#it should be fucking standard that patients get that report automatically

[tardis--dreams]

Lord give me strength to call this doctor's office tomorrow morning and ask the world stupidest question

[eva-novakov]

“This is a love story?” Eva lifted her legs automatically when he reached the couch so he could sit down as close to her as possible. She pulled the edge of his shirt back down her thighs when her bare legs dropped onto his lap.

“Is that bad?” 

“No…I like love stories.” She thumbed through the book, until Isaac quickly inserted a hand between the pages. 

“I know what you’re doing. Stop it.” 

“Okay, I read the ending first, one time.” She peeled his hand away but flipped back to the beginning, glaring at him over the top of the book. 

“Sure, if one time means every time.” He smiled and smoothed a hand over her leg, turning to his nightly reports in the other.  Her smile was hidden behind the book. “It’s fantasy though, so not very accurate standards when it comes to love.” 

“I wouldn’t know.” She snorted. 

“What?” 

She sighed and lowered the book onto her lap. “I’m almost thirty years old and I’ve never been in love. How big of a loser does that make me?” Her laugh drifted into silence when she found him studying her. “I think I might have been once. But that ended badly. But you should definitely know right?” 

“Yeah, you’ll know.” 

This time it was her turn to study his face. “Have you ever been in love?” 

“Yes.” He said the word without hesitation. 

“Is it too personal to ask why it ended?” 

“Nothing is too personal for you to ask, Eva.” He focused on the hand that was sliding from her shin to her thigh and back again. “She died, a very long time ago.” 

Eva’s heart dropped into her stomach as she inhaled. “…Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-.” 

“It’s alright. It feels like a completely different life now.” 

“I’d like to hear about her someday.” 

“Whenever you want.” He gave her a small smile, brows knitting together. “What about the time you thought you were in love, that ended badly?” 

Her sigh was deep and heavy this time. “I’ve never opened that door for anyone.” 

“You don’t have to tell me.” 

He waited patiently, while she debated whether the journey back through that particular past was worth it. It wasn’t, but he was. 

“I thought we were going to get married one day, that’s why I thought I was in love. And looking back, there were signs that I either didn’t see or I ignored, maybe both. There was always a side of him that just… didn’t feel right. I was so young and he was only my second boyfriend so I was naïve as hell. I was already scarred when I met him, but he was just so confident and imposing, probably too charismatic. He had our whole class charmed, and he just set his sights on me and didn’t give up until there I was, letting someone in once again, past all the warning bells in my head.” 

“Anyway, it was the last day of our N7 test. There were only three of us left at the end. Somehow, the two of us found each other. In the moment, I thought it was fate. Now I realize it had to have been something else. Either way, we were almost out of it, it was almost over. I don’t remember a lot of it. This was the third day of no sleep and hardly no food or water. I remember...civilians that needed protecting. I remember the wave of enemies that were sent at us. I remember screaming at him, when he left me to defend them, by myself. I remember he didn’t even look back. And that’s the last thing I remember before I used the last of whatever was in me to throw  a shield around the civilians, then everything went black.” 

She glanced at him and appreciated the rage flashing in his eyes. “I don’t have to tell you how it works, the hostiles and the civilians were a simulation, the board sees everything, judges how you perform, etcetera. What they told us, is that the first person to make it to the drop zone would graduate. We were all supposed to be separate, not find each other. So I guess he was doing what he needed to, he just happened to think that using me as his own personal wall to victory was the way to go. The irony is that they purposely didn’t tell us that only the first few people who dropped out wouldn’t graduate. So he didn’t even need to do what he did, the rest of us ended up graduating anyway.” 

“Wait.” Isaac held up one finger and Eva had never seen his features display that much anger.  “That test is supposed to be accomplished in an ‘admirable and effective fashion’. That should have ended his career.” 

“I don’t know what he told the board. I don’t know if he threw my name in the fire or if he was fucking one of them or…I never could find out. And they didn’t let him graduate, but they let him try again the next year, and he passed. I went that year, to graduation, because I had friends that had achieved their N7. He wouldn’t even look at me. It was like I didn’t exist. Jackson Vance. Specialization: N7 Asshole.” 

Eva recognized the slow, focused breaths that Isaac was taking as the same ones she took when she needed to not kill someone. Maybe that’s why she kept talking, she was afraid of what he would say when she stopped. Maybe it was  because she wanted him to realize just how damaged she was before he got too deep.

