#my sad precious wet noodle of a boy

[parkitaco]

tonight i am thinking about how will said “where’s dustin right now? see, you don’t know, and you don’t care, and obviously he doesn’t either and i don’t blame him” during the rain fight and then by s4 dustin was the party member that mike was closest with

[historia-vitae-magistras]

I read your matt getting scurvyfied fic and oofff my heart 🥺. He is so precious, and arthur finally throwing him a bone lol and trying to get him to take care of himself. whats going on in arthurs head in that moment when he realises matt is really not well? does he feel guilty or upset or just like c'mon boy theres no need for that :/

Ahhhh, that is the "Arthur getting his head out of his ass" fic. When the treaty of 1782 was signed, Matthew was returned North after spending most of the war being dragged around by Arthur because he was not trusted to be loyal (for a good reason, he did save Alfred's life at the expense of British blood and treasure more than once.) Quebec City and Montreal became bases for mostly Scottish-funded expeditions of French and Indigenous (often mixed) fur trappers, and Matthew was more or less left to his own devices. Alasdair gave him the job of keeping track of what came in and out of the port with the family accounts. The world lived much closer to nature back then, the grain supply was heavily dependent on the weather, and there were many lean years in the first decades after the British handover. 'Spring fever' comes from the scurvy that sets in at the end of winter before things grow properly. It's just how the world was.

These are all things Arthur is accustomed to, things he accounted for with Alfred most years, making sure he had a good year-long supply of everything he needed. No one really did that for Matt. Things in Europe are changing fast; Arthur is furious with Alfred and suspicious of Matt, and the breakneck speed of events leaves Matt in the dust; getting along mostly all right but not exactly a priority. And this visit... it's Arthur taking his head out of his ass. He's been at sea for a long time, has weathered the post-Amrev slump, he's emerging from the damage, and it's kind of a realization of "oh, fuck, I should probably make sure the second one's still alive."

It's not really guilt. Everyone's lives are like that back then. Maybe a grimace because it wouldn't have to be like this if he paid attention. But there's affection more than anything. Matt sucked it up and didn't complain even when it was apparent what rough shape he and the entire province were in. Matt offered what he had, didn't ask, and didn't throw a fit. There's something profoundly fucked up in how much Arthur approves of that, but he does very much approve. And Matthew was very happy to see him. A quarter starved, clearly suffering, a touch delirious with a real conversation, and mostly drunk on half a glass of small cider, he's not being nervous and traumatized. Things Arthur has usually interpreted as Matt being a French sort of sullen and ungrateful. Instead, Matt's more himself. He's chatty, asking questions, affectionate, attentive, and curious.

Acquiring some oranges and some food is something Arthur can actually do for the boy. He's a shit father on the emotional side of things and moreover a reluctant parent with Matt. But something like scurvy? That, he's an expert in, seawolf that he is. Feeding the little French welp is something he can do, a solution to a problem he's comfortable with. Matthew isn't very much like Alasdair or Francis at all, and Arthur is a little surprised that he cares as much as he does. The sad wet noodle child is pleasant, much to his surprise (even if it's the third time they've done this), and maybe Arthur should take an interest. Matt's biggest problem in life (that he doesn't cause himself) is the inability of others to separate him from Francis when he's little and Alfred when he's older. When finally Arthur's able to, they get along like a house on fire.

[wonderful-bellies]

Pokemon Battle:

(Happy Birthday! Here’s a gift! :D)

In the pokemon world, a woman named Medli, who was a giant nerd, where holding her birthday with her friends. One of these people was the pokemon trainer, Laria. She was wearing black and purple dress with a little bow, her skin was dark brown, her eyes ruby red and her long hair that down to her thighs were green. She also had a little golden necklace. She was taller than Medli, but Medli was lucky that she wasn’t the type to tease people for being shorter than her, like using them as an amrest or something.

  They also had their pokemons with them. Both Medli and Laria had six each. Medli had Lucien the Lugia, Nidel the Serperior, Neyo the shiny Mew, Nashyl the Seviper, Vihro'sae the Liepard and Jin the Talonflame.

Laria meanwhile had Sammy, a shiny gardevoir who was also among those known as a “perma-mega”, meaning he’s permanently a mega pokemon. Alongside him, she also had Miara the Mew, Gal the Galvantula, Ethan the Gastrodon, Grass the Gogoat and Basal the Scorbunny.

