knows of the new king yet). The whole journey to the king's castle is very the wizard of oz like.

And then finally. The castle comes into view. All the heroes (and Constantine) are exhausted and desperate. As they come near the tension is rising. Hopefully the king is merciful like that one ghost said and not a ruthless tyrant like the other said. They've almost reached the castle when -are those disco lights coming from the windows?!?! And can anyone else hear Caramelldansen??

There's a big ass houseparty at the ghost king's fortress.

They can just walk into the courtyard unbothered. There's also a ton of beings partying hard and almost nobody even spares the JL ensemble a glance.

They, once again, ask some random drunk? beings for the Ghost king and, once again, get directed on a wild goose chase across the courtyard several times, to no avail. Finally, they find someone who at least looks human and alive.

It's Jazz. She's just finished with her mid-terms and for once not being the responsible one. She earned this. But now there's a group of weirdly dressed humans? asking for her brother. Yeah, she hasn't seen him in a while, she'll go looking with them. Last she's seen him he was near one of the snack bars.

Together they make their way over. But he isn't there. The Leaugers could fucking scream! They went through hell just for the tiny chance to save their world and now they can't even find the Ghost king!

But then the young red haired woman with them looks around. narrows her eyes. pulls up the table cloth.

And finally there he is! The ghost king! In full regalia! With a flaming crown hovering over his head, a mantle made out of galaxies draped over his shoulders and the ring of rage on his left hand ... and it's a teenager. Passed out drunk.

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Idk i just thought: what would a normal teenager do if they had a gigantic castle in another dimension and no parents to reign them in? Houseparty.

"I mean what's the worst that could happen? Death of alcohol poisoning? Not fucking likely" -Danny

#danny phantom #DC #justice league #batman #wonder woman #superman #john constantine #dc x dp #dp crossover #dp x dc prompt #dps headcanons #jazz fenton #ghost king danny

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gallifreyix-centuries · 3 months

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Yandere! Lucifer x Female Reader Headcanons:

*Lucifer fell for you the moment he saw you. After so many years of Lilith being gone he instantly knew that he had to have you for himself.

*You were a guest at Charlie’s hotel where he first met you. Charlie introduced you to her father and he fell in love with your sweet and motherly attitude towards Charlie.

*He wouldn’t resort to kidnapping you on the spot. So he spends his time visiting you at the hotel and getting to know you better.

*Once he kidnaps you and takes you back to the palace it’ll become impossible to ever escape him. He instantly makes you his new queen.

*He’d be clingy and wouldn’t let you out of his sight. “Darling you can’t leave me, I wouldn’t want my new wife to die by an Exorcist’s spear.”

*He loves to have you sit on his lap while he’s on his throne. He definitely plays with your hair too.

*Lucifer doesn’t let you leave the palace ever. Why would you even leave when he gives you everything you’d ever want and need.

*He calls you Little Apple, Darling, Queen, and Love.

*Lucifer hardly ever feels the need to punish you. Why would he hurt his precious wife?

*If you ever misbehaved Lucifer would simply chain you up in his workshop so you wouldn’t be out of his sight. “My darling I do hate punishing you but this is for your own good.”

*He definitely makes you play rubber ducks with him, you have no say in the matter.

*He’s a very clingy Yandere. He doesn’t want to lose you like he lost Lilith.

*He cuddles you close in an iron grip, he doesn’t want to let go of you.

*Keeps a tight grip on you when you’re in bed with him. He’ll stroke your hair and whisper, “Sweet dreams my little Apple.” Into your ear.

*He’d definitely make you wear the crown he’s been making for you as his new wife and queen.

*He has security all around the palace to make sure you don’t ever leave him.

*If you ever beg to be let go he simply brushes it aside and holds you close to him. “My love you’re never leaving.”

*Luci definitely makes you dance with him in his workshop as a slow romantic melody plays from a music box.

*If you ever cry he’ll cradle you in his arms as he sings a lullaby to you.

#lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer magne #lucifer x reader #yandere #hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #viviziepop

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sylasthegrim · 12 days

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Atone From a Lone Prayer

Pairing • Aemond Targaryen x wife!reader

Tags • toxic relationship, slapping, name calling, choking, rough sex, consensual sex

Wordcount • 2,765 words

This work contains domestic abuse. Both Aemond and his wife are abusive toward one another, they are physically violent and verbally abusive toward each other.

This lust is a burden that we both share; two sinners can't atone from a lone prayer. Souls tied, intertwined by our pride and guilt.

