#I was disappointed to realize id be out of state for work today but HELL if I was gonna let that stop me

[ethereal-moon-child]

Today is the 1 year anniversary of something really special, so to celebrate I finally did some magic again after so long and cast a curse 🤗💕

[clouditae]

First Love | Prologue

Yoongi x reader | 18+ | college au | tattoo artist au | angst | fluff | swearing

Word: 2.4k

You first saw him in the multi-purpose room. Later learn his name, and on your third year, as he becomes your neighbor, you discover his lifestyle. Knowing your crush on him was nothing but that, you wanted to find the courage to look for love. Asking your friend for help, you’re pointed in the direction of the expert. Your neighbor, Min Yoongi

Chapter Index

You drag your suitcase up the first flight of stairs, always hating the fact that you're not first to pick rooms when it comes to the date. Your roommate has an earlier time when it comes to picking a room, and she never picks the first floor. You only have one more flight until you reach the second floor, but you are tired from having to carry all your luggage up the stairs from the rental car you are going to have to return tomorrow. If only your parents weren’t so far away. 

“Do you need some help?” a voice asks from behind you, startling you. 

You almost drop your suitcase if it weren’t for the figure behind you stopping it from falling back down the stairs. “I’m so sorry,” you say, taking the suitcase back from the stranger. 

He laughs. “I’m sorry I scared you. I didn’t know you had not heard me walk up the steps. I should be louder.” 

“No, it’s okay,” you begin, finally looking at him and all words are forgotten, “I’m…” He has an oval shape like head, his red beanie, that hid his dark blond hair, stood out compared to his sun kissed skin. When he smiles at you, his chestnut colored eyes almost disappear. He’s wearing a gray sweatshirt and dark gray sweats that are cut to his knees. “I’m the one who is walking slow,” you finally manage, forcing yourself to stop staring. 

“It’s move in day. Everyone is slow when it comes to moving. No one wants to unpack,” he answers, following you up the rest of the stairs until the two of you reach the second floor. You turn to face him, unsure of what else to say. You aren’t a very social person. “What floor do you live on?” he suddenly asks. 

“This one.” 

He smiles again, this one bigger than the last. “I do, too. Maybe we’ll see each other around,” he tells you, sounding so friendly it makes you question if he is being honest or humoring you. You nod, not sure as to what the best reply is. “Well, it was nice meeting you…”

Understanding the way he trailed off, you answer, “Y/N.” 

“Ah. Y/N. Nice to meet you, I’m Hoseok.” He extends his hand out towards you. 

You slowly took his hand sputtering, “Nice to meet you as well.” 

He points at the door next to the other flight of stairs that led to the third floor. The direction you’re going. “I’m headed that way.”

You honestly don’t want to say it, but you reply, “Me too.” 

“Really? Are we hallmates?” he questions, his voice showing signs of excitement. 

“I suppose we are,” you acknowledge. 

“That’s exciting.” You watch as Hoseok opens the door that leads you to the center hall, gesturing for you to enter first. You thank him and enter the hallway. He walks alongside you as the two of you walk a short distance until he stops at the first set of doors. He points to the second door closest to the exit towards the stairs. “This is me,” he begins, patting his pockets, “I hope to see you around, Y/N.” He frowns as he shoves his hands in his pockets.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I just realized I never grabbed my key off my desk when I left earlier,” he chuckles, knocking on his door. Immediately the door swings open, and you thought you felt your heart stop. He looks as if he had just woken up. His jet black hair disheveled, eyes barely open, and his lips in a little pout. The corner of his black, short sleeved shirt lifted as he rubbed his eye. “You’re awake,” Hoseok says in delight. 

“Well you were knocking so damn loud,” he grumbles in a gravelly voice. 

“It wasn’t that loud,” Hoseok protests.

Before Yoongi can argue, a familiar voice calls out, “There you are, Y/N. I thought you died or something.” Coming out of your own little world, your attention is now on your best friend, and roommate, Ari. “I finished unpacking a while ago, so I made your bed for you.” 

You open your mouth to reply, but Hoseok interrupts, “You’re our neighbor?” You can only nod, eyes meeting Yoongi briefly before looking at Hoseok. “That’s even better! Our chances of seeing each other are a lot higher.” 

“I should go,” you mumble, heading down as you quickly walk towards Ari. 

“Bye, Y/N,” Hoseok calls. 

You wave and enter your dorm, the door closing behind Ari as you set your luggage on your bed. Your heart is racing, cheeks most likely a blush color. “What’s up with you?” Ari asks, climbing into her bed as she watches you place a hand over your heart. 

“It’s him,” you reply in a whisper. 

“Who?”

You look at her, her strawberry blond hair coming loose from her bun. “Him.” 

You can see the cranks working in her eyes before they light up in realization. “Oh, you mean your crush for two years?”

“He has a name you know,” you remind her. 

Watching her as she places her finger to her rosy cheek. “Ah, yes. Fuckboy Yoongi,” she avows. 

“He is not a fuckboy,” you object.

“Have you heard the rumors about him? If he’s our neighbor, then those rumors are about to be confirmed soon enough,” Ari implies. 

“They’re just rumors.”

Ari sighs, “I just don’t want your feelings to get hurt if they are true.” 

“They won’t,” you promise her. 

With that, you continue to unpack, listening to your roommate complain about a professor she hasn’t met yet. She rants long after you have finished packing and the two of you are making your way downstairs to the dining hall to grab dinner. When the two of you enter the dining hall, you wait in line as the woman behind the counter takes the student’s ID and swipe it along the card reader. The line goes from four, and four goes to one. When the woman gives the card back to the person in front of you, you hand her your ID. 

“He is making us write three essays, and they’re only worth 13% of our grade,” Ari whines, handing her ID after you received yours back. “Our midterm and final are worth more, and you know I suck at taking tests. I’m not going to pass this class. I can already feel it.” 

The two of you enter the separate room where the food is displayed. A salad bar in the center, drinks to the right, and sweets to the left. Different types of foods are shown everywhere else. 

“What class is this?” you ask her, grabbing a plate from the stack by the salad bar. 

“Psycho,” she cries, taking a plate you hand her. “I actually have to show up to every class, participate, and probably kiss his ass a little so he knows I’m desperate.” 

You giggle. “I’m sure you’ll be fine, Ari. You passed syntax last semester.” 

“And I did everything I had just told you. Maybe a little more. Hell, I even laughed at his jokes I didn’t understand,” Ari tells you before she wanders off to the direction where the pasta is. You follow in suit, eyes on the fettuccine alfredo. “Guess I’ll just have to read the textbook more than once.” 

“Have faith in yourself,” you tell her, handing your plate to the server who places a spoonful of pasta on it before giving it back. 

“I guess,” she sighs, taking her plate and drags her feet towards the salad bar, clearly disappointed with her decision to take the class. 

You don’t bother comforting her and instead you grab a bottle of water. Entering the dining room once again, you scan the area for an empty table. In the back of the room, you can see an empty table in the corner. Ari walks up next to you, letting out a sigh. “School sucks.”

You laugh, gesturing towards the table you found. “Let’s eat.” Leading her past the occupied tables, you set your food down, taking a seat. “You’ve passed all your classes before. You can pass this class, too. Have more faith in yourself, Ari,” you point out. 

Ari hums in response as the two of you eat in a comfortable silence. Your eyes wander around the room, watching as everyone sits at their tables and happily chats with one another. You’ve been living in the dorms for three years and you aren’t all that social like everyone else was. You watch as they greet one another as they pass by. It’s like they all know each other, and all you know is Ari. She’s been your friend and roommate for three years, and you wouldn’t trade her for the world. 

“If it isn’t my favorite neighbor,” a voice calls. You look up to see Hoseok smiling down at you as he holds a plate of food in his hand. “Mind if I join you guys?”

You glance at Ari who only shrugs. “Sure,” you say. 

He smiles, taking a seat next to you. “My roommate wouldn’t come eat with me, and I didn’t want to be by myself. I’m lucky I saw you guys,” he says, taking a bite of his pizza. He looks at Ari. “Ah. Right.” He sticks his hand out towards her. “I’m Hoseok.” 

Ari smiles, shaking his hand. “Ari.” 

“Well, Ari. Y/N. There’s a party happening on the third floor if you guys want to come. It’s several rooms that are having it, but it’s one big one,” he says, taking a bigger bite of his pizza. “Plus it’ll be nice to have someone I know there. Even if I only met you two today.”

“A party? I am so in,” Ari says, an excited smile on her face. “You going, Y/N?”

You shake your head. “I need to fix my camera,” you tell her, giving her a small, apologetic smile. 

“Camera? Is that a hobby?” Hoseok asks, finishing his first pizza. 

You shake your head again. “Major.” 

“Oh, really? You must be a pro at it.” 

“I’m really not,” you reply sheepishly, your face flushing. 

“She’s lying. She’s really good at it,” Ari tells Hoseok, dismissing your comment. You kick her under the table, but she ignores you completely. “I’ll show you some time.”

 “No one will be showing anything,” you state in a threatening tone but it doesn’t come out all that threatening. They clearly don’t take you seriously, but say nothing more about it. 

By the time you’re done eating, you and Ari are in your room, Ari is currently deciding which dress she likes more. You watch her as she switches between dresses, each hovering over her body as she tilts her head to the side in question. “Which looks better on me?” she asks you, her eyes meeting yours through the closet mirror. 

“Why are you dressing up? Isn’t it just a party upstairs?” you question. 

“It is just a party upstairs, but it’s a party where I plan to find a boyfriend. A better one than my ex,” she says. “Now which one do you think looks better?”

You let out a sigh, shaking your head. “The black one. It makes your hair stand out compared to the red one.”  

She smiles at you. “I knew I could trust your opinion.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m not a fashion designer, and it’s common sense.” 

“Either way, you’re the expert.” Ari walks to the bathroom door in the corner of the room next to the sink. She gives a quick knock before entering the bathroom. You’ve known her for three years now, and you still find it funny how the two of you change in the shared bathroom rather than in front of each other. You guess it was a habit by now. 

A minute or so later, Ari comes out of the bathroom wearing the black dress you picked out. It’s a form-fitting dress, the straps as big as your index finger. The dress fits her curves perfectly, showing all that she has to give. Sometimes you wish you had her confidence in wearing such a dress, but then again you’re perfectly fine in your seaweed green sweats and big, black shirt that can pass as a dress. 

“And you’re sure that if you bend over, nothing will show?” you ask in concern, staring down at how short the dress was. 

“I’ve bent over quite a few times, so no, nothing will be revealed.” She glances at you as she slips on her heels. “Would you like to confirm?”

You shake your head. “I trust you.” Ari does a quick lookover in the mirror before grabbing her room key and phone. “Have fun, and be safe,” you tell her as she opens the door. 

“Don’t work too hard on your camera,” she says before leaving you alone in the room. 

You can hear the clicks of her heels against the floor until you can no longer hear her. Stretching your arms out, you stare at the camera that lies on your desk. You honestly don’t want to work on it. At least, not tonight when you’re already in bed and all you have to do is switch off the light and close your eyes. You think for a second or two before finally deciding to just go to sleep. Today has been a long day of unpacking, and going to sleep before having to wake up to go to some mandatory meeting sounds a lot better with each passing second.

Switching the light off next to your bed, you get under your covers and lie there in silence, counting sheep. So much has happened today, and the one that repeats in your head the most is that Yoongi is your neighbor. 

Yoongi. The guy you’ve had a crush on for three years now is your neighbor. That means a possible opportunity to talk to him. Especially now that Hoseok seems to want to be friends, maybe you’ll see Yoongi a lot more now. 

Your thoughts are interrupted by a light tapping sound on the wall next to you. It’s a rhythmic tapping sound. Then slowly, ever so slowly, the light tapping turns louder and harder, and with that loud pounding sound, a girl's voice can be heard. 

You lie in bed frozen. 

“I just don’t want your feelings to get hurt if they are true.”

[seijorhi]

asks :))

what i have learned today is that y’all wanna get fucked by some monsters...

What does nostos mean? What language is it in? 🤔 also I of course loved it, mind blown as usual queen

it’s ancient greek! it means homecoming, the idea of a triumphant return home for the hero after a long journey. i found it through looking at the root of nostalgia. in this fic of course it’s kind of a grim tongue in cheek play on it. the reader’s coming back to the mountains, but she’s running away after a bad breakup, and the welcome she gets is... shall we say less than ideal haha

Just read nostos-

First of all as a person who reads monster shit- hell ya. Mhm. That’s some good shit right there. That was DELICIOUS horror. It actually had me a bit nervous and afraid to read what was gonna happen next 😳

Secondly- omg I wanna know what happened next (at the end) 👀 know what I mean??? 😼

ANYWAY AS ALWAYS you never disappoint and your writing is fantastic (if/when you write horror yandere stuff again I’ll be there- frothing at the mouth. A+++++ work ILY💖)

you want me to write the monster porn, just say it bby ghfjdkshgfjkd but ty

Omfg that fic was so good!

Did the readers mom know about monster kuroo?? Or was she just worried because of the previous murder? And did Kuroo somehow manipulate reader into coming back to the forest or was it just a big coincidence? (👁👄👁 there's no such thing as a coincidence)

Looking forward to your future work <3

ty nonnie!! i didn’t have the right space for it, but after kohsuke was ripped apart and eaten kuroo stayed by the reader’s side until late in the night, only disappearing when he heard the reader’s parents/search party approaching. they found her lying in pools of blood (and scattered half eaten body parts), shaking and unresponsive – they knew no animal could’ve done something like that. so they knew something lurked in those woods, but considering the reader had repressed the memories, her mom couldn’t just come out and say it <33

You are an AMAZING horror writer!!!

The uneasiness I got from the conversations with the mom is just *chefs kiss*

A+++++

ahh thank you!! horror is such a hard genre to write because i’m never sure if the suspense and everything’s gonna hit right haha

I read Nostos before going to sleep last night and at the time I was like “sure hope this doesn’t give me nightmares” and thankfully it didn’t lol. But I think I’m willing to take that chance again because it’s so GOOD and I think I’m just going to have to relive it – @ohno-otome

fhdjgbfhjkdfn i’m glad it didn’t give you nightmares bby!! but i also appreciate that haha, i’m an absolute wimp with scary movies and stuff but i just can’t stop watching them haha

I just wanna say that I was listening to "You're a psychotic villain playlist" on youtube while reading Kuroo's oneshot and I can't explain the emotions I felt, but I'd let Kuroo do things to me asdfghjkl – @itishebihime-samaforyou

ooh nice! sometimes the right playlist makes things doubly as fun haha

OH MY GOD!?!?! Nostos was soooo GOOD?!?!? Like it was so creepy (but in a good way), and scary and suspenseful!! And the ending!?!? Omggg honestly one my fav fics from you!! You did my mans Kuroo justice 🥺💖💕

TYYYYYYY i was genuinely concerned i was gonna scare everybody off haha

Ah! The new fic! Chiefs kiss! Magnificent! Bravo!🧚‍♀️✨🧞‍♀️🦖🦭🌹💫

tysm nonnie!!! <33

i’m pretty sure i’m in the same/similar timezone as you? and i do be staying up late to be one of the first to read your fics (i usually stay up late anyways). so imagine my surprise when i see you post in the afternoon. in conclusion, whether you post to align with your european and american readers’ timezone, my gmt+10 arse will still be one of the first to read your fics. also nostos sjdufigyyjf i have to admit, i recently just found out about monster fucking and nostos scratched the itch😫 i feel bad for kohsuke though

bby i always post at like 2-4 in the morning please get some sleep!! the fics will be there in the morning lmao. i kinda low key forget about my aussie/gmt+10 followers because i think there’s like... 3 of you haha

Honestly if i could give u a dollar everytime i got off to your fics, you'd probably be rich by now

lmao the idea that people find my fics hot enough to get off to still blows my mind lol

your newest kuroo fic was so SO good!! its totally okay if you dont want to answer this so you can keep things ambiguous but is monster kuroo planning on killing the reader after he's...done with them

thank you, bby!! but no, monster kuroo isn’t gonna eat her – he’s had plenty of chances to do that if that’s what he wanted, but he has other plans for the poor reader

RHI, I WANT TO STATE FOR THE RECORD THAT I AM OKAY WITH MORE MONSTER FUCKING IN THE FUTURE. i also want to say im not a monster fucker, but that just feels like a lie at this point. okay, now that that's off my chest, i love it. the mystery, the connections of kuroo to a cat. kuroo's probably gonna go and batter around his prey once they're under his grip like my cat does. hopefully the reader will come out somewhat unscathed, if they are ever allowed to leave 😌 love this, love how different it is, the way kuroo just tries to weasel in. very monster and yandere vibes, very you. have i said i love this yet?? id willingly let him get me drunk on his cock, maybe never leave the peace of the mountains again

‘i want to say that i’m not a monster fucker’ bby the denial will get you nowhere haha. just lean in and embrace it hgfjkdlkfgjnkdl ahh but thank you this is such a sweet ask ILY!!!

Omg omg the monster thing kuroo was in ur latest fic is so familiar to me abdhdmfnjfjf. I remember being told abt a monster with VERY SIMILAR characteristics to it (aka the not being able to go inside a house unless invited and using fire to lure ppl out) AND JFC IT TERRIFIED ME. Esp how when i told ppl around me and they didnt recognize what it was, but it was somehow known to the kid that told me abt it.

(Some ppl thought it was familiar but still didnt know what it was)

Do u know what im talking abt? Hopefully u do

-🥚

GHFJDK so the monster in this is kind of based off the nekomata spirit in japanese folklore - they can appear like people, torment victims by reanimating the corpses of their loved ones, they’ve been blamed for forest fires, so it was just fun to use that as a basis and then go buck wild haha. anyway thanks for the ask bby!

Rest In Peace Kohsuke, you would’ve loved Haikyuu season 5😔✊– @joyvstheworld

poor kohsuke deserved better, i’m just mean to the oc’s i throw into fics haha

Monsterfucking ❤❤❤❤❤❤ a little annoyed you're making me simp for yan Kuroo though (a vibe tho tbh). You're so extremely talented!!!! &

This is probably a stupid question, but how did Kageyama react when he couldn't find y/n? How is life with yan Suga? I imagine probably awful BUT yknow maybe the stockholm syndrome set in fast lmao. Sorry, I'm going on a binge reading your stuff. - @oracleofdin

i will not apologise for making you simp for kuroo he deserves it the man’s a snacc. and as far as your second question, suga’s a very caring, very smothering kinda yandere, so i guess in some ways it’s better than what the reader had with kageyama but... pick your poison haha

That was so good. I’m so shook rn I can’t comprehend anything but how good that was and how good a writer you are

TYSM NONNIE!!! <33

Ok, so, I just read Final Girl and the lil' ticket addition to it and just---

Well, ok I've been playing Dead by Daylight a lot lately? And I'm just picturing Tetsu as the newest killer "The Trickster" and I'm positively RANDY.

