iiinova — where your digital self keeps evolving

🦊LynnPeyo🐲 @lynnpeyo.bsky.social · 13/09/2026

It’s been a while. In many respects ✨ The day Venus ingressed into Scorpio, something shifted. The silence … ripped apart. #vss365 #esoteric #vssmagic #amwriting #fantasy

He’d been quiet, for a while. Too quiet, at first.
Eventually, she got used to the stillness. The peace. The undisturbed nights. The way her pulse had no reason to jump at shadows.
Three months.
Four.

Then suddenly, something shifted. It wasn’t obvious at first. It wasn’t like a presence suddenly making itself known.

She felt it on the inside.

Like a part of her was reaching out to something she didn’t know. Something esoteric and hidden. Something from a dark place. Something deep. Something that knew.

A day later she found herself laughing hysterically without logical reason. Something was pulling at her — her awareness, her mind, her soul. She could feel it inside out, until it pulled at her skin, brought tears to her eyes and made her cackle like a madwoman, gasping for air.

And then, she knew.
That’s when he came back.

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🦊LynnPeyo🐲 @lynnpeyo.bsky.social · 09/07/2026

Good evening. I am back from holidays in the south, defiant in the face of exhaustion from travelling 11hrs, bearing flash stories of #defiance and unexpected meetings with a magnificent beast of legend 🐉 #vss365 #amwriting #flashfiction #fantasy #vssfantasy

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🦊LynnPeyo🐲 @lynnpeyo.bsky.social · 19/06/2026

It’s Venus day and #flashfriday, if such a thing exists, I was listening to a podcast on Libra decans and chains, and suddenly I ended up with another little one for the Anthology 🌊 #vss365 #undo #amwriting #fiction

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🦊LynnPeyo🐲 @lynnpeyo.bsky.social · 17/06/2026

Not a #novel today but a most important day, say, when you’ve been waiting for not a metaphor but quite a literal and rather critical letter to dictate your fate and it comes late almost two years I’m most certainly in tears but I am also, as of today A citizen of Norway #vss365 🇳🇴

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🦊LynnPeyo🐲 @lynnpeyo.bsky.social · 16/06/2026

What’s a Mars day without a portion of inspired blasphemy? 🌊 #vss365 #fiend #poetry #amwriting

Pull the cross right off my neck
I shall worship you instead
Toss it in the garbage bin
a new religion’s done me in
they call you fiend and wicked
names dropped from lips of bigots
You’re the sickness that I caught
And the salvation that I sought
You’re the darkness to my light
The dreams in my fev’ry nights
You’re the only thing that pulls me in
when my world goes dark and spins
out of control, into your hands
without you there’ll be no amends
not the devil but you’ve seen
the hells people made for me
you pulled me out and tucked me in
so tear it off, I’m yours to sin

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🦊LynnPeyo🐲 @lynnpeyo.bsky.social · 15/06/2026

Tonight, a #distant thunder, and the discomfort of sharing such things. #vss365 #poetry #poetsofbluesky

there’s a distant echo in my bones
a soft murmur, muttering moans
a memory not from ancient tombs
but from deep within the womb
like a coming home by coming undone
like a merging of what cannot be one
something fragile, a fluttering sigh
turned into a thundering roar of night
let me go under, let me go down
let none of those lights reach where I drown
I want to be kept I want to be true
I want to be yours I only want you

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🦊LynnPeyo🐲 @lynnpeyo.bsky.social · 07/06/2026

#vss365 #cradle #microfictiom #amwriting #fiction At night, I will crawl out of my own skin and slip into yours.

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🦊LynnPeyo🐲 @lynnpeyo.bsky.social · 01/06/2026

It’s been that time of the month again! … no, the other. #SciFanSat released its latest issue “Rescue” 🍃 I’ve been so fortunate to have one of my pieces featured along with my bestie’s! Go check them out! ✨ Thank you team and special thanks to everyone who voted for my story in the last issues 🥹💜

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🦊LynnPeyo🐲 @lynnpeyo.bsky.social · 30/05/2026

A most #wondrous thing: the flowers of spring, resilient in northern gusts, stand, as if knowing how to trust even the harsher waters of Gemini seasons’ daughters. They don’t bow, they simply bend and with a silent vow our mortal woes they mend. #vss365 #poetry

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🦊LynnPeyo🐲 @lynnpeyo.bsky.social · 25/05/2026

#vss365 #crevasse #microfiction #amwriting #fiction Sometimes the most effective tools of destruction are aimed at doing exactly the opposite. Something is falling, this moon day 🌙

I was clutching at a resolve I thought would never crack. A conviction so firm, shaped by everyone who ever scaled my walls and ran, layered with the deaths of hopes and loves of decades— no sledge hammer could bring down this monument of fated iron.
I was cradling it like a mother swan does its cygnets, when, like a shadow cast by moonlight, you slipped around my hands. With a single glance of silver they opened, and unceremoniously, that resolve fell from my grip, fell a thousand miles down the cliff of your eyes, and crevassed faster than I could convince myself to run.
Now my armour lies stripped and shattered, my heart abandoned by its casket, pulsating a stream of vibrant blood through my veins each time your fingertips ghost over my skin and I cannot bring it to feel. I cannot bring my heart to feel anything but you.

Lynn Peyo

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🦊LynnPeyo🐲 @lynnpeyo.bsky.social · 13/05/2026

Some late night poetry written in broad daylight. Sometimes you carry the night wherever you go. #vss365 #poetry #evenfall #amwriting #poetsofbluesky #bravewrite

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🦊LynnPeyo🐲 @lynnpeyo.bsky.social · 11/05/2026

Do you ever dream of things frequently that you normally never dream of? Have no business dreaming of? She does. ✨ #vss365 #fleeting #amwriting #flashfiction #fiction

She was picking at a nick in the wooden table with fingernail, when she said: “I don’t dream of anyone as regularly as I do you.”
He looked up, his mind moving from considering concepts of the unknown to locking in entirely on her.
“Not gods,” she continued, “not totems or spirits. Not even fictional characters I obsess with. Not characters in shows I’m binging. Just family… friends…. coworkers… and you.”
His already straight shoulders straightened almost imperceptibly more. “Does it bother you?”
“No.” A hint of an inclination in her voice.
“Sure?”
“No…“
The corner of his mouth twitched into the beginning of a smile. “Which one.”
“I’m not bothered by that I dream of you.” She stopped picking at the wood, and looked him in the eyes.
“But?” He inclined his head. Straight up honestly like this would be rewarded by not getting immediately prodded at and picked apart.
“I’m bothered that I don’t understand why. I don’t understand the pattern behind it.”
Ah. Humans and patterns. “What patterns do you see?”
“My regular visitors are all real people that I spend or have spent a significant amount of my time with, at different stages of my life.” After a short pause in which she reordered her thoughts, she decided to add “And they’re all humans.”
He sat back a little, folding his hands. “What patterns do you seek?”
She blinked. A soft sound. “Significance? I don’t know.”
“Is everyone you dream of significant?”
“No. But I barely ever dream of big things.”