—David Kushner, Daylight

On that night a storm was wracking the great, crimson frame of the Red Keep. An air of sickness and decay had polluted the hallways and corrupted the minds of many—King Aegon was dying from his wounds, a slow death that kept everyone suspended to his every breath, starting with your husband Aemond.

For months now the whole court hung to the King’s every gasps and heaves, hoping for a sane word, for a sign that his health was improving.

But as lost as he was to the milk of the poppy the Maester supplied him lest he wailed in agony, his thoughts didn’t seem to stay on the right path and wandered to unstable lands. Aegon was utterly lost, and would never be able to rule again.

Instead the crown had passed to his younger brother Aemond, and even if at first he took on the burden with gratefulness and eagerness, he only grew weary as time went by.

You started to think that the Conqueror’s crown had some sort of dark magic associated with it, that it corrupted all it touched and leeched the spirits of the man who wore it.

You had convinced Aemond not to wear it for a fortnight, and for some foolish reason that had to do with his devotion to you, he had accepted. However it had borne no fruit, and Aemond still grew more sullen and quicker to anger.

You came to realize it wasn’t the crown, but the station—the realm was still at war, with no clear victor. The troops were exhausted as winter advanced, and some sort of stalemate had been reached when it came to political advantages and alliances.

Something had to give, somewhere, or they would remain stuck in this neverending conflict for years to come, and the weight of that responsibility fell on your husband’s shoulders.

As the storm was picking up speed and force outside, wreaking havoc on the dilapidated gardens, the windows of the small council room shook.

Late-night meetings were not a rare occurrence, but you hardly ever sat in them anymore. It was not that the subtleties of politics were lost on you, simply that you had grown weary of the men’s ease to resort to senseless violence, and the blindness it caused.

“We need to take Dragonstone if we are to succeed, your grace,” Lord Tyland offered, ever so certain of the validity of his own opinion. “If we cannot cut the monster’s head for now, we can at least crush its eggs.”

Aemond seemed to consider the proposal for a moment, and your stomach turned to stone. Feebly, you spoke up. “Surely you are not suggesting we assassinate Daemon and Rhaenyra’s young sons?”

“It might be our only way to gain advantage,” Aemond replied in a smooth, even tone. “No matter how distasteful it is.”

“Distasteful?” you gasped. “There is no strong enough word coming to my mind to describe the horror of what you are considering.”

“If you are not here to support his grace, perhaps you should retire to your chambers, my queen,” Tyland continued, and the insult felt like a slap to the face. You turned to Aemond, expecting him to come to your defense, but his next words crucified you to the spot instead.

“If those talks are too difficult for you, my wife, then it is best you retire,” Aemond said in what you could have considered tenderness once—now you only perceived it as a cold dismissal. “I will join you shortly.”

A heavy silence fell over the room as you swallowed your protest and your mounting tears, instead retreating with your head high. As you walked back to the chambers you shared with Aemond, which was uncommon for a royal husband and wife, hot tears stained your face and nausea curled your stomach.

You had only begun to settle your nerves again when the heavy doors to your chambers creaked loudly and Aemond entered, and the gentle slam of the door as it closed resonated in the silent rooms. Your back was to him but you refused to turn, frightened of what you would see on his noble features.

“Did you reach a conclusion?” you asked bitterly. “Did you order the murder of innocent children?”

“I did what I had to do,” Aemond replied placidly, and as you turned to look him in the eye, he witnessed the struggle of your heart. Time seemed to move differently across your face, as in a split second he saw your features contort into utter surprise, then confusion, only to settle on sorrow.

"Who are you," you whispered through your teeth as though you were seeing a ghost. "I don't recognize you anymore."

"Oh don't be ridiculous," he spat out in answer, his temper flaring quickly. He was exhausted and dreamed only of resting his weary head on your chest and finding comfort in your sweet embrace.

He hated how you had a flair for the dramatic, your emotions always spilling out—he had loved that quality about you in the first months of your marriage, as he had never seen anyone so joyful and passionate as you.

However war had tarnished you, as it had tarnished many other things he loved. Little by little your joy had faded into frustration rather than sorrow, and nothing he could do seemed to please you anymore.

"Oh but it is true," you thundered, your voice rising in the air as you clutched the sides of your dress, ready to pull your skirts up and flee his company. You could hardly seem to look at him these days, even less stand to breathe the same air as him. “I don’t recognize the man you’ve become.”