Your writing is ALREADY thirst inducing and just as satisfying, but this has SENT ME- If you're not familiar, please...

https://youtu.be/iowkiPobYYQ

Understand my thirst. (I'd also like to clarify, I use a different skin for him that gives him black hair and he looks like Kuroo with an undercut.)

~ @the-casual-hedonist 🌸

i love how feral y’all got for final girl kuroo. like bo and akaashi had his fans, but i put a spiked bat in kuroo’s hands and y’all lost your goddamn minds and i love to see it. fghdjkvhfjdkls thanks for the ask bby

idk why but I love preggo reader as long as I don't pretend it's me 😢✋ I hate babies n pregnancy anywhere else other than horny haikyuu fics

i think that’s a valid thing for a lot of fans. the idea of breeding is sexy, the actual getting pregnant and having a kid thing... not so much. but especially with non-con scenario’s, it’s more about the aspect on control than the actual desire to have kids. but yeah, i feel you

Sorry to bother but uh was just wondering in fracture did Osamu kill his wife or was it actually an “unfortunate event” ? Love your work btw!!

he most certainly did :))

LMFAO RHI i totally get not liking cheating/infidelity fics (towards reader) bc IT HIRTS ME SO BAD I CANNOT HANDLE THOSE.

id be reading fics those fics like: tf you mean my yandere aimt gonna baby me and only want me??🤨🤨🤨⁉️‼️

EXACTLY! listen i get that it’s a fucked up fantasy, but in my fucked up fantasy you damn well better have the decency to be loyal smh

Finders keepers is the most beautiful thing I've read by you: I read it twice like I normally do and here's what I figured out the second time (that's when I analyze it and find the little tidbits of things that are much darker than they appear (: )

To start I LOVE THE DETAILS OF THEM NEVER TEACHING READER ANYTHING- at first I assumed "oh they might see her as a little sister or child or something" but realized thAT WAS THE ISSUE!! they infantilize her and isolate her from everyone but her group. the small details like that are what make the story amazing 😎💅

ahh thank you so much, nonnie!! pls this is making me soft 🥺

I just wanted to stop by and say that I love your writing and I hope you're doing well!!! Drink plenty of water and keep up the amazing work :) but seriously you're one of the best fanfic writers I've seen on tumblr! I read your "Imitation" piece about kuroo and i keep coming back to it, it's so good! I did want to ask if you think it'd be possible for the reader to ever escape with the baby (or at least attempt to). Or if Kenma would "help" at all just to put an end to kuroo's antics lmao

kenma would in no way help the reader, and tbh by that point if kuroo did get her pregnant, she’d be far too emotionally dependant on him to actually even want to leave, but thanks for the ask!

You know who I think would be a perfect Yandere in the JJK world? Choso.

🚨Spoilers Ahead🚨

After being locked in a glass jar for however long he was, and all that happened with his brothers, I feel like he would absolutely never let his darling out of his sight. He would be possessive. Obsessive. And Oh So delusional. Sure he’d be your anything - he truly is a softy - but to what end?🤤

choso would make an excellent yandere, ngl 😌

what au/troupe of your fav character(s) that you have written do you like the most?

(rlly hope this makes sense🙏)

i am always a slut for soulmate au’s :))

[cellophanejpeg]

dancing with our hands tied || pt. i

Pairing: Marcus Pike x female!reader

Summary: Marcus is your boss and you really enjoy working with him. But a work trip to the west coast makes him visit the past and you realize not only you like him, but you’re deeply in love with him. The only problem is that you both work together and it would never work. Or so you think.

a/n: so basically i had to split this bad boy in two cause i was writing a whole damn the mentalist episode. all you need to know is: i know nothing about how the FBI works or how crimes are solved, so i made it all up. deeply sorry if i offend any fbi agents that could be here?? if you don’t watch the mentalist, basically patrick jane is an asshole that can read people’s body language and points them out in public. that’s really all you need to know, it’s a dumb show tbh. also, this contains detective work and law enforcement, which, during times like this, i would understand if you don’t want to read this. don’t forget to donate to the black lives matter movement and sign petitions against police brutality. i’ve reblogged a variety of posts with link for donations and petitions, they're under the tag #blm resources.

Warnings: mutual pining, some angst, a pinch of fake dating

Word count: 6.7k (and there’s more coming)

part ii | MASTERLIST

The badge around your neck swings as you run and you have to hold it in place. The streets of L.A. are full of curious eyes, gathered behind the yellow tape; you check your phone one more time and sigh. No messages, no missing calls. It’s not like him, you know something’s up.

When you show your ID to the police officer that’s in charge of controlling the people, he lets you duck under the tape and approach the other agents already in the scene. You exhale, panting from your run as you introduce yourself.

“I’m with the FBI,” You tell them after stating your name. They all eye you like you’re from another dimension.

“What’s the FBI’s interest in all this?” Asks a red haired agent whose name you don’t know.

You take a look at the corpse on the ground. “‘Cause this is our guy.”

Crouching next to the lifeless body, you take a pair of latex gloves from the pocket of your jacket and put them on; with gentle fingers you tilt the dead’s head sideways so you can look for a specific mark behind his ear.

"Yep," You tilt the man's head for everyone to see a burning scar on the shape of an eye. "The Crystal Eyes gang.” You take the man’s hand to show the pinky finger ring the gang members wear, but it’s missing. Furrowing your brows you notice the tan line on his finger, where the ring should be.

The only man who actually smiles at your statement is the blond, blue-eyed guy. The rest of the agents sigh and roll her eyes, and you frown already irritated. First, your partner doesn’t show to a crime scene of a case he’s the head of, then these CBI agents are clearly not your fans.

The woman who seemed to be the boss rolls her eyes at the man and looks at your direction. Her blue eyes darting to you with anger and you’re not sure if it’s directed at you or the man with the arrogant smile. When she speaks, her voice is demanding, like she’s also your boss. “Are you leading this case on your own? Where is your partner?”

It takes everything in you not to tell her to fuck off. “He’s–” You swallow. “Coming.” You stand, looking away as you take off the gloves and discard them. Taking another look at your phone, you sigh in disappointment when you see nothing. Fucking hell, he’s not coming. What an idiot. “So, this guy’s name is–”

“You’re lying.” A voice interrupted you. It’s the man with the arrogant smile. “He’s not coming, is he?” You watch the way he smiles at you. “You keep checking your phone and the way you looked away when you talked tells us you’re either waiting for someone’s call or you’re checking to see if something happened to him.”

Fuck. How does he know all that? Were you that transparent or are you just a bad liar?

“I’m sorry, what’s your name?” You ask him, shoving your hands in the pockets of your FBI jacket.

“Jane.” He smiles, showing you an ID card that has a picture of him above the name ‘Patrick Jane’. “Consultant.”

Nodding slowly, you frown at him. “Jane.” You tilt your head as you speak. “He’s coming, don’t worry. If he doesn’t arrive, he must have a great, great excuse for his absence. Either way it doesn’t concern you. What you do need to know is that him and I are after this gang for about a year now, and this is the first lead we have in three months. We’re more than capable of handling this.”

“Clearly not, if your partner is not even here,” The boss says. You exhale sharply. You were going to kill your partner.

“Listen, Agent…”

“Lisbon.”

“Agent Lisbon,” You repeat her name. “I know it’s hard to see a case being taken from your team, and I’m sorry about this, but– You gotta let me do my job.”

Lisbon sighs, crossing her arms “What do they do? The gang. Do they sell drugs? They kill people? Maybe there’s something we can help you with.”

“Well, I’m with the art squad so…” You pause. “They steal art.”

You watch as all the agents look at their boss and an awkward silence tenses the air. Lisbon widen her eyes and then looks away from you, clearing her throat. It’s like their own unspoken thing.

“Art?” Patrick says, amused. “From where?”

The way he says it makes it look like a joke and you’re not sure if he’s mocking you or not.

“Art galleries, museums, you pick.” You shrug, crossing your arms in a defensive manner. “They see a place with an expensive art piece? They steal. It could even be a rich man’s living room. When it comes to Crystal Eyes, they don’t give a fuck.”

Silence hangs in the air and you could hear a pin drop, even out here in the open. Finally, red haired woman, Van Pelt clears her throat, alleviating a bit of the tension you still don’t know why it’s there.

“And, uh–” She swallows. “These robberies involve killing other people or…?”

“No, they usually use a stealth strategy.” You almost sigh, relieved for the broken silence. “Although, one time, they killed an old man at his own mansion when the robbery didn’t go as planned. I don’t believe this an accident, though.”

“Interesting,” Jane mumbled. “Hey, do you happen to know an Agent–”

“We’re done here!” Lisbon interrupts him and starts walking away. You watch her give him a look only a wife would give to her husband. Quickly glancing at their hands, you notice they use the same ring on the same finger.

Of course they’re married.

Lisbon says your name, getting your attention again and nods at you. “He’s all yours. Have fun.”

And with that, her and her team walk away from the scene. Sighing, you check your phone one last time. Still, no messages, no missing calls, not even a text. Nothing. Gritting your teeth, you shake your head.

“Godammint, Pike.”

…

You and your team had been in California literally for half a day before the call for the dead guy came in. It’s the first lead you all have on this gang in three months, so as soon as one of the informants let you know one of the leader were in L.A., you all flew to the west coast and based yourselves in one of the FBI quarters.

As soon as you walk in the big room, you see Marcus’ sitting at his desk, typing something on a computer that looks like it hasn’t been used since the 90’s.

“Pike!” You exclaim, getting his attention. His face changes from focused, to confused, to a tired look in a matter of seconds. Strolling towards him, you watch as he leans back on his chair. “Three years I’ve been working with you and you’ve never pulled a stunt like this!” You slam your hand on his desk, making everyone around you jump, except from him. “If you wanted me to look like an idiot in front of the CBI guys, well, you did it!”

He raises his hands in defense and says your name, the low baritone of his voice is enough to send shivers down your spine, but not right now. Not today, when you’re angry at him like this.

“Oh, please, do tell,” You grunt, shifting the weight of your body to one leg as you cross your arms. “I’m eager to know why you didn’t show in such an important crime scene, leaving me alone to deal with them.”

Marcus gaped at you for a second and then sighed softly. “I got stuck in the traffic.”

You roll your eyes. “Bullshit. I was miles away and managed to get there before forensics.”

He stared at you for a moment and then sighed. “I don’t know what happened. I’m sorry.”

“Well, let this be the first and last time.” You warned him, pointing a finger to him.

“May I remind you I’m your boss, Agent?” He gives you a teasing smile, leaning back on the chair.

You sigh shaking your head. “Yeah, you seem to forget that sometimes.”

His eyes left yours and you felt a pang of sorrow for him, not knowing exactly why. You and Marcus have always had a love-hate relationship. Even though he's technically your boss, you've always treated him like equal. Yelling at him in front of colleagues wasn't a new thing, and to be honest, he’s already used to it. Shaking your head, you stroll over to the furthest desk and sit down, claiming the spot as yours for the time you stay in L.A.

Marcus Pike is an excellent agent. He’s dedicated and hardworking and a damn good boss. The man was born to lead, the passion he has for his job impresses you. Ever since you’ve joined the squad, you’ve been assigned with him as your partner. Back then, everyone told you how lucky you were to be working beside him. Three years later, you still feel lucky to work to have him as your partner. Just not today.

Needless to say, you have a mild crush on him. When you first met him, your first thought was that he was incredibly handsome. And then you were gradually being acquainted with his work style, with the way he worked hard, so your feelings for him just grew stronger over the time. You’ve become closer him over the course of the years and you know him just as well as he knows you. Which is why you just snapped at him. He’d never allow such thing if any other member of the squad talked to him like you did.

Little do you know that Marcus is harvesting a crush on you too. It’s been a while since the feelings had started to make its way to his heart. He’s not sure when it started, but he knows it’s there. He feels it every time you smile and laugh at one of his jokes. He feels it every time you come up with a lead, every time you arrest a criminal. He feels it when he sees you wearing the FBI jacket, looking so pretty with your hair in a low bun or in a ponytail. Hell, he feels it when you’re mad at him.

Marcus glances at you, from his claimed desk and sees you looking at the computer screen, forehead creased in concentration as you filled in the report from the crime scene. Sighing, he looks back at his own computer, feeling his heart sink. Three years you’ve been working together and not once you showed up with a boyfriend. Claiming your job was more important to you at the moment, you just stated that you have no time for relationships. You want to focus on your career, make a name for yourself.

Which is why you and him would never work.

The clock ticked slowly that morning as you all put the leads together to find out who killed the man of the gang. His name was Liam Dixon and he had a big name in the gang, his picture pinned on the cork board from your office back in New York for months. And now, he just drops dead. During a briefing, someone suggested it might have been an accident, a mugging that went wrong, but you know it’s more than that. Saying that the only thing that has been missing from the body was the ring, you argued that it could be either personal or a gang conflict that went wrong. Marcus agreed with you. The orientation he gave everyone is look into police calls for stolen art recently in L.A. That way, you can all have a hint where the gang is acting.

When lunch time arrives, you sigh as you check your phone and stand from your desk. Organizing your desk, you pick up the post-it notes and empty coffee cups and throw them in the trash, when you see a figure approaching you.

“Let me make it up to you,” Pike says, leaning his hand on your desk. “I know a good place where we can have lunch.”

…

Going on lunch breaks with him isn’t unfamiliar to you, but you’re still upset at him, so you order a salad and eat in silence as he eats his own meal too.

“How was the crime scene?” He tries to make conversation.

“You’d know if you were there.” The words come out too fast from your lips and you quickly shoot him an apologetic look.

“You’re still upset?”

Waving a hand at him, you shook your head. “I’m just being petty.” You swallow your food. “The scene was packed, lot of curious eyes. I got there and the CBI guys were in the scene.”

He nods, considering his next words. “Is Patrick Jane still a part of the CBI team?”

“The consultant?” Your voice gives a hint of surprise. “Yeah, he was there. Kinda weird guy if you ask me.”

Pike laughs softly, shaking his head. “Don’t let your guard down near him. He’ll read you like an open book.”

“What do you mean?” You take a sip of your water, eyeing him.

“He’s… Very observant,” He explains. “He’s good at reading people and he has no filter. If something is bothering you, he will let everyone know.”

“Huh.” You smile. “What a weirdo.”

Silence hangs in the air as you both eat. A comfortable silence, a good one.

“Did you meet Lisbon?” He asks, suddenly.

Frowning at him, you nod, biting a piece of broccoli. “Yeah, do you know her?”

Marcus sighs, drinking the rest of his water. Something in his demeanor tells you he’s… Sad, maybe? His eyelids drop to his plate and his shoulders slump as he hangs his head low. You’ve been coexisting with him long enough to tell he’s not okay. Then, a thought occurs to you.

“She’s the ex, isn’t she?” You ask, quietly. He looks up at her and nods, his expression changing, covering the trace of sadness from his face.

Marcus had told you about an ex who left him for another man during one of your stakeouts together. It broke your heart to know that a man like him, so sweet and hardworking, was left twice by women who didn’t appreciate him. You told him that they it was their loss and, after he laughed at your corny attempt at comforting him, you said that if they didn’t leave him, you’ve had never met him. That night, he looked at you like you were the light of his life. Every time you remember, you feel butterflies on your stomach and smile to yourself.

It was nearly two years ago.

And it’s not like Marcus is not over Lisbon, after all it’s been five years since the breakup. But he’s still not ready to face her. Not again. Not after the last time he saw her with Jane and felt his heart bleed. He just doesn’t want to get hurt again.

“How is–” He clears his throat. “How is she?”

“Fat.” You shake your head, grimacing at him. “Her hair was all over the place, pimples on her skin, bad breath, lettuce on her teeth–”

Marcus lets out a laugh, shaking his head. It’s the kind of laugh that makes him throw his head back and wrinkle the corner of his eyes, and, god, his smile is beautiful. He laughs genuinely and you know that, because you've heard it before. You hear it when you are in stakeouts together and you'd crack a joke he'd really liked. You hear it in birthday parties of the members of the squad, when he’s tipsy and drunk happy. You hear it when you make your snarky remarks at the perks you arrest. You could watch him laugh for hours and you would never get tired of the view, of the sound of it. It makes your stomach churn with pleasure to know that you’re the one who provoked this laugh on him. As he wipes the corners of his eyes, you smile at him, laughing softly.

“Nice try, but–” He laughs. “Thanks.”

You just shrug, shaking your head. “Is that why you didn’t go to the crime scene?”

Pike’s smile fades away and you regret the question when you see the expression he gives you. Something tells you to take it back, to apologize and leave it like that, but if he didn’t want to face her… Then, maybe, he still has feelings for her. And the thought, somehow, hurts you.

“Yeah, I, uh–” He swallows. “I don’t think I’m ready to face her again.”

“Oh.” Is all you say.

After finishing your lunch, you both pay the bill and leave the restaurant. The thick, awkward silence grows heavy between the two of you as you both walk together back to the quarters. You want to speak, but you don’t know how to comfort him, how to make him feel better. And then a different voice calls his name.

“Marcus?”

You both stop walking and turn around. Lisbon and Jane, hands laced together, are staring at the both of you. Marcus’s heart almost stop at the sight, his breath get caught on his throat as he widens his eyes.

“Teresa,” He replies, a surprised tone in his voice, eyeing Jane and nodding at him. “Patrick.”

“I see you kept the, uh–” Jane points at his own face to indicate a beard. “The look.”

Marcus nods at him, but doesn’t respond. You nod shortly at Patrick and glance at Lisbon.

“How– How are you?” She asks, looking right into his eyes. A shot of jealousy hits your heart, and you swallow hard trying to push the feeling away.

“Good,” Marcus answer, smiling. “You?”

“Good.” She smiles at him and you have to look away. Pursing your lips, you discreetly take a deep breath and cross your arms.

This woman had Marcus wrapped around her finger and really discarded him when she decided she didn’t want him. She played with his feelings until she got tired and left, not knowing she had a great man who was in love with her and was willing to do anything for her. She doesn’t know how lucky she was for having him. The anger sets in your chest faster than expected as they make small talk, but you don’t listen to them. You can’t, or you’ll explode with anger. It’s Jane’s voice that pulls you out of you thoughts.

“You’re jealous.” His voice is directed to you and both of them stop talking to look at you.

“What?” You frown in confusion.