  After having eaten for now as well as opening gifts and presents, walked Laria up to Medli. “Hey.” She said, looking a bit nervous, though that’s pretty normal. “I was wondering, if you’d want a quick battle, just for fun?” She asked gently. Medli nodded and stood up. “Let’s make a special rule, we’re only allowed to send out a pokemon once, so it’ll be best two out of three. We’ll figure something out if it somehow ends up being a draw.” She said, and Laria accepted.

  The two of them found a good spot to start the battle. Kehsun, another serperior, flipped a coin, and it would be Medli who send out the first pokemon.

  The pokemon she send out was Lucien the Lugia, he was a big boy with large wings. He looked a bit nervous, or maybe he was just shy.

Laria meanwhile send out Gal the Galvantula. The drider- like pokemon stood on her four large legs, while she fumbled her fingers as she looked at Lucien. Truth be told, she always had a bit of a crush on the big dude, but couldn’t really say it.

  Gal would have the type advantage over Lucien, so let’s see where this will go:

Lucien started out by flying into the air, as he just dodged some webbing being shot at him from Gal. He fired an ice beam back, she tried to dodge, but her large body made her a big target, her legs ended up being frozen. He landed and walked towards her, but when got close, she shot an electro ball at him. He was down on a critical, but then he put his hands together and smashed into the earth, using the move Earthquake on her, making her faint. Lucian walked over and took the drider, and gently began to swallow her. While he was taller than her, in terms of body mass was she bigger, so it was a bit of a challenge of getting her down, especially the abdomen. Once she was inside, he patted his gut and let out a sigh. “That was good fight my friend, you did a good job, you almost won.” He told her and walked out to the side line to watch the next battle. Inside his large belly, was Gal blushing, not really saying anything yet.

  Lucien watched as Kehsun flipped a coin yet again. “You know, you can speak to me whenever you want right?” he said, though Gal was still quiet until she finally made up her mind. “It’s not because i’m sad, i’m just shy, and i don’t know what to say when i want to talk to you.” She answered him, and he gently stroked his stomach and thus her. “Take your time, just know if you ever need something, just ask. There’s no shame in it.” He said in a friendly tone and laid down.

  The next round began and this time it was Medli’s dumb boi, the naga Nidel, a serperior like Kehsun. He gave a cocky smile as he looked at his opponent, the gastrodon Ethan. This time it was Laria who should send out first. Ethan simply gave a shrug and a smile, he had always been pretty laid back, some joke with it’s because he’s a slugtaur-like creature, even though that’s not the case.

Nidel charged ahead, while Ethan used rain dance. Nidel immediately wrapped around Ethan, thinking he had trapped him, but Ethan was just like “nah dude” and slid right out of his hold. Ethan gave him a smirk and immediately shot water gun at him, even if it was ineffective. Nidel knowing that he did this to annoy him, charged at him with leaf blade and got a critical hit. “Nice shot.” Ethan said still keeping that laid back smirk on his face, “but now it’s my turn”, he said as his body was surrounded by an aura, and soon he charged forward at high speed himself, catching Nidel so much off guard that he actually got scared for a second, it was giga impact. It connected perfectly, and send Nidel flying. He was out of breath, and soon he saw Ethan over him. He tried to wrap around him again, but Ethan just slid right out. He grabbed Nidel by the shoulders and began to swallow the green naga. Nidel protested, but soon he found himself inside the gastrodon’s stomach. Ethan slurped up his tail as if it was a noodle. Afterwards, he found a tree to lay up against and rest, while Nidel was still complaining.

  As he was laying down he stroked his belly, but he was getting slightly tired it and pushed Nidel down to his second belly. He hummed a bit for himself and now leaned back yet again. “You’ll just have to relax.” he said, knowing full well that Nidel would NOT be calming down any time soon.

