megtheuntalented

[megtheuntalented]

Nothing can amount to the pain of getting super invested in a fic, reading to the second to last chapter that ends on a cliffhanger, then realizing it hasn't been updated siNCE 2019. NOTHING.

[megtheuntalented]

James' mind is peacefully blank for once, completely absorbed in the moment. His face is smashed against Regulus' shoulder, his glasses slightly digging into his face. Their feet are tangled from where they're sitting on the couch.

Music softly plays in the room, some piano piece James has never heard, but Regulus has undoubtedly memorized, as evidenced by the quiet, unconscious humming coming from him.

All in all, it's a perfect moment.

The song slowly shifts to something with more of a beat, and James' eyes widen as he recognizes the familiar melody.

"Regulus," he nearly shouts to his boyfriend. He raises an unimpressed eyebrow in response and nags, "James, love, I'm right here."

James waves away Regulus' comment and leans in further. "This is the song that played when we first danced together. Come on, we have to dance to it again."

James snaps to grab Regulus' hand. The other man quickly shoves a bookmark into his book as he gets dragged from the comfortable couch. As James ushers him up, he's quick to point out, "Oh, so you remember the song we danced to a single time, but you can't remember when your herbology tests are?"

James just grins sheepishly, "I think you just mean I remember important things." Regulus rolls his eyes while James pats down his pant pockets in the middle of the room, looking for where he stashed his wand. His eyebrows furrow when he doesn't feel them, before he feels Regulus' hand on his chin, pushing up to meet his eyes. He carefully caresses James' face before taking his wand out from behind his ear. Regulus smirks and asks, "How did you forget that you put it there?"

James pulls Regulus further into his grasp and replies, "Got used to the weight." His eyes never leave the other as he grabs the wand and flicks it to turn up the music from their radio.

Regulus just shakes his head. "You really should store it better. Pockets are not good for your wand. Especially when someone is as accident prone as you," Regulus tells James.

He then whips out his own wand from its holster and flicks it twice, turning down the lights to a romantic dim. "See? Much more practical."

James can only smile at Regulus. He slips a hand around his back, and he can feel his partner's hand slip around his own. They sway to the music, two entities feeling like one.

Regulus rests his head on James shoulder and whispers, "Never a dull moment with you, is it?"

James' hand naturally starts to thread through the other's hair. He presses a kiss to his temple, and when he feels the smile on his shoulder, he asks, "Would you want it any other way?" James can feel the smile again.

"No."

[megtheuntalented]

Regulus and James sit in the dimly lit kitchen, murmuring amongst themselves, when the newly-six-year-old Harry comes shuffling down the hall while cuddling his well-worn padfoot plush. The two exchange a look before James pushes his chair back, letting out a loud screech, and heads toward Harry.

"What're you still doing up, Har," James asks, while he scoops the tired kid up in his arms. Harry just flops his head onto his Da's shoulder, much to the parents' amusement. They share a secret, endeared smile over the kid's head.

"Couldn't get to sleep," comes Harry's muffled reply. He lifts his head to look beseechingly at Regulus, the sterner of the two, "Can you pleaaaaase play me a song? Pretty please?" Harry tops off his request with big puppy dog eyes and a jut lip. Behind him, James mirrors Harry's face, silently begging Regulus for a song as well.

Regulus just rolls his eyes with a smile and gets up from his chair, too. "Well, since it is your birthday, I suppose you can have one last treat."

He gently takes Harry from James, sneaking in a quick cheek kiss to his husband. Said husband just gives a goofy grin, and dashes to the living room. Regulus snorts at his antics.

Harry settles on Regulus' chest as James grabs the guitar from where it's settled by the couch. He sets himself up on their worn, red couch as Regulus sits him and Harry down on the piano bench right across from James.

Both instruments are well loved, with James' mismatched tuning pegs on his guitar, and the places where paint was beginning to rub off on Regulus' piano.

James strums a few discordant chords and turns the pegs a bit, before smiling at Regulus, who just nods back. He ruffles Harry's hair before placing his hands on the keys and making them hum.

James joins in on Regulus' melody, adding riffs and weaving through the idea Regulus puts into the air. Regulus then slows down and only plays chords while James take the lead with his guitar. They continue this conversation between instruments well into the night, far past when Harry falls asleep cuddling Regulus.