“Your lips.” He points to his own lips as he talks. “They’re pursed together. You’re crossing your arms to shield yourself, and you have this… Sour expression on your face.”

Widening your eyes, you look at Pike but he’s just as surprised as you are.

“You have feelings for Agent Pike and you’re jealous that he’s giving attention to his ex girlfriend.” Jane smiled triumphant. You gape, feeling your heart speed, and the heat on your cheeks as you look at him surprised. Lisbon shoots a look at Jane as if she’s saying stop reading people without their permission. Your eyes are focused on the ground, knowing that if you look at Pike, it'll be game over.

"Of course she has feelings for me." Pike laughs softly after a short awkward pause. You shoot a look at him, a frown in your brow, confused as hell. "She's my girlfriend."

A silent pause hangs between all of them. Agent Lisbon frowns deeply, widening her eyes to the both of you. Jane's smile fades away. Pike's smile grows wider. And you… You just look at him in shock, thinking about how quickly he thought of the lie. It's unnecessary to lie, there's no point in telling the CBI that you were together, except–

He wanted to impress Lisbon. Of course.

Trying to conceal your emotions from Jane, cause he'd know if you're lying, you smile at the couple and laugh softly. Marcus approaches you and lays his palm flat on your lower back. A touch that makes you tense and melt at the same time. The warmth of his hand gives you some comfort and, despite everything going on, it's a comfort you needed for a really long time.

"We're trying to keep it a secret, for now." The words roll off easily from your lips and when you see, you're already wrapping an arm around his torso, smiling as brightly as you can. "Because we're coworkers, and we don't know how the squad would react." And then, with a playful tone, you look at Pike. "But someone can't keep his mouth shut."

Marcus laughs, shaking his head. A fake laugh.

"I just can't contain myself." He leans towards you to press his lips on the crown of your head. “I’m too happy with you.”

It shouldn’t make your heart jump, but it does. You look up at him and give him a real smile this time, your eyes softening as a light breath leaves your lips. He looks at you and notices it, slightly tilting his head like a confused puppy, reading your expression too well. Your smile fades for a moment as you look away, but the fake smile returns when you look at Patrick.

“Oh,” He says, looking a little too disappointed.

“We have to go,” You tell them, smiling. “We got a gang to catch.”

As soon as you both are out of their sight, you let go of each other. The walk back to the quarters is silent and awkward and you have to put an effort to not blush the entire way. Pike warned you, the man is good at reading people. And he really has no filter at all. You just hope that your partner thinks Jane is wrong, you can’t afford him knowing about your feelings for him.

When you reach the doors to the quarters, he calls your name, stopping by the steps. Looking back at him, you see him, with his hands on his hips and his eyes on the floor. You swallow, feeling your heart speed up.

“About what Jane said–”

“He was wrong.” You’re quick to interrupt. Marcus’ eyes dart up to you and you have to stop yourself from sighing.

“He’s never wrong.” His voice is soft and there’s a hint of something in his eyes. It’s something sparkly, like– Like hope. You have to look away, pushing the feeling away as you shove your hands in the pockets of your jacket.

“Well, he was,” You tell him, and when he says your first name, “We’re coworkers. Don’t worry, I don’t have feelings for you.”

With that, you turn your back to him and enters the quarters, the lie still burning your throat. Heading straight to the bathroom, you feel your eyes watering. By the time you lock the door, they run down your cheeks and you sob. You didn’t know why it hurt so much to lie to him, but it does.

You’re really into him, aren’t you?

…

Another member of the gang was murdered. Frederick Hale, second to leader of the Crystal Eye, was found dead by gunshot wounds almost in the same street Liam Dixon was found. When you and Pike got the crime scene to identify the body, forensics were almost done with everything.

“That doesn’t make sense,” You say, gripping you tea mug on the table. During the briefing, your brain is working like a machine, trying to figure out why the member of the gang were dropping like flies.

“Could be a coincidence.” Russell suggested, shrugging.

“It could be, but two members in the same day?” You argue.

“It’s not a coincidence,” Pike tells everyone. “Ballistics came through. Liam and Frederick were killed by the same gun.”

It doesn’t surprise you. You knew it was too good to be a coincidence.

“So, someone is definitely taking them out.” You nod.

“Maybe they both fucked up, and the man was mad about it.” Davis shrugs.

“No, it’s not like Yosef,” Pike says, sitting down and crossing his arms. The shirt tightens around his arms and you look away quickly, not letting the horny thoughts distract you from the investigation. “He doesn’t eliminate his members like that.”

“What if someone’s infiltrated in the gang?” You bite your thumbnail, like you always do, a habit Marcus noticed you did in the first week of working with you. You do it when you’re concentrated, thinking of something important.

“Like an informant?” He asks, looking at you. You don’t meet his gaze.

“No, no. Like– Someone who joined it with the specific purpose of killing them?”

“Like an avenger?” Davis scoffs and you shoot an angry look at him.

“Yeah,” Pike says, nodding. “I thought the same thing.”

Finally, finally you look at him. He gives you an assuring look as he's saying I agree with you and I have your back at the same time. That’s a thing you like about him. The way you both communicate without words. You open your mouth to agree, but his phone rings before you make a word out. He picks it up, dismissing you all with a wave of his hand and you sigh, standing up and walking to your desk.

You only get to turn the computer screen before Marcus makes a quick beeline for you and asks if he could talk to you for a moment. Outside. Feeling your stomach churning, you nod, knowing something is wrong. Following him to the back patio of the building, you take a couple of deep breaths, preparing yourself for whatever is coming. When you both are in a safe distance from the other members of the squad, he turns to you and sighs.

“That was Jane on the phone.” He explains, quickly.

A frown is on your forehead. “Jane? Patrick Jane?”

“Yeah.” He breathes, wetting his lips with his tongue and exhaling softly. “He invited us to a double date.”

A laugh escapes your lips and you smile, thinking it’s a joke. “A double date with who?”

His face is serious when he answers. “You and me, him and Teresa.”

The smile falls from your face and you tilt your head, knowing there’s more to it. “And you said no, right?”

Marcus’ gaze is on the floor as he avoids the question by staying in silence.

“Pike.” You insist. “Tell me you said no.” No answer. “Please, tell you said we’re going to be busy or that we had plans already.

You wait for his answer until he finally looks at you again. “I said yes.”

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you close your eyes and sigh deeply. Marcus bites his bottom lip, eagerly waiting for an answer, leg bouncing in anxiety.

“Why?” You ask, eyes still closed.

“I-I– I just–”

“Is this about Teresa?” You interrupt him before he could think of what to say. “Is this you trying to prove a point to her?”

“No!” He answers too quickly and you narrow your eyes at him. “Y-you know I can’t lie to Jane, he’ll know if I do!”

“Not even on the phone?!” You argue.

“Trust me, he’d know.”

Looking away, you sigh, crossing your arms. Marcus knows he’s putting you in a difficult position and the truth is that he doesn’t actually know why he said yes to the date. Maybe he just wishes he could go out with you and, knowing you would refuse his invitation if it was a normal situation, he accepted to continue to lie to Teresa and Patrick just to go out with you.

“Fine.” You finally answer. “When?”

“Tonight, eight o’clock.”

Sighing, once more, you nod. “Okay. But his ends tonight. No more lies. We’re here to work.”

He raises his hands in defense. “I promise, boss.”

“Fuck.” You mumble, walking away from him and ignoring the teasing nickname,

This is bullshit.

 …

Why this had to happen?

You look at yourself in the mirror for the hundredth time. The hotel room is a mess, clothes all scattered around the floor and bed. You didn’t bring any date clothes. Not even a casual dress. Not even a formal dress. You weren’t counting on going on a fucking date with a fake boyfriend.

The only formal set of clothes you bring is a plaid gray skirt, with length just above the knees, and a blazer in the same color and pattern. You put it in your suitcase just in case you’d have to attend an audience or be in the presence of a judge. Pairing it with a long sleeved black shirt and a pair of your usual office heels – black stiletto heels with a pointed toe – you decided this is the outfit.

Many times you imagined what your first date with Marcus would be. Your imagination liked to go far, from movie dates to fancy dinners, after all, it doesn’t hurt to think, right? But you never, ever imagined it would be like this. Faking a relationship to impress his ex. It kinda hurts, you realize, being a pawn to his game. But, deep down, you were dying for an excuse to go out with him. Even if it might be unprofessional. You just wish it would be you and him only.

A soft knock on your door announces he’s ready. You check your makeup and adjust your hair quickly, before walking to the door. You open it to a see a very handsome Marcus Pike standing at your door. He’s wearing a black suit and tie, like he usually does at work, but something is different. He’s neater, his hair is combed in place and his beard is trimmed and… Is he wearing cologne? The smell invades your nostrils and intoxicates you quickly, in a good way.

“Should I have shaved?” He asks, when you don’t speak. You blink, returning to the real world.

“No.” You shake your head, smiling. “You look– You look great.”

A shy smile curves the corners of his lips. “You too.”

You wave a hand at him, grabbing your clutch bag and closing the door behind you.

“I didn’t bring anything fancy, so…” You try to explain yourself.

“No, no, you look–” He hesitates. “You look beautiful.”

Feeling your cheeks warm, you look away from him, clearing your throat. Marcus is still amazed by you, looking so different tonight. Your hair is down and he fights the urge to run his fingers through it. In the three years he’s known you, he tries to think when he ever saw you with your hair down and he can’t. This might be the first time.

“Shall we?” You pull him out of his thoughts. He nods, and offers his arm for you to hook yours in it. You feel nervous, but for some reason, there’s a good feeling settled in your stomach.

Soft classical music reaches your ears as you enter the fancy restaurant, Marcus following right behind you, his hand hovering your lower back. As soon as you enter, a receptionist smiles and asks for your names.

“Yeah, we’re under the name Jane,” Marcus says, nodding once at her. She checks a list and tells you both to follow her.

She guides you both to an empty table and, for a moment, you think maybe they’re late, until you realize it’s a table for two. Your stomach drops and you swallow, frowning confused at the lady. Marcus laughs softly and shakes his head.

“No, there must be a mistake,” He says.

The receptionist frowns and checks the list again. “It says here you’ve reserved a table for two, Mister Jane.”

Marcus gapes at her as she walks away leaving you two behind. A waiter is politely waiting for you both to sit down at the table to hand you the menu, but you just look at each other, mouths hanged open.

“Maybe–” You say, swallowing hard. “Maybe we’re at the wrong restaurant.”

“No, he did this.” He whispers to you as you look at him, confused. “He set us up.”

A scoff leaves his throat as you look at him, pale and shaking. Does that mean you’re on an actual date… With Marcus Pike?

“What do we do now?” You ask, holding your clutch bag tightly with your hands.

“Well, we have two options. We can leave, and that’s okay if you want to.” He looks you in the eyes, leaning slightly towards you in honesty. “Or we can have dinner.”

The look you give him is one he can decipher. He can’t tell if you’re offended by the proposition or just thinking about it. Deep down he’s hoping you say yes, hoping you’d have dinner with him, just you and him. Then, a shy smile curves the corners of your lips and you shrug.

“Okay,” You tell him. “Since I’ve put on makeup and got all dressed up.”

He smiles at you and walks to the table to pull the chair for you to sit on. As the waiter hands you the menu and Marcus sits down in front of you, you try to calm down your nerves and try not to think you’re in an actual date with Agent Pike aka your boss. You order white wine and him Whiskey. After the waiter leaves, a moment of silence hangs between the both of you until you laugh nervously.

“I gotta admit,” You say, laughing. “Going on a date with my boss is kinda… Weird.”

Marcus stares at you for a few seconds and you wonder if saying the d-word was a bad move. But then he smiles, looking down at the menu and shaking his head.

“Just… Don’t think of me as Agent Pike. Tonight I’m just Marcus.”

“Marcus.” You repeat his name and nod. “Okay, Marcus… So what do you do for fun?”

Marcus breath almost hitches at the way you say his name and he imagines a thousand scenarios where you say his name like that. He clears his throat and swallows, closing the menu and looking at you.

“You know, the usual,” He answers. “Drink beer, watch TV.”

You smile, raising your eyebrows. “That’s all?” You tease. “You’re going to tell me Agent Marcus Pike doesn’t have a hobby?”

“C’mon.” He laughs. “You know which are my hobbies. You’ve known me for years.”

“Hmm, yes.” You smile. “But you said you’re Marcus tonight and I’m just trying to get to know you.”

Marcus looked at you with warmth in his eyes. A certain look that makes your stomach churn in pleasure, your heart speed and your cheeks warm. It’s something different. Perhaps the first time you look at his eyes like this in three years of knowing him.

“Alright,” He finally says. “My hobbies include watching TV, cooking and martial arts.”

A frown grows between your brows as you look at him surprised. “Cooking? I didn’t know that.”

“Yeah, well, I decided to give it a try last month.” He shrugs and waits for the waiter to serve their drink before continuing talking. “I keep burning water, I don’t know why I even try.”

A laugh escapes your lips. A genuine laugh. “That bad, huh?” You take a sip of the wine as you watch him nod. “You just practice. I can teach you some recipes if you want. My mom tells me I’m an excellent cook.”

“Yeah, maybe you should.” He gives you that look again and you clear your throat, playing with the stem of your glass of wine. Marcus’ fingers slowly approach yours, barely grazing at your skin before pulling away at the sound of the waiter’s voice asking if you were ready to order.

Marcus orders the special stake and you the mushroom cream soup. The food is good, tasty, but you really wished you could have something simpler. You didn’t mind, as long as you’re with him. The night goes by with laughter, talk about your personal lives and stolen looks from each other. By dessert, you both were buzzed off by the alcohol and kept laughing at everything.

“Wait, you threw up on her?” You ask, a wide smile on your face as Marcus tells you a story about his very first date, where he got too drunk and everything went wrong.

“On her shoes!” He replies, burying his face on his hands.

“Oh my god!” You put a hand on your mouth to muffle a laugh.

“I was seventeen, okay?” He argues, laughing too.

Wiping a tear from the corner of your eyes, you sigh, feeling your face warm. You both fall into a comfortable silence as Marcus reaches for your hands on the table. Your fingers touch his and you feel the warmth of his body sending shivers down your spine. You realize you want to hold his hand forever, the feeling of his rough palm on yours is comforting to you.

“I’m having a great time.” He confesses, a closed-lipped smile on his face. An involuntary smile curves your lips too, letting the feeling take over you.

“Me too.” Your voice is small, shy. “It’s been a while.”

“Yeah.” He agrees and fall in silence again.

Suddenly, an urge to tell him how you feel hits you. It may be the alcohol, but you can’t shake off the thoughts of confessing your feelings to him from your mind. You shouldn’t do it, not even your drunk self knows it. But the pain of yearning for a man, a good man, and not being reciprocated hits you and you don’t like the feeling.

“It’s getting late.” You whisper instead and he nods, asking for the check. He insists on paying, despite your protests.

The cab ride back to the hotel is silent and he’s not touching you anymore, but you wished he was. You wished he reached out for your hand, laced them together and pressed his lips on your skin. You wished this night never ended, you wished you would never let him go. The buzz of the alcohol is already faded when you both arrive at your hotel room, pulling the keycard from your wallet. Marcus walks with you and you look at him, smiling.

“So that was fun,” You say, biting your bottom lip.

“It was.” He smiles back. “We should do it again some time.”

Your heart skips a beat at small offer and all you can do is nod and smile. God, you really want to kiss him. You really want to kiss that stupid face, wipe off that stupid grin and pull him to your room. Licking your lips, your eyes set on his and he seems to notice because he licks his own lips, making your breath hitch.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” He says, looking right into your eyes.

And you should say no. You should draw the line, tell him you work together and that would be inappropriate. But instead you say,

“Okay.”

And then his lips gently press into yours as you close your eyes. The air escapes from your lungs as you reach for his neck, pulling him closer, his own hands cup your cheeks, kissing you tenderly. It feels amazing. The sensations his lips give you are beyond your imagination. As you open your mouth, allowing him you slip his tongue in, you sigh, deepening the kiss and tugging at his hair.

Then, you sober up. You pull away too quickly and wide your eyes, the blood draining from your face and your throat closing at the realization you just kissed your fucking boss.

“Shit,” You mumble, backing up. Marcus calls your name softly.

“It’s okay–”

“No.” You interrupt him. “You’re my boss, we work together.” You exhale sharply. “We can’t.”

“Sweetheart–”

“Don’t.” You raise a finger to him. “Please– Just don’t.”

Fumbling with the keycard you enter your room without giving him a chance to speak. The place it’s still a mess from your private fashion show, but you don’t care. Tears spill from your eyes as you remove your shoes and your clothes, not bothering to putting on pajamas or organizing the room before burying yourself under the covers.

Well, now, you’re really fucked.

_

tags: @madadlorian​ @xo-dragonette-xo​ @rosetophighlander​ @adikaofmandalore​ @pedropascalito​ @fioccodineveautunnale​ @burningsoulbloodyheart​ 

let me know if you want to be tagged in part ii!

[sociallychallengedbookworm]

Trigger Warning: Mental Illness

Okay this is a really long one, but I found these papers where I was writing down my feelings and I think it was leading up to me making a suicide note or this was going to be mine. But, things have gotten better and I’m going to post what I wrote in the hopes to encourage others that things can get better. This was made in September of 2017, when I was in the darkest point of my Depression. When I actually attempted about a month later to commit suicide/was going to. (i got distracted by youtubers: Dan and Phil cuz I had them on the background cried myself to sleep on the bed.) Dan released “Daniel and Depression” Soon after and it helped to encourage me a little that I wasn’t alone. Anyways. This letter was my darkest point and I wanted to share it since I’ve gotten /mostly/ better in terms of depression and suicidal thoughts. Here it goes, brace yourselves.. its long. (I’m gonna make up names for the people I mentioned in it to conceal Identities)

“I’m getting bad again, like really bad. It was all state auditions today and I bet I flunked site reading portion. I wont make it to all state again and its been a spiral downhill ever since. I know I have failed. I see myself in the mirror and all I see is someone that I hate. I hate the way I look the way fat clings to my stomach. I’m not skinny enough. I’m not good enough and I try so hard to be happy and it never works. I ruin everything. I’m too quiet, too awkward. I fail at everything that I strive for. I’m not smart enough. i’m too lazy. I’m too ugly. I’m not perfect enough. Why am I nor normal? Why can’t I walk into a room and not feel so trapped. Why is it that everytime someone I don’t know tried to talk to me, I get flustered. I can’t breathe, I get nauseous. Social Anxiety? Why can’t I pick up on social cues? Why do I feel the need to flinch away from people? I’m not good enough I’m fucked up. I’m the person who isn’t interesting. I’m the person in the background. I’m here but I have no purpose. What is the point? I know I am loved. I have friends and family that care and that’s why I’m still here. I get cut off in conversation, I am boring and uninteresting. I have no purpose. I can’t meet new people, I can’t show emotion round other and I can’t cry and I can’t let them see. I don’t want to bring anyone into this. I used to cut but not often, I quit. That was a year ago and its worse. I want to rip into my skin and see the blood. I have never cut this much. I don’t know if things are going to get better. Why would they? I can’t make myself happy. It doesn’t really work. My friends’ happiness makes me happy and Id rather see them that way/ I know I’d want my friends to tell if things were this bad? But, I can’t do it. It’s too much It’s overwhelming. Talking to a therapist doesn’t help, it makes me feel like I’m drowning. I feel nothing and everything at all. My problems don’t matter. Hell, what if I’m making all this up? What if it’s just all in my head? Is dying really that bad? I mean, I can’t get the image of my parents finding my body, or my niece living her life without me. What’s on the other side? is it nothing? Is dying painful? Is it less painful than how I feel now? I used to love hugs but now I shy away from any touch. Why can’t I remember being genuinely happy? What is wrong with me? I want to die. I really want to. Maybe I should get help? I don’t want others to know. There’s a lot they don’t know. Why have I changed so much? I need a sharper knife . I’m not normal.

