#‘it has to be perfect. it has to be irreproachable in every way.’

[zombiegirldean]

I do think Sam has for lack of a better word a gifted kid complex about Stanford and gets a lot of self esteem from being the Smart One to Dean's Dumb Jock and that's he's a little elitist and disdainful of the whole gas stations and dive bars vibe that hunters have and likes having read books that nobody else has read and is constantly humiliated by the fact that he hasn't and will never achieve traditional academic success bc he doesn't want to be seen as a dumb hick, he wants a teacher figure to tell him he has 'so much potential', he wants to be the smart one to make up for feeling like there's something fundamentally wrong with him. and I also think that Dean has been seen as a dumb hick his entire life and nobody has ever told him he has academic potential and he is extremely bitter and resentful about this but at the same time plays it up and makes it a part of his identity so nobody can hurt him with it esp in contrast with playing off of sam. and I think dean acts dumber than he actually is and keeps it close to his chest that he actually reads so he can fit in better with the good ol boys and perform his version of masculinity more effectively. and I think he pretends to get things wrong on purpose so sam can correct him so he can call sam gay for knowing what cinderella is bc he is insane. and I think he starts referencing books openly in s4 specifically just to get under sam's skin bc he's mad at sam. which works.

[ghost-proofbaby]

ghost!!! i am sobbing weeping crying omg twenty four hours is coming to an end and it is so very bittersweet. i found 24hrs on ao3 and stayed up until three am binging it, then immediately went and followed you on tumblr, and ive been keeping track of it ever since. im not very good a tumblr since i only started using the app for fanfic last october, and i am one of those people that sometimes is ashamed of being a fangirl, so it’s almost unbelievable to me that i have a space where no one will know it’s me and i can enjoy whatever i want. im still trying to adjust to that, tell myself that it’s okay to repost fanfics and that this is a safe space. but twenty four hours has helped me with a LOT of that. before i used to kinda be ashamed to go on tumblr, but now i scroll it daily bcs i didn’t want to miss any updates on the fic. i also made the plunge and officially got an ao3 account, after oh about, seven or eight years of reading fan fiction practically non stop. so im getting there, and i just wanted you to know that twenty four hours helped me to get there.

and i think the main reason that twenty four hours has helped me get there is because of the quality of your writing. you write beautifully, intricately, and most of all—truthfully. ive never read an x reader that has felt so real, so fleshed out and most of all, relatable. i would find myself having internal monologue as i read from the ‘reader’s’ perspective and then the next paragraph would, sometimes word for word, have ‘reader’ think what i was thinking. this fic was also so healing, in a way. the way you used literary devices to describe such complicated situations had me often feeling relieved—like i had just let something go. as someone with a lot of baggage right now and who has a hard time believing they could ever be loved, it was at the very least comforting to have my insecurities and my negative qualities forgiven and proven untrue through ‘reader’ if that makes sense.

ik this is sappy as hell but i genuinely feel this way. your writing has moved me in a way that actual published books haven’t done for me in a while. so i just want to thank you for the time, effort, and thought that went into this fic. and secondly, i want to suggest the idea of adapting this into a novel to be published or a screenplay for a movie, in case no one has mentioned that to you or you haven’t thought of it. i really believe you have something good here, and with your talent, i could see you being very successful. this story of these two people—who both have internal wounds inflicted on themselves, each other, or from the past—who then grow more self aware and choose to be honest, even when it’s hard, is such a rare thing to see in literature or any kind of art. and i think the world needs more of that. bcs, like i said, this fic was more than just a fic to me. it touched me deeply. i cried, i laughed, and i reflected my own self. in short, it was a journey in more ways than one.

so thank you—for your art, for ‘reader’, and for eddie. i can’t wait for the epilogue and to read whatever stories you may have planned for the future.