As Regulus' nimble fingers push the last key, and James' hand strums the last chord, they both sit and let their music ebb and fade away into the night.

Regulus smiles down at their snoring kid, then lifts his head to smile at his husband, who already has the softest grin folded on his face. Regulus lovingly rolls his eyes, then gathers up Harry once more, careful not to wake him.

Once he's sure he is settled, he leans down to press a kiss to James' forehead. James hums. And as Regulus slips down the hall to Harry's room, he plucks just a few more notes from his old guitar.

[megtheuntalented]

James, newly discovering he is bi, is sure that he would be into buff, athletic men that could give him a run for his money in quidditch.

Instead, he passes by the library one evening while heading to the great hall. He glances in, and sees Regulus, tucked into the corner of the biggest bay window, reading a book. The moonlight makes his pale skin glow, and his dark eyes seem to blend in with the night behind him. His jaw line looks sharp enough to cut, with his hair curling just below it. James watches entranced as Regulus' sweater cuff slips down his wrist as he tucks the hair back behind his ear. Huh. He has a freckle on his forearm. James kind of wants to kiss it. James kind of wants to kiss his face too.

And then James realizes he's stopped walking. He also realizes that he may not be into burly men.

He's into his brother's brother.

Welp.

[megtheuntalented]

Idk, there's something so powerful about falling apart between your partner's arms. The only thing keeping the pieces of your heart together is their grip.

[megtheuntalented]

James groggily blinked awake, groaning slightly. He runs his hand through his already messy hair, and turns over to the sight of an empty bed. With furrowed brows, James sits up. He snags a shirt tossed haphazardly on the floor and creeps out of the bedroom. He hears quiet murmuring and babbling and follows the voices.

James vision is momentarily obscured as he tugs on the shirt while making his way to the kitchen. When he pulls the fabric from out of his face, he's greeted by the sight of Regulus whispering to a bouncing and babbling Harry. Regulus stands in front of the fridge, with its harsh light making his already pale complexion look translucent. His skin contrasts with his deep eye bags. But, he's smiling softly at Harry, who's propped on his hip. The smile rounds out the harsh lines of Regulus's face.

James smiles to himself and leans on the doorway. Regulus looks so natural while holding his kid. It was like he was born to be James' family. It doesn't help that Regulus is dressed in James' oversized quidditch jersey, and happens to have mismatched socks of varying length. James' heart swells as he looks to his beautiful man.

Regulus happens to look up and finds James lurking in the shadows. His soft grin morphs into a wry smirk, and he says to James, "Well, come on, love. If you're up, that means you can hold the baby."

He slides his was over to James, and carefully plops Harry into his arms. Harry pouts a little, making tiny grabby hands to Regulus. Regulus just smiles at the demanding baby, ruffling his messy hair and pressing a kiss to it. Harry sinks back into James, reluctantly satisfied.

James chuckles, before catching a fleeing Regulus by his wrist. "And where's my kiss," James asks with a coy grin. Regulus just rolls his eyes, even though his smile betrays his true feelings. He presses a soft kiss into James cheek. Even though they've been married for years, James can still spot a soft pink on Regulus' cheeks.

When Regulus pulls back, they both get stuck in each other's gazes. The soft smile on Regulus' face slowly turns into a neutral face as his eyes flick downwards. James, concerned, reaches for Regulus. He uses the hand not holding Harry to cup Regulus' face. His breath stutters a little when he feels a tear slip down his thumb.

"Regulus, what is it?" Regulus just looks at James once more. He moves pale hand to lay over top of James' own. "You have to wake up, love."

James eyes widen, "But-"

And then his eyes shoot open. He's in a dark bedroom. Lily snores by his side. Her hair happens to be in his mouth.

He wipes it away and sits up. Runs a hand through his hair and then over his face. Grabs the glasses from off his nightstand. Sneaks out of his bedroom to the kitchen.

And he cries when he finds no one there.