A lot of people would argue that I’m not worthless. I guess its one of those thingswhere you’re your own worst enemy. I’m drowning, in school.. in stress. In my social life. I always struggle in everything. It takes too long for me to warm up to someone. I’m too awkward. I don’t achieve anything that I strive for. I’m losing interest in everything. I want to disappear, but I don’t want to hurt anyone. If I died, how would people at school react? Would they be sad? My friends would. I know they’d go through hell and blame themselves. They’d be mad at me. My family would be devastated. I can’t do that to my sister. What about people I don’t know. People who were there but not. People who saw me in the hallways. What would they say? Would they talk about how sad it was, how they thought I was cool and wished they could have done something? They’d be lying. I’m still here and I am so fucking numb and no one notices a damn thing. They don’t see the way I hide. They’re blind. They’d maybe come to the funeral. They’d talk about how they never knew I was hurting. It was plain as day. How could you not see ? Oh, i’m nice, not nice enough for you to talk to. I talk about being dead inside and I’m not joking. I’m not trying to fit into some “Emo” Aesthetic. Yes, I wear black and all that. But. It’s not like that. I’m not in some huge phase where “Oh life sucks”. I’m struggling/ I’m dropping hints. Help me. I don’t know what to do. Help me before I go too far. I don’t see myself graduating high school, I don’t see myself achieving college goals. and being happy. I don’t see myself having kids. I don’t think I’m going to live much longer. I dont know. Maybe one day I’ll snap and just down a bottle of pills and this will be the only remnants of a note. I’ll chicken out if I actually write a suicide note. What would my internet friends do? How would they find out? I’m sorry. I’m too damaged. I don’t know if it was because of what *name* did. Or how *other name* used me. Maybe it is because *ex boyfriend name* and what they did to me. Why am I still waiting. Why am I never good enough? Why am I so fucking broken? I’m so stupid. Maybe I just don’t deserve to be happy. Maybe if I die, things will get better. I failed everyone. And its not just cuz of my trigger at all state. I tried so hard and I let everyone down. They were counting on me. Am I ever going to be okay? I know I have people who care about me. I know that they would help me. I’m scared. I don’t like being the broken girl. I don’t want to be viewed that way. I don’t want to be constantly greeted with worried glances. I don’t want to hear “How long have you been clean” I just want it all to go away.

How could I tell anyone? My parents will probably brush it off with “Pfft but you smile all the time and you have plenty of friends, you just want attention” I actually hate attention, hate being looked at like I’m some kind of freak. They don’t have the thoughts that I have, They don’t go through every day screaming at themselves and scratching at their sleeves to get the thoughts to stop. They don’t feel the pain. To them I’m just some whiny little 16 year old. Pft hormones or whatever. Maybe it is. Maybe I;m making it up. What’s even the point. Could the school counselor help me? Maybe I should stop trying.

(In really dark and angry letters that are hard to read at the bottom it says: “I’m just a disappointment”

I realize this was really long and I appreciate it if you read it to the end. I look at this and I see recovery. I haven’t fallen into a hole this deep in such a long time and a lot of this I can now look back at and look at my life now and say that it isn’t true. I may have not gotten help professionally, but I reached out to a friend of mine who did everything in his power to talk me down and keep me safe, And I have done the same to him. I just hope that by reading this someone can find some kind of.. help? They can look at this and look at the progress and maybe they can do the same. I also would love to spread awareness. THIS is how BAD depression can get. THESE are the things that run through our heads and NO ONE notices. WE ARE ALONE. It isn’t some made up thing. We aren’t asking for attention. We want help. We want out of this fucking hell before it’s too late. Please. Help us. Look at the signs, check in on your loved ones. We might need it. I’ve talked my best friend out of suicide before and he’s getting help right now and I’m so proud of him. Recovery is possible. Just please, if you need help. seek it.. and if you don’t and you know someone who does.. please do whatever you can.

Not trying to push anyone, but by reblogging this you could potentially help someone, so please I encourage you to do so. Share this story. Do anything you can. Please. 

[glowingjunmyeon]

Lost & Found (an EXO fanfic) - ch.21

Idol!AU

Pairing: Xiumin x Reader

Warning: Language

Status: Ongoing

Summary: Marion’s life was going perfectly well before it had fell apart. She had moved out from her family’s house to New York City almost a year ago to attend her dream college. She had gotten a small job and had a great group of friends to keep her happy. Then everything went downhill the moment she found out that her father had died. What made it worse was the fact that her father’s bank account was mysteriously empty, leaving her and her family completely broke. Marion suddenly didn’t have any time to go to college anymore or even grieve her father’s death as she thrown into working multiple jobs to support her family. Her happy college days were gone, instead replaced with working at a Chicken restaurant during the day and serving people drinks at a bar by night. It wasn’t until a rather handsome man walks through the Bar doors that lightens things up in her life. He’s attractive, charming and likable-everything a girl would want in a man-until he does something that leaves her never wanting to see him again…but he still wants to see her.

Sometimes you live with memories that you wish you could forget, but not always regret.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19 | Chapter 20 | Chapter 21 | Chapter 22 | Chapter 23

Marion was leaning against the front counter of the Chirping Chicken, watching Darius-the new dirty blonde, dark blue eyed high school senior that was hired since Mike had resigned. She scowled when she saw him making a group of teenage girls laugh as he took their order. She had heard him talking sweetly to a girl on the phone during his lunch break-so seeing him flirt and flash smiles at girls in the restaurant was downright disappointing. “I’m so glad high school is over.” Marion mumbled. “Everyone is so immature that it’s embarrassing.”

Jasmine-who had been talking beside her-frowned, “Hello! Marion are you even listening to me?”

Marion looked over at Jasmine blankly, “No-sorry-I zoned out.” She said, apologetically.

Jasmine rolled her eyes before her phone started ringing in her apron pocket. Marion watched Jasmine glance down at the caller ID before shutting it off.

Marion saw Jasmine’s dull expression before stating, “Javier.”

Jasmine reached her hands to readjust her brown haired bun. “Yep.”

Marion frowned, “Didn’t you guys break up though?”

Jasmine looked exasperated, “Yes! Yes, we did! I don’t know what he wants this time!”

Marion made a face, before turning to look at Darius-who was still chatting with the girls, “Why are men so problematic?”

Jasmine shook her head, speaking wistfully, “I wish I fucking knew, bro.”

Marion suddenly furrowed her brows and looked at her, “You know-Minseok is actually….is actually acting weird with me. It’s so…I’m not used it-and I never thought that would happen to us. I don’t know what to think about it.”

Jasmine snapped her fingers, “Oh yeah! So did he tell you?”

Marion looked at her, “Tell me what?”

Jasmine spoke nonchalantly with a raised brow, “About how they are all moving back to South Korea next week?”

“WHAT?!”

Jasmine blinked, “Oh honey, no wonder he’s acting weird.”

To say that Marion was mad would be an understatement.

She was furious.

Even more so because of the fact that Minseok wasn’t answering any of her several calls. She was sitting on the couch, her arms crossed as she stared at her phone resting on the coffee table before her. She stared at a few moments longer before standing up and shutting off the TV. There was no use of trying to distract herself when everything she was feeling was still taking up her mind.

Suddenly the doorbell rang and she ran over, swinging the door open wide. “You-“she quickly cut herself off when she realized that it wasn’t Minseok at the door. Instead she was greeted with two angry looking, black clad, muscular thugs holding her Uncle Calvin by each arm. Except Uncle Calvin wasn’t normal, his eyes were wide with fear and his nose and shirt were covered in blood. Marion gasped.

One of them spoke, his voice gruff and laced with annoyance, “You his niece?”

Marion looked at Uncle Calvin-his eyes were lolling and it looked as if it was hard for him to even be standing. “What the hell did you do to him?” she whispered.

The thug shoved him towards her and she staggered back as she caught him in her arms.

The thug pointed at her, his voice firm and dangerous, “Tell em’ not to pay up fucking late next time.”

The second man chuckled, his blue eyes running down her body. “Bye…sweetie.”

Marion slammed the door shut before placing her Uncle down on the couch. She stepped back from him, looking down at her shirt-which was now painted in red. She saw her Uncle’s eyes flutter as he slumped down on her couch.

“What the hell did you do!?!” Marion almost screamed.

Uncle Calvin tried to sit up but then-suddenly-smiled, “I did exactly what he said. I paid me dues late.” He chuckled.

Marion stared at him, disgusted, “Why the hell did you join a fucking gang?”

Uncle Calvin laughed, throwing his head as he did so.

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING IN THE CITY?!” she yelled.

That seemed to get his attention. His eyes snapped back on hers.

His voice came out surprisingly clear, “I had to meet our gang leader. I was late so he did what he had to do.” He smiled, “At least he didn’t kill me.”

Marion looked at him, her face frowning in disgust, “He should’ve.”

Uncle Calvin glared, “Honey, you better watch your mouth or I-I-“ He slurred off.

“You’ll what? You’ll WHAT?!” she yelled.

Uncle Calvin suddenly sat up, his glaring intensified, “You hate me so much, huh? Suppose that’s right after all I done to your family-“

“Hell-fucking-yeah!” she said, before leaning close to him while pointing her finger at his chest, “There is absolutely no reason for me to help you. NO REASON!”

“I’m your family.” He said, before laughing in her face. And that was when she smelled the alcohol from his breath.

“Fuck you.” She said, staring at him with pure disgust before walking to her kitchen to find her first aid kit.

“Remember when your Daddy went on that business trip of his? He was tryna buy another grocery store some place or whatever be-before he got himself killed in a car crash?”

She tried to ignore him as she fumbled through opening her kitchen cabinets randomly. Where the hell is the First Aid Kit? She thought with a frown.

Calvin laughed, “Well-I was there with your Mom, you know? The day I found out he died I went to your Mom. She was a fucking mess, I’ll tell ya. She was sobbing all over the damn place-I tried to take care of her. I did. But how can someone who don’t even know how to care of emself’ take care of his sister?”

He laughed as if that was especially funny.

“Anyway, anyway-while ya mom was sobbing all over the damn place. I tried to keep her house in order, feed the boys, clean the house, collect the mail…I collected the mail, you see…Then there was this one especially interesting letter…letter from the bank, you see.”

Marion suddenly froze.

“And I took it home…and I opened it. It was from the bank tellin’ yo Mom that she had to sign few of these papers to receive your daddy’s life insurance and savings money get transferred to her account.”

He whistled, “And boyyyy, was it a good amount of money. And I did what the hell I had to do.”

Marion stood up, “What did you do?”

“I blasted from ya Mom’s house and went to the bank-I transferred all that fucking money to my account, baby.” He said, with a relieved smile.

Marion was frozen.

He waved his hand casually, “I had to plagiarize ya Mom’s signature here and there. Cause ya Mom had to sign saying she wanted me to have it for me to get it. Whatever-I owe people a lot of money, ya see? I paid em all back…but I paid em all back too late. They was mad…OoohhH they was mad.” He shook his head, sadly.

Suddenly her Uncle ran his hand over his face, looking down at his hand as the blood from his nose ran onto it, “Fucking bitch clocked me on the nose.” He mumbled.

Marion’s knees felt weak. She reached her hand out on the counter to hold herself up, “How could you?” she didn’t realize she was shaking. “HOW COULD YOU?!”

Her Uncle suddenly stood up, shaking his head, “No-no-don’t hurt me please-please.”

Marion tried to take a step forward but ended up stumbling and falling to her knees. She clutched her face in her hands and broke down. Her shoulders shook as she gritted her teeth and sobbed. Anger, mixed with sadness and frustration spilled down her cheeks in the form of tears.

She heard the front door slam shut and didn’t have to look up at know that her Uncle had left.

She removed her hands from her face to yell after him, “HOW COULD YOUUUUUUU!”

She covered her face again, before curling in on herself on the floor. She cried and cried until she felt hollow.

She

cried

and

cried

until

it

didn’t

hurt.

Minseok slipped the key inside and unlocked her apartment door. He stepped inside, closing the door behind him as he saw her sitting beside the kitchen counter on a stool. Her back was faced to him.

Minseok walked towards her, “Mar, you called me so many times-did you forget that I told you that I was going have a busy today? I turn my phone off when I’m in the studio.“

“You didn’t tell me you were moving back to Korea.”

He closed his eyes and sighed, “I was planning to-”

She turned around, “There is a difference between planning to and actually doing it.”

Minseok opened his eyes and was stunned when he saw her. Her eyes were rimmed with red and her undereyes were puffy. Her lips looked swollen from gnawing at them too much-it was a habit of hers he noticed that she did whenever she was anxious. This couldn’t possibly be because he was leaving.

“Marion-what happened?” he asked, his eyes searching hers.

She shook her head, “It doesn’t matter what happened to me. If you can’t even tell me something as big as you leaving you clearly don’t care enough about me.”

Minseok then noticed that all of her kitchen cabinets were open and that there was blood on her shirt.

He stepped towards her, “Marion-what the hell happened?”

She stood up, shoving him back. “Stop changing the subject!”

He pointed at her shirt, “Why the hell is there blood on your shirt?”

She scoffed, “It’s not mine-Tell me, how long did you know? How long did you know that you were going to leave?!”

He ran a hand through his hair, flustered, “I-I knew since the moment I came here that I was going to leave. Our management only gave us a couple months to make our own album. It was supposed to be trip.”

She smiled a painfully tight smile, “Is that what I was too? A trip?”

“NO-No!” he said, his dark eyes intent, “I was just-“

She suddenly shrugged, “It doesn’t matter.”

Minseok froze, raising a brow, “What?”

“It doesn’t matter because you’re not leaving.”

Minseok shook his head, speaking slowly, “I have to leave.”

The look in her eyes was suddenly desperate as she took a step towards him. “You can’t. Anything could happen to you and I-I won’t be there to…I won’t be there.”

Minseok hated the feeling that was plummeting through his stomach at her eyes, “Marion-I-“his voice broke.

He looked away from her, his voice firm, “I’m in a contract. I can’t break it.”

Marion’s voice was quiet, “You can’t leave me.”

Minseok looked at her-the intensity of her dark eyes holding his gaze. “I don’t want to.”

He took a step towards her, slipping his hand onto the side of her face, “I’ll come back.”

She placed her hand over his, closing her eyes as she let herself feel the warmth of his hand against her face. “When?” she whispered.

He closed his eyes, leaning his forehead against hers, “I-I don’t know. But I know I’ll be back. I come back for you.”

She shook her head, pulling his hand away from her face and stepping back. “No-I can’t do this.”

He looked at her, “Do what?”

“I can’t do a long-distance relationship. Long-distance never works out.” She said, while running her hands through her hair.

He took a step towards her. “We’ll make it work. I can call-“

She shook her head, stepping back from him, “No-no, I can’t-it’s not going to work.”

He moved to take another step towards her but she held her hand out.

“We can-“ He spoke, his desperate and wanting.

She interrupted, “I don’t want to do long-distance.”

He looked at her intensely, “Why?”

“Why can’t you choose me over your contract?” she asked.

Minseok looked at her for a moment before shaking his head, “Don’t put me in that position, Marion.” he said, quietly.

“Exactly-so don’t put me in the position of doing something I don’t want to do.” She said, her voice firm but broken.

He looked at her-his eyes hurt, “But why?”

“Because long-distance never works out, Minseok!” she yelled.

His eyes were suddenly demanding, intense, “How can you say that about something you haven’t even tried yet?!”

She shook her head, stepping away from him. “No.” she said, quietly, “I can’t do it.”

“Mar-“

“It doesn’t matter! We’re fucked anyway!” she suddenly yelled.

He looked at her, his dark eyes hard, “How are we fucked?”

She laughed, dryly-in the way he hated the most. “Are you really asking? You can’t choose me over a contract and I’m not willing to try long-distance because-because I can’t stand not seeing you every day and I’d rather not have that anxiety of thinking about you all the time…I know how I am, Minseok. I won’t be able to handle it.”

He shook his head, “You’ll get-“

“We’re over.” She said, abruptly.

He looked at her, taken aback. “No, Mar-you can’t-“

She shook her head, “Don’t you see it-it doesn’t even matter if I say it. We already are.”

“No, we’re not!” He said, helplessly. “This isn’t it!”

Marion shook her head, stepping further away from him into the kitchen.

When he moved to try follow her, he noticed the half-empty beer bottle on the counter. “Mar, you’re drunk. You don’t mean it.”

She shook her head, looking at him across the counter. “I’m not drunk.”

He leaned across the counter, his voice soft and unwilling, “You are.”

Tears threatened to spill out of her eyes, “I’m not. I’m serious. You’ll realize that I’m serious about this when I say the same thing tomorrow.“

“No! You’re drunk! You don’t mean anything you say right now!” He yelled, moving himself to walk around the counter to her.

She suddenly held up her phone, “Don’t come any closer! I’ll call the cops-I swear it.”

Minseok stopped, his eyes hurt. “Marion.” He pleaded.

“Go.” She closed her eyes and tried to even out her voice.

“Marion, please.”

“Just. Go.” She said, her voice cold.

“Mars.” He said, quietly-insistently.

“Go.” Her voice sharper than ice.

She felt him move slowly before hearing the door slam shut. He left.

[suicidesquadgirl13]

Day 5: Kirishima’s Birthday

Forgive fandom for I have sinned (not really) I am I sinner today. @trifiesta and @regifa. Enjoy the NSFW birthday fic. Warning lots of smut.

