#just a drawering ... can't stand faggots ...

[hexamoron]

can I offer you a nice lamp in this trying time

[plutodeclassified]

rudolph fentz, the man from taured, and i: rivers & gates, pt 1

"As Einstein himself pointed out. He said we're like people in a boat without oars drifting along a winding river. Around us we see only the present. We can't see the past, back in the bends and curves behind us. But it's there." — Jack Finney, Time and Again

James Herondale can't believe he's doing this. This is the second or third time this week that he's found himself picking Matthew up from a mundane police station. He recieved a note passed on by an Irregular telling him that Matthew's been arrested, this time for getting drunk (as usual) and punching a mundane who'd called him a faggot (less usual, and James finds himself angry on Matthew's behalf). Nobody else is around to collect him, and Shadowhunters aren't supposed to get tangled up in the mundane legal system, so James has to go and get him home before he's stuck in a cell long enough for the policemen to realize something's off.

"You here to pick up the drunk or the girl?" the bailiff asks when James walks into the station rubbing his arms and hoping the persuasion runes on his wrists are working.

"You're taking both of us!" Matthew yells at him in Welsh from the station's cell. "I'm not going anywhere without the other man!"

"I'm sorry," says James, "what?"

"I made a friend here," Matthew continues, "and you're bailing him out, too!"

James says, "I'm taking both of them."

The bailiff gives him a weird sort of look, but he gets his keys and lets both people out of the cell—Matthew, and a very small, bespectacled young man about their age, carrying a grey canvas satchel. He looks a little odd to say the least, with his brimmed black cap and straight, thick short hair, which is a decidedly not-normal shade of mahogany red.

"Thanks," he says. "The absolute last say I wanted to end today was getting booked into a mundane police station for crossdressing and public indecency." He indicates his blue pullover shirt (printed with a gigantic yellow cartoon tabby attacking a city, and the word Catzilla) and black denim trousers with some dismay. "I'm not even indecent. Everything is covered." He turns to the bailiff. "Excuse me? Sir?"

The bailiff regards him with some concern. "Yes?"

"Uh, where's my bicycle? You impounded it when I got here, please tell me you've still got it."

The bailiff grumbles, rummages in his desk drawer, hands him a small ring of keys (his own, no doubt, from the look of them, not at all like any string of keys James has seen before), and points him to a barred window, against which he's locked a burgundy-colored bicycle of an unfamiliar style.

"Thank you." He flashes the bailif a grateful smile, unlocks the bicycle, and rolls it from the station onto the sidewalk outside, as if just expecting the two Shadowhunters to follow.

"Math," says James, "who is this? And why is it so dreadfully important that he come with us?"

"He's a Shadowhunter, Jamie," Matthew answers. "Like us."

"Well, sort of like you," he amends. "Not quit. I've got faerie blood on my mother's side." He puts down the kickstand on his bicycle so he can let go, turns around, and offers James a handshake, displaying the Voyance rune on the back of his left hand. "Pluto Lochlyn Westhouse. I'm a time traveler from the 21st Century."

For a moment, James just stands there, stunned. He doesn't accept Pluto's handshake. He says, "Prove it."

"Fine," says Matthew, "but let's do that back at the Devil, it's freezing out here."

The Devil Tavern. Second floor. Headquarters. The roof leaks. It's freezing. The time traveler James and Matthew brought back with them doesn't seem to care. He sinks into one of the room's self-dismantling armchairs and hugs his satchel to his chest as the Thieves disperse themselves around the room, settling into sofas and chairs. Christopher takes a seat next to him. He was here already with Thomas when the time traveler arrived, and the introductions were a mix of shock and awe from everyone.

The time traveler smells like salt and sage and cedar and something foreign he doesn't think exists in this decade. He looks at Christopher and gives him a tiny, weak sort of smile and promptly looks away again.

"So you're telling me," James says, "that you're from the year 2024."

He paces back and forth in front of the fireplace. Christopher can guess he's trying to think over the initial panic they're all steeped in, that worry of how is interacting with him going to mess up our future, and, the Inquisitor is going to have us all killed for this.

"Yes," says Pluto. "Around this time, too. The end of August, start of September." His voice is small with cold and distress.

James turns around. "And you said you got here by . . . Portal accident?"