[megtheuntalented]

That feeling when you reread a good fic and you try to give kudos but you've already gave kudos and you can't give more even tho the fic deserves a million of them

[megtheuntalented]

Tomura Shigaraki and AFO decided to strike a year earlier than cannon. Izuku and Katsuki were together because Katsuki was trying to hunt down Izuku to bully him some more. Then, Tomura launched his biggest attack yet and released lots of nomu. So, Izuku and Katsuki were stuck in the apocalypse together. Izuku's analysis and Katsuki's battle sense become incredible resources and they survive with each other's help (they also thrive, as Izuku is great when the most valuable thing in the world is knowledge, and Izuku helps Katsuki's quirk, as the second most valuable is strength). They become close friends. They become more, although they never define what they are because there was no one else to define it for. All that was left was them, and they already knew what they were to each other. Best friends, confidante, supports, heroes. They didn't think many people were alive, but the stories of their plights spread amongst the remaining survivors. Eventually, a rag-tag group of heroes and one escaped villain find them and recruit them. They go for a little (Katsuki is cautious and doesn't want to rely on others, but Izuku wants to build a suvivors group, so they agree on a trial period), and the group sees how good the others are at surviving and taking down nomu, so they start a small Rebellion. It soon grows large under the leadership of the two, and they both face off against Shigaraki in a final battle. There's no more nomu as they previously destroyed all the factories and killed all the other nomu. They become legends.

[megtheuntalented]

Dipper's parents always fought. They would send glares to the other whenever one of his parents did something wrong. Then, once night fell and the twins were put to bed, they started their screaming matches.

Mabel was always a heavy sleeper. She would sleep through a tornado siren if no one woke her. Dipper, like most things in regard to his sister, was the complete opposite. He would awake at the slightest creak in their wood flooring, and at the smallest rustle outside. So, on the nights his parents fought, Dipper didn't get a lot of sleep.

Of course, this meant when he grew older, he would have a hard time even getting to sleep. His thoughts would swirl like and jab like an endless boxing match. The yelling in the background always managed to shake him awake if he managed to doze off.

His frakly abhorrent sleeping skills meant that when he arrived at Gravity Falls, Dipper was a seasoned insomniac. And when a certain demon kept trying to enter into his mind, he was thwarted by Dipper's zombie-like tendencies. You can't dream if you don't sleep, after all.

[megtheuntalented]

Harry likes spiders.

He used to be afraid of them. His brain would haunt him with images of their long spindly limbs trailing along his arms and legs. He used to flinch away from the thought of their eight eyes. He was scared of how fast they can move, because he would never be able to stop one before they attacked him.

Fortunately, he grew up. Harry learned that there were far scarier things in his world, threats that were more real. Threats that would hurt ten times more than little bites. Plus, if you didn't bother spiders they wouldn't bother you.

So, Harry and the spiders in his cupboards have a truce. He wouldn't try to make them leave, and they wouldn't hurt him.

Spiders are also great listeners. They won't judge you or pity you. They just keep building their webs.

And finally, Harry loves their webs. They're little pieces of art created specially for hin. They are the only gifts he's ever gotten.

He desperately hopes he'll never have to kill a spider.

[megtheuntalented]

"Don't call me Prongslet!"

Sirius stopped his mini rant to look at his heaving godson. "W-what," he stutters out.

Harry scrunches up his eyes, "S-stop calling me Prongslet. I-I don't like it!"

Sirius blinks at Harry. He hurriedly asks, "I won't call you Prongslet, but can I ask why you don't like it?"

Harry peers up at his godfather and meekly replies, "You're always call me Prongslet, but I'm not my Dad!"

At Sirius's confused look, Harry continues, "It feels like you're always comparing me to my dad. Whenever I'm good at quidditch, sneak out, or try to tame my hair, you always say something like 'You're just like James.' But I don't want to be James! I want to be me! Harry! Just me!"

Harry takes a moment to breathe before quietly adding on, "It feels like you'll only love the part of me that's James." Harry looks down as tears pool in his eyes.

Sirius's breath stutters. He quickly swoops his godson up in a hug. Harry immediately clings back tightly. Sirius's eyebrows tug together when he feels a tears soaking his shoulder.

"I'm so, so sorry, Harry. I thought... well, I thought that you would like to learn about your dad and how alike you are. But I went about it all wrong. I'm so sorry."

Sirius starts to trail a comforting line down Harry's back as he starts to hiccup-cry. "I want you to know that I will always love you. I love every single trait of you, even the bad ones. I will never only love the 'James parts'."

He gently backs away so he can look into Harry's eyes. "You could be a carbon copy of your Mom, you could hate quidittch, you could hate hogwarts, you could be a mean person, hell, you could even be a Slytherin, and I will always love you."