-

“You need my advice for what?” Takano said looking to his friend with a slightly bewildered expression.

“A birthday gift for Kirishima,” Yokozawa repeated taking a drag of his cigarette.

“Don’t you and his daughter just spent the day with him?” Takano asked, “Being domestic and all that shit.”

“Yes, but this year Hiyo has a previous engagement with her grandparents and won’t be able to spend time with him on his birthday this year,” Yokozawa said.

“Then why are you asking me for gift id…oh…” Takano trailed off realizing why Yokozawa was asking him “Huh, I honestly never thought you’d be into that stuff.”

“I’m not!” Yokozawa replied indignantly “It’s just…I want to try…something new…”

“Well, only one idea comes to mind,” Takano said before giving Yokozawa a smirk.

“I don’t like the way you're staring at me,” Yokozawa said feeling uneasy.

-

“I’m not coming out!” Yokozawa exclaimed from Takano’s bathroom.

“Come on,” Takano gave an exasperated sigh “I need to see you in it.”

“I look ridiculous Masamune!” Yokozawa shot back.

“Need I remind you, you asked for my help,” Takano said, “Now come on out.”

Yokozawa was quiet for a few moments. “Promise you won’t take any pictures.”

“I promise,” Takano assured his friend.

Yokozawa stepped out of the bathroom in the costume Takano picked out for him. “It’s tight around the chest and waist…”

“You’re supposed to have the front open,” Takano said fixing the front before stepping back “It’s supposed to be tight, your showing off remember.”

“This looks so strange on me,” Yokozawa said inspecting himself in the mirror.

“You look so awkward in it,” Takano grimaced looking his best friend over “You can pull off the look, but you need to swallow your pride and embarrassment. Try acting confident in it.”

The death glare Yokozawa gives him could kill him and half of Marukawa. Takano raised an eyebrow. “You know I’m right.”

Yokozawa sighs. “Fine…I’ll practice…”

“I know you’re a good actor, you are after all a salesman,” Takano said receiving another glare “But this need to be the best damn perform of your life.”

“This better be worth it,” Yokozawa mumbled to himself.

-

Kirishima woke up to the smell of pancakes wafting into his bedroom, he stretched himself out noticing Yokozawa wasn’t next to him. He must be in the kitchen, Kirishima thought to himself. He was a little disappointed that Hiyo couldn’t be with him on his birthday but at least he still had Yokozawa, and even he turned down his Tsundere-ness on his birthday. Kirishima threw on a t-shirt and some sweatpants before making his way to the kitchen.

“Good morning Yoko- “Kirishima then stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Yokozawa.

Yokozawa then turned around with an uncharacteristic smile on his face. “Good morning Zen. Happy Birthday.”

Kirishima blinked before rubbing his eyes and blinking again. Yokozawa was standing in his kitchen in a French maid outfit, complete with thigh high black stockings on his shapely legs, a black choker and a black headband with lacy white frills. The top part was open in a slight V to show off some of his chest, Kirishima’s jaw went slack for a moment before he was brought back to reality by Yokozawa saying “Enjoying the view?”

“Am I dreaming?” Kirishima asked still staring before he realized he was getting a half chub just staring at his lover.

“No, this is very real,” Yokozawa said still smiling at him, “I thought since Hiyo isn’t going to be home until Monday, I’d improvise on your birthday gift this year.”

“Huh…” was all that came out of Kirishima’s mouth, he was practically salivating at the way Yokozawa was dressed.

“Now go relax for a bit breakfast is almost ready,” Yokozawa said sweetly before handing Kirishima a glass “I made you a mimosa.”

Kirishima took the glass with shaking hands. “Who are you and what have you done with Yokozawa?”

Yokozawa just smirked at him and shooed him to the living room. Yokozawa felt Kirishima’s eyes on him as he set the table, but he kept a sickly-sweet attitude and tone, even giving Kirishima a little show before he walked over and bowed deeply. “Zen, breakfast is ready.”

“Are you going to use my first name all day?” Kirishima asked.

“Would you prefer I call you Master or something to that effect?” Yokozawa asked.

Kirishima swore he could have came in his underwear right then and there. “No, Zen is fine.” He practically squeaked as he got up from the couch. Yokozawa pulled out his hair for him before stilling down himself and eating. Kirishima just stared at Yokozawa the entire time, trying to keep a level head so he didn’t get a raging hard on. Yokozawa on the other hand to fighting every instinct he had to drop the maid act and return to normal, but he promised himself to swallow his pride and embarrassment for one day and keep up the act. It helped that Kirishima’s reactions were priceless. When Kirishima finally finished what was on his plate Yokozawa got up and said in the sweetest voice. “I’ll get that, why don’t you relax while I clean up.”

“Ok…” Kirishima said staring at Yokozawa’s back as he gathers the dirty dishes and started washing them in the sink. At one point Kirishima went into the kitchen to grab a beer when he caught a whiff of Yokozawa’s scent. He smelled unusually feminine…like peaches, Kirishima was then aware of how close he was to Yokozawa who had subtlety taken his hands out the water and dried them in a towel nearby before turning around a kissing Kirishima.

“You're hard,” Yokozawa stated.

Kirishima then looked down to see he was practically pitching a tent. Yokozawa then sensual touched Kirishima’s shoulders before slowing moving down his chest. Kirishima was then aware that Yokozawa was on his knees in front of him.

“Y-Yokozawa…” Kirishima stuttered his eyes widening.

“Don’t worry Zen,” Yokozawa said in a tone laced with honey “I’ll take care of it, it is your birthday after all.”

Kirishima was then speechless as he watches Yokozawa pull down the waistband to his pant along with his underwear and proceeded to give him the best blowjob he’s ever had in his lifetime. Yokozawa head skillfully bobbed up and down, while his tongue worked wonders around the head of Kirishima’s cock.

“Oh…shit…Yokozawa I…” Kirishima didn’t warn Yokozawa in time and ended up coming on his face near his cheeks.

“Ah! Tissue! Tissue!” Kirishima panicked before grabbing a paper towel and carefully wiping Yokozawa’s face.

Yokozawa wasn’t even upset. “Your very sweet.”

“Well, it’s not every day I get a blowjob in my kitchen,” Kirishima chuckled nervously.

“I plan to give you a lot more if your patient,” Yokozawa said slowly getting up “I need to finish the dishes. If you’ll excuse me.”

-

(Later in Kirishima’s bedroom)

Kirishima leaned forward and kissed Yokozawa, resting a hand on his cheek. He deepened the kiss, nipping softly at Yokozawa's bottom lip. He sighed as he pulled away slightly, “Are you sure about this?"

Yokozawa melted into the kiss, letting out a breathless sigh when Kirishima pulled away. “Yes, I am.”

Kirishima pushed Yokozawa back against the wall, throwing all logic out the window. This was the best birthday present ever. He trailed his knee between Yokozawa's legs slightly as he buried his face in Yokozawa's neck to give him another mark.  Yokozawa was surprised when Kirishima had him against the wall but when Kirishima started to mark him, all logic was gone. He seriously hoped Kirishima could understand body language because he wanted him to fuck him against the wall, right here and now. Yokozawa already threw his arms around Kirishima’s neck and wrapped his legs around his waist, all he need was for Kirishima to get the message. Kirishima smirked against his neck, satisfied with the mark he left there. He started to pull down Yokozawa's underwear, tugging them down impatiently before letting the other wrap his legs around his waist once more. Fuck going slow at this point, he needed this. Kirishima would still make it pleasurable, but he'd be damned if he didn't fuck Yokozawa senseless. He gripped the other's thigh as he moved back in for a kiss. "I'm going to fuck the hell outta you." He growled lowly against his lips.

“I want you too,” Yokozawa groaned “I need you too, please...I want it so badly.”

Kirishima took Yokozawa's member into his hand and stroked it, satisfied at how Yokozawa trembled against him. "Mm, Yokozawa." Kirishima cooed, feeling himself get harder with each groan that passed through Yokozawa's lips.  Yokozawa was trembling in pleasure from Kirishima stroking his member, but he wanted more. He wanted Kirishima inside of him, fucking him until he screamed his name. Time to speed things up a bit. “Kirishima, please I need you inside of me, I want you to fuck me till I see stars.”

"As you wish.” Kirishima couldn't help but shiver at the request, at how needy Yokozawa sounded; he loved it. He moved slightly to slip off his pants and underwear. His member rested between Yokozawa's thighs, just barely rubbing against Yokozawa's before he moved, placing the head of his cock to Yokozawa's entrance.

 Yokozawa felt the head, and he eyes rolled back into his head as his grip tightens on Kirishima. He’s done this so many time before, but this was different. He wanted this, and damn did Kirishima’s cock feel good, even if it was just the tip. “God, Zen…” Yokozawa groaned “More…”

"I love hearing you beg for it Yokozawa." Kirishima hummed, licking his lips as he pushed in deeper until he was all the way in. "Fuck.” He groaned. Yokozawa gasp when Kirishima was in him before his grip tightened and he whispers “Move…”

Kirishima grunted, slowly started to move inside of Yokozawa. He gave hard slow thrusts as he gripped onto Yokozawa’s thighs tightly, brushing his lips against Yokozawa’s lightly. Yokozawa couldn’t help the small gasps and moan as Kirishima thrust in and out of him, he needed this and man did Kirishima know how to screw someone. Kirishima angled himself, trying to find the other’s prostate. He wanted to make Yokozawa feel as good as he possibly could. “You like that Yokozawa?” he purred against his neck, nipping softly at it. The other felt his cock stretch Yokozawa’s entrance further as he started to thrust faster.

When Kirishima started going faster, Yokozawa was thrown in oblivion. He was moaning Kirishima’s name loudly, his nails digging into Kirishima’s back “Yes...god yes! I like it...don’t stop…” Yokozawa manages to get out before Kirishima manage to hit his sweet spot. He thrust as fast as he could, his other hand released Yokozawa’s pale thigh to find his member. He stroked the other slowly in comparison to his fast, frantic thrusts that caused Yokozawa to moan his name. Yokozawa was having what can only be described as a sensory overload to what Kirishima was doing, he was practically shouting Kirishima’s name until Kirishima his prostate. Soon Yokozawa was putty in Kirishima's arms as he came in his hand seeing stars and white spots in vision. Kirishima continued, stroking Yokozawa faster to match his thrusts. The friction he felt as he thrust into Yokozawa was amazing. He panted against Yokozawa's neck, trying to catch his breath. "Yokozawa, you feel so good. Mmm, my cock feels so good in you." He murmured into the other's skin in pleasure.

“Cum inside me,” Yokozawa said feeling another orgasm coming on “I want to feel you inside me.” Kirishima smirked upon hearing that request, “Anything for you Yokozawa.” He started thrusting a bit faster as he felt a familiar feeling in his stomach. With the last few thrust of his hips, Kirishima came inside of Yokozawa, filling him up. The other continued to stroke Yokozawa, waiting for him to climax. Yokozawa came once again when Kirishima did, digging his nails into Kirishima’s back letting the high wash over him. When things calmed down, Yokozawa said “I need to take your cake out the oven.”

“Can you walk?” Kirishima asked. “You came twice.”

“I’ll be fine,” Yokozawa said readjusting his headband hissing as Kirishima pulled out and set him down “I just need to straighten myself up a little.”

Yokozawa then proceeded to brush down the maid outfit but didn’t put his underwear back on.

“You’re not putting your boxers back on?” Kirishima asked.

“I’m not going to need them,” Yokozawa replied giving Kirishima a sly smile “Besides, I wanted to make a banana split later.”

“Banana split?” Kirishima questioned.

“I have the whipped cream and the chocolate,” Yokozawa smirked before kissing Kirishima’s cheek “You have the banana.”

If Kirishima says he didn’t get hard after Yokozawa say that, he’d be lying.

“Go shower, I’ll finish decorating the cake,” Yokozawa said blowing Kirishima a kiss.

This was definitely the best birthday ever.

[a-panda-reads-act-omega]

ACT OMEGA PART 24

THE 04/02/17 UPDATE

Hey look at that, I’m bored and I can’t urge myself to close that act omega tab. You know what that means. I’m doing another part today, w o o o o o 

Alrighty, last time. Aranea showed up, and I reacted in a perfectly calm and orderly fashion. Let’s see where this goes!

Yup. Nobody’s happy. Put that grin away Aranea.

MEENAH: serket?? MEENAH: HOLD the GLUB up MEENAH: i thought you like MEENAH: got owned or w/e

She did indeed get owned or w/e. By you, in fact. You from another universe in which you became a giant hot troll wearing a goddamn skintight outfit.

Oh yeah, and she is currently destroying the hell out of the kiddo’s back at the lily pad.

ARANEA: ... Nice to see you too, Meenah.

Pssst.. it’s not nice to see you aranea...

ARANEA: Just as anxious to get to the point as ever. 8ut as per usual, I encourage you to exercise a 8it more p8tience. ARANEA: All your questions and concerns will be addressed eventually, I assure you. MEENAH: UUUGH MEENAH: i cannot B-ELI-EV-E this MEENAH: you go all crazy and try n pull off some ridiculous timeline divine intervention stunt MEENAH: prolly kelped actin like a hotshot all the way up to getting fuckin WAST-ED MEENAH: im out here thinkin i aint never gonna sea you again cause you got it in your head you had ta be the ultimate magnanimous blowhard just like your STUPID ALT S)(-ELLF MEENAH: AND T)(-EN MEENAH: you reappier outta NOW)(-ER-E MEENAH: lookin just as smug as you got no business bein MEENAH: and you tell me i gotta put up with whatever sanctimonious salmon youve prepared before i get any answers?!

LET ‘ER HAVE IT MEENAH. Can Aranea get the idea out of her head that SHE has got to be the one everybody looks up to? Because everytime she’s had an effect on this story, it’s made everything completely horrible. Honestly, she just tries too hard to be worthy of admiration. If she were like Vriska, she’d care more about doing what needs to be done instead of being admired by all. Merely because Vriska isn’t so dependent on the approval of others, and is happy with doing what needs to be done just so she can brag to herself and others. Alright, I kinda feel like getting deeper into this. How Vriska and Aranea differ and parallel eachother, because it’s a pretty thin line that doesn’t feel obvious. But here’s a very simple way of putting it:

Vriska wants to be the hero Aranea wants to be seen as the hero

Vriska wants to force dead weight to carry itself Aranea wants useful people to depend on her

I feel like that sums it up fairly well, really. Maybe I’ll start making sideposts of character analysis if I feel like getting deeper into these topics.

ARANEA: Sanctimonious what? MEENAH: OH MY COD I M-EANT S-ERMON

GET MAD MEENAH. IMPALE HER WITH YOUR POKEY FORK.

And here we find Porrim, in her natural state of “tired of everybodys shit”

PORRIM: Meenah. Yo+u might want to+ reel yo+urself in for a mo+ment.

S)(-ELL NO

MEENAH: >38( PORRIM: Maybe try to+ avo+id making the same mistakes as the yo+unger Serket.

DONT BRING VRISKA INTO THIS 

VRISKA: Excuse me???????? PORRIM: O+h, hush. Yo+u’ve spent far mo+re energy externalizing yo+ur frustratio+n than you+ have do+ing anything pro+ductive. PORRIM: We can o+nly take so+ much o+f this. We're here to+ try and do+ so+mething with o+ur afterlife o+ther than willfully subject o+urselves to+ its infinite echo+ chamber o+f teenage drama.

Porrim

porrim, baby

i love you, i do

but this is n o T JUST TEENAGE DRAMA? I mean, Aranea killed EVERYBODY.

PORRIM: I myself have had eno+ugh o+f that fo+r at least two+ lifetimes. PORRIM: So+ if either o+f yo+u are ultimately o+nly go+ing to co+ntribute to+ the endless caco+phany, rather than fo+cus o+n getting results, I suggest yo+u mo+ve it to+ so+me o+ther bubble. PORRIM: If no+t, then co+nsider jo+ining the rest o+f us in seeing what Aranea might have to+ o+ffer to+ o+ur cause. ARANEA: Why, thank you, Porrim. That was very eloquently put. I promise you won’t 8e disappointed. ::::)

Goddammit Porrim, you gave her a reason to be smug. Just because Porrim is tired of the arguing, doesn’t mean you’re somehow at all justified in anything you’ve ever done ever.

ok im salty

PORRIM: Hmmm. We’ll see. ARANEA: Really, I was well prepared for my reappearance to cause something of a stir. It’s completely understanda8le to want an explan8tion.

UUUUUGHHhfadjnkms SHuuut uppp

ARANEA: I’ve 8een lying low for quite a while now. Gathering inform8tion, drawing conclusions, revising and perfecting plans... All of which will certainly prove invalua8le for you all in your current predicament! ARANEA: It really is a shame you’ve landed yourselves in such a 8ind! It was ultim8ly inevita8le, 8ut unfortun8 all the same. ARANEA: Isn’t it lucky, then, that I’m here to put this tr8n 8ack on its tracks?

Im gonna die from salt poisoning help

PORRIM: SIGH...

SIGH...

PORRIM: If yo+u have any interest in keeping that pro+mise o+f yo+urs, I suggest yo+u skip the preamble.

Thank you Porrim. I’m trying to find somebody to latch onto here, but everybody is starting problem’s n s t uf f . 

Everybody looks so

VRISKA: Hold the fucking phone! Why should we listen to ANYTHING you have to say?

YOU sHOULDN’T

VRISKA: Your track record isn’t exactly stellar! And from what I’m seeing right now, you haven’t learned from your colossal fuckup one iota!

WOAH, VASKA... who the hell says iota????

VRISKA: I have a8solutely ZERO interest in letting the same washed up has-8een whose mess *I* had to clean up waltz up here and act like she’s my goddamn s8vior!!!!!!!

YEAH TELL HER VRISKA! EVEN THOUGH IM PREEETTY SURE YOU DID NOTHING AND TEREZI DID EVERYTHING...

And, oh god my memory of the timelines and stuff are getting me confused. I’m sure I’m probably wrong about this, but y’know what I’m gonna talk about it anyways. Would this Vriska really even know about Aranea? I mean, she didn’t die, so... maybe just in her dreams or something. or. gdi im confused.

ARANEA: Come now, Vriska. You of all people should know that there are 8etter times to choose for throwing hissyfits!

This isn’t a HISSYFITS. This is clear and rational thought. And I don’t get w hY NOBODY ELSE IS QUESTIONING THESE THINGS.

ARANEA: And 8esides, what a8out your little plan? We can all pl8nly see how well that turned out. You were smacked down just as unceremoniously as I was, so don’t act as if you’re suddenly the only person who can pull their own w8 around here.