  Third round started, and this time it was the two mews, Neyo and Miara. Miara was the more experienced, but she’d rather perform than fighting, so she convinced everyone that they would do that instead. First it was a dance off, and while Neyo was awkward was nervous and awkward at first, he soon got the hang of it, and started to dance for real. Neyo was a bit more elegant while Miara was a bit of a showoff. A vote was held and it was Neyo who won the performance. Miara just gave him a smile, “You did good my friend. You did good. However, when she touched him, she felt how soft and squishy he was, he was no mew, he was a ditto. She was surprised at first, but then she quickly put the pieces together, and gave him a comforting smile. “There’s no need to hide who you are, we all love you like you are. You’re perfect as you are.” She told him. At first he was hesitant, but soon his form loosened up, to show that he was indeed a ditto. He slowly began to envelop her body and absorbed her into his own. “Are you okay?” He asked as he walked to sit besides Lucien. “Yes i am, don’t worry.” She replied.

  Sammy looked on from the sideline. “Seems like Laria lost.” He said to Kehsun who watched from a chair he had taken with him out. “Seems so, tough they all did a good job. I’m surprised she never called you over, since that you’re her most powerful pokemon.” Kehsun commented and looked up at the male gardevoir, who came with a shrug as he placed his hands on his black “robe”. “I’m surprised myself, but oh well.” He said and took a bite of cake that was shared among them to the party.

  Laria looked over at where the pokemon stood. The only pokemon over there that was her’s was Gastrodon, with a belly full of an angry Nidel. The other two, Lucien and Neyo, was Medli’s, which meant that she was the winner.

Laria walked up to Medli and gave her a handshake. “It was good fight, and you honestly deserve that win.” She said with a smile. Medli smiled back brightly. “Thank you, you were good yourself, however, you do know what the winner gets right?” Medli said than asked. “Aren’t you a bit short for that?” Laria asked in one of her rare moments of sarcasm. “I MAY BE SHORT, BUT I’M MIGHTY AND STRONG!” Medli answered back with a bit of a hesifit, but soon calmed down to an adorable pout that basically screamed for headpats. Which Laria provided.

  Laria took off her glasses and placed them on a rock, and proceeded to bend down in her knees so she was more face to face with Medli. She felt Medli’s hands on her shoulders, and soon felt the warmth and wetness come around her as she entered her friend’s mouth and slowly travelled down into her belly. Medli gulped her down more and more, and soon was Laria all the way down, leaving a large hanging gut for Medli to either cuddle or carry around. “And the winner is Medli!” Shouted Medli in playful triumph. “Happy birthday you nerd.” Said Laria. “Thank you, you hypocrite.” Medli replied back, as in her mind Laria was the bigger nerd of the two.

AAAAAA I’m sorry friend this is the cutest shit??? and you indulged me and let me be the pred ayyyy!! Damn RIGHT preds can be short lol. I loved this so much friend i was smiling like a doof while reading this. Lucian and Neyo were so heckin precious and i love Laria and her pokes aaa thank yooooouu <3

[jimlingss]

Brass & Strings [2]

Episode 1 - Episode 2 - Episode 3 Words: 2.9k Genre: Fluff, Humour (?), Slice of Life, Music!Au, College!Au Summary: Have you ever wondered what happens to the mean girl after high school? Where do they go, where do they end up? More importantly, what happens when they get mixed up with the classic nerd that's always too nervous to answer 'no'? Things become a lot more complicated when Kim Namjoon encounters you. They dub you as 'bat-shit insane' and you're not ashamed.

Cr.

Namjoon’s hands are within his lap and he peers down at them, twiddling his fingers and looking anywhere but you. No matter how much you lean down, trying to lock gazes and how intense your stare is, he refuses to meet your eyes. “I-Is there something you need from me?”

You lean back, watching as his glasses slide down the slope of his nose and he pushes it back up again hastily. “No. There’s something you need from me.”

It was quite a feat to catch Kim Namjoon. Every time you approached him, he would run in the opposite direction. When you stared at him in class, he would wipe his sweat away and excuse himself to the bathroom. It took you cornering him in the library after two days and demanding that he follow you to the coffee shop to be able to sit where you are now.

It’s not like you could blame him though. You did splash steaming coffee all over him.

Before the timid man in front of you can ask you what you mean, you slide your phone across the table. Namjoon follows the device and you motion him to press play. He swallows hard, holding it into his hands and his doe irises glue to the video.

Within a few sips of your iced drink, a scan of your surroundings and a short seconds spent gazing outside, when you redirect your vision to him, Namjoon’s face has outright paled.

The harpist gently puts down your phone and his pupils shake, hands back into his lap.