“Big things. You dream of a a lot of big things.” An unwelcome insinuation she was going to deflect. He was looking forward to it.
“Ugh, no.” She deflected, blushing. He enjoyed that. “Gods, I mean. Big… meaningful entities. I can count the times I’ve dreamt of gods in my lifetime, on one hand.” She pursed her lips, reconsidering. “One and a half hands. Very fleeting experiences.”
Her recalibration made him laugh. “Ah yes, gods. They tend to come once, or twice, when they have something significant to say that you just don’t want to hear.” He leaned forward. “Or if they really want to mess with you. Once tends to be enough for someone to learn a lesson.”
She grunted. A sound of agreement as well as frustration. She continued. “I don’t even dream of the people I make up. And I spend a lot of time thinking about them. Yet, I don’t dream of them.”
So honest today. Refreshing. “So?”
“So I only ever dream of real people frequently.”
“Right. So?”
Her eyes searched his. “But you’re not ‘real people’.”
“I’m not?”
“Come on. No. Clearly not.”
“What are dreams?” He changed angle slightly.
“Huh? Uh. Mirror of the subconscious? Prophecies, sometimes?”
“So?” He watched her piece things together. A pleasant sight.
“Sooo my subconscious recognises you as real people?”
“Ah.” He grinned.
“Or you’re just a really fucking bad omen.”
He laughed, warmly. “Ah yes, maybe I am that, too.”
She scowled. He winked. There would be doubts, and follow up questions. For now, she sipped her tea in silence. And he, he went back to contemplating chaos.
Lynn Peyo

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🦊LynnPeyo🐲 @lynnpeyo.bsky.social · 05/05/2026

Today, I am overworked and mentally overwhelmed. I found my couch first thing, almost passing out. Then a chain of thought triggered one thing, and the next, so I grappled my laptop, pulled it on my half passed out self, and started typing. #vss365 #dear #affection #amwriting #flashfiction

“But I just don’t understand why you would go out of your way…” she trailed off, exasperated as much as confused.
He shrugged gently. “You’re just dear to me,” he said matter of factly, as if that were to explain the situation. As if that were reason enough to make the impossible possible, to pull the insurmountable down onto eye-level.
She stared at him. ‘Annoying’ she understood. ‘Frustrating’ she got. This, however, was a new term for him to use on her, and it just did not compute.
“Dear…,” she repeated, feeling a rather uncomfortable warmth spread under her skin. Inconceivable. She felt a need to save herself from what it was he had actually expressed, by following a chain of thoughts. Just like chasing butterflies. “Wasn’t ‘dear’ originally just opposite of cheap? Like something is either dear, or it is cheap. Expensive, dear, like ‘oh golly this necklace is rather dear!’ kind of dear—”
“Mmhm. Valuable.” He knew she was only distracting herself from an inner landscape that would come crashing down later, when she was alone, and had little to distract herself with. He also knew to not push her. She was already tumbling down that hill. She would get there at some point.
“—and then somehow it got into the vernacular as calling other people dear, not just objects,” she continued, almost as if in a fever. “I wonder— maybe we should get a new vernacular. Instead of saying something like dear or darling, maybe we should use something else. Expensive… valuable...” She was pacing up and down the room. “Expensive isn’t such a nice word though,” she mused. “Doesn’t roll off the tongue to be a pet name.”

“Valuable,” he said again.
“Hmm?”
“‘You’re valuable.’ You could base it off that. ‘You’re val to me’.”
“You’re val to me…,” she repeated, stopping in her tracks as if trying to taste it, feel it out. “Sounds nice, actually.”
He grinned. “It does. And, you are.”
She grimaced. “Okay whatever. Thanks.”
He kept grinning.
“Stop that.”
“Stop what?”
“Grinning like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you’ve won something.”
“Have I not?”
She rolled her eyes. “Oh my god. Like… what do you even think you’d have won this time?”
“Your attention,” he said flatly. It had snapped right back at him. “And your affection.”
She stared. “You’re unbelievable,” she growled, turning away to ineffectively hide her flushing face. She could still hear him chuckling from the other room, letting her know exactly how ineffective it had been.

Lynn Peyo

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🦊LynnPeyo🐲 @lynnpeyo.bsky.social · 05/05/2026

Thank you thank you thank youuu ✨🥰 That line was so ridiculous, it just flowed out but it’s the thing I will remember forever 😂 So pleased it’ll stick with you too *mwahaha* I might write one 😬 Anthologies are on their way for sure 💜

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🦊LynnPeyo🐲 @lynnpeyo.bsky.social · 25/04/2026

Thank you again so very much for featuring my work 🌊✨ This month, with a new poem, as well as a short story, in which our unfortunate heroes from the Entrance issue return to the darkness 🦇 Can’t wait to read the other stories! 💜

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🦊LynnPeyo🐲 @lynnpeyo.bsky.social · 19/04/2026

The oldest #trickery in the book. My little contribution to today’s #vss365 What have you been tricked with lately? #amwriting #fiction #flashfiction