Yeah, but you know what? Her plan didn’t revolve around dooming EVERYBODY. Her plan had essence of COMPETENCE.

ARANEA: You may 8e incredibly stu88orn, 8ut you can’t 8e so foolish as to dismiss common sense purely for the s8ke of your ego. I’m your 8est shot at m8king it out of this alive. While your army was 8eing eradic8ed, I was 8usy uncovering the truth. ARANEA: If you would just allow me to expl8n, perhaps you could finally reg8n your wits and 8e a8le to focus on what TRULY matters.

oh god i hate her h e l p.

pLEASE.. DOUBle DEATh HER.

VRISKA: I already HAVE my wits! And I was just a8out to use them to whip this 8unch of losers into sh8pe 8efore YOU and your 8loated delusions of grandeur showed up! ARANEA: Is that what you were a8out to do? I never would have guessed. Considering from my perspective, you were in the middle of some sort of mental 8reakdown 8rought on 8y 8eing utterly incapa8le of comprehending the magnitude of your own failure!

At least she DAMAGED HIM. SHE INFLICTED SOME FORM OF HARM TO THE UNKILLABLE GOD TRYING TO FUCK THEM OVER. You literally just got everybody killed with no positive result, you cannot claim that you are A N Y better than her.

ARANEA: If you had been p8ying attention, you might have t8ken note of when I mentioned that this outcome was inevita8le. There was hardly anything I could have done to prevent it. YOU, on the other hand... ARANEA: The mishap with your dice could easily have 8een avoided if you had simply realized how thoroughly outmatched you were. Did you actually try your little luck-stealing trick on LORD ENGLISH?

FIRST THE  F U C K OF ALL... If this outcome was inevitable, then that literally makes EVERYBODY IN PARADOX SPACE JUST AS RESPONSIBLE FOR THIS DISASTER. NNGH YOU CANNOT PIN THIS ON VRISKA JUST TO MAKE YOURSELF LOOK BETTER

VRISKA: Yeah! I did!!!!!!!! That’s kind of what I DO? VRISKA: 8ut... it didn’t WORK. ARANEA: Tsk, tsk. Of course it didn’t. Lord English is hardly on the same level as the 8lack king, or the myriad low-level imps, hapless trolls, and pitiful ghosts from which you’d previously acquired your ill-gotten fortune. Your a8ilities aren’t even close to developed enough to stand a chance against such an opponent! ARANEA: 8ut say, I think that perhaps we can strike a deal. We all know that time has 8een kinder to me in that I’ve had enough of it to refine my powers considera8ly. 8etween the two of us, I am clearly the superior Hero of Light.

. . . . . . . . F U C K Y O U .

Can’t deal with this. Can’t TAKE this girl’s superiority complex.

God im turning into the human equivallent of a salt shaker.

VRISKA: Oh, yeah. Sure. 8ecause I’m totally interested in whatever 8ogus “deal” you have to offer. Especially when you phrase it like THAT! ARANEA: And yet you don’t deny truth of my words. A smart choice. VRISKA: Are you going to w8ste time gloating, or actually get to the point?! ARANEA: My point is that I would 8e more than happy to lend you my services. Allow you to maximize your potential in a more... expedient fashion, given the sizea8le constraints we are currently under. ARANEA: All you would have to do is ask nicely. May8e even apologize for raising your voice? A little more respect and deference would 8e appreci8ed as well. ARANEA: What do you say? A deal is a deal? ::::)

GOD. DAMN IT I CANNOT DEAL WITH THIS. I REALLY REALLY R E A L L Y HATE HER. NOBODY WANTS YOUR HELP. Oh god this is turning into the worst liveblog ever, B U T SERIOUSLY I HATE HER AND THAT IS LITERALLY ALL I CAN THINK ABOUT RIGHT NOW.

VRISKA: How a8out this: I DON’T NEED YOUR HELP!!!!!!!!

YEs. PRECISELY 

OHFUCKHIKANKRI

KANKRI: *PHWEEEEEEEET!!!*

...

O k you know what. For once, I’m actually happy about Kankri existing. That fuckfest needed to end.

And jesus. I need to calm myself down.

Oh god poor Mituna is freaking out.

KANKRI: I think that is QUITE en9ugh 9f that f9r n9w. While I n9rmally endeav9r t9 enc9urage c9nstructive de6ate in the interest 9f inf9rming the ign9rant masses, this argument has 6ec9me far t99 pr96lematic f9r me t9 all9w it t9 c9ntinue!

Gdi I haven’t even read it yet, but it already hurts to look at.

Alright. So yeah, this is getting out of hand and he’s putting a stop to it with his space jesus powers.

KANKRI: There isn’t nearly en9ugh time f9r me t9 g9 9ver all 9f the deeply distur6ing c9mments disparaging n9t 9nly the magically disadvantaged, 6ut the mentally challenged, which I have just 69re witness t9. S9 I will settle with 6riefly chastising y9u 69th f9r y9ur cavalier disregard 9f y9ur inherent privilege, and enc9urage y9u to 6e m9re aware 9f h9w the nature 9f y9ur w9rds might affect the very imp9rtant feelings 9f pe9ple that aren’t here.

And people that ARE here. Like, you know. The mentally challenged Mituna right behind you. Though I’m pretty sure you’re speech his having a worse affect on him than they are. Also, how the hell did they even offend any mentally challenged people??

LATULA: ummmmmm, l1k3, not to b3 UN-r4d or wh4t3v3r, b3c4us3 th4t 1s TOT3S not my styl3, LATULA: but m1tun4 1s l1k3, R1GHT h3r3??

Thank you Latula, the poor guy is dying at all these words.

KANKRI: He is?

Oh my god Kankri, seriously? Were you too busy ogling at Latula to realize that their were handicapped people who needed defending in the area?

MITUNA: 1 H4T3 Y0UR FUCK1NG W157L3 KANKRI: 9h. Right, 9f c9urse. My mistake. Ap9l9gies, Mituna. I h9pe y9u d9n’t mind that I have taken it up9n myself t9 help speak 9n y9ur behalf, c9nsidering y9ur vari9us issues with speaking at all.

kANKRI. that is not how you speak to handicapped people. Is he just salty that he’s dating Latula? Yeah. he’s totally salty about latula.

MITUNA: UM KANKRI: Exactly. Y9u’ve 6een rendered n9n-ver6al 6y the sens9ry 9verl9ad caused 6y all this unnecessary sh9uting. Which makes the wh9le thing w9rse, really. Right, Mituna? MITUNA: WHY 4R3 7HR33 S0 M4NY W0RD5 MITUNA: 175 4LL MITUNA: 8UZZ1NG LATULA: dont worry 4bout 1t b4b3! 1ts 4lmost ov3r. MITUNA: 5H0U71NG 4ND MITUNA: 5TUP1D 8ULG3 WH1FF1NG WH157L35 MITUNA: FUCK

Latula is literally the best supportive girlfriend. Is she gonna cover his ears for him next?

KANKRI: Even m9re sincere ap9l9gies, Mituna. Even if the use 9f the whistle was vital in the c9nstructi9n 9f y9ur safe space, I understand that it did upset y9u and that y9ur feelings 9n the matter are valid. KANKRI: 6ut thankfully, and despite the unf9rtunate side effects, it did its j96 9f helping 6ring every9ne t9 their senses. KANKRI: Really, this wh9le thing c9uld have 6een av9ided if y9u 69th had just listened t9 P9rrim's advice. PORRIM: O+h. PORRIM: Kanny, did yo+u just... AGREE with me fo+r o+nce? KANKRI: ... KANKRI: I 6elieve I have asked y9u several times n9w n9t t9 call me that!

what has this devolved into? What is this BICKERING. Can anybody remain on the same page for more than two sentences? Honestly, I’m surprised Lord English hasn’t just killed them all yet.

AND HERE THESE TWO ARE, indifferent as always.

SOLLUX: (well.) SOLLUX: (this is pr0bably the worst clusterfuck i have ever had the f0rtune 0f n0t seeing.) SOLLUX: (are y0u sure we can’t just leave?) SOLLUX: (as if whichever smug fuck that ends up running the idi0t brigade is g0ing to s0lve 0ur impending d00m. it’s alm0st starting t0 feel like the wh0le pirate crew bullshit all 0ver again.) SOLLUX: (except s0meh0w even m0re 0f a catastr0phe.)

Sollux, there’s one thing you’re forgetting. The pirate ship was a disaster, yes. but now you have one KEY FACTOR that will lead you all to victory. The power of F R I E N D S H I P. Can’t you just feel all the good vibes radiating off of these assholes?

ARADIA: (we cant go yet sollux!) ARADIA: (i have no intention of leaving) ARADIA: (and while i understand why you may want to this time it really is somewhat imperative that you stay) ARADIA: (we all have a part to play in the preservation of reality) ARADIA: (a mission which is even more critical now than it has ever been!)

Alright, so this team’s objective “SAVE REALITY” Team lilypad’s objective “DONT.. DIE” Team Lowas’s objective “THERAPIZE ERISOL”

SIMPLE ENOUGH.

oh god i just remembered Calliope already died and that’s s A  D ...

SOLLUX: (ugh. really?) ARADIA: (yes!) SOLLUX: (s0 i’m like. imp0rtant s0meh0w?) ARADIA: (does it help you feel better to think about it like that?) SOLLUX: (... kind 0f? bizarrely en0ugh.) SOLLUX: (where did that c0me fr0m all 0f a sudden?) ARADIA: (i couldnt possibly tell you) ARADIA: (but what i can tell you is that i think this brief setback will be over soon) SOLLUX: (fine, if y0u say s0.)

All setbacks can be overcome with enough  TIME. HAHA.... TIME JOKE. The hell am i doing with my life.

Oh shit is Davepeta here to drop some calm bombs on the group?

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < man this is just getting sad DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < but guess i oughta toss my two cents into this clusterfuck DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < beclaws honestly i KIND of agr33 with vwiskers a little? DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < my subconscious is clawing at me that we totally cant trust aranea at all ever

THANK, you. 

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < cause shes seriously bad news DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < i dont have any real concrete memories or anything to support it but DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < i dunno! thats just how i f33l DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < meow on the other paw DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < we kind of are in some purrty hot water DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < and i ALSO have the conflicting f33ling that whatever info she has fur us will be impurrtant DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < so if anything we should just hear her out DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < so long as you dont try to pull anything fishy!!

SIGH... I G U E S S. It still feels horrible to even let her get a word in, just because she’s literally gonna act like every useful information she gives is worth everything, and they have no right to blame her for anything.

ARANEA: Er... ARANEA: Thank you for the endorsement. And the warning, I suppose. ARANEA: If there won’t 8e any further interruptions? MEENAH: yeah sure fine whatever MEENAH: but u beta believe im gonna be gilling you later ARANEA: I look forward to it.

I’m gonna hope that was a fish pun, and what she meant was ‘killing’

TAVROS: i THINK VRISKA LOOKS LIKE, sHE IS READY TO STOP SHOUTING, TAVROS: sO WE CAN BEGIN LISTENING, TAVROS: wHICH IS GOOD, bECAUSE I AM VERY CURIOUS, TAVROS: eSPECIALLY SINCE, i SORT OF, aLWAYS LIKED YOUR STORIES, aRANEA, TAVROS: wHEN THEY DIDN’T RUN TOO LONG, aNYWAY,,,

N O B O D Y A S K E D Y O U  T A V R O S

putthatfuckingsmileaway

ARANEA: Don’t worry, Tavros. I will try and keep this as 8rief as possible. ARANEA: While also ensuring all vital inform8tion and context is provided, of course. ARANEA: Now, allow me to 8egin...

...gjdkgfignjfij

conflicting feelings about everything here. Alright. WELL, that is the end of this update. you can listen to my whine a bunch on the next part. SO. yeah.

[hellyeahheroes]

Looking Back at 2016- Best Supporting Series

While you can cast your votes for Hell Yeah Teen Superheroes Awards 2016, I’ll be taking look back at the year behind us and see what would be my picks for the listed categories, as well as musing in general about books in each. Today we’ll take a look at series about adult characters, who had used young heroes in supporting roles.

This year, in general, was full of books that were fitting in that group. While Marvel had only few such titles, DC got on the roll with Rebirth, where suddenly it seemed like every book about an adult went “Doesn’t he have a sidekick?”. Duke Thomas was used heavily in both Batman’s books, Jonathan Kent in Superman’s, Emiko Queen in Green Arrow, Wally West in Flash… you get my point. Quite frankly that was the best way for DC to go, considering one of the goals of DC Rebirth was to reestablish a sense of legacy and history that have been lost with the dawn of the New 52.Not to mention family being one of its central themes. As such it was really hard to narrow this down to those few titles that I felt deserve the most recognition. Again, these are my personal picks and if you feel that I’ve missed something, feel free to argue… or cast your own votes in the awards proper.

The first title I want to mention is one that seems to be getting the least attention. Published under DC’s Young Animal imprint, Cave Carson has a Cybernetic Eye had only just started, with three issues released in 2016. However, said issues were undeniably a blast. Gerard Way’s brand of weird combined with cartoony, retro style of Michael Avon Oeming, managed to create something that has a feel similar to Venture Bros (especially with Wild Dog, who would probably fit on Venture Bros pretty well), only less interested in taking apart the tropes of classic comics and cartoons in favor of just enjoying them. Cave Carson, one of the most obscure DC characters ever (they’ve literally picked him because he had the smallest entry on “Who is Who in DC Universe?”) not only must confront his past and stop people who want to tarnish his legacy for profit (or more nefarious goals) but also repair relationship with his teenage daughter, Chloe. It’s the stranded, but still able to be mended bond between those two that provides a sense of normalcy between everything weird the book is throwing at us and Wild Dog’s antics. I put it on my list to also represent those few books that started to late (Nova vol.7, which would also qualify as a solo/shared book, depending on how you look at it) or introduced teen character too late (Power Man & Iron Fist, whose last two issues of 2016 added Alex Wilder to the cast) to really have a winning chance in voting, but deserve acknowledgment.  

The next title that needs to be recognized for what is it stands on the opposite end of the spectrum. Firmly grounded in real life and tackling real problems, Captain America: Sam Wilson is one of the most controversial titles of 2016. Which occurs in a way that I cannot help, but find really ironic. Sam Wilson tries to be Captain America for the people, who doesn’t shy away from talking about a different subject and sharing his views. And media made him into their favorite punching bag. Conservatives are lambasting him constantly, accusing of “dividing this country” for taking side…which usually means taking a side they don’t agree with. Helping with hacker Whisperer to expose S.H.I.E.L.D. illegal facility to detain supervillains without a trial? “He aids traitors against the government!” Taking down a bunch of racist hunting down immigrants on the borders to sell them as subjects to a guy who is in equal parts Doctor Moreau and Joseph Mengele? “He is attacking good citizens keeping our borders safe!” Going after corrupt supervillain corporation that was backing those racists? “He is destroying honest business and all work positions it created!” Trying to intervene in a conflict between Americops, who are basically police brutality incarnate and citizens of Harlem they’re beating up for minor offenses? “He is attacking our protectors and aiding criminals and thugs!” And at the same time, he cannot really win either. When he tried to resolve the problem with Americops peacefully it escalated into a brawl and teenage superhero Rage accusing him of selling out. Nobody talks about the moments he succeeds, but everyone brings up the slightest misstep, big or small or not even a bad move at all, unless you can spin it as such. And the irony comes in the fact that this is exactly the treatment the book has gotten from the audience. Fox News went apeshit over Sam beating racists on the borders. Lurk through Spacebattles or 4chan or any other site and you’ll see endless legions of manchildren whining about how corporate supervillain Viper is an obvious Trump parody or how Nick Spencer claims all cops are evil. At every step, this book is lambasted for lacking nuance subtlety or moral ambiguity as if any of those things were needed here. And yet people who should be talking about this book only pay attention to it when they can bash it as well. Yes, I’m talking here about last week’s issue with “SJWs parody” (by the way, one time the book took a jab at liberals in 2016? Turned out to be a robot and ploy by Hydra. So maybe give a guy a benefit of doubt?). I’m sorry, but when was this entire publicity when the book introduced new Falcon, who is a Latino-American illegal immigrant who likes leaving food and water on most dangerous routes from Mexico to America? When it was when he made an issue about Misty Knight hunting down a criminal who was using robots to make sex tapes of superheroines to ruin their reputation? When it was when Sam Wilson made a speech at Jim Rhodes’ funeral, about how much of an inspiration to black community he was? Oh right, everyone were too busy over the fact that Sam had a meeting with Black Panther, Storm, Luke Cage, Monica Rembeau, Misty Knight and Nick Fury Jr. before the funeral, either accusing the title of being racist to show so many black superheroes know each other or accusing it of being racist because, and I quote, “Tony should be there!”. It makes me sad this title gets so little love, despite how often and unapologetically it speaks against current problems and isn’t afraid of siding against the system or the “centrism” it’s now being accused of supporting. And because of prominent roles played by Falcon, Rage and during Standoff also Kobik, it qualifies here and deserves a recognition.

The next title on the list caused much less controversy. In fact, it’s being celebrated by pretty much everyone interested. Deathstroke. A triumphant return of legendary Christopher Priest to the comics mainstream after 9 years long absence, that fixes the unholy sea of shit that the New 52 was for Slade, Rose and Joey Wilson. Not everything it does is flattering to the characters – Jericho, for example, is trying to get back into the closet, something that has already been pointed out to be clearly caused by his daddy issues. But this is also why the book is allowed to get away with it. It’s an unapologetic portrayal of Slade as a destructive force who damages everyone he touches, whenever he wants or not and it explores both the impact he had on Rose and Joey as well as their complicated relationships. At the same time it is possibly only comics in the big two that is doing a serious, gritty (and I mean here real gritty, not the “GUN! MURDER! FIGHTS! SEX!” misunderstood gritty that comics tried to do since the 90s) mix of military drama and spy thriller as it examines Slade’s past and how it constantly comes back to haunt him and his family. The book is great at juggling many plotlines and tones, so one moment we can have a serious military story about Slade, followed by Rose kicking asses to lighter moments with Joey.