<3

(ps so sorry to have word vomited in your ask box.)

first and foremost — never apologize for word vomit in my ask box. i am always a-okay with that. 🖤

i don’t even know what to say. i have this terrible habit of putting a lot more of myself than i care to admit into both my readers and my ocs, and most of the time, it’s not the good parts. usually, it’s the absolute worst parts of myself. i take all the rot inside, and i throw it into these projections, and i try to justify how someone with those qualities would still be deserving of love. it’s always been a coping mechanism. always. and then i’ve always strived to be a better writer, make my words worth reading, because i know how much of myself i’ve put into it.

to know other people see themselves in reader or eddie or any character i write is both so strangely hopeful but also so saddening, and it just makes me want to give you the biggest hug 🫂

on the note of publishing, i have definitely considered it. it’s just a really scary journey to decide to take. but the day i do decide to take the plunge, whether with this story or any other i’ve written or any entirely new one, you all will be the first to know 🖤🖤🖤

thank you so so much for reading, for letting my writing touch your soul the way it has. i am so honored that this fic has had this type of affect on you. this message genuinely made me cry. i am sending you all the love. <3

[earraigh]

literally so shocked and disgusted rn....... just opened a draft of a story i've been writing for the first time in a while and it hasn't written itself........ what the fuck???

[thingwithfeathers]

feeling very “it has to be perfect. it has to be irreproachable in every way.” “why?” “to make up for it. to make up for the fact that it’s me” in this chilis tonight.

[rookofthekingom]

Sometimes I think people forget how kind Remus was. Look, I know the whole point of this fandom is stealing the characters from JKDipshit and completely changing them, but canonically he was the kindest man in the entire series. And that’s literally so important to me because it’s just such a large part of his personality. He hated, hated being a werewolf—not just because it made him different, but also because it was such a huge manifestation of the carefully suppressed anger and violence that he always tried his best to avoid. And that’s also the important distinction I want to make between him and James—James is just so nice, it’s his immediate response to everything because that’s just who he is as a person. Remus, however, has to actively make the conscious effort to be kind. Because underneath the projected kindness is everything that he’s been through—everything that he’s still going through—and his anger at the injustice of it all. And that’s one of the main factors that plays into the emotional bond behind Wolfstar; Sirius sees the effort, because he knows what it is to continuously change for the better, to feel the need to prioritize the effort for good over the pain and hurt of the past.

Also, little known fact about me, but I love intellectual quotes, so I found one for this:

“ ‘I don’t know what’s going to come out of me,’ I told her. ‘It has to be perfect. It has to be irreproachable in every way.’

‘Why?’ she said.

‘To make up for it,’ I said. ‘To make up for the fact that it’s me.’ ”

-from “Ugly, Bitter, and True” by Suzanne Rivecca

Thank you for coming to my TedTalk :)

[whoreshippingbooks]

The San Francisco therapist kept telling me I shouldn't be terrified of creative experimentation.

"I don't know what's going to come out of me," I told her. "It has to be perfect. It has to be irreproachable in every way."

"Why?" she said.

"To make up for it," I said. "To make up for the fact that it's me."

— Suzanne Rivecca

[snuggerudsz]

THE PRICE OF PERFECTION l LH43

WHEN EMMA FALLS IN LOVE AU

summary: luke will always be there to pick up the pieces whenever emma needs him to.

pairing: luke hughes x emma baudelaire

author’s note: hi!! i’m back with some more emma and luke. this time i’m going into emma’s relationship with studying and academic validation. that one hits close to home. i wasn’t sure how to end it so i’m not a big fan of the ending. anyways, likes and reblogs are always welcomed. thank you for reading. hope you enjoy!!! <3333

Emma Baudelaire was perfect. She had to be. It was the only option, everything she does has to be irreproachable and flawless in every single conceivable way. Straight As, first place trophies, blue ribbons. Ace every test, outdo all the rest and don’t settle for second best. Live up to the family name. Protect the reputation. No mistake is allowed, excellence is expected and there's no room for mediocrity. Plan A is greatness and there’s no plan B. Failure is unacceptable. And in the Baudelaire family’s dictionary, it doesn’t even exist. But one person can only take so much until they break. And Luke Hughes knows this and is always there to pick up the pieces.

It’s the middle of the night when Luke wakes up. It takes a second for him to take in his surroundings, still getting used to Emma’s Manhattan penthouse. He reaches for the blonde girl, but she isn’t beside him as she should be. His eyes glance at the clock at the bedside table, 3:47 a.m. in red light staring back at him. The floor is cold when his feet hit the ground, making the well-known path. He walks softly, following the light towards the office the girl uses to study.

Luke opens the door, walking inside. Emma’s so focused on the words in front of her that she doesn’t even notice the boy behind her. 