“You know how we’re all required to sit so many therapy hours at ICT, just to make sure we’re holding up against the mind fucks you have to go through while there. Well my therapist told me I had ‘attachment issues’. To which I replied no shit.” She breathed a humorless chuckle and rolled a strand of still damp hair between her fingers. Anything to concentrate on besides his eyes. She chewed on her bottom lip, surprised and angry at the sudden emotion burning in her throat. She tried to breathe through it, but couldn’t stop the single droplet that found its way out of her right eye and she quickly brushed it off of her cheek. “Because in my brain, when something like that happens and your own parents didn’t want you, who will?” 

“Eva.” His hand found her cheek, stroking where the tear had been. She still couldn’t meet his eyes but she could hear the pain in his voice. “You deserve love, you know. You’re worth love.” 

Her fingers curled around his wrist, pulling his hand away to entwine her fingers through his, deciding to barrel through the door before it slammed shut again. “I need you to know I have a history of pulling away. When things get too good.” She shouldn’t have looked, because the emotion in his eyes made her swallow down another lump in her throat. “My job has been both a blessing and a curse. It rips me away from anyone that might want to keep me, but it allows me to run from anyone I might want to keep. All I can ask is that you be patient with me and don’t give up on me if I need to take it slow.” 

“I’m not going anywhere, no matter what speed.” The words slid earnestly through his lips before meeting hers when he tugged on her hand, pulling her up to meet him. “Thank you for telling me.” 

“I don’t know why I told you all of that. I don’t talk about my things. Keep whatever black magic you used to pull that out of me to yourself, sir.” 

“Now who has been reading too much fantasy?” He pulled her hand to his lips as she laid back down onto the couch. “I like it when you tell me your things.” 

“Okay well.” She sniffled, twirling the same lock of hair around a finger. “Can we not talk about sad things anymore?” 

“What do you want to talk about?” 

She saw him visibly collect himself before her eyes drifted shut. “Tell me more about the pink sand.” 

There was silence, then there was nothing but his hands on her and her favorite sound in the world. He told her about the places he had been, about all the shows he still wants her to watch, his favorite books. Her blood leveled, her heart beat slowed and her brain went quiet as she listened to him, sure that she could listen to him talk every second of every day and never tire of it. 

At some point Eva playfully pulled his hand up her thigh and he squeezed it, bringing a smirk to her lips. Later on in his rambling she pulled it up further and she knew they weren’t playing anymore when his words started to falter. She gasped softly when his fingertips slipped past the fabric covering the most sensitive parts of her. He was utterly silent and she writhed as he played with her, his finger brushing over her folds, thumb sweeping over her clit, simply feeling her. Her leg dropped off the side of the couch, spreading her legs and whispering his name. Her bottom lip poked into a pout when his finger stopped and she was jostled as he moved. Her eyes flew open when his mouth replaced his finger, her eyes falling to see his head between her legs. He pulled back just enough to remove her panties and then she threw her other leg onto the back of the couch and tangled her fingers into his hair as he devoured her. His fingers dug into her thighs and she moaned long and deep when his tongue slid inside her. His ministrations on her permeated the silence and she decided she could have more than one favorite sound. 

“Fuck…don’t stop.” She knew he wouldn’t, but she said it anyway in an effort to hold back as long as she could. She faintly wondered if it was possible for him to do this for the entire night and still do his job the next day. Finally one hand untangled from his hair to slap against his shoulder and she was unable to make a sound. He knew by now when she went silent she was close, and he latched onto her, sucking hard as she came around him. 

“I want more of you.” She pushed him out from between her legs and into a sitting position when she finally stopped shaking enough to move. 

Her – his – shirt dropped onto the floor as she moved to straddle him and his hands immediately went to her nipples, leaning forward to capture one in his mouth. Her chin rested on the top of his head, letting him suck on an entirely different part of her that made her shiver and shake in entirely new ways. He was already hard before she started to grind her crotch against his. When he moved to the other nipple, his tongue flattening against it before it disappeared into this mouth, she reached between them and pulled his length out of his shorts. His mouth hesitated, resting motionless against her skin when she started to stroke him. He sat back when she lifted herself slightly, helping her position herself over him. They both moaned when his tip pushed into her, until her mouth found his and they kissed away each other’s sounds when she sat fully onto him, his hard flesh disappearing inside her. She kissed him the entire time she rode him, bouncing on his lap, her hands in his hair and his hands everywhere. 