"Yeah." Pluto's shoulders bend in a little. "My dad and I were traveling back from Taigh Liath, we'd just been up to visit my grandparents for the summer, and I stepped through the Portal and came out the outlet side in completely the wrong city, over a hundred years into the past."

"And I'm supposed to believe this because . . ."

"I don't think he's lying," says Christopher.

"You don't?" says James.

"No, look." Christopher holds out a hand to Pluto, who stares back at him with wary eyes the color of a storm coming in. "Could I have one of your boots? Please?"

Cautiously, Pluto unlaces one of his boots and removes it. The foot inside is small, encased in a thick, warm-looking black sock. Christopher wonders absently if the sock is wool, or some next-millennium fabric he's never heard of. He wonders what twenty-first century toes look like. Do they paint the nails, the way Pluto's fingernails are painted a dark, metallic shade of purple, near to black?

Christopher takes the boot, turns it over, frowns at it, sniffs it. There it is again, that odd, faint, bitter smell he's never encountered before: almost like the scent of rubber, but not quite. The fabric feels strange under his hands, and when he presses on the thick sole, it's indeed almost but not quite like rubber, and it yields ever so slightly if he really pushes. Pieces of it are a vivid shade of acid-dye purple. He hands the boot to James. "Have you ever seen material like that before?"

"No," says James, "I haven't."

"See?" says Christopher. "Just look at Pluto—half of what he's wearing doesn't exist yet. And I've never seen a bicycle quite like his before, either."

"It's electric," says Pluto. "Look, I can prove it further, but I want my boot back."

James passes the boot to Christopher, and Christopher passes it to Pluto. Pluto puts the boot back on, laces it up and double knots it, opens up their satchel, and removes a flat black slab with a dull surface and a shiny one. He presses a raised key on the side and half the inside lights up with a bright, witchlight-like glow, revealing a strange, cluttered image he can't properly process.

"It's called a tablet," Matthew says. "He showed it to me, too."

Christopher finds himself annoyed, though he can't say exactly why.

"What does it do?" James asks.

"Lots and lots of things," says Pluto. "It has an encyclopedia, a newspaper, a travel guide, a library . . . it calculates mathematics, publishes writing, plays movies and music, you can even use it to draw. All at the same time, even. Or, it did. In order to do half of that it needs something called a server, to connect it to a bunch of other computers—the connection is called the Internet, and without the internet it can't do quite as much. Oh, and the screen is touch sensitive. That's how you use it."

Christopher leans closer, wanting to pick up the strange machine and turn it over and inspect it. He wants, suddenly and without reason, to do the same to Pluto's hands.

When he first heard the words 'time traveler,' Christopher hadn't expected the future to look like a half-faerie with dyed bloodred hair. He hadn't expect to find himself as fascinated with Pluto's smile and his voice and the flutter of his long hands as with the materials that make up his strange synthetic clothes and the odd, unfamiliar technology he brings with him. For the first time, Christopher looks at someone and he wants to touch: to rub the material of Pluto's clothes between his fingers to see how it differs from the fabrics available to him here, to see how the dye changes the composition of his hair, to lay his hand to Pluto's cheek and see if 21st Century skin feels the same as his own does in his decade.

"So we need to think about how to get you home," James says, interrupting Christopher before he can ask to do any of those things, or start asking any more questions. "Unless you plan on staying here."

Pluto shakes his head. "If you'd asked me before I arrived here, I'd say yes, absolutely, I'm staying. But it's different when your dad's back home in your own time period, wondering where you are."

"I'm not going to send you to the Clave," James says. "I trust Charlotte and I trust my parents but I wouldn't trust Inquisitor Bridgestock with this situation and if the Clave gets involved, he's going to be involved. And I don't need him trying to lock anyone away in the Silent City for accidental timeline violations."

"Good," Pluto says. "I think you'll find I don't trust the Clave much either. So then who?"

"Well, Magnus Bane is in town. We'll start with him. He's friends with Ragnor Fell, who is an expert in dimensional magic. Between the two of them they should be able to find a way to send you back."

"One more thing," says Pluto. "I'm not sitting this out. I can and will do a Jim Rockford and go around you guys if I have to. I want you to tell me what all's going on, and if I have something to say, I want to be listened to."

"Why wouldn't we listen to you?" Christopher asks.