“What— what is this?” Trembling, she stared at her dead body, laying twisted on the asphalt.
“Your body is done.”
Looking at the impossible angle of her neck and limbs, that was not the part that had her shaking. “I know that…,” she said. Her voice failed her for a few moments, before she looked up at the figure next to her, the familiar yet always strange stretch in the darkness, the humanoid shape where darkness was darker than black, and light failed to reach. “I know that,” she repeated, a little confused why she felt a stinging just behind the bridge of her nose, that tickle of an emotional outburst ready to flood her eyes. Confused she could feel anything at all. He inclined his head, waiting patiently for her question. She lifted her hand, the hand clearly belonging to her spiritual body. The hand that had started to slowly disintegrate into void. “What is this?”
“Ah,” he said simply. Ready to explain the same thing over again. “That is your soul, dissolving.”
“Dissolving? Why would it dissolve? Wasn’t there supposed to be some after, up, down, middle, rebirth, something, anything?” Her feet had started to disappear, yet she wriggled her legs, as if a small motion would stop the process. It did not.
He shrugged. “Yes technically. But,” and here he smiled, gesturing with a hand of shadows, “if you remember, you had promised your soul to me a long time ago.”
“I… what? No, this must me some trickery. What?” She stared at him in disbelief. “I was very clear I would fucking never sell you my soul!” she cried out.
“You didn’t.”
“What?” Panic was squeezing her voice, her legs and arms almost completely gone. “I don’t understand.”
He took a step forward. “You never had to sell it,” he smiled, laying his hand just under her chin, lifting her gaze to meet his. Gentle, yet firm. “You gave it willingly. You’re mine, remember?”
A searing fire shot through her heart.
So that’s what that had meant.
His eyes never left hers, until the moment she was completely, thoroughly go…

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🦊LynnPeyo🐲 @lynnpeyo.bsky.social · 16/04/2026

#vss365 #hammer Hammmmmmerrrrrr 🔨 of the gods Here’s my little flash ⚡️ When I sneak write at work I have no proper editing tools. Coming home I’m always like “fu** that dash” haha. Forgiveness shall be mine. #amwriting #fiction #flashfiction

"Hammer of the gods, will drive our ships to new lands—“
"What hammer are you talking about...?" he interrupted her half-mumble, half-humming.
"Huh, what?" She looked up from her stitch craft.
"The hammer you're singing about."
"Oh, oh that," she stammered, "uh I mean... I don't know but I guess they're referring to Thor's hammer? It being all about Iceland and vikings and...rawr" she made a little roaring noise, shaping her hands into claws for effect. It made him laugh.
"Vikings and 'rawr'? Really? Cute."
"Whatever," she waved him off, returning focus to her work."Probably that hammer."
"I found that once, stuck in a tree, you know."
All her focus was lost. "You did what?" Somebody else would probably be asking whether he was joking, but knowing him, he probably was not. Then something behind her eyes switched back on. "Wait a minute though... how can something as heavy and powerful as the Mjølnir be stuck in a tree? I mean... versus crashing through it and maybe getting stopped by a mountain?"
"Ah, you know, that..." he said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, as if his next words were likely to stir something.
She was leaning forward now, handiwork loose in her lap, waiting for a juicy bit.
There was a sound from him, almost like a sigh, releasing information that might be better kept locked up. "Well you know, there's always truth to myths, but there's also always a slight uh, exaggerated part."
"Yes?"
"Well in this case... it was a good hammer. Is," he added quickly when he saw her facial reaction, "it is a good hammer, but it's way less powerful than the myths will want to have you convinced. So yes, it got stuck in a tree. Big tree, powerful, sturdy, old, all that, but yeah it took a little bit of effort to pull it back out."
"Huh."
"I think they even got that wolf to help. I think it was him who got it free in the end."
"You don't say!"
He grinned uncomfortably. "He's also kinder than the myths say."
"Don't tell me you've met him or fetched ball or something ri…

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🦊LynnPeyo🐲 @lynnpeyo.bsky.social · 14/04/2026

#vss365 #loop #water #vssmagic #brand #codex #vssfantasy #glade #burrow Is it Friday yet? No? Ah. *dips a finger into the water* well the.

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🦊LynnPeyo🐲 @lynnpeyo.bsky.social · 12/04/2026

#vss365 #water two syllables flow from my mind to my mouth your name like water spilling into an ocean of an ever unseen love 🌊

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🦊LynnPeyo🐲 @lynnpeyo.bsky.social · 10/04/2026

Suddenly Friday comes around, #FlashFriday or not, work was unusually quiet and I snuck in a little short. Don’t tell anyone. They must remain blind to my shenanigans and deceptions. Speaking of which … This one is filled with cold deceit. #vss365 #blind #vssmagic #temperature

The temperature dropped when he entered the room. I could feel the cold wash over my back like a crashing wave from far out at sea, and I had to suppress my instincts to whirl around and press my back against the wall. Instead, I clenched my teeth and took a deep breath, trying to see him blind. As long as he was not walking my way, I had no reason to show him my face, signal that I was here.
"Are you okay?" my friend asked.
"I'm fine," I pressed out between tense lips. Her disbelief was written all across her face, but convincing her was low on my list of priorities.
"You look a little pale," she said, then her eyes flicked to above my head. "Oh. Hi, Eric."
My stomach turned.
"I... I'll leave you two alone," she said and got up, mingling with other guests before I could call out to her for help. But I was drowning, the water gushing into my throat, suffocating my voice. All I could do was try and reach for her back... but she never saw me.
He slid into her seat in front of me, smiling pleasantly.
"You didn't think you could just run away, did you?"
I did not know what to reply. In fact I was quite convinced that I was unable to. My throat muscles had constricted so tightly around my larynx, I was sure all I could produce were wheezing sounds.
"Now," he continued, hands folded on the table, leaning forward. "let's be civilised. After all, it would reflect badly on you if you made a scene here. Too many people here you need to keep up appearances with," he grinned. He was right. I was expected to be one thing. One very orderly, polite and pleasant thing. Somebody calm, and strong. Anything else might have consequences.
I have never hated public affairs as much as I did then.
I took a deep breath, trying to command the hair in my neck to flatten the fuck down. They did not.
"Good. That's a start." He brushed the table with a flat palm. I watched the movement, then remembered it was not his hands that were the most dangerous about him. It was not them I needed to wat…

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🦊LynnPeyo🐲 @lynnpeyo.bsky.social · 03/04/2026

#sensewrds prompt 205 Forlorn Conversations Mingling

I can hear you laugh
just out of earshot
with guests
with strangers
in a room just above
where I used to lay
close and familiar
with you
breath frail
I shut the door and
turn the key
a finite move
against infinity
I sink against the wood
holding back cold tears
lost in the sounds
of what could
and would not be.