“Sunshine?” The american calls out, getting closer, “It’s almost 4 in the morning, Em.” He states, crouching down by her chair.

“It’s late, Lu. Go to bed, I just need to finish this.” The blonde girl answers, her accent accentuated by the tiredness.

Luke can see the sleep in her eyes, so he pulls her hand away from the keyboard, giving it a soft kiss.

“Can I convince you to come now?” He asks, still holding onto her hand.

His touch is gentle, and Emma’s own fingers play with his. She almost gives it up right there, but she can’t. It can be hard to separate how valuable your achievements are from how worthy of love you are when those concepts have been tied your entire life. To some, the line between the two is obvious. But it never was to Emma. She had to be the best to get the right to exist. The feeling of being truly worthy was addictive, and Emma was an addict. 

But Emma’s also tired. Exhausted. Still, she ignores the sting in her eyes and the lump in her throat and shakes her head no. The monegasque doesn’t even look in Luke’s direction, refusing to see the disappointment in his eyes. But Luke sees how hard she’s fighting to keep herself awake. 

“Baby, relax, come on, deep bre-” 

“Luke,” she cuts him off, “I’ve always lived like this, it’s all I know. I’d break into pieces, Luke. I..If I relax now, I’ll fall apart.” Emma whispers like she’s telling him her greatest secret.

“Then fall apart. I’ll put you back together, sweet girl.” 

Then, she breaks. Suddenly, she can’t hold the tears anymore. Luke gets up, pulling the girl into his chest, while he coos at her softly. As her knees began to buckle, Luke pulled her closer to him. Emma’s hands held onto his arms and she exhaled shakily, tears falling freely down her face.

“It’s okay, baby, everything will be fine.” Luke said softly, pressing his lips into her forehead gently. 

After the crying dies down, he manages to take her back into bed, laying beside her. 

“I’m sorry,” Emma croaks out, voice hoarse from the lack of use. “I know I’m difficult. I don’t mean to be so complicated to love. I swear.”

“Emma, I love you. All the mess and the fuss and the complicatedness of you. You’re loved and you’re worthy of love, even when you don’t feel like it. It’s all lovable.” Luke blurts out, almost desperately. “You are worth finding. Worth knowing. Worth loving. All of you. And I love you, ok?” He says, holding her close. “Je t’aime” He whispers, very strong american accent but Emma’s heart is full with love. 

“Je t’aime aussi, mon coeur.” She whispers back at him. 

Slowly both of them drift to a peaceful sleep in each other’s arms, knowing as long as they have each other it’ll be alright.

[rosehipandroots]

“The San Francisco therapist kept telling me I shouldn’t be terrified of creative experimentation. “I don’t know what’s going to come out of me,” I told her. “It has to be perfect. It has to be irreproachable in every way.” “Why?” she said. “To make up for it,” I said. “To make up for the fact that it’s me.” ― Suzanne Rivecca

thinkin bout this lately

aka CAN I PLEASE JUST WRITE FOR FUCKS SAKE

[kaibasupremacy]

For the ask meme, if you're interested in answering: Seto for 17 + 27 and also 23 because that seems like a soft and kind of silly fun question. And also, if you'd like, Pegasus for 25 and also 23. Thank you! I hope you have a nice day/night!

Thank you so much for the ask!! I feel very honored!! 🩵🩵

It’s the first time for me doing something like this because I often feel insecure about my character takes, or because I find it hard to answer questions on the spot. Also, I probably have more for all of these questions but this is just what comes to my mind now at 2 am.

17. Quotes, songs, poems, etc. that I associate with them

I actually have a playlist of songs that remind me of him, or his relationship with various people from his life, that I shared only with a small number of people because I’m kind of self conscious about my music tastes >.>

But there are certain songs that I just cannot help but think of him when I listen.

“Numb” and “Crawling” by Linkin Park, the first makes me think of his relationship with his father figures, the second of the effects of his trauma.

“Hoax” by Taylor Swift is a song I cannot help but associate with his relationship with Atem. I do not really ship them but his relationship with him is in canon Seto’s deepest connection besides the one with Mokuba, and probably Gozaburo. I feel like that song represents very well Seto’s feelings of bitterness at Atem leaving.