It was when she pulled away, leaning back with her hands moving to his knees so he could see her breasts move and see him sliding in and out of her that she heard the whine. She looked at him, mouth open with hard breaths, not sure she heard what she thought she did. Until he whined again and she came back to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and fucking him harder at the sound. She could definitely have more than one favorite.

“Isaac.” She stopped lifting herself up and down and sat on his lap, rocking her hips to grind him inside her. Her hands held his face, lips inches from his as she clenched around him. She was close, and she knew he was close. “If I try to run…please don’t let me.” Her entire body shook and she moaned against his mouth as she came, wanting all of him. 

He gasped for breath as he gave her everything. “I’ll never give you a reason to.”

[aquarianlights]

I’m So Sorry And I Really Hope No One Leaves Me After This But I Need To Tell SOMEONE

For those of you that know me on FB, please don’t spread this on FB. This is a tumblr-only post. I’m usually pretty open about everything with people that know me irl, but. . .this in particular is not something I can let people who know me irl know. . . coz they’d leave me. And I’d be alone. In fact, I expect to lose a ton of followers after posting this. . .I’m gonna put it under a read more cut coz it’s so fucking horrible and you’re all going to be terrified of me now. . . I haven’t even told Chelle or Janita. . .or any of my roommates. . .whom I all trust 100%. . .because I know everyone is gonna leave me after this. And I just hope to fucking GOD that Chelle, Tajh, and Jeff (my roommates) are out of the house when these people come to evaluate me. . .because I haven’t told them about it yet.

Anyways. . .if you want to hate me and be scared of me for the rest of your existence, read below the cut. . .

So. . .I got a call the other day. And it’s been weighing on me since then. I told Tiffy almost immediately after it happened but she’s the only one I told coz I knew she wouldn’t abandon me over this.

Since I’ve either been in wards or in therapy ever since I turned 18, I haven’t needed an annual “evaluation” by a professional who takes his/her assessment back to a board of professionals to evaluate. . .something. I’m not sure what. They didn’t clarify over the phone. I’m THINKING it may be on whether I am fit to live in society or not? But I do have catastrophic thinking, so I may be thinking worst case scenario here and it could be something totally trivial and I’m just panicking.

But they called me. . .and told me that since I’m not in therapy and haven’t been and have not been in a ward for over x amount of time, I need to have annual visits by professionals to be evaluated for mental stability. If I were to get into therapy, get in with a psychiatrist for med management, and/or end up in a ward again. . .I wouldn’t need the evaluations. In fact, I did not even KNOW about the evaluations until this phone call because I HAVE always been in a ward or in therapy since the 18-19 age when this was initiated.

Apparently. . .in either my first or second adult institutionalization. . .I was diagnosed as sociopathic. Like. . .a straight up sociopath. No one told me this. No one even bothered to fucking MENTION this to me. And so. . .that went in my record when I was 18 or 19 and some sort of organization decided to keep tabs on me because of that diagnosis and the things I had done/said to earn that diagnosis. Apparently there’s not that many boxes that were left unchecked when checking when trying to diagnose me.

This went on my record. . .and was passed on to every therapist I’ve had and every ward I’ve been in. When I saw psychiatrists and psychologists, they knew and apparently thought I knew, so they never brought it up because I never brought it up. Which...is really fucked up. And the psychs in the wards always had me as a high risk patient with the bright red, yellow, or orange bracelet (depending on what they use) indicating I was high risk. I always thought it was coz I am schizo. But, no, apparently being schizo does not necessarily make you automatically high risk. . .but being a sociopath does. Why? I’m not sure. It’s not inherently bad to be a sociopath. . .is it? And I’ve been trying very hard to change the things about myself that make me qualify as sociopathic without even realizing they were attributed to that issue. . .disorder? Is it even called a disorder? Fuck, I don’t know the first thing about sociopaths/sociopathy.