“Can we not leave the troubles of the realm outside, for once?” he asked, desperate for a moment of respite.

"How dare you. Night after night you come here, bearing nothing but your bitterness and I have to be silent and take it!" you shouted.

Aemond recoiled, a ragged breath leaving his mouth, strangely akin to a dragon's groan. When he had vowed to cherish and protect you before the Gods, you had in return vowed to love and obey him and never before had you put those vows into question. You had been the steel in his back all these months as he bore the heavy weight of the crown, and your resentment of him felt like the cruelest of betrayals.

"Well I have had enough of it!" you wailed as he failed to answer.

The sorrow of the last months escaped through a sob, but when the breath returned to your lungs there was nothing else to it but a pain that burned your stomach. Your insides twisted as it mounted in you and a strange sort of pleasure curled around your heart as you released your venom.

"You thought you could do it, couldn't you? And easily so," you sneered, a twisted smile tugging at your lips. "You thought that given the opportunity you could easily replace your brother on the throne but the truth is you are not cut out for it either!"

Aemond marched to you, determined to silence you and to have your submission but you were relentless. You rushed around the dinner table, still holding your skirts as though you could lift yourself up with them, floating above him as he was powerless to take the brunt of your anger.

"You were born a second son because you are not made to be the heir, to be the king!" you almost spat in his face as he rounded the table and came to tower over you.

"Enough of your insults!" he roared as you stepped back, your elbow colliding with the back of the chairs until you had circled the dining area completely and retreated into the reading nook of your chambers.

Aemond's handsome face was contorted in fury and you knew your words had cut him deeper than he would ever admit. You felt both sick to your stomach and utterly triumphant, a storm of contradicting emotions swaying you from left to right.

"Did you really think you could throw your insults and I would take them without answer? Did you really think you could anger the dragon and not get burned?" he thundered as you stumbled back, catching yourself on a nearby bookshelf. "Answer me, wife!"

Your answer came swiftly, but not in words—his cheek stung as you struck him across the face with the flat of your hand.

"You will pay for that," he growled, his sharp features twisting in utter fury.

You felt the scales tip and your advantage failed you. You knew Aemond's anger to be formidable, and you were distantly aware that his carefully composed demeanor hid a cruel sense of righteousness. What he deemed to be his he took mercilessly, and held a taste of revenge close to his heart.

In your sudden fear you raised your hand again, only crying out as he caught your wrist in his vice-like grip. "Release me at once!" you wailed.

"Not until you have paid for your offense," he declared.

"The only offense here is your weakness, your impotence," you taunted, but it was pure folly. “Your resort to senseless cruelty because it is the only weapon you possess!”

Your own trap had closed around you and you were now throwing yourself fully into it—you had fallen into the dragonpit, knowing full-well you could not climb out, and instead of curling into a corner you decided to face the dreaded fire.

Aemond fell for the bait as you knew he would, but instead of an answering slap to the face he pulled you by the wrists and spun you. Your breath was knocked out of your chest as your back collided with the writing desk, Aemond lifting you until you were lying flat atop it, your wrists pinned above your head.

“You have never witnessed senseless cruelty from me,” he rasped, his face coming closer to yours. In the dark of the stormy night his violet iris seemed pitch black. “But if that is all you think me capable of, then I shall not disappoint you.”

Before you could comprehend his words or reconstruct his line of thought, Aemond had grabbed a nearby letter opener and slid it under the laces at the front of your dress, effectively cutting through them and opening your corset. “Aemond, no!” you cried out, but even with only one hand he was strong enough to hold both your wrists.

He ignored you, the shadow of a grin pulling at his mouth as he threw the letter opener away and pushed one of your knees up, breathing through your attempted kicks like you were a mere feather struggling in his grip. You cried as he pushed your legs apart, and finding his way on your body with practiced ease, teased what he was about to do with a swipe of his thumb.

It had been weeks since he had shown any interest in touching you, and his gesture angered you rather than frightened you.

“Am I so cruel now,” his voice rumbled against your chest as he dipped his head, licking a trail across your exposed breast.

His hand retreated from your body and fiddled somewhere else between your splayed knees—you heard the sound of a belt coming undone, metal buckles clinking.

“Damn you! Damn you to the Seven Hells you pathetic—”

You cried out as he pushed into you in one, smooth thrust. He groaned aloud as he sheathed himself fully—you were tight, almost unbearably so, and he laughed as you struggled, bitter tears stinging the corner of your eyes.