"I don't love 'James's son'. I love Harry Potter."

Harry breaks into another sob and launches himself at Sirius. Sirius hugs him tightly, trying to put all his love in it. "I promise I won't call you Prongslet anymore, Harry."

Harry sniffs one last time before giving Sirius a watery grin. "I have a new nickname, maybe, if you still want to use one."

Sirius matches his grin, "Sure, kid, watcha got?"

Harry timidly says, "Y-you could call me Pup? Because you know, your animagus is a dog."

Sirius's grin turns wild. He gives Harry a noogie and responds, "Sounds perfect, Pup."

[megtheuntalented]

When Death comes to retrieve him, he wishes a crying Ginny goodbye, and walks to Death like an old friend.

Death smirks, "Master." Harry rolls his eyes. "We both know that no one can control a concept," he replies with a soft smile.

The smirk smudges into a matching grin. Death holds out his arm for Harry to take and says, "Let's move on then, yeah?"

Harry takes a steadying breath before hooking his arm through Death's offered one. They walk together a couple of steps. "What's it like, the other side," Harry asks quietly.

The shade takes a moment before answering, "The End is not exactly something that the human soul can comprehend, but others would describe it as... coming home."

Home. Harry could be content with that. Home meant love and family and magic. Home meant safety and warmth. He could live out eternity with that.

Harry's breaths came easier after that.

As they were nearing the light, Harry started catching sight of glowing orbs. He raised a questioning eyebrow to Death, who merely smiled back at him.

Shapes started growing around the orbs into human outlines. Slowly, Harry started to see the forms of all his dead family and friends. His breath catches in his throat. Harry sprints as fast as he can to the patch of light. Death stays behind.

Harry heads straight to Sirius. He stops himself before he can jump on him. Sirius just grins and opens up his arms. Harry dives into the hug.

They both laugh as they are finally reunited. Sirius looked into Harry's eyes and says, "It was worth the wait to see you again." Harry just laughs and uses the heel of his palm to wipe his eyes.

He looks around to the other orbs. His mum and dad were here, Remus and Tonks besides them. Fred and George are wildly grinning, George having died a few years before Harry. Cedric is proudly looking to Harry. Dobby is there too, looking as if he's forcing himself not to run to Harry. Hedwig is even there, peacefully gliding on nonexistent air. Harry gives a huge grin to all of them.

He turns to Death, "You did this?"

Death gives a pleased hum, "I never said Master of Death didn't come with some perks."

Harry croaks out another wet laugh. He turns back to his family and friends, "I love you all, so much."

After a few minutes of socializing, Death taps him on the arm, "Are you ready to go?"

With one last loving look to his family, he accepts Death's hand and responds, "Yes. I think I am."

Harry's friends smile at him and retreat back into their orbs before zooming toward the light ahead. The last two that are left are Lily and James.

Lily comes up and kisses Harry on the forehead, "I love you, baby." She gently holds Harry's face between her hands before retreating back a step. Her husband comes up and roughly scrapes his knuckles across Harry's head. He pouts at his Dad as he shoves up his glasses.

James smiles unapologetically, "Sorry, kid. Been waiting a century to do that." He scoots down to Lily and grabs her hand. They dissapear into orbs together. Harry watches them go.

He turns towards Death. "Let's go." Death nods.

They walk towards the light together. Just before they enter, Harry mumbles to Death.

"Thank you."

[megtheuntalented]

Sirius recognizes the looks Harry gives him when he thinks he's not looking. He recognizes the awe in his voice and he recognizes Harry's need of approval from him.

Sirius came back for Harry. He stole him from that awful household before he could get hurt too much. Sirius understands that he's the one person who has loved Harry in a while. Sirius is Harry's role model.

And Merlin, if that doesn't freak him out.

Regardless, Harry is now under Sirius's care, and he has done his best to be a good guardian to him. A guardian that Lily and James would be proud of.

Except now, Harry is looking at Sirius like Sirius used to look at Fleamont Potter. Like how a child would look at a parent.

Sirius's stomach flips. This wasn't what was supposed to happen. He was supposed to look after Harry and maybe, if he was lucky, Harry would think of him as a cool uncle, or something. But instead, he's taking James's place.