"Because I can't—because I'm from the future? Because sometimes my ideas are batshit crazy and they really don't work? Like . . . when I first got here, I assumed I had to have somehow done it myself."

"How would you Portal yourself into the past?" Thomas asks. "You're a Shadowhunter. You haven't got that kind of magic. That doesn't make any sense."

"Well, I'm half banshee, but even then . . . yeah, you're right, I don't have magic that could do that." Pluto takes a deep breath. "Okay. So there's this guy, he'd be about, I don't know, five years old right now, anyway, his name's Albert Einstein and he's a really important figure in mundane history—he's also a huge meme, but that's beside the point. Anyway, Einstein thought that time . . . time isn't so much directly linear as it is like a river, or a road. You and whatever wind and water and things are with you, you're going one way. And you can't look back and see the past behind you. But it's still there. It's not . . . gone. So then there's this other guy, his name's Jack Finney, and he wrote a book called Time and Again, where they try to use hypnotherapy to send someone into the past. I thought I must've accidentally done in real life what they did in fiction: I'm in the middle of some deep research into the Van Meter cryptid sightings, which took place in 1903, and I drove myself through a Portal into 1903."

"That sounds highly improbable," says Christopher. "You haven't considered, at all, the possibility that someone else brought you here? Perhaps on purpose?"

"I'm beginning to now," says Pluto. He sinks back into his chair and pulls his feet up onto the seat, hugging his knees to his chest. "I do think it's a bit too nice of a coincidence that the stranded accidental time traveler just so happens to end up in the exact same police station cell as another Shadowhunter—someone who could potentially help me. Speaking of which, I need to go change before I contract hypothermia or get myself arrested again."

"I can send for my sister," James offers. "She might have something we can borrow. I need to tell her I'll be home late anyway—I'll say we have a blood-soaked werewolf, she'll believe it."

"Thank you," says Pluto, unfolding himself from the chair, "but I've got clothes of my own. It gets cold in Scotland in the summer and that is where I was."

"I do have to go downstairs, still," James says, rising to his feet. "If you'd like anything?"

"I don't know. Maybe some hot broth?"

James smiles. "Hot broth it is." He steps out and shuts the door.

"I," says Matthew, "am going downstairs too, to get a drink. This is entirely too much excitement for me. Thomas, scientist, science fiction—good day." He stops in the doorway and offers them all a little bow before he shuts the door.

"Science fiction?" Pluto says, and bursts out laughing.

"Well," says Christopher, "technically you're science fact now."

Thomas bends forward in his chair, rubbing at his chin. "Are all people in the 21st Century like this? So . . . forceful?"

"Oh, no. We have all kinds of people in the 21st Century, loud and quiet, forceful and passive . . . that's part of why I have trouble wrapping my head around why I'm the one that was brought here, from that time. There are so many other Shadowhunters right now who would love to take my place. And most of them—most of them would be much, much better representatives of life in the future."

Christopher tilts his head. "I suppose you're not allowed to tell us anything about the future, then."

"I think it's reasonably safe to say things about the mundane future to you Shadowhunters, since you disconnect yourselves deliberately from it anyways, you're not involved in mundane politics, in their scandals and wars. But I can never, ever tell you about the Downworld's future. Ever. So don't you ever dare ask me about it." Pluto shakes her head. "Though, the mundane future . . . I suppose, if you had questions, I could give you little bits and pieces of information. Just not dates and times or anything. I can tell you about the research I've been doing, since that's not really about the future so much—they exist back here, too."

"Research?" asks James, stepping back into the room, with Matthew right behind him.

"I've spent the past year dedicated to an intensive study of holler goblins."

"Holler goblins," says James.

"Yeah. Cave-dwelling goblins. Kelly-Hopkinsville incident. I never received any proper Shadowhunter training so I've had time to learn more about and try to contact these goblins. We've made so much headway in Nephilim-Downworlder relations, it seems a shame we haven't made any meaningful connection with them yet. They're very reclusive but the legend is they're very powerful, and I think they may have interesting things to share. I met Dash because their research into potential uses for mundane ghost hunting equipment started overlapping with my anthropological study of the goblins."

"Into what now?" says Matthew.

The door bangs open. Lucie stands on the threshold. She walks into the room, stops dead, and glares accusingly at James. "You said you had a blood-soaked werewolf," she says. "That is definitely not a blood-soaked werewolf."