But anyways. . .Apparently they kept putting me on two strong af antipsychotics at a time in wards because they were scared I’d do something or snap or whatever the fuck. Apparently they tried to talk to me about it and drill me on things I’ve done relating to stereotypical sociopathic behaviour but I’ve always put on a different personality for wards, so I had no idea they were talking about THAT. They never actually said the word “sociopath” so HOW WOULD I FUCKING KNOW??? HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW? HOW? HOW HOW HOW??? AND I’M BEING BLAMED FOR NOT KNOWING!!!!!

ANYWAYS. . .I got this phone call from the organization that has been keeping track on my mental health record since I was 18-19 (Idr which). It was basically a guy informing me that I needed my annual evaluation soon after introducing himself and telling me who he was and the organization he was associated with (which, I am familiar with coz I have worked with them before in crisis situations). And I was like “The fuck??? WHAT evaluation?” And he was like “Mental health evaluation. You know, for your issue?” Him trying to be discreet just made me mad and offended, tbh. But I didn’t show it. I was basically just like “What, you mean my schizo disorder? You can say it. You can say I’m schizo.” Like, it pissed me off that he was avoiding the word. Because I was like ‘it’s not a big deal that I’m schizo. why the fuck is an apparent professional avoiding the fucking word?’ I had no idea that he didn’t mean that at all. He hesitated on the phone and said “No, I’m talking about your sociopath diagnosis.” Which is when I almost dropped the phone. I took it seriously for a second and then burst out laughing and was like “WOW okay, thanks for the laugh, but no seriously, what evaluation are you talking about??” I legit thought this guy was joking to lighten the mood.

He was not. He repeated himself. And when I hesitated and made a confused, shocked noise. . .he then said “No one told you about this? You’ve been diagnosed when you were 18 when you were at MHRC for the first time and psychs that have seen you outside and inside wards have kept current with that diagnosis as they must report it to us that you are stable and medicated.” And I swear to god, if my life were a cartoon, my jaw would’ve been through the fucking floor. . .I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t think. Luckily, no one was home when this phone call happened or I would’ve been fucked. Because only my speaker phone works so I literally HAVE to have all my conversations on speaker phone. So. . .if anyone was home, even with the doors closed, they would have heard things. And I would’ve been fucked. There’s no way anyone would let a diagnosed sociopath stay in their home. . .even medicated. Even my absolute best friends. . .they’d probably be scared for their lives, EVEN WITH KNOWING ME AND KNOWING I AM OKAY AND SANE AND FINE AND MEDICATED AND A GOOD ASSET TO THE HOUSEHOLD. Still. . .just that diagnosis alone is going to fuck my ENTIRE LIFE over. . .

But apparently I have to have a yearly visit to evaluate my mental status with this organization or one of its affiliates. Because they’re cracking down hard on a) the war on drugs, b) school shootings, c) murders/serial murders/bodily harm/etc. . .all of which are highly associated with sociopathy. APPARENTLY. I’m not even sure if that’s true. That’s just what they told me. How credible are they? WHO THE FUCK KNOWS. THEY FUCKING LOCKED ME UP WHEN I WAS JUST TRYING TO FUCKING GET HELP ABOUT 2 YEARS AGO IN A CRISIS SITUATION SO I MEAN FUCK THEM.

And NOW they’re fucking getting an affiliate association here in LA to come fucking do my evaluation and report back to them??? Is this even a legal thing they can do? Is this a state-regulated thing? Coz, I mean, I know NC has these laws. . .but, I’M NOT IN NC. I mean, my residency is either in NC or FL. I’m not sure which. But. . .I’M IN NEW ORLEANS RIGHT NOW AND HAVE BEEN FOR OVER A MONTH. I know that doesn’t make me a resident, but. . .since they do have affiliate associations in the area. . .does that mean it’s a government regulated thing??? Coz they can’t just. . .if it’s state regulated, they can’t just. . .

How is this even fucking legal? To come literally to wherever I’m living, come in my home, and count my fucking psych meds and go through the paper trails of my psych history and medications. . .and to “make sure” I’m still medicated and make sure I’m not on drugs and make sure this and that and do an evaluation on whether I am mentally stable enough FOR THEIR STANDARDS or not.

FUCK THIS. Absolutely FUCK THIS.