Sirius never wanted this! Well, he does want Harry to love him, and he certainly sees Harry as the son he never had, but he wasn't supposed to take James's place in Harry's mind!

The baseline matter is: He is not supposed to be Harry's dad. It feels like he's violating James's memory.

James died because of Sirius. Stealing his kid from him just seems like rubbing salt in the wound.

Harry pulls him out of his revere by flying down the stairs. Literally. Then, he swerves upward to avoid the floor underneath him and accidently head straight towards Sirius.

Sirius's eyes widen as he quickly plucks the eight-year-old off his broom as he flies past.

Harry has a wide grin on his face as he looks to the still-zooming broom behind them. He distractedly says, "Thanks, Dad."

All of the air whooshes out of Sirius's lungs. Harry, who he's still holding, looks up curiously. His eyebrows pull taut at whatever expression Sirius has painted on his face. "Are you okay, Padfoot?"

Sirius just smothers his wet face into Harry's hair. He chokes out, "Yeah, kid, I'll be fine."

[megtheuntalented]

Nagini slithers through perfectly cut grass, trying to smell where such familiar magic has come from.

Nagini has traveled very far. After she felt the connection to her master snap, she was left wandering alone, trying to find whatever scraps of magic he left behind. It has been a long journey. Nagini has had little to no luck finding anything that remains of her master. The best she could sniff out were faint impressions of his magic. Nothing that could sustain her. But then, while traveling through the muggle part of London as a shortcut, she licked a beautiful whiff of her master's magic. Now, she's been following the trail for four days, trying to find the source.

She stops slithering when she catches sight of a small boy with jet black hair. He looks like he's wrestling with the useless plants in what Nagini assumes to be a garden.

Nagini takes the chance to taste the air again. The trail of master's magic leads straight to the boy. She determinedly slither closer to get a better taste.

Once she's hidden among the watermelons, Nagini flicks her tongue out once more. She lets out a surprised hiss. The hatchling doesn't just smell like master, no, he smells more like her! He's a vessel for the master too!

She swivels her eyes back to the oblivious hatchling. That begs the question, why is the hatchling in a place with no magic?

Her green body shines as she slithers up to the boy, finally catching his eye. He jumps and whirls to face Nagini with cautious curiosity.

"Why are you here, little boy," Nagini hisses to him. The hatchling's eyebrows pull together as he responds, "I live here, snake. I didn't know snakes could talk. What's your name? My name's Harry!"

Nagini wouldn't be surprised if the boy was sorted into Ravenclaw, as her master almost was. "My name is Nagini, and snakes can't talk the human language, you can talk the snake language," Nagini easily replies.

Harry blinks a couple of times, then frowns. "That doesn't make sense," he says in a small voice, "I've never met anyone else who can talk to snakes."

"That is because you are magic, child. Now tell me, what are you doing with muggles?"

Harry seems to ignore Nagini's question. "I'm... magic? But magic isn't real! I'm just a freak!" Nagini hisses out a sigh. "You are magic, or else you wouldn't be talking to me. Did you not know what you are?"

Harry gapes for a second, "No, I just... I just thought that I wasn't normal. My relatives seem to think so." The hatchling sighs mournfully as gazes back to the house behind them.

That's an easy fix for Nagini, "I'll kill them then." Harry whips back around to Nagini, "No! You can't just kill them! What?!" He tries to grab for Nagini, but she's already slithering to the house.

"No, stop!" Nagini give in to the little hatchling, and turns her head to face him, "Why not? They obviously don't like you, and anyone who doesn't like something of the master's should perish."

Harry ignores the master comment for now and replies, "You can't just kill whoever you want. I-it's wrong!"

Nagini sigh-hisses again but relented, "I still do not understand why I can't kill them, but I will wait for now." She slithers up to Harry and craws up his leg to rest on his waist and shoulders. Harry wobbles a bit under her weight. "Instead I will protect you, until you can defend yourself."

The hatchling hurriedly shakes his head, "You can't do that either," He squirms under Nagini, "They would just hurt you, too."

"I would not let them hurt me," Nagini says simply. Harry still looks unconvinced, so she adds, "It's either this or their deaths, little hatchling." Harry swallows as sweat slips down his forehead. He takes a small breath before giving in, "I guess you can stay. But please try and stay hidden."

Nagini bears her fangs in a grin, "I'll try my best little hatchling." Harry sighs before going back to plucking useless plants out of the garden.