While Captain America: Sam Wilson was lambasted by the media and Deathstroke was allowed quiet existence with well-deserved critical acclaim, our next book is somewhere between them. Undeniably a critics’ darling, it had caused some backlash over the treatment of at least one character. The Vision. Dark, depressing tale of Vision and his newly-created family that mixes a heavy drama with psychological horror in science fiction dressing. The book focuses heavily on the family, as they struggle to salvage as much of the crumbling normality they’ve built. Because of it I had a hard time deciding whenever to qualify this book here or as an ensemble title (as even the title can be read in two ways). But in the end, even when he doesn’t do much at given issue, Vision is the one the emotional weight revolves around. It’s his obsession with normalcy and emotional neglect, that contribute to Virginia’s progressively worsening mental state, which also impacts Vin and Viv. It’s only with the addition of Victor Mancha, Vision’s more human brother, that we can realize how damaged Vision himself is. Of course, the controversial treatment of Victor by this book was something we’ve been discussing several times by now and I had to establish my position on the issue more than once. I still feel that the direction the book has taken Victor in id not ruin the character and had potential, which is why I find the decision to kill him to be one big disappointment in an otherwise excellent title. Despite that one blunder, however, Vision remains one of the best titles of the year. Among many good titles helped put Tom King’s name on the map, while also having an unusual, beautiful art by Gabriel Walta.

And finally the last book in this category and also the one I think I’ve enjoyed the most. Superman. Alongside its sister series, Action Comics, the book establishes return of pre-Flashpoint Superman as a prominent figure in DC Universe, while also exploring a completely new direction. Superman is now not only married to Lois, but they also have a son. Young Jon Kent is a fun character, who is learning about responsibilities that come with his powers and legacy of being the son of Superman. Of course he is lucky enough to have Clark and Lois, who are fantastic parents. Clark, or Superdad as fans came to call him, proves to be a loving father, who understands how hard it is to grow up with superpowers, so he tries to ease this for Jon as much as he can. Together they visit Dinosaur Island in heartwarming tribute to late Darwyn Cooke and punch evil Kryptonian robot in the face. Not to mention how Clark and Bruce put their sons in a boot camp to teach them some teamwork. Even when the book lacked Jon’s presence, as was the case in the last story of 2016, Supermonster, it still managed to emphasize on him and how important he and Lois are to Superman. It did so by contrasting Clark and Lois’ love with a relationship between Frankenstein and his Bride, whose marriage fell apart after the death of their son. The book establishes Superman as a family man and in doing so reveals a whole new field of stories to tell about the same Man of Steel, that many people have called boring for years.

So, these are my picks for the best titles with teen heroes in a supporting role of 2016. Do you think I’ve missed something or something didn’t deserve the praise? Tell me in comments and reblogs. And remember you can vote in for the awards, by sending my asks, fan mails and submissions.

[news-mashable-yahoopartner-blog]

The email problem no one is talking about: mistaken identity

This post is part of Me, online, Mashable's ongoing series digging into online identities.

In 2009, a San Francisco web strategist named Tim — last name withheld for reasons that will become clear — opened his Gmail to find a message from a Build-a-Bear workshop in St. Louis. The email was addressed to someone called Tamara. 

That's odd, thought Tim, but thought little more about it. Days later he received an email directed at someone called Toby. It contained photos of a family eating an Easter meal with, his correspondent assured him, "lots and lots of BACON!" 

SEE ALSO: Everyone's getting new Gmail — and old Gmail will soon go extinct

So far so mundane. But the misdirected emails — for Tyrells, Terrys, Thomases — kept coming at an alarming rate. They often contained the kinds of things you really don't want shared with strangers: hook-up notes ("I got a bottle so we could drink and I'm putting on a dress"), medical records, divorce papers, real estate deals, demands from a debt collector, a request from a police officer for his license plate, even an autopsy report. 

Tim keeps a folder in his Gmail now, purely for the more random, weird, indiscreet ones he's received over the last nine years. The folder currently contains 1,355 messages. 

"At first I would write back and say 'you have the wrong email,'" says Tim. But sometimes the correspondent would keep bugging him: Okay, what's the right email? The debt collector kept hounding him regardless. These days, with the misdirected emails coming at the rate of one a day, he simply deletes or sends them to spam.

Cases of mistaken identity like this are becoming more common as more people around the globe acquire email addresses — and more of their correspondents misremember or mistype them. But so far as we know there are no email providers, much less startups or security researchers, working to solve the problem. Unlike with spam, there isn't even a catchy name for it. 

For many recipients, the problem is amusing at best and irritating at worst. Some misdirected emails can even be useful. (One Mashable editor receives regular discount coupons from a liquor store intended for someone else; she invariably uses them.) 

a funny thing unconnected to anything else i have tweeted about this week is that someone named Alexis Mull apparently used my gmail (amull85) to purchase a background report on someone named Tiffany from a sketchy people-finder site and it got emailed to me today

— Amanda Mull (@amandamull) June 7, 2018

Yet the risk is real. Not just the risk of personal embarrassment when a stranger sees your family photos or love notes, but the risk of identity theft when they see your bank records, mortgage application, divorce decree, or any other of the astonishing amount of personal documents we send via the internet these days. 

Examples are everywhere. You don't have to look very far on message boards for Microsoft or Apple to find people locked out of their accounts when a security code was sent to the wrong address. In 2016, the National Australia Bank admitted sending emails containing account numbers for some 60,000 customers to the wrong address. The cause? "Human error."  

No confirmation required

I could empathize with Tim's problem because it was mine, too. We'd both heard about the arrival of Gmail before it launched in April 2004. We'd both rushed on day one to grab Gmail accounts based on our first initial and last name. We both celebrated our good fortune at the time, not realizing the tangled web that would await years later when you have a common initial-last name combo.

For me, it's been a long decade and a half of fielding emails for what seems like every Chris, Charles, Cynthia, Claire, Clare, Christian, Catherine and Cheryl Taylor on the planet. I'll often wake up to discover a flurry of follow-up emails from auto dealerships in North Carolina — this seems to happen in the Carolinas more than other states, for some reason — and surmise that yet another Charles Taylor has gone car shopping and misremembered his email address. (Or worse, he deliberately fobbed those pesky salesmen off with a Gmail address that sounded like it could be his.) 

Like Tim, I've given up trying to respond and mark most of these emails as spam, even though that doesn't quite describe what they are. And even that doesn't fix the problem, because there are invariably more email newbies making fresh mistakes. It isn't the greatest thing for productivity; I probably spend a good half-hour of every day extracting misdirected missives from my poor beleaguered inbox.

If that's all it was, I'd be relatively fine with it. The even larger problem is this: Many popular online services don't require proof that your email says what you say it is — or they treat "ctaylor" and "c.taylor" as different addresses, whereas mail providers like Gmail treat them as one and the same. 

That means you can sign up for Instagram, say, with someone else's email address, and they'll be hit with annoying messages from that day forward. Years ago, someone signed up for Instagram with my email address — or at least, the c.taylor version. Occasionally they'll try to log in, and guess where the reset code is sent? 

PSA: My actual Instagram account is @futurechris.

Image: gmail

Meanwhile, someone named Lloyd Taylor successfully signed up for an Apple ID using my Gmail address. (I used a pre-existing account for my Apple ID.) He requests a password reset that gets sent to my email with such regularity, about once every two weeks, that I assumed it was part of some elaborate phishing expedition. 

To its credit, when I contacted the company for this story, Apple was able to confirm that Lloyd is for real. As I write, Apple reps are going through the process of disentangling my address from his account. 

How common is this problem? I asked Twitter, and 56% of those who replied said they'd never encountered it in their own digital lives. But that means a whopping 44% did. 

[POLL] Have you ever received a private email intended for someone else with a similar name or email address?

— Chris Taylor (@FutureBoy) June 14, 2018

Granted, it's not a scientific poll, and more study is needed. But given that there are an estimated 4 billion email accounts in the world (owned by roughly 2 billion people), if 10 percent of people are encountering this problem "all the time," that's up to 200 million people affected. This is a hell of a problem for something that doesn't even have a name. 

I’ve written back when I received an email about a job offer for another Heather, emails where a woman with a catering business thought I was her colleague; emails regarding family reunions; and one time when I got a very personal email with an apology meant for another Heather.

— Heather Lynn Weaver (@HeatherWeaverDC) June 14, 2018

I also get a lot of order confirmations from various websites for Heather Weavers across the country. I don’t contact the companies when i get those (though they often have personal info like address and phone). I also got medical records from a dr office once. I wrote back there

— Heather Lynn Weaver (@HeatherWeaverDC) June 14, 2018

I didn't even have to look that far. My wife Jess has a similar issue, even though she doesn't have a common last name like me or Tim. And she was smarter than both of us, reasoning at the time that merely using her first initial in the account would bring her more misdirected email than she bargained for.

Then in 2010, a woman with the exact same name in Vermont, evidently disappointed by being beaten to the account, signed up for an email using "Jes" rather than Jess. Ever since, it seems, almost everyone emailing that Jess reached my Jess by mistake — especially since the rise of autocorrect. 

West Coast Jess has received dozens of wedding planning emails, job applications, rental contracts, Comcast logins, orthodontic and hospital appointments for Vermont Jess' kids, and a hospital ID login. She emailed "Jes" directly, who didn't seem to see the problem. She tried emailing her correspondents, but found the same thing that Tim and I discovered: Whereas you can say the words "wrong number" and people will understand you when they call, you don't get the same reaction when you write back and simply say "wrong email." 

"People think you're crazy for pointing it out," Jess says. "They're adamant that they've reached the right person."

This is where technology could help. Gmail has a button that lets us easily report spam — and unsubscribe from annoying lists — with two clicks. How about a button that will have Gmail write a form letter back to the correspondent, explaining that they have not reached the person they think they've reached, to check their records and try again, and maybe don't hound this person for debt payments?

It's an interesting concept, but we're going to have to wait to find out whether Google is interested in implementing it. When I contacted the company for this story, I was told that the Gmail product team is "all heads down" in advance of Google Cloud Next, a conference that isn't happening for another month from now, and an official "no comment." 

If and when Gmail and other email providers get around to implementing a fix for the mistaken identity problem, let's just hope those press releases make their way to the intended inboxes. 

WATCH: Screen name confessions: Our most cringe-worthy online handles

[blackchristiannewswire]

LISTEN: Whyte House Family Devotions #350 (05/06/18): "Seek God For Yourself," by Billy Graham

https://soundcloud.com/danielwhyteiii/whyte-house-family-devotions-350-050618-seek-god-for-yourself-by-billy-graham

[caption id="attachment_40916" align="alignleft" width="156"] Daniel Whyte III[/caption] My family and I have had morning devotions, or family altar as some people call it, every day ever since my wife, Meriqua, and I were married 30 years ago. We have prayed and read the Bible together as well as other devotional books as a family, and it is the only reason why this family has stayed together, and the only reason why God has blessed our family and used our family in ministry all of these years. We read Ephesians 5 and 6 every morning as it relates to the role of each member of the family and how that we need to put on the whole armor of God to fight against the devil who is seeking to destroy our family and all Christian families, churches, and Christians. So, now after 30 years of doing this in our home, we are opening this up to others who don't have a family to pray with, who don't have a spouse, or who are single by choice, and to encourage all families who are still intact to go back to the family altar and have devotions together every morning. In these devotions, you may hear me deal with a temptation I'm facing in my life, you may hear me rebuke my wife about not doing what she should be doing, or you may hear me get on one of my children's cases about something they're doing. Don't be shocked; this is real life. SING "DOXOLOGY" Praise God from Whom all blessings flow Praise Him, all creatures here below Praise Him above, ye heavenly hosts Praise Father, Son and Holy Ghost Amen Billy Graham said, “The time to prepare for life’s disappointments and hurts is in advance.” ------ PRAY "THE NEW COMMON PRAYER" Almighty and most merciful Father; We have sinned, and strayed from Thy ways like lost sheep. We have followed too much the devices and desires of our own hearts. We have offended against Thy holy laws. We have left undone those things which we ought to have done; And we have done those things which we ought not to have done; And there is no peace and joy in us. But Thou, O Lord, have mercy upon us, miserable offenders. Spare Thou us, O God, who confess our sins, our faults, and our failures. Restore those of us who confess our sins and repent; According to Thy promises declared unto us in Christ Jesus our Lord. And grant, O most merciful Father, for His sake; That we may hereafter live a godly, righteous, and sober life. To the glory of Thy holy Name. In Jesus Christ's Name, Amen. ------ EPHESIANS 6:12-13 12 For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places. 13 Wherefore take unto you the whole armour of God, that ye may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand. Stephen J. Cole writes in his commentary on this passage: "When Paul states that these evil forces are not 'flesh and blood' and that they dwell 'in heavenly places,' he means that they are not earthly creatures with physical bodies, but rather spirit-beings that are invisible to us. We do not know whether they can temporarily take on a human form of their own, as the righteous angels do, but it would seem reasonable to assume that they can. Demons can take possession of human personalities and bodies, creating disease and bizarre behavior, as many instances in the Gospels and the Book of Acts show. Their normal mode of operation is to work through unbelievers and through human religions, governments, cultures, media, and philosophies to further Satan's opposition to God. But the main point here is that they are real spirit-beings, not just an impersonal evil influence." ------- PRAYER ------- DEVOTIONAL PASSAGE: Psalm 137:1-4 1 By the rivers of Babylon, there we sat down, yea, we wept, when we remembered Zion. 2 We hanged our harps upon the willows in the midst thereof. 3 For there they that carried us away captive required of us a song; and they that wasted us required of us mirth, saying, Sing us one of the songs of Zion. 4 How shall we sing the Lord's song in a strange land? Regarding this passage, Matthew Henry writes: “Their enemies had carried the Jews captive from their own land. To complete their woes, they insulted them, requiring of them mirth and song. This was barbarous and profane, for no songs would serve but the songs of Zion. Scoffers are not to be complied with. They do not say, How shall we sing, when we are so much in sorrow? but, It is the Lord's song, therefore we dare not sing it among idolaters.” --------- PRAYER FOR THE ESTATES 1. Family 2. Clergy (church) 3. Government 4. People (citizens) 5. The press (media) 6. New media/Online journalists PRAYER FOR THE FAMILY PRAYER FOR CHURCH LEADERSHIP - For all pastors, church leaders, denominational leaders, Bible teachers, missionaries, and ministry workers. GOVERNMENT LEADERS 1 Timothy 2:1-2 says, "I exhort therefore, that, first of all, supplications, prayers, intercessions, and giving of thanks, be made for all men; For kings, and for all that are in authority; that we may lead a quiet and peaceable life in all godliness and honesty." President Donald Trump and his administration Vice President Mike Pence First Lady Melania Trump Second Lady Karen Pence All White House staff including: Deputy Director of Trade and Manufacturing Policy Alexander B. Gray All leaders of federal agencies including: Government Accountability Office Comptroller General Eugene Louis Dodaro All state governors including: Virginia Governor Ralph Northam All city mayors including: Cooper City, FL, Mayor Greg Ross All members of Congress including: Florida Representative Stephanie Murphy All law enforcement officials including: Cooper City, FL, Police Captain Robert Cates All military leaders including: Defense Secretary James Mattis / National Security Agency General Paul M. Nakasone Leaders of nations around the world including: Nauru’s President Baron Waqa For the peace of Jerusalem PRAYER FOR THE PEOPLE / CITIZENS PRAYER FOR THE MEDIA PRAYER FOR CURRENT EVENTS AROUND THE WORLD - For the comfort of the families of 7 people killed in a mining accident in South Africa - For the protection of the people of Hawaii who have been displaced because of volcanic eruptions - For the comfort of families and church family of the 26 people killed in an attack on a church in the Central African Republic. PRAYER REQUESTS Belinda please heal her Yossi please save him and draw him closer to You, for Your grace and favor in his life Dobson please bless him with the Bibles and resources he needs to further the Gospel in Africa THOSE WHO HAVE ACCEPTED CHRIST AS SAVIOR Estelle Janine Vitallis THOSE WHO HAVE RECOMMITTED THEIR LIVES TO CHRIST Hipoltus Sharon Yakubu DEVOTIONAL READING: “Seek God For Yourself,” by Billy Graham Psalm 100:3 says, “Know ye that the Lord he is God; it is he that hath made us, and not we ourselves...” “Whenever anyone asks me how I can be so certain about who and what God really is, I am reminded of the story of the little boy who was out flying a kite. It was a fine day to go kite-flying, the wind was brisk, and large billowy clouds were blowing across the sky. The kite went up and up until it was entirely hidden by the clouds. ‘What are you doing?’ a man asked the little boy. ‘I’m flying a kite,’ he replied. ‘Flying a kite, are you?’ the man said, ‘How can you be sure? You can’t see your kite.’ ‘No,’ said the little boy, ‘I can’t see it, but every little while I feel a tug, so I know for sure that it’s there!’ Don’t take anyone else’s word for God. Find Him for yourself, and then you too will know by the wonderful, warm tug on your heartstring, that He is there, for sure.” - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Now, if you do not know Jesus Christ as your Savior, allow me to show you how you can place your faith and trust in Him for Salvation from sin and Hell. First, accept the fact that you are a sinner, and that you have broken God's law. The Bible says in Romans 3:23: "For all have sinned and come short of the glory of God." Second, accept the fact that there is a penalty for sin. The Bible states in Romans 6:23: "For the wages of sin is death…" Third, accept the fact that you are on the road to hell. Jesus Christ said in Matthew 10:28: "And fear not them which kill the body, but are not able to kill the soul: but rather fear him which is able to destroy both soul and body in hell." Now that is bad news, but here's the good news. Jesus Christ said in John 3:16: "For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life." Just believe in your heart that Jesus Christ died for your sins, was buried, and rose from the dead by the power of God for you so that you can live eternally with Him. Pray and ask Him to come into your heart today, and He will. Romans 10:9 & 13 says, "That if thou shalt confess with thy mouth the Lord Jesus, and shalt believe in thine heart that God hath raised him from the dead, thou shalt be saved… For whosoever shall call upon the name of the Lord shall be saved." If you believe that Jesus Christ died on the Cross for your sins, was buried, and rose from the dead, and you want to trust Him for your Salvation today, please pray with me this simple prayer: Holy Father God, I realize that I am a sinner and that I have done some bad things in my life. I am sorry for my sins, and today I choose to turn from my sins. For Jesus Christ sake, please forgive me of my sins. I believe with all of my heart that Jesus Christ died for me, was buried, and rose again. I trust Jesus Christ as my Savior and I choose to follow Him as Lord from this day forward. Lord Jesus, please come into my heart and save my soul and change my life today. Amen. If you just trusted Jesus Christ as your Saviour, and you prayed that prayer and meant it from your heart, I declare to you that based upon the Word of God, you are now saved from Hell and you are on your way to Heaven. Welcome to the family of God! I want to congratulate you on doing the most important thing in life and that is receiving Jesus Christ as your Lord and Saviour. For more information to help you grow in your newfound faith in Christ, go to Gospel Light Society.com and read "What To Do After You Enter Through the Door". Jesus Christ said in John 10:9, "I am the door: by me if any man enter in, he shall be saved, and shall go in and out, and find pasture." Until next time, May the Lord Bless You!