Okay. . .I have to literally accept that I have been diagnosed as a sociopath by every professional I have ever come into contact with and all of them kept it from me. I have to come to terms with the fact I am legally obligated to stay on medication and can be penalized if I do not. I have to accept that I have an annual evaluation with fucking whoever the hell who basically just shoves their fucking opinions onto a legal document saying whether THEY PERSONALLY THINK I’m stable or not.

I don’t FEEL like I’m a sociopath or even have any sort of sociopathic symptoms. I don’t THINK I am a sociopath. I feel like that is a SERIOOOOOUS misdiagnosis and they should fucking reevaluate that. In fact, I KNOW I’m not a sociopath.

So this is absolute bullshit that they’re putting me through this. And since I have a legal diagnosis, if someone (like an employer or something) were to ask. . .wouldn’t I be legally obligated to tell them? This is going to fuck so many things up in my life. . .and if my roommates happen to be home when these people come to fucking evaluate me. . .they’re going to find out. They’re going to fucking find out. And I’m going to get kicked out. And no one is ever going to let me live with them or let me near them or ever let me fucking be friends with them AGAIN. I am going to be alone and abandoned by everyone I know and love because of this. Because of a fucking misdiagnosis.

And it kills me. . .because I can’t do anything to avoid this happening. Even though it IS a misdiagnosis and they’re 200% wrong, I can’t stop them because they THINK they are in the right. And they have the power, not me.

The one fucking phone call just shattered my life into fucking pieces. And could possibly leave me homeless or permanently institutionalized.

I’m scared. . .but I’m moreso angry. Angry at their fucking incompetence. I know me better than any of them know me. So don’t you think I would, personally, know if I were a goddamn sociopath? Yeah, I absolutely would. So fuck them and their dumbass OPINIONS. Coz that’s all they are. . .opinions.

Who the hell is that stupid to think I, ME, KILLIAN, AM A FUCKING SOCIOPATH? Who the hell is that goddamn stupid? Not saying ignorant; ACTUALLY STUPID.

Fuck, I’m mad. Scared and upset. . .but mostly just fucking mad. . .

Listen to me, not them. I’m right, they’re wrong. I may have a legal diagnosis, but they’re still wrong. They’re fucking wrong so please just trust me when I say this isn’t true and a legal diagnosis like this means NOTHING.

[skepticraven]

GOP vs Chicago

I know this is a long post but stick with me. I think you’ll find it informative. 

Turns out Chicago doesn't have the highest murder rate in the country. Anyone who says that is manipulating the facts. Chicago has the 3rd largest population. Everybody dies so more people equals more deaths by cancer, heart disease, car accidents, and yes, murder. However, you have to factor in the population with the number of gun deaths to determine whether dying there by the bullet is more likely than anywhere else.  On a per capita basis, Chicago’s shooting epidemic is not nearly as severe as the violence in many other American cities. In the words of Trevor Noah, “Would you rather be in a big city with 5 Pennywise the Clowns running around. Or in an Uber carpool with just one?” (See chart below before reading on).

Gun deaths anywhere are a problem. A big one. But gun deaths in Chicago aren't so common that it warrants Trump and other Republicans talking about that city and only that city. So why are they talking about Chicago all the fucking time? There are 3 main carefully calculated reasons:

1) Illinois is a blue state which is a more comfortable point of criticism for Republicans than is cities like St. Louis or New Orleans, which are in Red states. There is no way Republican politicians would publicly draw a line between red states with lax gun laws and high per capita rates of gun violence. That is the reality they are trying to distract you from.

2) Also, Republicans want you to believe that Chicago has the strictest gun laws in the country (which isn't true but we'll get to that). Republicans believe they can use the lie about Chicago having the strictest gun laws, combined with the lie about Chicago having the highest rate of gun deaths, in order to discredit any suggestion of regulating firearms. The problem is that Chicago doesn't have the most gun deaths, nor do they have the toughest gun laws in the country. People can own handguns in Chicago. You can get a permit to carry a concealed weapon in Chicago if you take an extremely short class. Their supposedly strict gun laws boil down to a few things: requiring a state-issued "Firearm Owners Identification" card to purchase a weapon. (That said, Chicago residents can just drive a couple hours away to skirt that regulation). Stolen weapons must be reported within 72 hours. There is an assault weapons ban only in Cook County, Illinois. New York and Los Angeles have stricter gun laws and both have a lower per capita firearm-related death tolls. 