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🦊LynnPeyo🐲 @lynnpeyo.bsky.social · 28/03/2026

Love Saturday surprises such as these haha! So very humbling and rather wonderful. Thank you everybody! 💜🙏🏼 Better get back to it, the stories call🪶 🌊 #writersofbluesky #amwriting #fiction

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🦊LynnPeyo🐲 @lynnpeyo.bsky.social · 28/03/2026

Ready to spiral? I did not submit this round but something’s cooking for the next 🫢 Let’s spiral for now 💜 I also just got notified that The Thrum from the previous issue got nominated by my peers and I’ve been screeching like a pterodactyl and don’t know whom to thank🥲🤣🙏🏼my gosh #amwriting #fiction

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🦊LynnPeyo🐲 @lynnpeyo.bsky.social · 25/03/2026

Storms keep raging In their rage, stillness is found. #tempest #vss365 #extremeshorts 🌊 💨

There’s a silence in your storm, heavy with a sensation of oncoming rain. Like the brittle skeleton of an autumn leaf I am tossed, shattered mid-air by your breath. Every night, you rise, every night, I fall. And yet, with fingers precise as bird song and a will like ocean fire, you catch the dust that was my heart. Wave after crushing wave, I am assembled under your gaze, my limbs trembling, my mind burning, my lips aching, as you lay me to rest within the tides of your tempest. My skin falls into vortexes, pulled under by a gale of you, and I dissolve, with only my soul remaining, unfolding in your palm like an ashen promise kept forever.

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🦊LynnPeyo🐲 @lynnpeyo.bsky.social · 25/03/2026

In your tempest I am whole Ocean depths unfurl my soul Beneath the billows where I’m found Engulfed in silence here, I’m sound #vss365 #tempest #amwriting #poetry #poetsofbluesky 🌊

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🦊LynnPeyo🐲 @lynnpeyo.bsky.social · 22/03/2026

I need another weekend, just a single social exchange reduces my introvert quality of weekend life 🌑 #vss365 #waver Turning back to the ocean and a quiet exchange. 🌊 🩸

Fingers trace the sharp surface of small rocks nestling against skin like the first hatchling in an abandoned nest, shivering between hard eggshells and the cloak of night. Her naked feet dangle over the edge, just where the cliff leans toward the sea with a silent longing. The wind is cool, pleasant, the ocean quiet, waiting. With a shift in pressure, her skin tears. There is curiosity with her pain, as if she had not expected the cut to be so immediate, nor the ache so acute. Lifting her finger to her face, she watches dark blood begin to pool, holding on to the wound like a precious lover. She sighs, gaze shifting to the black waters beneath her. What would she give, for one last embrace? Unwavering, she flicks the first drop into the darkness, imagining the ocean open up, teethed and hungry, wrapping around her sacrifice with a surging desire for more. An eagerness mirrored in her own body, with a rush of heat rolling over her lungs and through her womb. She shudders, and, keeping her hand outstretched, she watches, as the drops let go of their hold, and fall into the depths. She knows he is watching, from below. Her chest constricts with a pang of jealousy and yearning, followed by a thrumming sorrow. They fall so easily, merge so painlessly. She scoots a little closer to the edge, held back only by wind, not will. The gust picking up, as if it were trying to keep her from falling. She laughs, softly, and her finger meets her lips, painting them bright red. “Even if you don’t want me to, I still ache to drown in you,” she whispers, tasting iron.
In the darkness, the waves reply with a resounding crash, foaming below her with a silencing warning. She knows. She knows, and she hates it.
“You won’t keep me from it forever,” her voice braids into the wind like a promise into thread, as she stands, a statue of defiance before the gods. “Not forever,” she whispers, wiping her eyes as she turns to leave, shaking the last drop of blood mixed with fresh salt from her ey…

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🦊LynnPeyo🐲 @lynnpeyo.bsky.social · 20/03/2026

It’s #flashfriday already 🥳 At least to me, it is. So I went out on a limb or two, and ended up with a short, oh my. Men who remind women of their fathers… fathers they don’t even know … because somebody just did do that 🫢 #vss365 #overcast #flashfiction #shortfiction

"I think you look like my father," she burst out suddenly. "Isn't that weird?"
"You think?" He raised an eyebrow, tapping his glass with a fingernail.
"Yeah, I mean...," she leaned back in her chair. "I didn't really know him. I've just seen pictures from back when my mom and him were together, when he was young. That's all I have."
"Right."
She eyed him from under her long side fringe. "You don't think it's weird?"
He made a small huffing sound, regarding her facial expression. "I don't know. Not really," he said, shrugging. "Maybe. People remind each other of other people all the time."
"I guess," she said a little hesitantly. "But I mean, this 'you remind me of my father or mother' thing can come off a bit weird. If you told me I reminded me of your mother—“
He laughed. "You really don't."
“—that might raise at least an orange flag. But also, you saying I don't at all makes me wonder what kind of relationship you've had with your mother. Men apparently look for traces of character their mother used to have."
"I've heard about that."
"You don't think so?"
"Doesn't it go the same way? For women, I mean. You look for your fathers, we look for our mothers. Or whatever we think the idealised version of the opposite sex that we imprinted on, is."
"Mmh, right."
He leaned forward. "So if you're saying you don't even know your father, this doesn't really apply here, right?"
"I guess not."
"And technically, if this is, psychologically, correct, then it would be weirder if we thought it weird that a partner is looking for their dad or mom in us, no?"
"I guess..."
"I think maybe the question is more... Is it weird to you?"
She moved a little in her seat. "That you remind me of a father I never knew?"

"Yes." His eyes pierced hers, not hard, but relentless nonetheless.
She felt caught, like she had stepped into a trap she herself had laid out for someone else. Heat flared up in her cheeks. "Uh... I mean, I don't want to date my father."
He grinned. "Although we just said that literally, every woman might want exactly that."
She shuddered softly. "Subconsciously!"
He chuckled. "Some rather consciously."
"Oh, god," she groaned. "Stop."
"Sorry," he said, giggling.
"You're enjoying this way too much," she said pouting, trying to look sour, but his laugh sounded so bright and honest, it was hard not to be swept away. It was like the sun breaking through an overcast sky. Chuckling, she covered her lips with her hand and coughed.
"I do enjoy it. I enjoy you."
Her laughter froze in her throat. Embarrassed for how much this made her blush, she took a big gulp of her drink and told herself to calm down. After a few moments of him silently watching her struggling to regain her countenance, she said quietly: "See. I wouldn't want my father to tell me that."
"Well, good thing I'm not him. Because I'd rather keep telling you how and just how much I enjoy you."
"Oh dear god," she laughed, "okay. And tell me how proud you are of me?" She thought she was joking, but the reaction running across his face told her that what she said had hit some nerves.
His eyebrows went up, both of them, sharp and immediate. "Aha. If that's what you want." His grin had turned rather wicked. "And only if you behave."
She clenched her jaw, then cleared her throat. Keep it together. “See! It would be fucking weird if I were to call you daddy or some shit. How did we even get to this?"
He laughed. "Please, don't call me daddy. My name is good enough for me. In all circumstances." He winked, which got him just the reaction he wanted to see. "And it seems like talking about your mysterious father did."