"I wasn't expecting you to follow me here," James says, wincing. "I was hoping to keep this under wraps."

"Keep what under wraps?" says Lucie. "James, who is this?"

Pluto gets to his feet and offers Lucie a handshake. "Hi. I'm Pluto Lochlyn Westhouse. I'm a time traveler from the 21st Century."

[faghubby]

Stretched boi pussy.

Judy became fasanated at what she could make me take up my ass. It wasn't planned when She accidentally bought this huge ribbed plug it was like it had stages at first she laughed about her mistake. But one afternoon I did something, properly made an inappropriate remark. I really don't remember. Judy sent me to our room. ( we had codes. Like she would of said "could you go change the sheets for me"

"Take some time sitting on the big red plug to think about it" she whispered to me. I went to the bedroom. She remained downstairs with the kids watching a movie. I was upstairs thinking about what I had did. Fucking myself with this enormous toy. Taking most of it.

"You are not supposed to be enjoying it, it is a punishment." She informed me. "Sit still" I did

"Omg, look how much you have inside you" she said in amazement .

"Take more, to the next rest point" she commanded. I tried to work more in. I was so full then it slid past the thick part and set to the next level.

"You fucking faggot, you have 8 inches stuffed up your ass" she had me stand. I felt empty?

"I can fit 4 fingers inside you. Maybe 5" she said pushing her fingers in.

I had bought her some really big dildos over the years. I loved fucking her with them. But since she had started cuckolding me. She didn't let me use them so much anymore. She went to her drawer and pulled out his 12 inch dildo that was 2 and 1/2 inch thick. She bent me over and lubed it up working it into my stretched hole. It felt amazing. As worked more and more in. When she could only get about 10 inches inside me she seemed disappointed. She sat an ordered even bigger plugs. The panties she had me wear whenever she was with one of her lovers now became 24/7. "Since you like it up the ass, might ad well dress like you do"

A few days later we are at her friend's house. I am helping her hang curtains. When I over hear Judy tell Julie how I can take huge dildos in my ass. "He has a thick plug in his ass right now" Judy says as they come in the room behind me. I am on a step stool and I feel her hands push on the plug. I moan loudly as I leak into my panties. Luckily Judy as made me wear a pantyliner for just this reason.

"When was the last time he had sex?" Julie asked.

"OH you mean like been inside me? Years" Judy told her.

"Years, really that is amazing " Julie kept staring at my crotch and ass.

"Paulie, show her" Judy told me. I looked at her pleading. But one look made me obey. I dropped my pants. Julie gasped and giggled at my little pink panties.

"Do you have a boyfriend?" Julie asked.

"No, I mean I might let him suck a man's cock. But that ass is mine" Judy laughed smacking my ass. "Now take off those pants and finish hanging the curtains in your panties, maybe the neighbors will see" Judy ordered. I did as she said. As Judy and Julie talked and laughed.

"You liked Julie seeing you in your panties didn't you?" Judy commented. I didn't answer just kept my head down as Judy drove us home. I had not said a word to her since she had made me show Julie.

"Are you mad at me?" She asked.

"I just can't believe you told Julie" I answered.

"She is my best friend, we have know each other since 5th grade. She isn't going to say anything to anyone. Don't worry" Judy assured me.

"Can I take the plug out now?" I asked as we arrived home.

"I thought you liked big things in your ass?" Judy teased but allowed me to remove it. As I was cleaning myself up Judy came up behind me and pushed several fingers in me. I just tried not to fall over as she did.

"Now go sit in the timeout chair, for getting mad at me" she told me. I went into the bedroom to see had placed the big red toy on the chair. I lowered myself on it after wearing the plug for several hours I was stretched and it slid in easy. But still stopped at the bigger size.

"The kids will be home in 20 minutes. You are to remain there until they get home." Judy told me and left me alone. I found myself bouncing on the toy again. As my soft penis dripped cum. I must of been moaning because Judy came back in.

"What are you doimg?" She pushed my shoulders driving the toy in even deeper. It hurt and tears formed in my eyes.

"This is punishment" she reminded me. I wrapped my arms around her.

"What now you want attention" she said. She stepped away I watched as she went into the closet. When she emerged she was carrying some clothes.