Now would nationwide stricter gun laws eliminate ALL gun violence? No. Of course not, but when has a complete ceasing of criminal behavior been the point of any law? The idea has always been a reduction of a negative behavior. There will always the black market but nationwide regulation would stop some people. I mean, there are people on the terrorist watch list who can buy a gun because we regulate so little. Any rational person can see the problem with that. We know for a fact that gun regulation can and does reduce the number of gun-related deaths when said regulation is implemented nationwide. We know this by looking at the levels of firearm-related fatalities in other countries. (See graph below). The countries who regulate have less violence. The number of gun deaths in Germany, for example, is about on par with how many Americans die from being hit with a falling object. A Japanese person is as likely to be shot and killed, as an American is to be struck by lightning.

3) The third reason the GOP targets Chicago with misinformation is that Obama is from Chicago. The Trump Administration is systematically dismantling or trying to dismantle everything Obama or his administration ever did: The Paris Climate Agreement, The Iran Deal, ObamaCare, the ban on oil and gas drilling in Alaska's Arctic National Wildlife Refuge, allowing transgender people to serve military, the standards that were set to ensure livestock deemed “USDA Organic” is treated more humanely than those in conventional farming, etc. etc. etc. Be it big or small, Trump wants to end it all. So, going after Chicago is a way for Trump and the Republicans to say Obama failed. In fact, there is footage in that Trevor Noah clip I posted above of them blaming the gun violence in Chicago on Obama. Trump went so far as to say that Chicago is worse than Afghanistan. That seems to awfully disrespectful to the soldiers serving in Afghanistan but then again, the military was only ever a political chess piece to Trump.

                                         SUGGESTIONS

We do a lot of arguing in this country about guns but rarely do we get into the specifics of what people mean when they say we need stricter gun control legislation. So I thought it was important to clarify that. Republicans frequently fear monger about the Liberals wanting to take all guns but that just is not true for the overwhelming majority of us. Obviously, there are differences of opinion between liberal-to-liberal but this is my thoughts as to what needs to be implemented: 

-Mandatory background checks for firearm purchases (even for private sales and gun shows) are necessary to stop mentally ill folks, felons, people on the terrorist watch list, etc. from getting guns.

-We need to allow mental health professionals to report people to the police who could be a threat to the public or themselves, without fear of being sued for a HIPPA violation. For example, if they have expressed suicidal/homicidal ideations in the last year or they are unable to tell reality from hallucinations/delusions. Depending on the situation maybe their access to firearms is only temporarily cut off and any weapons they owned are stored in a secure location. Other patients may need to be indefinitely restricted.

-We need to increase communication between gun stores and police. For example, if someone is buying enough weapons and ammunition to create their own little Waco, its worth making the cops aware. Doesn’t mean the cops need to automatically take the guns from whoever purchased them but they should at least be able to check out the purchaser.

-Assault weapons should be banned. Those are not weapons used for hunting nor are they practical, easily mobile weapons for self-defense. Nobody is coming to rob your house with a small army that you need to be able to fire off 90-120 rounds per minute. And public safety supersedes your temporary entertainment at a gun range. Get a different gun. Perhaps there can be some kind of program where people get money for surrendering assault weapons voluntarily and illegal gun owners would not be penalized for handing the gun or guns over voluntarily. The financial incentive would obviously only be a fraction of the original purchase price (like a pawn store) but if the firearms could be repurposed for military use, it would save tax dollars in the long run. 

-Report your firearm if stolen. Do so within 12 hours of when you become aware that it is missing so perhaps the thief can be apprehended before he uses it.

-If you're a parent or guardian, keep your weapon securely away from unsupervised children, in a gun safe or similar secure storage container.

-Outlaw silencers. Why give people the opportunity to conceal their crime? If you are concerned about your hearing, wear earplugs or protective silencing ear muffs when you are at the gun range. 

-Trump recently undid yet another program supported by Obama when he pulled funding from Life After Hate, an organization that helped White Nationalists and Neo-Nazis get out of violent extremist groups. That absolutely needs to be reinstated. In fact, I would give extra funds to this group and similar organizations that focus on getting people out of gangs, cartels, and other forms of criminal organizations. Some people could be persuaded away from committing violent crimes if they felt like they had another choice. Time to give them one.