She crossed her arms loosely, playing with a napkin. "Damn. I feel like I unlocked something forbidden."
"Like Bluebeard's door?"
She shuddered. "Is it that bad?"
He laughed. "No, not at all." She seemed a little unsure, so he added, "I really don't think so. I have no murdered wives in my basement at least. Just a hobby room. And wine. And old boxes that probably need some sorting out."
She relaxed a little. "No dead wives."
"Nope. Just a divorced one."
It was her turn to raise her eyebrows.
“Not in my basement!” he laughed. “She lives happily, or so I hope, very far away from me." He took a sip of wine, then added, "or so I hope."
She laughed. "Happy, but very far away, that's where you want her?"
"Ideally."
"I see. Makes sense."
He leaned in suddenly, chasing a shadow across the table, placing his hand right next to hers. Surprised, her eyes fixated on his fingers gently tapping the table. So close, she thought she could feel the air move against hers.
"Let's not talk about wives and fathers, mothers and family constellations anymore. I want to know more about you," his voice lowered, gaze on her hand, as his finger raised almost casually, brushing her knuckle. A sharp flash ran through her limbs - a stronger reaction than she had anticipated. It made her breath hitch. He raised his eyes slowly, searching her face for the reaction he just felt under his touch, and he found it, badly hidden behind a twitching jaw, and the way her whole body seemed tense. It made him smile. Her trying to sound casual made him smile deeper.
"What...," she cleared her throat, "what about me?" Part of her wanted to pull her hand away, but only the part that was embarrassed by having been blindsided. The rest of her wanted to lean in. Wanted him to touch more than just a single finger.

He hummed, running his fingers across her knuckles, circling around them with a feather touch that felt much heavier than it should. He leaned closer, voice barely more than a whisper. "Who are you, right now?"
Confused, her brows knitted. She sat up straighter, intending to push her hand closer, into him, but noticing how she had started to sweat, the motion was not as smooth as expected.
"Right now?" she repeated. "Who I am?"
"Yes." He gathered the tips of his fingers on the back of her hand, then spread them out slowly."
She found herself to be a woman who had increasing trouble thinking clearly.
"Right. Now." He repeated.
She cussed softly. "Right now? I think I'm a little..." she trailed off.
His hand covered hers. "Distracted?"
"Yes."
"Feeling warm?"
Goddammit. "Yes..."
"Good," he said. "You know... whatever your conclusion was, but this better not be fucking weird to you, because it isn't to me, and I want you to get over this quickly, because I want to touch more than just your hand tonight."
God fucking dammit. "Fuck," she said, "okay.”
"Okay?”
"Okay. Yes. No. Please do."
"Do what?"
She had to say it?
"Touch more of me than just my hand tonight."
His hand retracted from hers, leaving it colder than it should be. Her eyes flicked up at him.
"Excellent," he said. "Let's get out of here."
Lynn Peyo

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🦊LynnPeyo🐲 @lynnpeyo.bsky.social · 15/03/2026

Silent footsteps in the moor #assure me that at core there’s more to silence than the quiet violence after the wreckage of a storm more to the nothingness of form torn into the fabric of space and I follow the wet traces into the hollow and in the dark I find the sound of my heart #vss365 #poetry

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Reposted by 🦊LynnPeyo🐲

Mo Hayes 📚📖👩🏼‍💻 @mohayeswriter.bsky.social · 12/03/2026

‘Well, hello #precious. You’re a handsome young man. What’s your name?’ ‘Lance.’ ‘I haven’t met many men with that name. You mean, like the sword?’ ‘Yeah. There’s not a lot of people with this name these days, but in Medieval times, men were called Lance a lot.’ #vss365

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🦊LynnPeyo🐲 @lynnpeyo.bsky.social · 12/03/2026

Are things #precious to us because they are fleeting? Or inspite of it? Or are things that do not crumble right away more so, than those that do? These two again, and a small, precious moment. #vss365 #amwriting #flashfiction #fiction

“I want to tell people, you know. People close to me,” chin in her palm, she watched a few leaves tumbling about in the breeze. They crashed against a tree trunk, where the wind abandoned them. She leaned back, sighing. “It’s like when you’re in love, and you want to tell absolutely everybody. Not the fact that you’re in love, just … that you’re happy. That living feels precious to you. And you wanting to share the good news.”
“Are you in love?”
She pierced him with a hard look as if undecided whether to argue, reprimand or simply stab him with something sharp and serrated. That’s what he decided to pick up?
He chuckled, and shrugged, letting her off. “Good news,” he repeated thoughtfully, getting them back on track. “Except that most would not think this to be good news, exactly.”
She huffed. “Yeah, no.”
“So even if you were to tell people close to you, you’re much more likely to cause them to think you’re deep in trouble.” Thinking of her deep in trouble made him chuckle.
“Yeah, or crazy, deranged, insane, or dangerous.”
“Dangerous?” He raised an eyebrow, stirring the brew in front of him with a spoon. “For what you’re feeling?”
“Insanity is scary. I could be dangerous to myself, or others even. Imagine if I were to try and push my delusions onto other people.”
He laughed. “Hades forbid.”
That was his deity of choice today? She mirrored his laugh, albeit somewhat sheepish.
“How weak-minded your friends would have to be though, to have your delusions influence them to such a dangerous degree.” He raised the spoon out of the dark liquid, then flicked it across the table.
“No, I know.” She watched the silverware go. “You never know. I could cause mass hysteria.”
“Right.” He raised the cup to his lips and took a sip. “Wouldn’t be a first.”
“Huh?”
He put the cup down again, watching the surface swirl. “Might have triggered some of those, at some point in history.”
Her eyes went wide. “You?”
He fixated his gaze on her. “You find that hard to believe?”
“No, not at all, a…