Daniel Whyte III has spoken in meetings across the United States and in over twenty-five foreign countries. He is the author of over forty books including the Essence Magazine, Dallas Morning News, and Amazon.com national bestseller, Letters to Young Black Men. He is also the president of Gospel Light Society International, a worldwide evangelistic ministry that reaches thousands with the Gospel each week, as well as president of Torch Ministries International, a Christian literature ministry. He is heard by thousands each week on his radio broadcasts/podcasts, which include: The Prayer Motivator Devotional, The Prayer Motivator Minute, as well as Gospel Light Minute X, the Gospel Light Minute, the Sunday Evening Evangelistic Message, the Prophet Daniel’s Report, the Second Coming Watch Update and the Soul-Winning Motivator, among others. He holds a Bachelor’s Degree in Theology from Bethany Divinity College, a Bachelor’s degree in Religion from Texas Wesleyan University, a Master’s degree in Religion, a Master of Divinity degree, and a Master of Theology degree from Liberty University's Rawlings School of Divinity (formerly Liberty Baptist Theological Seminary). He is currently a candidate for the Doctor of Ministry degree. He has been married to the former Meriqua Althea Dixon, of Christiana, Jamaica since 1987. God has blessed their union with seven children.

[grubhivemind]

-- primadonnaTartuffe [PT] began pestering invincibleDetective [ID] at 22:35 -- 

PT: hi hello anybody home?

ID: Not currently. But I'm listening. 

ID: I hear Dorian's home.

PT: yeup. 

PT: there was a heartfelt tearful reunion between him sirius sage and myself outside skaianet building today. dope shit.

ID: Does sound dope. 

ID: I'll have to remember to stop by.

PT: yeah thatd be cool! making yourself like physically available to people is pretty dope sometimes too. 

PT: hey speaking of. 

PT: what the fuck my guy?????????

ID: ...I didn't realize we were in a position to be making these particular demands.

PT: THATS NOT WHAT I MEAN!!!

ID: So what do you mean?

PT: i mean!! 

PT: why have you been avoiding me?

ID: I've been attending to my own affairs. 

ID: Same as you. 

ID: If that includes avoiding you, then I guess we really should reevaluate the double standards being put in place. 

ID: But I mean. 

ID: If you're going to let any asshole come in and wreck what you're trying to accomplish, why settle on me?

PT: wow okay. 

PT: urrgghh. 

PT: listen i know i fucked up but its not exactly something i can atone for if we arent gonna be straight with each other. 

PT: you were acting all dodgy even before that.

ID: And you weren't? 

ID: Let's not pretend either of us has a fucking clue when it comes to jumping to decisions. 

ID: Decisions maybe we weren't ready for. 

ID: But that's neither here nor there. 

ID: I can't hold myself responsible for your feelings or decisions. Only my own. 

ID: You know I'm crazy about you.

ID: I don't want to get pulled back into this cycle.

PT: well FUCK neither do i??? 

PT: i dont want you to hold yourself responsible for me. i never wanted that! 

PT: but you do!!!! thats why im like walking around eggshells around you. 

PT: you cant stand watching me fuck myself over because you cant handle how powerless it makes you feel. thats it isnt it???? get a clue!!!!! 

PT: i 👏 dont 👏 care 👏 about 👏 being 👏 rescued 👏!!! 

PT: IM SICK JACK. so are YOU. and NOBODY can fix us. NOTHING can fix us. 

PT: both our miserable lives are gonna be filled with us fucking up in varying degrees of severity until were lucky enough to finally bite the big one.

ID: That's almost comforting. As if I'm not vividly aware of how everything ends up in the end. 

ID: But if it's all doomed to shit from the beginning, what's the point in trying? 

ID: It sure as hell isn't me you're disappointing. I've had a hard lesson in learning what I'm about. 

ID: And yeah. I'm not about watching you fuck yourself over again. 

ID: All the while, fucking this... relationship over because neither of us are equipped to handle the reality. 

ID: It isn't about getting fixed. It's about managing and coping enough to live another day. 

ID: That's what you should be focusing on. And what I should be helping you with. 

ID: It sucks that I'm not. And it sucks that you wouldn't let me if I tried. 

ID: So again. What's the point?

PT: arrgghh what the fuck??? 

PT: jack im not trying to shut you out!!! that isnt what i mean. 

PT: youve BEEN helping me. ever since i got back youve been nothing but supportive. 

PT: christ i feel awful about relapsing. i know how it looks. 

PT: but youve made a difference. everyones made a difference. 

PT: i fucked up. thats on me. i want to own up to it instead of running away from it like i always used to. im tired of being that way. 

PT: and i definitely dont wanna run away from something good cuz im afraid of breaking it. 

PT: because when im without it i know exactly what im missing out on. and i know its worth holding onto. 

PT: ... jack. can i please just talk to you in person?

ID: Depends. 

ID: Are you sober?

PT: :/

PT: yes.

ID: I'll make it back to the apartment later on today.

PT: alright. ill be around.

JACK: -Some hours later, Jack makes his way back to the apartment. Coming from who knows where, that detail wasn't important. Anger was still burning like acid in his belly, which he thought was better than the exhaustion that was threatening to overcome him. It was so much better than being detached and absent from the conflict.- 

JACK: -Lumbers into the apartment, apprehension tense on his face and his shoulders.-

RYAN: -she's waiting on the couch, clicking through space netflix or whatever mindlessly while she's waiting for jack to show up, failing miserably to keep herself distracted when all the things she wants to say keep running through her frustrated mind. she's alone, since sage is catching up with her previously absentee twin, and when she hears jack come in she jumps a little in her seat.- 

RYAN: -looks over at him, squaring her shoulders.- ... hey.

JACK: I'm home. -states like that's not obvious. Closes the door behind him, channeling more of that apprehension as he continues to hover by the entrance hall.- Now what. 

JACK: Pleasantries?

RYAN: no. -crap... what DOES she say now? there's too much she wants to say, it's impossible to know where to begin.- 

RYAN: ... can i start by saying im sorry?

JACK: Sorry for... -tries to grasp for words for her.- 

JACK: Falling off the bandwagon? Or... 

JACK: -drags a hand down his face.- Being mutually fucking awful at this feelings thing?

RYAN: i mean... 

RYAN: both kinda? 

RYAN: -looks away with a sigh.- im sorry i always keep this shit to myself. 

RYAN: its like i know people are there for me and i know i can reach them if i need to but ive kinda been lacking the discretion to know when and how and... 

RYAN: i was hanging out with sage the other day and we talked about a lot of things. i dont wanna say i had an EPIPHANY like suddenly everything makes sense and i know how to be a better person whos better at communicating! 

RYAN: but i guess it did help me figure out what i need right now. 

RYAN: so im sorry for holding you at arms length. me being afraid is no excuse to run. if anything its the opposite. -shrugs. she doesn't think it means much just to say these things, but that's about all she can do right now.-

JACK: -It's true. None of this was actually succeeding in making him feel better. For as much as Ryan tried to make sense of the mess of her brain, Jack was having an equally fucking time wading through the muck in his own. He rubs at his neck and shoulder, uncomfortable and uncertain of how the hell he should be behaving.- So... 

JACK: What is it you need?

RYAN: i need to quit being so fucking selfish. -sighs- 

RYAN: because i AM. im stubborn and i hide and i complicate things because i think its better for everyone to try and distance myself and forget about all pain ive caused people. 

RYAN: i need to just... listen to people. really listen to what it means when they say theyre there for me. 

RYAN: it sucks and i feel like a burden but whatever. i have to keep truckin.

JACK: -He feels ill having these things laid out in front of him. Again, he told himself. The word felt scalding and brutal even as he thought it. How the shit he was supposed to make sense of her efforts versus his own (???), Jack had no idea. He exhales painfully, his expression tight.- 

JACK: Where does all this leave me? I have no idea what the hell I'm doing. Or what I'm supposed to be doing. 

JACK: Not that I expect you to know but... fuck. 

JACK: -wrings his hands about. Exasperated. Unable to express or even TELL what he was feeling.- We're a fucking mess.

RYAN: -watches the way the confused emotions twist painfully in his expression and mannerisms and matches it with her own.- 

RYAN: ... i know. 

RYAN: but baby you-- youve been doing good... 

RYAN: when i came back home i barely recognized you. you seemed so much more content with yourself and just. -gestures widly.- life! 

RYAN: im not saying i thought you had it all together but shit you made so much progress. -sighs- it made me feel like... i wasnt completely hopeless. it inspired me i guess. especially when you told me... the worst was over. 

RYAN: -runs a hand through her hair- what im saying is i dont think you need to do anything different from what youve been doing. 

RYAN: i just want to be a part of that. without being afraid of fucking it all up for you. 

RYAN: ... i dunno if that makes sense.

JACK: -blind eyes focus and tense at spaces he can't see. Picturing what her face might look like just by her tone of voice.- I can't stand here and pretend like it doesn't make sense. It does, Ryan. 

JACK: But at what cost? We work our asses off to get to a place where we're at least semi-functional, just to... throw it all out of the fucking window as soon as these impossible standards our sick heads start putting into our minds. 

JACK: Jesus fuck! -whips at his forehead, more exasperated than before. His voice echoes off the walls of the apartment.- I turn you into a symbol. You stop being a person, more like someone I have to warp myself to accommodate and-- 

JACK: It's wrong! It's so fucking WRONG that I'm the one that fucks it up for us. Why do we keep letting it get like this?? Why do you keep excusing it?? -hand flops to his side then, like a dead weight as scornfully, he turns his head.- 

JACK: Why can't I just. 

JACK: Be there for you? -scuffs his boot at the ground. The picture of unhappiness.-

RYAN: -at some point she's gotten to her feet, only to wind up stuck in place like she isn't sure where her restlessness wants to take her. instead, she passes her hands through her hair a few times, trying to figure out the answers to all the questions tumbling out of him.- 

RYAN: ... but you have been there for me. 

RYAN: youve been helping me stay on track all this while. whenever i thought i felt myself slipping id go to you cuz i knew youd understand and-- christ. 

RYAN: you literally saved me from getting jumped and who the fuck knows what else mightve happened to me that night. 

RYAN: you said it already... you arent the only who whos been distancing themselves. im not excusing shit. nothing im not doing too. -focuses on him again, taking steps towards him, touching whatever furniture she slowly passes by.- 

RYAN: im scared of dragging you down. im too much work. im scared im poison. 

RYAN: do you see me that way?

JACK: -As her voice floats closer, he finds his weight sagging until his shoulder presses by the hallway wall. Allowing her to approach with his tone nothing more than a mutter.- God damn it... 

JACK: Can't talk to you when you're like this... -says... and despite the words, Jack is wistful.-

RYAN: -huffs a little when she stops, keeping a short distance between them. her hands fiddle with her hair again nervously, but she still watches him carefully.- like what?

JACK: Vulnerable and approachable. And shit. -mumbles around a lopsided crack of a smile. At nothing in particular but if only Jack could see the cute uncertain look on her face. He'd sweep her up right then and there. Instead, he sighs.-

RYAN: -expression softens at the sight of his smile, and it tugs at her heart strings something painful.- ... shut up. im always tough. ill fight you right now. -sad as she is, she has to laugh a little. but when it quickly subsides, she sobers up again.- 

RYAN: jack... -exhales- 

RYAN: you know im not perfect.

RYAN: ive come and gone from your life so many times. everyones lives. i kept things from you. i did it back then and i started doing it again. 

RYAN: of course youre scared or upset. you just wanna help me. 

RYAN: but youre hurt too. youre mad. youre allowed to be. i want you to be. 

RYAN: dont idealize me. and i wont do that to you. 

RYAN: i just... think we can take the ugliness with the good too. i think its worth it.

JACK: -the weariness starts to tug at his expression again... But ultimately, he nods.- Makes sense logically. 

JACK: But ironically, I can't trust myself to know that is how I'm supposed to see things. Not always.

JACK: I'm blind, if you would. To those things. 

JACK: Wraps up pretty-like in the context, if you ask me.

RYAN: -scoffs a little, but she nods.- ... i get that. in a way. 

RYAN: like people tell me all the time i shouldnt feel bad. that im trying and thats all that matters and i should be proud of myself for the progress ive made. 

RYAN: -shrugs- but im not. not really. you know? 

RYAN: i believe what people tell me its just... not as easy to tell myself and believe that.

RYAN: i bury it i guess. so that i dont have to figure out how i really feel about it.

JACK: -closes his eyes and nods sagely. His answer delivered in an equally sage-like way.- It's honest-to-god funnel fry style horseshit.

RYAN: -dammit, she's smiling again. rude ass...- pretty much. 

RYAN: its gonna take a lil more than powdered sugar to make this mess prettier. 

RYAN: ... i never meant to rush into things again. 

RYAN: but i blame our fuckin ridiculous chemistry for that tbh. 

RYAN: i just... wanna be a part of your life. in whatever way i fit into it that works.

JACK: Mmmm. -scratches idly at his chin and neck.- 

JACK: I was personally going to blame the mad crazy ape banana monkey sex dreams you were having. 

JACK: There's been worse reasons to rush into shit, I'm sure.

RYAN: shut up?????? obviously i was avoiding that embarrassingly telling topic you insensitive bitch. -SHOVES HIM, but gently.- 

RYAN: god we are pathetic.

JACK: Ask anyone. Couldn't be a straight shooter if I tried. -reaches for the hands that shove him. Squeezing at them just as gently.- 

JACK: Insensitive bitch is my maiden name.

RYAN: is your middle name stupid ho? -looks at the hands holding hers, heart fluttering suddenly. dammit. she squeezes back till her fingers interlace with his.-

JACK: Ass. It's stupid "ass" ho. -slender fingers fit so thin and perfect beneath his own. He can tell by the simple touch.-

RYAN: ohhhh damn. i was so close. -shuffles her feet a little before she closes some of the distance still between them, resting her head against his shoulder wearily.- 

RYAN: what happens now?

JACK: -grasping at straws, really. He was about to ask her the same question himself. What Jack does do, is bring his arms around her shoulders. Holding her.- Get our respective shits together, I'm hoping. 

JACK: But honestly... 

JACK: Who fucking knows.

RYAN: yeah. -exhales again, trying not to overthink it all, but also not to flee from the uncertainty. it simply is. and in some way, eventually, it'll be alright. she squeezes her arms around him too, savoring what she can of the moment.- 

RYAN: i still think you were onto something back then. 

RYAN: about the worst being over with.

JACK: Maybe... -rests his cheek against her hair.- 

JACK: I wouldn't trust a word that past asshole of me might have said. 

JACK: He's been known to bullshit.

RYAN: -peeks up at him.- goddammit jack stupid ass ho insensitive bitch-crocker...

JACK: -Her peeks give him the opportunity to nuzzle, burying his nose in the short locks of her hair.- Hm... 

JACK: You smell pretty.

RYAN: smell ALL you want. -giggling again, she can't help to take advantage of the proximity -and brush her lips against his cheek in a chaste kiss.-

JACK: Some of the few things I'm reduced to, in my condition. -the smooch on his cheek has him tilting his head that way, reflexively going for a peck to her lips. Unfortunately, the whole execution ends up clumsy and he kisses at her chin instead. Wasted... and realizing what he's doing.- 

JACK: ...Sorry. -diddles between staying and pulling away, the arms turning slack around her shoulders.-

RYAN: -clumsy, but so sweet. she wants to go even less, perhaps against her better judgement. and she doesn't seem to budge much either.- dont be sorry. 

RYAN: but also same.

JACK: -Well someone has to show self control, he tells himself. Or try to. Arms peel from her shoulders until he can rest his hands there. It's then that he leans in again... and kisses at the top of her head.-

RYAN: -her heart sinks when they unfold from each other, but the bittersweet kiss to her forehead serves as another reminder that things will be okay. while he rests his hands on her shoulders, hers find his cheeks, framing him in such a way that he has to know she's looking him right in his smoky eyes.- 

RYAN: ... i love you. -she just needs to remind him.-

JACK: -with delicate palms taking his face, he can almost picture the pretty maroon of her eyes. Maybe his face ends up saying so... but Jack just can't bring himself to figure out what the words meant. If only he could give her the right reply.- That is really.... 

JACK: Enough. 

JACK: It's enough... for us. For now. -says, but not without hesitance. Like he's jumping on a gamble again.-

RYAN: -brushes her thumbs over his skin gently in one last attempt to reassure.- yeah. 

RYAN: it is. -says quietly, but with enough certainty for the both of them. again, for now. she finally draws her hands away then, stepping out from his personal space.- 

RYAN: im gonna... head home now.

JACK: -feels pretty chilly with her hands gone.- ...You sure?

Jake English's #1 Fan-Last Friday at 3:44 AM

RYAN: ... no.

RYAN: i mean i dont want to. -full body shrugging.- 

RYAN: do you... want me to stay?

JACK: Yeah? I mean... 

JACK: Hm. -looks up and around now- 

JACK: I actually don't know what time it is. 

JACK: Or if it's late.

RYAN: -snorts.- its a lil late yeah. 

RYAN: alright then. ill just crash here.

JACK: Our couch might as well have an imprint with your ass on it. Now that you mention it. -brushes by her to lumber deeper into the living room. Hand passing by the furniture as he does so.- Actually I mentioned that. 

JACK: Don't take credit for it.

RYAN: jack mentioning my ass... what a surprise. -watches him before following.- 

RYAN: i will take credit for the perfection of this imprint though. -plops onto the couch and wiggles like she's nestling into the imaginary indent (or is it.)-

JACK: Maybe I should take the couch for a change. -he can imagine what shes doing and is enjoying the imagery.- You can pirate my room.

RYAN: oh? then move bitch im tired of crashing on couches. -unwiggles back onto her feet.- 

RYAN: enjoy the lingering shape of my booty.

JACK: I'll try to not let it lead to anything risque. -fuck you, he's still going into his room. He needs a shower after all.-

RYAN: what you do on your couch is your business. -scampers into the room after him, immediately flopping into the bed so she can get cozy. she's a burrito. it's really a shame he can't see.- :relaxed:

JACK: Touche. -Truely the tragedy of the evening that he can't see. Jack busies himself by fishing for pajamas.- Same goes for what you do on my bed. My business. 

JACK: -And with that he leaves.- Go the fuck to sleep.

RYAN: yeah yeah... goodnight. -hate to see him go, love to watch him leave. :eyes: she rolls deeper into blankets onto her side, letting herself relax enough that she actually gets some restful sleep. it's easy when the sheets smell like him.-