“You knew it still hurts underneath my scars

From when they pulled me apart

You knew the password, so I let you in the door

You knew you won, so what's the point of keeping score?

You knew it still hurts underneath my scars

From when they pulled me apart

But what you did was just as dark

Darling, this was just as hard

As when they pulled me apart”

As for quotes:

“you keep fighting because you feel you need to earn permission to exist. you're even willing to sacrifice your own life for it. no—one can grant you that affirmation. no stamp certifies that you deserve to live”

“And I was so young

When I behaved

Twenty five

Yet now I find

I've grown into

A tall child”

-Mitski, First Love/Late Spring (the whole song actually…I know it’s a reach, but my Seto brainrot forces me to see the words “window” and “ledge” and relate them only to him)

“We do not want to be spared by our best enemies, not by those either whom we love thoroughly”

-Nietzsche, Thus Spoke Zarathustra

“No one has ever written, painted, sculpted, modeled, built, or invented except literally to get out of hell”

-Antonin Artaud

“I don’t know what’s going to come out of me,” I told her. “It has to be perfect. It has to be irreproachable in every way.”

“Why?” she said.

“To make up for it,” I said. “To make up for the fact that it’s me”

-Suzanne Rivecca

As for the poem, it’s actually a rather dark one that I associate with him, Le Cœur supplicié by Arthur Rimbaud (tw for discussions of sa if anyone wants to look up how it has been often interpreted). To contextualize, my interpretation of the abuses Seto endured in his life is that they were very brutal. But I also associate it to the profound violation Seto experienced when Gozaburo stole his designs (or if you interpret it that he handed them over willingly in manga canon, how he would feel looking back at that).

27. Their guilty pleasure

Bad horror movies, because he is still the boy who built Death-T.

23. If they were a scented candle, what would they smell like? For both Seto and Pegasus.

For someone that loves scented candles, I am actually having trouble with this one. I’m going for coffee or moss for Seto. Maybe lavender for Pegasus?

25. 3 things they’d want to take with them if they were dropped off in the middle of nowhere (for Pegasus)

Not the biggest Pegasus fan or expert, but I would say a picture of Cyndia, a piece of Funny Bunny memorabilia and a bottle of wine.

[hddudjcnsnejfcnend]

My therapist told me that I shouldn't be so terrified of creative experimentation.

"I don't know what's going to come out of me," I told her.

"It has to be perfect. It has to be irreproachable in every way."

"Why?" she asked.

"To make up for it," I said.

"To make up for the fact that it's me."

[spriteofmushrooms]

Having thoughts about Lan Sizhui.

“My mom said, ‘When you were a baby, you used to poke your head out of blankets.’ She said, ‘It was like you knew how to be cute.’ She didn’t say it, like, flattering: ‘It was weird. It was like you knew what you were doing.’ I think I thought, and feel still, that I have to provide that in order for people to like me. The idea of, would they like me just as me—without poking out of the blanket, metaphorically—is a real thought or concern."

--John Mulaney

The San Francisco therapist kept telling me I shouldn’t be terrified of creative experimentation.

“I don’t know what’s going to come out of me,” I told her. “It has to be perfect. It has to be irreproachable in every way.”

“Why?” she said.

“To make up for it,” I said. “To make up for the fact that it’s me.

-- Suzanne Rivecca

I think I've come to terms with the fact that there will always be a ribbon of loneliness running through who I am.

-- Jenny Slate

[puyohusofu]

I'm not confident at all. I am so insecure. Everyone else just seems so much better than me, because they are not me. What is my identity? Is art a part of my identity? Society makes it seem like everyone needs to have a label to refer to. I would be a writer, an artist. But I never say I am. Just that I would or could be.

Do I have little faith in myself? I begin to realize that I am nothing special. I know full well nobody is. But in my eyes everyone and everything is special. Just not me. It's so strange, I make lots of drawings and stories and dumb stuff because I love how people are. But I guess it's like an ai drawing a human, attempting art. I see myself less than a person?

I try to heal and believe that what I don't have I could have, and what I am not I can be. But I guess it's so hard to believe and trust in myself. What does this mean then? Do I need treatment in order to succeed?

I am so so strange. So contradictory. Many around me say that I create and think things that no one else had or could. That im such a genius. And maybe I would have some hope for the possibility that I am. But when I see what great things people like me are doing, and becoming, and are, I realize that my progress is nothing but an ant compared to them.