“Did you enjoy that? It definitely caused quite the scene. People became really mad.” You smirk at how his eyes momentarily flicker to your plush lips pressed against the straw. When your tongue pokes out to wet your mouth, he gulps and looks back into your eyes. “Our fellow classmates were about to create an entire riot. After all, how could a musician, no matter what they play, treat an instrument like that. They wanted to...hmm..what was it? Oh yeah, throw this person out of the faculty, make them pay, blacklist them from the music community.”

“That would certainly be a shame, wouldn’t it? To have your passion slip away from your fingers…” You sigh sheepishly, chin resting in your propped hand as your eyes glimmer. “You know, Namjoon, flutes are fairly expensive. The professional ones usually cost more than seventeen thousand but hand-crafted, custom made from professionals, golden plated instruments cost even more so.”

He releases a shaky breath, beads of sweat building at his forehead. The man is so easy to manipulate, so easy to play with, it’s almost sad. Namjoon nearly evokes a sense of guilt within you. “What do you want?”

A giant smile pulls at the corners of your lips. “I’m glad you’re willing to discuss this. But I’ve heard some rumours about you, Namjoon.”

The harpist raises his chin and blinks at you with wide eyes. “R-r-rumours?”

“You’re a science major, aren’t you? Well, you were.” You cross your arms, looking out the glass window again as you tiredly re-tell your sob story for him to hear. “You see, my parents aren’t all on board with me and my music major. Long story short, they’ve made me double major in something I don’t care about and frankly those classes and those assignments are a waste of my precious time.”

Namjoon puts two and two together. “So you want me to take those classes for you?”

“Bingo.” You snap your fingers, grinning at him. “You really are smart.”

“How will that even work? I-I can’t do that for you. It’s...It’s against the rules! T-that’s cheating! We could get thrown out.”

You wave your hand, motioning him to silence. “It’s impossible to become expelled, trust me. And we can figure out the details. But are you on board or not?”

Some might call you spoiled, a bitch or an absolute brat. And you can’t really disagree. Born with a golden spoon, every single inch pampered since birth, your life has been set. Anything and everything that you want, you end up getting. And it seems like this is one of the many times that things won’t change.

“C-can you give me some time to think? Just a little bit to consider…..please?” Namjoon pushes up his glasses again, stealing a glimpse of you as his teeth sink into his bottom lip. You muse that the harpist could be even more cute if he wasn’t wearing such a dirty flannel and he combed his hair for once. At the moment, he looks no less than a pitiful beggar and it allows you to give some mercy to him.

“Fine.” You roll your eyes, heaving out the answer like it exhausts you. “I’ll give you twenty four hours. By then, if you refuse or you don’t answer me, I’ll release the video.” Namjoon nods and you add on, “also, I know you wouldn’t but in the case you try to delete it or steal my phone somehow, I’ve got it backed up at several locations. Don’t test me.”

Namjoon observes as your red stained lips draw into yet another smirk. You slide your shades onto your face, swiping your mobile device while snatching your Versace handbag. With a hair flip and your heels clacking against the tile, the cafe door opens and slams, the bell jangling violently.

The harpist holds his head within his hands, groaning and melting into a spineless mess.

//

He wonders what sin he must’ve committed in his past life to deserve this.

It didn’t make sense. Namjoon has helped grannies across the street, hold their grocery bags all the way to their house. He’s given his seat up on the train and the bus for pregnant ladies, children and the elderly when he had pulled all-nighters, ready to pass out at any given chance. Every time there was a charity, Namjoon had forked out the bills he could. He’s the type of person to help at any given chance - to bring wallets he’s found on the street to the police station, to spend an hour with a crying child, consoling them and looking for their parents.

Namjoon wasn’t a saint but he’s not the devil. Not like you are; you’re practically a demon that showed up from nowhere.

“Jimin. I know you’re mad at me but I need your advice right now. More than ever, so can you at least look at me?” Namjoon puts his hand on the shoulders of his roommate and he shakes the shorter man. “Please!”

The cute college student scoffs and brushes his hands away. “Do you even know what you left me to do, Joon?! I had to clean up your mess like always! And I had to scrub the toilets! Why don’t you ever get that job? How is this even fair?” He whines, jumping up and down and wiggling his limbs in protest. Namjoon tries his best not to crack a smile at how cute the angry boy is. “I’m serious!”