"It hurts," you whined, and he pressed his victorious grin to your pleading mouth. "You are hurting me."

"No more than you hurt me," he hissed, his hand coming to grip your face viciously. He looked more gaunt in that moment than ever before; outside the storm was raging and as lightning struck, his sapphire seemed to glow for a split-second, startling you into submission.

Aemond pressed on the delicate column of your neck and you complied, parting your lips to catch some air. Instead his mouth descended on yours and you sighed as his cock dragged against the rough spot that made your core clench despite yourself, despite the burn of the sudden stretch. Burning pleasure swirled along with the stinging pain and you swallowed your moan, refusing it to him.

"Am I still so weak and impotent?" he asked as he thrusted into you relentlessly, making the desk rattle against the wall loudly.

"Yes," you replied through gritted teeth.

Finally, you freed your hands from his grip, suspecting he had let you go, curious of what you would do. To your own surprise you reached up and gripped his hair at the back of his head, forcing him to look at you—you knew how he hated to show his face when he was in the throes of pleasure, how conscious he was of the marks in his skin.

His protest came in the form of a rougher thrust that made you cry out in pain, and his grip tightened on your neck. You pulled his hair roughly and he snarled, his white teeth flashing as he choked the breath from your throat.

“You are weak and pathetic, and if you think I will take pleasure from your cruelty then you are wrong,” you sobbed with the last breath he allowed you before pressing forward again, making you heave.

“You love me,” he hissed. “You love me when I am tender, you love me when I am cruel.”

Tears stung your eyes once again and you tried to shake your head, to refuse him once again, but the heat of his embrace was the only comfort you had found in him in weeks, if not months. The familiar pull of his body was indeed a cruelty, as it was taunting you with your own ruin.

He stilled, buried in the cradle of your hips and buried in your soul, and you couldn’t find it in your heart to send him away. He breathed in rhythm with you, two mouths panting into the humid air of the evening, and you realized with startling clarity that he was waiting—for a refusal, for an insult, for proof that he was still the man you loved.

He trembled as you gasped, and his voice was as shattered crystal when he spoke again. “Would you truly refuse me now that you see me for what I am?”

His palm found the curve of your thigh and propped your leg up on his hip, his other hand letting go of your throat to seek more of your skin. His fingers trailed the curves and lines of your body, as though by mapping you he could find his way to himself again. War had bent him out of shape until he didn’t recognize himself, and he hoped an image still remained in your memory, in your heart—an image of the young man he’d been.

In that instant you were reminded of your vows, of your pledge to remain devoted to your husband through sickness, through trials and tragedies. In the way he was looking at you, fighting against your grip that pulled his face away from yours and back into your line of sight, you found an answer.

“Even in your greatest cruelty, you are still the man I married,” you murmured, and he swallowed your next words with greed and hunger. “I would rather love a monster than fear my own husband.”

Your fingers intertwined and you surrendered, dropping your head back onto the desk—as you looked up to the ceiling, a curtain of white fell around you as Aemond pressed himself up, crowding you. You wrapped your legs around his slim waist, your nails digging into this scalp, closing your eyes as you fell prey to the relentless rhythm of his passion.

“I shall love you, no matter how monstrous this war makes you,” you vowed, and your pledge was sealed as your back bowed and your neck extended, pleasure wracking you to the core.

In his cruelty hid his greatest tragedy—that of needing to find his purpose in fear, as love was harder to give and to keep, but fear came easily to the heart. He would never be a loved king, only ever a feared regent, but in this brief taste of power he would find his perdition, you knew, and you would fall along with him.

Dividers by @saradika

Thank you to my lovelies @thenameswinter99 and @whitedarkmoonflower for helping me with this fic. I appreciate you so very much ♥️

Taglist 1: @darkenchantress @bellameshipper @itscatlien-blog @yentroucnagol @castellomargot @cardi-bre91 @avengingangelfanfic @malfoytargaryen @mari0302 @iamfandomnerd @diosademuerte @hb8301 @serrhaewinn @mariannnavao @svtansdaddyx @its-sam-allgood @amarillys92 @namgification

#house of the dragon #hotd #hotd fanfiction #hotd fanfic #hotd smut #aemond targaryen #aemond #aemond one eye #hotd x reader #hotd x you #aemond x reader #aemond x you #aemond smut #aemond fic #aemond fanfiction #hotd x oc #aemond x oc #aemond targaryen x reader

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