I sit in bed most days, sometimes I think, listen to music and daydream new ideas. If im feeling in a good mood, I draw...my list of drawings to do is so long now. And if Im really feeling risky, I try to draw on my tablet. I can't believe, I can't fucking believe, that I am 20 now, fucking 20, and I don't have an established coloring style digitally.

And even so, I feel when I do get there, that my ideas were not even remotely unique. That I won't be on par with the greats, with the others like me. I'd be forgettable, nothing, a nobody. I feel like without art I am nothing, without what I create I am nothing. It is my label after all. It is my "job".

Without that what am I? What would I do or be?

What purpose would there be?

"I don't know what's going to come out of me. It has to be perfect, it has to be irreproachable in every way." "Why?" "To make up for it. To make up for the fact that it's me."

[grey-lark]

“I told her. “It has to be perfect. It has to be irreproachable in every way.”

“Why?” she said.

“To make up for it,” I said. “To make up for the fact that it’s me.””

-> https://longreads.com/2018/09/27/ugly-bitter-and-true/ (scroll down)

People hate their own art because it looks like they made it. They think if they get better, it will stop looking like they made it. A better person made it. But there's no level of skill beyond which you stop being you. You hate the most valuable thing about your art.

https://x.com/eliciadonze/status/1404054807598469124?s=46&t=dtIQnkCmPSvO4H3PBZmGsg

^^ these two are the first quotes i think about that may relate/be similar to what you’re thinking of

Yes - thank you so much! These two were exactly what I was thinking of!

[journalofsorts2]

some more quotes i got from tiktoks that made me cry

"the desire to be sicker to prove that you are sick, itself is indicative of sickness. a well person doesn't desire to be sick."

"i don't know what's going to come out of me, it has to be perfect. it has to be irreproachable in every way. [...] to make up for it, to make up for the fact that it's me."

"still, on the days i want to be alive the sunlight leaves me stunned like a kiss"

"how do i explain to someone that just by existing, i am subjecting myself to irreparable damage?"

"existence is excruciating and i have a low pain tolerance"

"who cares if one blade of grass is cut from the field" but this one had some nice comments that stuck with me, "if every blade thinks like this, then we'll have no grass left. and i quite like the field" and "the blades across the field might not notice, but the ones around will. they will feel the empty space." (and i don't like guilting people into staying alive, but i love metaphors and that's a post for another day)

"i wait every year for summer, and it is usually good, but it is never as good as that summer i am always waiting for."

"the illusions of childhood are necessary experiences; a child should not be denied a balloon just because an adult know that sooner or later it will pop"

"i remember my childhood as a long wish to be elsewhere"

"i'm forever a child looking out my window at the night sky. thinking one day i'll touch the world with bare hands, even if it burns"

"you still crave lemonade, but the taste doesn't satisfy you as much as it used to. you still crave summer, but sometimes you mean the summer five years ago."

"from childhood i had never believed in permanence, and yet i had longer for it"

"i want everything back, the way it was. but there is no point to it, this wanting"

"in another universe, my window is open and im laying on my floor. i am 12 years old. nothing bad has happened to me"

"i should not have to reach crisis for you to believe my distress"

"i am not good at being human lately"

"before i die i want to live"

idk thats all for now cause something popped into my head that i want to talk about in a different post

[kamyru]

I WANT TO SEE TOGO SUFFER! How does he react to seeing the beloved married to the other LIs?

Hey, Anon! Thank you for showing interest in my ideas. I like so much that I'm not the only one who feels like torturing the characters. I don't know if you wanted to see headcanons for Togo reacting to each "Oops! I Said Yes?!" character being married to MC, but here's a scenario with this idea. I hope you'll like it. ❤️

P.S. If someone has other ideas regarding Togo Daimon (especially now that his route is on its way) or want to see Voltage Inc characters suffering, let me know and I'll write it.

When the student surpasses his teacher (Togo Daimon's one-sided crush) (Scenario) (Angst)

Summary: Togo Daimon was caught between a rock and a hard place three years ago when he had to choose between his love and his career. Yet, after he came back and everything seemed to work out, he understood that his choice had consequences.