“I know.” Namjoon attempts to sympathize. “And I’m sorry, Jimin. You know I can’t help my clumsiness. I promise I’ll clean up after myself next time. Just right now, I need you.”

Jimin mumbles something incoherent and he walks off to the kitchen, handing Namjoon the drying towel. As the latter man unloads the broken dishwasher, the former tucks the plates away in the cabinets. “Jimin, have you ever heard of a L/N Y/N?”

“L/N...sounds familiar.” He frowns and stands on the tips of his toes to put away the mugs. “Oh isn’t that the name of one of the chemistry professors?”

“Professors?” Namjoon frowns. “No. She’s a classmate of mine.”

“Y/N….” Jimin hums and tilts his head to the side. “I think I know who you’re talking about…. Yeah, I’ve seen her around. She’s scary.”

The boy in glasses grimaces and agrees.

Namjoon has never had many friends. Besides the fact that he’s always been shy and timid, those who became friendly with him most frequently had ulterior motives. They’d use him for his brain, answers to homework and to shoulder the burden of entire projects. These people never stuck around or lasted in his life. And despite transferring to a completely new faculty, no one in the science department would ever miss him. In Namjoon’s mind, he isn’t very memorable.

There is, however, one individual who he’s sort of befriended.

“Y/N?” The tenor saxophonist leans in closer, an appalled expression on his face. “Why would you ever want to know about her?”

Taehyung is someone Namjoon met in his Chromatic Harmony class, a mischievous boy who regularly brings in Chinese takeout, obnoxiously slurping noodles as the professor speaks, gaining the attention of everyone around and he almost always falls into a food coma afterwards. Ever since Taehyung stumbled in and took the last seat next to the harpist and asked Namjoon if he had toilet paper on him, Namjoon’s been saving him a seat.

The two of them get along pretty well for one person being a huge extrovert and the other a closed off introvert - opposites attract after all. “I’m just curious…”

“She’s good. One of the best...maybe even the best.” Taehyung murmurs as the both of them turn down the hallway. “Her knowledge on music composition and her playing is impeccable. The conductor never has anything to say or nitpick about her technique. If she was a violinist, she’d probably beat Jennie and be the concertmistress. I’ve also heard rumours that she’s a musical genius? I wouldn’t doubt that either.”

“But Y/N’s horrible.” The blonde man stops all together, causing Namjoon to halt hot on his toes. Taehyung darts his head around and pulls the other off to the side, whispering under his breath, “everyone’s a bit afraid of her, even the conductor himself. I’ve heard she made freshmen cry before and a few people drop out. Her tongue is sharp and she’s a mean bitch but no one can say anything or argue why she can’t be here. She’s a hard worker and naturally talented at what she does. It’s like heaven favours her or something. Seriously though, if I were you, I’d steer clear from Y/N.”

Taehyung warns Namjoon one more time, “they say she can manipulate other people’s emotions to get what she wants and she’s frighteningly good at it.”

Like an enchantress, people don’t realize that they’ve followed your demands until it’s over. It always feels like you’re the one doing them a favour. By merely being in their presence, they’ve already felt privileged. It’s a talent. It’s a gift.

Namjoon didn’t even realize he had been played right into your hands until it hit him.

But even if he wants to escape, he can’t.

He’s completely trapped.

“Have you made a decision?” Your fingernails tap against the wooden surface, making him more and more anxious. Namjoon is a marionette doll, trying to cut his own strings to freedom but with a simple smirk from your lips, his arms are pulled back into position and he’s helpless.

He finally understands why people call you scary.

Your twinkling eyeballs bore into his skin. Namjoon rubs his clammy palms together.

He loves music. He can’t give it up. If attending classes for you is all he needs to pursue his passion then...

A good three seconds pass and he finally cracks under the pressure. “Okay.”

“Great.” Your grin is bright, getting what you want as usual. For a second, he thinks you resemble a child ripping presents on Christmas. And you would certainly retain the innocent image if not for his perception of you as the devil incarnate. “There’s no need to make things complicated by writing out a formal contract, right? If you go against my plans then I’ll release the video. As simple as that.”

Namjoon gulps and nods. His glasses are full of stains but he still pushes them up, focusing his pupils in his lap. You’re puzzled as to why he often doesn’t look you in the eyes. “I’ll give you my schedule. Most of the time attendance is for grades but all they do is pass around a sheet of paper so you can just write my name down, yeah? And you can do my homework and projects. We’ll figure out more details later for exams and tests. I don’t really care about getting good marks in those classes so don’t break your back over it.”