She rolled her eyes. “Uh-huh, right.”
He smiled then, inclining his head. “Who is it you want to tell?”
She shook her head. And back to distracting her from interesting half-truths. “I don’t know. My family, I guess. Some of my friends. But I wouldn’t even know how to start.”
“Hmm. You don’t have to tell them who I am.”
“No, of course not. I just…,” she was not the least bit surprised he knew exactly what she had been talking about. Somehow he always knew. Especially if it was pertaining to himself. “I have this tendency to talk too much and too detailed when I get passionate about something.”
Oh, he knew about that. “Passionate about me, huh?” Not something she would normally freely admit.
She blushed. “I mean, excited.”
He grinned. “Excited about me, then.” He rolled the words around in his mouth as if tasting them.
She grabbed a piece of brown sugar from the little tray sitting between them and threw it at his face. She missed abysmally. “It’s what you said!” he laughed.
“I didn’t mean it like that!”
Still laughing, he brushed his shirt as if some debris had actually hit him, and leaned in. “What is it you meant, then?”
She pursed her lips, then looked back outside, avoiding eye contact. “You know what I meant. Just, you know. The connection. The fact you exist at all. It’s pretty fucking insane.”
“Mmhm?”
“And that makes it exciting, I suppose.”
“Aha?” He brought the spoon back into his hand with a flick of his gaze, placing it neatly next to his cup.
Her gaze followed the motion. “And yeah,” she added whispering, distracted by his little display. “It makes me happy.”
A gentle smile spread across his face. He took a deep breath, carefully, as though not to disturb her quiet moment of truth. A few leaves hit the window next to them. The wood of her chair creaked softly. Then, just as quietly, he said “Thank you,” leaned back, and joined her silent watch of the outside world, the rush of leaves, the tumbling, the rise, and fall.
Maybe someday, she could tell people…

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🦊LynnPeyo🐲 @lynnpeyo.bsky.social · 11/03/2026

#harmony #vss365 #poetry Out on a ship last night, a little inspiration hit, staring out into the ocean. #poetsofbluesky

rumbling waves under my feet
tremors feeding my veins
chasing rivers through my heart
leading back to the sea
foam frothing in a surge of desire
dissonance breaking
under the pressure of the ocean
cracking the bones of old memories
pulling trauma limb from limb
until all that is left are the waters
my soul
and its claimer
dancing on top of the cresting waves
in a pentatonic harmony
like reflections of the gibbous moon
we jump and swirl and tangle
swell and surge and break
until we dissolve back into the night
with salt and heat and sighs
Lynn Peyo

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🦊LynnPeyo🐲 @lynnpeyo.bsky.social · 08/03/2026

#vss365 #spellbound Sometimes we don’t see what’s right in front of us for what it is, unless we let ourselves get taken apart by a storm first 🌊 #amwriting #fiction #flashfiction #fantasy

He chuckled. The way she got more agitated by the second, not understanding what he was trying to make her see, was exquisite.
“Stop playing with me,” she said, crossing her arms. He sighed as if he were indulging a child, looking back out into the silent storm while the storm inside her reflection was getting ready to burst. He watched her fight with herself, then get up and walk over to stand at an arm’s length next to him, bristling, holding on to her arms as hard as she could. Reeled in. He suppressed the grin creeping in around the corners of his lips. Slowly, he turned his attention back to her. “Stop?” he smirked. “Never.”
She cursed him under her breath, then punched his shoulder. He pretended it made a dent, then grabbed her hand with one of his, curling his fingers around hers. He waited just long enough to feel her heartbeat skip, and the heat rush into her face. “What makes you hold on to the idea you’re without a partner?”
Confused, she looked from her trapped fingers up into his eyes, the colours of thunderstorms in a distant dream. “I…,” she began. He let go of her hand, trailing a feather touch down her arm, motion catching her gaze. He slid off his seat to stand in front of her. Heat in her face, she made an attempt. “You’re not…”
The attempt died when two fingers under her chin forced her to look up at him. Thunderstorms breaking through fog. Those damn eyes, she thought, shuddering. In silence, spellbound, she stood, and looked at him, lost at what to say. Reeled in, pulled out. “Not what?” he asked firmly.
A tremor ran across her eyes. “You’re not human,” she said weakly.
“Ah.” He tapped the tip of her nose, and smiled. Out of water. Now, to teach her how to breathe.

“Had you specified that?”
She made a soft sound that could have been mistaken for a whimper.
“Had you specified you wanted a human partner?” he repeated.
“I thought… that would be obvious…”
He laughed. “Oh, darling. Nothing is obvious when you ask for things you truly want. Nothing other than the very core of your wish.” He brushed a lock of hair out of her face.
She took a deep breath. “You’re what I wished for?”
“Am I not?”
She wanted to tell him angrily and in every detail how he was absolutely the opposite of what she ever would have asked for or could ever want, but her soul knew better than to let her speak. Instead, she let go of all the air in her lungs with a single, shivering breath and fell against him. He caught her instantly. “I’m stuck with you, then,” she mumbled into his chest. Hand in her back, he pulled her close, parting her hair gently with the other. Pressing his lips on her scalp, he answered.
“For all time.”
Her hands wound around his back, like two hesitant thoughts forming in the wake of an intuition, anchoring herself in the moment. The tears only came when she realised that he had felt like home all along.
Lynn Peyo

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🦊LynnPeyo🐲 @lynnpeyo.bsky.social · 08/03/2026

#SenseWrds prompt 192 Lilting | shadows | divided You move in the dark and the spaces you leave sing with voices made from the whispers of forgotten stars and the veil between has never been thinner than when you reach through to touch my dreams with storm and haunting melodies

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🦊LynnPeyo🐲 @lynnpeyo.bsky.social · 06/03/2026

It is #FlashFriday. That’s a thing, right? If not, I declare it so. My day started with fury. It didn’t end there. It didn’t even last long. Often, it’s the unexpected things that turn everything around 🌙 ✨ Things, visits, words. #vssdaily #shutter #claim #vss365 #magnanimous