Word counting: 1248

Togo had to bite the inside of his cheek when MC passed by him. It took him a lot of time to finally sort out his feelings. Of course, the young employee had hair that seemed as fluffy as a kitten's. The giggle of her laugh was contagious. The way she turned with big round moons instead of eyes every time he called for her from behind made Togo forget for a few seconds what he had to say. Her perpetual energy and stubbornness to reach perfection reminded him why he loved his job. Yet, how could Togo Daimon, MC's superior, take advantage of her youthfulness and ask her out? However, the way Minamidaira chuckled when she saw him interacting with her friend, gave MC knowing looks when he was around, and mentioned MC every time Togo was around, planted an idea inside his mind.

So, the thirty-four years old Togo Daimon decided to confess his feelings to the promising young employee MC was. It was too early to ask her something like this in the morning. What if she became awkward and avoided him? No, he would do it just before leaving. Yet, Togo had no idea that the awkward one was him. He was aware of his feelings and intentions, so MC's presence made him act like a schoolgirl in love with her senpai.

Togo Daimon, the feared superior from Miyoshi Concepts, who was nearly as fierce as The Blizzard, found himself abruptly making a U-turn when he saw MC at the end of the hall. If Shu Hasunuma was a little taller, he could have felt his senpai's lips on his. Yet, the men were lucky and avoided any awkward interaction.

"What has gotten into you?" Shu asked, using his professional smile, yet a twitch of his lips exposed his amusement.

Togo took a step back and bumped into the wall. He was on the verge of apologizing to the soulless thing. Only Shu's presence saved him. The younger man's eyes traveled to where MC was mere seconds ago.

"You're young, aren't you?" Togo suddenly started speaking.

Shu lost his composure and let out a hearty laugh. He wasn't a professional and respectful employee anymore.

"And you are very old, Daimon."

A tongue click was enough to stop Shu from making any other jokes.

"What are some places that young couples go nowadays?"

Daimon looked at Hasunuma questioningly. Hasunuma looked at Daimon in disbelief. If there was anyone to know something about dating out of the two of them, it had to be Togo Daimon. The man was irreproachable. Six feet tall and super strong were less than one percent of the qualities he had. Shu Hasunuma could write an entire speech about his senior. Though, he chose to let out an awkward giggle that contradicted his perfect persona.

"You're deep into this, man," Shu said while squeezing Togo's shoulder.

Togo had to take a deep breath to calm the storm inside his chest. What was on his mind when he asked another employee about something so personal? He completely lost his mind. It didn't matter that Daimon and Hasunuma had known each other for more than a decade. One thing that he adored about MC was her professionalism. She wouldn't like to find out how he lacked this quality, would she?

Senkawa was old, even if he was pretty popular with women. Kasai was out of the question. The man knew how to take girls into his messy bed, and that was it. Kiba divorced recently. Hasunuma was interested only in 2D-chans. So, Togo Daimon was left alone to find his path toward MC's heart.

Though, he still had to find out that it was a long road with no exit. He got called by his boss. So, instead of him asking MC to go out with him, he was asked if he wanted to go out of his way and work abroad for a few years.

Togo Daimon left the office and went towards the nearest bar. He didn't even care that a few tables farther, Kasai was putting his seducing skills to use. A drink after a drink, and then another drink. The taste wasn't as good as the one that MC's lips could have had. Yet, he didn't need good taste. His soul was full of bitterness, and he wanted it to fill every cell of his body. And then he woke up in the cold embrace of his warm blanket. Probably, it was for the first time Kasai saw him drinking anything besides juice.

A few days after, instead of picking places to take MC on a date, Togo was picking places that sold cheap plane tickets. He wasn't rehearsing how to give MC compliments. He was rehearsing how to speak a foreign language.

It was no use to let MC know about his feeling. There was no way their relationship could survive long-distance without even starting. So, Togo chose to confess his feeling later. When later was, he had no idea. But later.

Then, Togo Daimon found out that his later was equal to three years. He knew the difference between thirty-four and thirty-seven wasn't as big as the one between twenty-five and twenty-eight. MC wasn't a young employee anymore. She had won prizes and recognition. Moreover, she worked under The Blizzard and toughened herself.

The man didn't have enough patience to take a break after arriving in Japan. He tried to be as nonchalant as ever. Yet, MC's concentrated eyes that didn't acknowledge his presence made his heart skip a beat. Togo saw photos of MC's projects, and he could feel the part of her soul she planted in there. But watching the process reminded him that a part of his soul belonged to her.