"When the kids get home you can put these on before you come out of the bedroom." She told me before she left the room again. My legs where cramped and my ass hurt when I heard my sons voice from downstairs. I quickly stood and cleaned up. Only then did I look at the clothes Judy had laid out. There was a pair of her jeans. And a pale blue t-shirt I was pretty sure was hers as well. Along with a pink thong. I wasn't sure about this but knew she would find a new way to punish me if I didn't put them on. As I pulled up the jeans I realized they were low cut barely covering my ass. They also where a bit loose in the hips. So I had to wear a belt. I made sure the thong wasn't pulled up to high. The shirt seemed fine but the sleeves where shorter and the neck line lower. I tried to walk normal as I went downstairs. My ass still on fire. Judy just giggled when she saw me. My son didn't notice and was telling me about how he had hit a homerun. Even if it was just practice. His big sister gave me a double look as she hugged me but didn't say a word just went to her room. She must of noticed what I was wearing I thought. Panic seemed to grip me.

In Judy's way of asking although telling she had me start some laundry. I knocked on my daughter's door.

"Kat any dirty clothes, just going to start the washer" I said as she opened the door. She went and handed me a basket.

"Don't worry dad, mom explained what you are into" she told me as she looked to make sure my son didn't overhear. Again panic hit me. Kat just put her finger to my lips and smiled. I stepped into her room and closed the door.

"What do you mean?" I asked in hush tones.

"Dad? You are wearing mom's clothes, and I know she sleeps with other guys" Kat said. I went flush no idea what to say to my 16 year old daughter.

"Dad, your secret safe with me" she told me. I rushed out of the room and found Judy. I quietly asked her about what she had told Kat.

"She isn't a little kid anymore. She sees things" Judy told me. Judy then dismissed me as I went to start the laundry along with several other tasks Judy had me do. As we sat and had dinner Judy commented she would be going out this evening. Kat looked at me and smiled. I spent the night playing video games with Nick out son. Kat also went out that night.

"Paul, could you help me" Judy said as she came home. I left Nick downstairs playing games. Judy was naked by the time I got to the room. I knew what she expected and licked another man's cum from her used pussy. I didn't stop until she came.

"In the closet, put on the pink night gown" Judy said as I finished. I got up and found the nighty it was a long satin gown. I changed into it leaving on my thong.

"I am so glad you seem to except wearing my clothes" Judy said she pulled me to her taking the big spoon place. She grabbed the remote and turned on the TV. I was surprised when she turned on porn. As I watched she rubbed me thru the nighty. First my ass and thighs then my penis. I looked at the TV. It was gay porn I realized as I watched a big black man fucking a whitethink.

"Would you like that to happen to you?" Judy asked. As she teased me.

" I don't..... yes I moaned yes" I said as she pinched my nipples.

"I know baby it's okay. You don't have to be manly for me anymore " Judy continued.

"Let all the manliness go" she told me as she had me cum in the panties and nightie.

"You made a mess" she didn't let me get up instead held me making me sleep in dirty panties.

Wnen I woke up Judy was sitting up in bed.

"You like it too much having your ass stretched, so I think maybe we should start a new form of punishment" Judy informed me. I was a bit startled by this first thing. What had I done I thought

"Now you need to be punished for not telling me how much you wanted your ass stretched, wear my clothes, and cum to gay porn." Judy told me. Before I could say anything she produced my belt.

"Get up and bend over the chair" she ordered. She lifted the nightgown exposing my ass. She stood completely naked. And held the belt. She pushed her dirty panties in my mouth before she unleashed 12 lashes across my ass. She then held me as I cried.

"I know its okay to cry like a little bitch" Judy told me. She rubbed a cooling lotion on my ass as she did.

"You are going to start sucking men's cocks" Judy told me. Maybe eventually let men use that ass of yours.

It was a few weeks later that I found myself on my knees sucking a cock thru a glory hole. As Judy waited in the car in a local park bathroom. It would not be the last time I had a cock in my mouth. A year later I found myself meeting a man at his house. And submitting to him as he fucked my ass for the first time.

[areyoureddieforittaylorsversion]

The King - Chapter One

Okay, so, first of all, before I get to the actual story, I should probably give y'all content warnings. In this story, (not necessarily in this chapter), there will be smut, homophobia, homophobic language, underage drinking/smoking, and possible mentions of self harm. If any of this makes you uncomfortable, please don't read! That being said, I hope you like it. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Eddie wakes up to The Cure blasting in his ear like he always does. Fucking Richie. Forcing him to listen to his stupid music so early in the morning. He pushes the headphones off of his head, letting his Walkman clatter to the ground beside his bed. 