"Fuck," she cussed, biting her lips, "I'm so fucking done." Yet another opponent to take her down today. This time, the table leg. "Okay," she stood breathing slowly, “okay. I’ll remove myself. I’ll just… I’ll just leave.”
What a morning. Dog failing to listen to her, acting out against others, broomstick falling on her, cat running over her feet claws first, window shutter almost pinching her finger…
The latest: a sharp edge colliding with her little toe. She turned on her heels to grab her coat. I will remove myself from the situation had been the mantra that had kept her from blowing. Yet with her toe screaming in pain, the kettle was about to burst.
When it took her three tries to get her arms properly into the sleeves, she screamed in frustration and tossed the coat on the ground, barely suppressing the urge to stomp on it in vexation.
“What is it with this fucking day.” Anger poured out of her every pore. If the Gods had chosen violence today, so would she. She bristled, grabbing a different jacket, then reached for the door handle, when a palm flat out in front of her face both brake checked her and somehow pushed her several feet back without even touching her.
“Stop,” he said.
She did, looking up at him bewildered. Where had he come from out of a sudden? Not that it was unusual for him to show up unannounced, but while she was in the middle of steeping herself in irritation — that might have been a first.
“What?” was all she managed.
He shook his head and sighed, eyes gentle. “Just stop.”
An odd sensation flooded over her. As if he had caught he red-handed in sin. As if she had betrayed him somehow, by being this angry. Confused, she dropped the jacket. Her floor was getting a little crowded.
A soft motion ran through him. He let his hand drop, and took a step toward her. “Breathe,” he tried to remind her.
Guarded, she narrowed her eyes, watching his every movement. He came closer still, so close she had to lift her gaze.

With a single finger, he tapped her sternum, repeating. “Breathe.”
She rolled her eyes, sighed, and took a deep breath.
He smiled. “Good. Now. Listen to me.”
A sound of annoyance, but she closed her eyes and nodded. Why not hear out what kind of wisdom he claimed to have for her on this shitty day.
He leaned closer to her ear. Shit, she thought. Too close. When I can feel your breath, you’re too close. A shy line of goosebumps spread downwards from her neck to her shoulders.
“You,” he said, low, voice laced with the heaviness of attention and a secret that needed to speak. When felt the outside of his fingers brush her cheek, she opened her eyes. He had leaned back again, eyes locking on hers. What now? Something about his face reminded her of the first ray of sun peeking in between sunken branches. There was something akin to a smile, curling around his lips like smoke around a lake in the morning.
Only when she started wondering if he was ever going to say more, he did.
“You,” he repeated, “are loved.”
And the sun washed over her face with a warmth that both took her breath and made her want to cry. “What…?” she choked.
“I’m reminding you of what you’ve forgot. You’re loved.”
That doesn’t even make sense. Why would that have anything to do with… She felt her voice crack.
“Always,” he continued.
Her lips trembled. She tried to stop them by pressing them together, but the tremor instead moved to her eyes. He grabbed her hand. Had he always been this radiant? She was too distracted trying to make sense of what she was feeling that she put up no resistance, when he lifted her hand to his lips, and pressed a soft kiss on her knuckles. Like a cold hush of night pulling back when the rays of the sun hit. “Deeply.”
She blinked. A single teardrop dislodged from her eye. She saw him watching its slow trail next to her nose, until it nestled in the corner of her mouth. He cocked his head, as if he were looking at something truly endearing. He let go of her hand, and caught t…

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🦊LynnPeyo🐲 @lynnpeyo.bsky.social · 05/03/2026

A room of silence Lethargy owns no space where Idle dreams survive #vss365 #lethargy #haikufeels #idle #haiku

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🦊LynnPeyo🐲 @lynnpeyo.bsky.social · 28/02/2026

Ah yes. My fingers have appropriately thawed from the winter walk. Here is my flash fiction entry for #vss365 #quest #obsessed #WIPSnips #walk #vssfantasy #chosen #vssmagic #pour Ruin and surrender, and a black cloak of midnight.

“It’s like you’re on a quest to ruin me or something.”
“No such thing.”
She stared at him incredulously. “And yet, you’re always talking about my surrender!”
He sighed, softly. “Firstly, I do not. You do. You’re nigh obsessed with not surrendering.” He held up a hand to stop her from arguing, or walking away. Sometimes, that helped. “Secondly, surrender and ruin are not the same.”
She crossed her arms. “I’ve heard you mention both in the same breath. Repeatedly.”
His grin came and vanished as sudden as a strike of lightning.
“Ah, yes. That just brings me back to my first point, on how you keep speaking about surrendering as if it were your ruin.”
She grimaced. “Obviously it would be.” His chuckle did not deter her from continuing. “I’m holding on to what sense of self I have left, because if I did not, like you said, if I did something like… fuck it, ‘surrender’, that would surely mean my sense of self, or whatever, would be completely ruined. No? I can’t be wrong. They can’t be wrong. It’s just logical.” Was it not? The way he looked at her made her have a hard time keeping believing her own dogmas. He just had a way of crushing them, as thoroughly as a firestorm, while simultaneously as infuriatingly gentle as a dew drop on a clover leaf.
He brushed off a speck of dust from his sleeve, then moved toward her. “And why is it you keep holding on to your so-called sense of self so hard?” he said, words soft, eyes like embers ready to burst into flame.
She did not like that. Not at all. “Uh…,” she started. Why did she hold on, indeed? Why should she. Was it a choice she had made? Had it been chosen for her? What’s a sense of self anyway? Was it important? He was standing so close now that she could feel the heat radiating off his chest. It might be a better idea, she thought, to give him more space. He brought his face closer to hers, eliminating that notion. Unfortunately, she had this tendency to forget what they were talking about, once his otherworldly eyes got to…

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🦊LynnPeyo🐲 @lynnpeyo.bsky.social · 28/02/2026

When I got the message that my story The Thrum got selected—I’ve never woken up quicker at 6.30 😂 What a wonderful way to start the day. I am so very excited and happy to have my short under a brilliantly inspiring cover, huddling up around entrances with a bunch of talented writers. So humbled!🙏🏼🥰

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🦊LynnPeyo🐲 @lynnpeyo.bsky.social · 28/02/2026

Do you ever just stop mid-walk in your tracks and start writing, hit by a sudden bolt of inspiration? Several minutes had passed before I noticed it. My hands had become cold, on a #quest for the next #vss365 I’ll have to finish it at home, when my fingers can move again.