[megtheuntalented]

Harry peered up through his ratty bangs at the sound of a bark. Dudley's friends just got done playing 'Harry Hunting.' Harry was busy trying to stop the bleeding from his scraped knees when he heard a woof.

His eyes widen as they catch on a huge, black dog. It's the biggest dog Harry has ever seen! He notices the dog's staring and scrambles back on the scratch grass.

Harry squeaks and flinches when the dog trots closer. His eyes are still glued shut when he feels a heavy breath on his face. His bangs tickle his forehead.

Harry squeals when the dog licks him. His eyes blink open to find two deep brown ones staring right back at him. They look strangely intelligent for a dog.

Harry takes in the rest of the dog. He has black, matted fur and smelled positively awful. His nose scrunches at the first whiff of him. Plus, the dog was enormous! He would probably come up to Harry's chest if he was standing! That's really big, even if everyone says that Harry's small for a seven-year-old.

The mangy dog tilts its head curiously as Harry assesses him. Harry cautiously raises his hand to pet him. He stops. What if the dog doesn't like it, or bites him? The dog rolls his eyes at him and shoves his head onto Harry's hovering hand. Harry blinks in bewilderment before absentmindedly petting him. He didn't he realize that dogs could roll their eyes.

The dog bucks his head, demanding more attention. Harry smiles and obliges. "Are you lost? Do you have a name," Harry asks the dog politely. The dog whines before lifting his paw and shoving his nose into it.

"Awww, is your paw hurt, buddy?" The dog snorts before shaking his head no. Harry thinks he's found the smartest dog in the world. He tilts his head, "Then what's... oh were you trying to tell me your name?"

The dog sits back further and tilts his head up. His tails wags happily. Looks like Harry's guess was right on the money!

Harry carefully replies, "So, your name is Paw then?" The dog barks offendedly. "Guess that's a no, huh," Harry pauses to think, "Is it... Nails?" Another shake of the head. Harry's forehead scrunches as he racks his memories for more words. Something deep inside him starts to call out. An instinct, almost. Harry frowns, but decides to give the name a try, anyway, "Is.. is your name, um, Padfoot?"

The dog goes crazy. He barks and spins and licks Harry's face some more. Harry can't help but laugh, "Seems like I'm right." Padfoot barks and wags his tail.

Harry becomes shy before asking one more question, "Does... does this mean you can be my friend? Please? I know your a dog, but I don't have a lot of them. Friends, that is. Please, Padfoot." Harry eyes go big and shiny, trying to replicate the same eyes in front of him.

The dog snorts and nuzzles his cheek. Harry unabashedly smiles before hugging the smelly dog.

"You're a strange dog, you know that?"

[megtheuntalented]

Harry mourns for every single person he couldn't save during the war with Voldemort. When the anniversary of the final battle comes up, Harry becomes listless and disconsolate. His heart rips in a million different pieces. It's like dying a little each year.

Hermione notices, because of course she does, "Why don't you do something for them. So they still know you remember them," She gently chides. "It might help."

Harry sighs and scrubs his face roughly when Hermione leaves. It takes ten agonizing minutes to force himself off the couch, and another ten to actually figure out what he's going to do.

Harry sighs again. He pushes himself forward to fan mail. He tugs out his wand and rolls it between his hand. Harry then transfigures his simpering fan mail into dozens of gleaming, red roses. He picks them up, dutifly ignoring the pricks in his palms, and apparates to a graveyard.

That night, Harry places a rose on each of his friends' graves. Remus, Lupin, Fred and George. He visits grave after grave, trying to carve each memory of the attached name deep in his soul, so he can never forget.

His fingers are numb when he comes to his final destination. Harry feels a hollow exhaustion creeping in. He's back where it all began and where it almost ended. He takes a few steps into King's Cross Station and lets the memories of his childhood wash over him. Harry shakes his head. He came here for a reason.

He shoves himself in the far corner where he found the pitiful horcrux while he was in limbo. He gently lowers the final rose to where it used to wail. Harry doesn't mourn for Voldemort, but he does mourn for the child that his nemesis never had the chance to be. He mourned for himself.

Harry spins around and apparates away.

[megtheuntalented]

I know every single imperfection about myself, but I couldn't tell you a single good thing about myself if you asked.