He rubs his hands over his face before he sits up, moving his blanket off. He stands up, running his hands through his hair. Eddie never likes waking up so early. His limbs feel heavy and his head hurts.

He walks over to his dresser, pulling his shirt over his head before looking through his drawer for another one. Before he can actually find one, he hears the familiar knock at his window. Richie. He does this every morning.

Sure, his mom probably wouldn't let him in. She doesn't like Richie very much. Says he's a queer and that you shouldn't be hanging out with a boy like that, Eddie and I will not let him in my house. But she can't stop him from seeing him when he wants, so he climbs in through Eddie's window. 

Eddie sighs before walking over to the window and opening it, popping the screen out of the sill so Richie can climb in.

"Hey, Eds." Richie says with a grin, swinging his legs inside his room. "Nice tits."

Eddie rolls his eyes, grabbing a shirt and tugging it over his head. "Fuck off." 

"You're feisty today, Eds." Richie says with a laugh, standing up and messing with his hair. 

Don't let that dirty boy touch you, Eddie. You know what it does. 

Eddie frowns, folding his arms over his chest and walking over to his bed, picking up his Walkman off the floor. 

"Why're you here, Rich?" Eddie asks, holding it to his chest. 

"What? I need an excuse to see my best friend?" Richie asks with a grin.

Don't listen to what he says, Eddie. He's just trying to make you queer too. It's all lies. All lies, Eddie, do you hear me?

"When you're sneaking in through my window, yeah." Eddie says. 

"Sneaking is a strong word." Richie says. "I just like to see you and your mom, as much as she likes me in bed, doesn't seem to like me much elsewhere."

Don't do it, Eddie.

"Shut up." Eddie says, setting his Walkman on his bedside table. 

"You ready for school, my love?" Richie asks, holding out his arm like he's inviting him to prom.

Don't be like him. You're not like that, Eddie. 

"Yeah, just gotta grab my bag." Eddie says, walking around his bed and slinging his backpack over his shoulder. "Be quiet, we have to go out the front door."

"Sure thing, sweetcheeks." Richie says, throwing an arm around his shoulder.

You're not like him. You're not a faggot, Eddie. You're my son.

They walk quietly down the stairs and reach the kitchen before Eddie's mom shouts for him.

"Eddie-bear, are you leaving?"

You're a good boy, Eddie, don't let him ruin that.

"Yeah, Ma, just leaving for school!" He calls after her, covering Richie's mouth so he doesn't say anything stupid. 

"Alright, be careful!" 

"I will!" He says before grabbing Richie's hand instead and tugging him out the door. 

He'll get you in trouble, Eddie. You know what happens to people like him.

"You really wanted me to be quiet, huh?" Richie laughs. 

"I can't risk my mom finding out what you do every morning." Eddie says, glancing over at him.

Fuck.

You know what happens to queers, Eddie. You know what happens and you know they deserve it.

Richie is smiling at him with that stupid grin. God, he's so fucking pretty it's not even fair. He doesn't give Eddie even a chance to be straight with the way his fucking eyes shine and his unruly black hair falls in them. His fucking freckles and smile and fuck, Eddie hates it.

"Don't want your mom finding out you hang out with in your room? With the door closed?" Richie teases.

You be careful around him, Eddie. Before you know it, he'll have changed you.

"Yes." Eddie says, matter-of-factly. "You don't know how mad she'd be." 

"I think I do, Eds." Richie says. "I mean, I fuck her all the time, I think I know her by now."

"Shut up." Eddie mumbles. 

"You know I don't do that, my love." Richie says and Eddie simply rolls his eyes in response, a soft smile on his face.

No matter what he says, don't listen, Eddie. Don't listen to his lies.

They walk in silence the rest of the way to school but it's a comfortable silence. Everything is always comfortable with Richie. Just sitting in silence makes him happy. 

God, he hates how he feels about Richie. He hates it with everything in him and he tries to pretend it's not there. 

No matter how he makes you feel, Eddie. Do you hear me? He's just making you think these things. Be good, Eddie. Don't be stupid.