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🦊LynnPeyo🐲 @lynnpeyo.bsky.social · 24/02/2026

And through the #stellar darkness we fall. Today’s entry for #vss365 took on a dimmer shade. Welcome ✨ #amwriting #fiction #darkfiction

Somewhere in the depths of the darkness I had fallen, where the walls were slick with nightmares, and the stones smooth with self deprecation, my parched lips parted like ill-fated lovers, and called for help. Yet sounds died in whispers the very moment they were born, falling to the ground like ash on a winter morning. Soon, my throat knew not how to speak, had forgot how to scream, and collapsed under the weight of memory.
Only my thoughts remained truly alive — ugly, rearing, armed. It seemed as though their single joy was to pierce the weighted frame of my soul into a cushion of velvet, and so they pushed, and pulled, tearing at it the more it struggled.
So it stopped struggling, and I lay still, and I lay quiet, breath sending trembling waves over a shallow pool beside my face, and I knew then, that there was nothing.
I closed my eyes, and in a last, fate-defying attempt, I felt my soul reach out of my body, with a scream so silent, it broke all sound, like a snow flake melting into an ocean of tears.
Unseen, unheard, unknown.
With shattered bones and a crushed will, I folded in on myself into the endless, in a quiet surrender of hope.
And that was when something changed. It was not sudden. And it was not fast. Something just outside myself had begun to move, twin pools of stellar vortexes, which, in their darkness, contained a semblance of light. A phantasm, my thoughts cried out, a fiend, they shouted, and yet it was that darkest of lights I clasped with the last remainder of my self, and somehow, my mere wanting to reach had that something reach back, and pull, gently, and gradually. And as I lay shaking, my scattered self trembling with the strain of holding on to a gossamer of maybe, iridescent plumes of night wrapped around me, scooped me into a handful of life, and breathed into me a will, with a voice like the end of thunder, and a patience that outlasted my downfall, it guided me blind, to a cliff on which my eyes closed at last, and I let myself fall…

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🦊LynnPeyo🐲 @lynnpeyo.bsky.social · 24/02/2026

Intermission, introducing you to my friends. We’ve been making progress. One of the flock now trusts us enough to eat out of my hands 🖤💜 Looks pretty badass when a whole flock of crows flies after you 😂 I should have a special outfit for crow days. “Spot the witch” is a fun little game. #Crows

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🦊LynnPeyo🐲 @lynnpeyo.bsky.social · 23/02/2026

Weekend came and went too fast. How are my lovely #writersofbluesky doing? 🫟 🖋️ In an attempt to get back on the horseback of both work and writing, I did a little flash for #vss365 #knowingly #vssmagic #grey #vssmystery #lingering #BraveWrite #wings #Bedroomeyesprompt #outoflove

“I just don’t get it,” Cath said, mystified. “How could you knowingly invite something like… like that into your life. You’re … you gotta be fucking insane.”
“Something like ‘that’? Like what?” she knew what Cath meant. She just wanted her to say it.
“You know what I mean,” her friend gestured exasperated. “These things never end well, you know that. You should know that. It’s in every single cautionary tale. I just don’t get why you would do that. Why? God fucking dammit.”
“You want to know why?”
“I’d rather you not be bound to him at all, rather than knowing why you bound yourself to him, but yeah, give me one good reason not to give my all to find some way to rip him right back out of you.”
She sighed, then took a deep breath as if to find the right words to explain to her friend what she barely could explain to herself. “Why…,” she repeated, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I guess because… well. He’s someone I can lean on. And he… he found me, when I was lost. He found me.”
Cath looked at her, not sure what to say. There was a heaviness to her words she could not simply brush off. She knew her friend too well for that. And despite what the insults and cusses she wanted to throw at her, she was not known to be stupid, nor impulsive. Which made it even harder for her to wrap her head around why she would ever get entangled with a lingering shade born from the darkest pits.
“He found you…” Cath was not quite sure if that sounded more ominous or fortuitous.
“When I thought no one ever would,” she continued. “When I had no one, nothing. When I walked through crowds of grey faces, when I drowned in the superficiality of the world, when the monochromaticity of every single fucking day started to burn up my soul, it was his hand that grabbed me and pulled me back out. I was lying on the bottom of an ashen pit with broken bones, and he became my wings. I needed someone when I had no voice to call for help. And he heard me. He answered.”
“But… he’s a …”

“You still believe in fairytales?”
Cath huffed. “There’s reasons they’re only told of in connection to nightmares and eternal damnation,” she mumbled.
“You’re being dramatic.” Before Cath could argue, her friend softened her voice, and said “But I know you’re saying it out of love. I understand. I just don’t need … your concern. I don’t need it here. I might have needed it back when I was … in a bad place. Back when I was drowning.” When she saw the expression on Cath’s face, she quickly added, “and I’m not blaming you for not being there, I know you had your own stuff to deal with, that’s all right. I’m just saying, it’s not needed now, and you don’t need to feel you have to be especially cautious because you feel like you have to make up for some other time. It’s okay, really. It happened as it had to. I had to go through the fire and experience not getting burnt once I trusted the flames.”
“Jesus Christ.”
She grinned. “Naw. Wrong guy.”
“Gah. I hate you. You’re the worst friend.”
“Just come give me a hug.”
Cath groaned. “If I hug you, does that mean I’m hugging him too?”
Her friend giggled. “Maybe. Find out?” and she stretched out her arms, grabbing her best friend and pulling her into a big, warm hug. “I love you. Just shut up and trust me when I say I’m doing fine.”
Cath sighed. But who was she to keep arguing. After all, somehow, these hugs had gotten a lot warmer lately, just like her friend’s smiles had become happier, deeper, more complete. It was just eerie how quickly the tide had turned.
“You can thank me later,” came a dark voice from the shadows, crawling into the roots of her hairs like a cold autumn rain. “I’d just advise to get used to me. I’m not going anywhere.”
She heard her friend chuckle. Great. That probably meant they were both royally fucked.

Lynn Peyo

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🦊LynnPeyo🐲 @lynnpeyo.bsky.social · 20/02/2026

💜💜💜 For you #poetsofbluesky, may you give this little place a browse, and enjoy the art and #poetry ✨ Well met!

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🦊LynnPeyo🐲 @lynnpeyo.bsky.social · 20/02/2026

Happy Friday indeed! One of my pieces, [unmoored] was featured in the latest issue by @tapintopoetry.bsky.social 🖊️🌊 alongside 14 other poetic souls 🥰 I’ll celebrate by watching the ocean and revising some of my work 🤭💜 Thank you so much Emily 💜 #poetry tapintopoetry.wordpress.com/2026/02/20/t...

tapintopoetry.wordpress.com

Tap into Poetry #19

Tap into Poetry is a non-profit magazine established in 2022. Through the sharing of poetry, we strive to be an exposition both for aspiring poets broadening their portfolios, and for lit…

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