A faint smile appeared on his face. Feeling someone's eyes on her, MC turned to him. Togo took a step back and felt something soft against his elbow. He hadn't seen MC's smile, the one he missed so much. However, he saw the one on his junior's face. Before the man Togo bumped into could leave, he apologized for the collision.

"MC, why don't you use your husband's name yet?" someone asked.

"It will be hard for you to work with two Hasunuma," MC's sweet voice answered.

And then everything was clear, the big smile on Shu's face, his distraction, the lack of his prince-like persona. Everything was because of MC's presence. The presence that Togo craved so much.

"So, you figured out the popular dating spots," left Togo's lips.

Shu looked questioningly at his senior. He didn't remember what happened when Togo was offered to work abroad. Why would he? It wasn't him who had to leave for three years.

"The student surpassed his teacher," Togo said after moments of silence. He squeezed Shu's shoulder. The younger man looked after the popular boss. He had no idea what everything was about, yet he knew that his wife was waiting for him.

Daimon passed by Kasai, who let out a nasty comment. However, Togo didn't give enough fucks to answer once again to the name "Demon".

"Three years is a lot, isn't it?" was what left his lips instead. Something echoed through the hall. Togo Daimon could remember only a thing that sounded as jolly as this - MC's laugh. At least this was a thing that he could enjoy, the happiness of the person he loved. Even if he wasn't the cause.

[officialyourdailyinspiration]

Bowen's Daily Meditations by Rev. George Bowen

"Teach me thy way, Lord." - Psalms 27:11

It will hardly be denied by any reflecting person that it is reasonable to suppose that there is for every human being a particular line of procedure which commends itself to God as the best, and every deviation from which is a deviation from that which is best. When we consider how admirably God has organized man, how richly he has endowed him, with what authority he has invested him, and with what appliances he has surrounded him; when we consider what an infinitude of wise and good thoughts God has bestowed in the preparation of man for life; can we believe that God has no particular will in regard to the way in which that life should be spent? We should be greatly surprised if a man should expend an immense sum of money in the building of a ship; employ the most skillful artificers in perfecting her with respect to a thousand anticipated necessities: render her strong, beautiful, swift, commodious; and then launch her and leave her to float at random over the waters, without any commander, without any instructions. Yet this appears to be the idea that many in considerate persons entertain of human existence. They suppose that man is left without a chart, without instructions; and leave it to be inferred that God is the most inconsistent of all beings. Ask them why they suppose so; if they have searched for the will of God, and found none; if they have sincerely asked God for instructions, and obtained no answer; if they have been cordially willing to leave unto God the full control of their earthly existence; and they will be obliged to reply that they have not. Not only have they not sought, they have not been willing to see.

We know, however, that God has a will with regard to every man, a will that takes note of every conceivable particular. We know that he is disposed to make known this will, and disposed also to teach us to do it.

He teaches us to do it by making us sensible of our incompetency to guide ourselves. One after another, signal mistakes occur, to show us how absolutely we need a guide more intelligent than ourselves. We get disgusted with our own ignorance and short-sightedness. We are like a man who finds himself in the midst of a vast factory, crowded with the most complicated and ponderous machinery, where mighty engines of death threaten him on the right hand and on the left, before and behind; he makes a step in one direction, and receives a frightful blow; in another, and gets dreadfully lacerated; then he cries out in agony for someone to take him by the hand and lead him.

He teaches us to do it by showing us the incompetency of others to guide us. Some persons are conscious of their in-aptitude, and look to others to show them what to do with life. They turn to Plato or Socrates, to Seneca or Confucius, to Carlyle or to La Rochefoucauld, to this novelist or to that. In fact, there is hardly any one desirous of teaching but has some scholars. But, alas! they find no way that is in any degree irreproachable. Life is with them a succession of bruises and losses.

He teaches us to do his will, by letting us see it acted out in the beautiful life of Christ. - By giving us to understand that this will has reference, first and last, in great matters and small, to our own best estate and most assured happiness. - By unfolding to us the Scriptures. - By writing his word in our hearts. - By teaching us to abide in Christ. - By giving the Spirit to abide in us.