“Aren’t you afraid of getting caught?”

“As I said before...it’s impossible for me to get thrown out. At least for me...” You take a good look at him. Today, he’s wearing an worn sweatshirt with streaks of paint blemishing the gray fabric and the letters on front are illegible from being washed a few hundred times. It looks like a rag you would use. “And I can protect you too. Don’t worry about things like being expelled.”

As your smile grows, one that resembles an angel ironically, Namjoon truly wonders what on earth he did to deserve this.

It hadn’t been a full day before you were already terrorizing his life.

All you had done was call him shouting ‘get over here!’ and while Namjoon was stunned and confused, you hung up on him and his phone lit up with a text of an address. Now he was running to you like some personal slave. “Is everything okay?!”

His glasses are hanging half off his face. He was in the middle of a shower, shampoo and soap studs still coating the strands of his hair. His white hoodie is half drenched from not drying his body off with a towel beforehand. But his mind is boggling from your figure, orbs sweeping up and down your form. “What-?”

You slide down your sunglasses, smirking at how he’s hyperventilating; the effort of his trip here is clearly evident. There are about twenty shopping bags by your feet and you’re sitting on the plush armchair like it’s your throne. The ladies behind the boutique counter smile stiffly at Namjoon.

All around him is expensive clothing racks. The coats and dresses are equivalent to him selling all four of his limbs on the black market. There are ritzy handbags showcased behind glass casing, white lights shining down on the sparkling products. Every jewel, handwatch and tie, the ironed suits and shoes belong to brand names he’s only seen in magazines; Hermès and Louis Vuitton, Gucci and Chanel. Namjoon’s never quite stepped in a luxurious store like this.

“You made me wait a few minutes too long.” You ‘tut’ with your tongue, uncrossing your legs to stand tall with your brand new heels. “Just grab the bags and let’s go.”

As you throw open the doors, Namjoon struggles to haul all twenty bags on his arms but he manages to, panting and huffing as he catches up with you. “T-This is why you called me?”

“There are too many of them for me to carry on my own. You don’t mind, do you?” You pout your lips innocently, batting your long lashes back and forth. Namjoon prays for more patience.

You don’t wait for his reply, entering the next store with ludicrous prices, carding through the racks with your fingers. Anything that you like, you throw into the piles. Namjoon follows you from one place to the next, a servant to your shopaholic tendencies. The pair of you enter at least seven more stores, each with him following you like a shadow or puppy. And for the first time, rather than being scared, Namjoon is massively annoyed with you.

“That’ll be nine hundred and eighty dollars.” The lady behind the counter begins wrapping up your new blouses and skirts. You open your wallet, hand ghosting along the many cards.

Namjoon watches over your shoulder as you play eeny, meeny, miny, moe before you take a random one out. “Here you go.”

After you exit, the harpist can’t help but be curious. “Why do you have so many credit cards?”

“Oh, they’re not mine.”

“Then….?” It belatedly hits him, striking him like a freight train. It all makes sense. For someone as attractive as yourself, having all this money..…“Are you a sugar baby?”

Your face twists in distaste. “I don’t really like putting labels on things...it’s more like...sometimes I go on dates with wealthy people to get gifts from them. I give the lonely the company they desire. You’d be surprised how much someone could make it a week doing that sort of thing.”

There are fifteen bags each hanging off of Namjoon’s arms and he’s tired, exhausted. But for a mere moment, it all washes away with his slight growing curiosity of you. Namjoon thought that you were a spoiled brat and you are. Though, like anyone else, there were so many things he didn’t know….like an onion with many layers. He just hasn’t uncovered all of yours yet…

“Isn’t it time to get to class?” You glance at the clock in the center of the shopping plaza. “I think there’s only an hour left. You better start running if you don’t want to be late!”

Namjoon puts the bags down and without bidding you goodbye, begins to book it down the street. Your cackling laugh rings inside his ears as he calculates how long it would take to grab his belongings before sitting down in the lecture room for your biochem class. He also ponders again - what he did to deserve this. What he has gotten himself into?

Namjoon’s just sure that he’s going to have to be with you for a long time.