i probably should have done a better job

Forever and Always

Originally posted by cheonjaes

Another night ended with the sound of slammed doors. 

The sound making me nauseated. Once again I would be sleeping at a friends house.
No longer feeling welcomed by him. No longer feeling wanted.

Four months ago, I lost my job. I was heart broken. Not only did I love that job with all of my heart, but without it I could not stay in Korea.
I didn’t know what to do. I made just enough to live and sustain myself. If I was able to work there just three more months, I would have a received a raise. But the world was obviously not working in my favor. 

My boyfriend was the wonderful and amazingly talented rapper and producer: Zico. We had been dating for two years and our relationship was perfect. He was my other half and I was his.
We were having a movie night at his place the night I told him everything. He sat with his back resting against the arm of the sofa, legs splayed out along the couch with me in his lap, legs resting the same way, my upper body resting along his. He had both arms wrapped around my waist. I could feel him breathing on my neck as I told him the situation.
I explained to him that with the money I had saved, I could only afford to stay in Korea for two more months, so I would be moving back home to the states soon.
It was quiet for a while after I finished. Every tick that the clock made making me even more anxious for his response.
After a few minutes he finally spoke.
“Why don’t you move in here?” I could feel him looking at me without even turning around. His pupils burning holes into my skull. We had talked about moving in together before, but I always rejected the offer, not wanting to move in with someone I wasn’t married to. This just was not a step I was ready for.
“What about my dog?”  I felt him shrug. “I don’t care, bring him too” “But you don’t even like him” “You love him so I love him” He was acting as if this was a no brainer. I couldn’t afford to live on my own so I should live with him. Simple. But it was not that simple to me. Moving in with him scared me to death. Were we ready?
Zico could feel my insecurities raging within me. “Look, I know you have your worries, but this could work. We’ve been together for two years now. Most couples move in with each other way sooner than that”
“Yeah and they end up breaking up too”
“But not us, we’re different than them”
“How so, babe?”
“Because not only is our love strong and unbreakable but we already have our life planned. Look, we said married by 28 and kids by 30. Would it be so bad to just move in with each other now. We already know we will always be together, forever and always.”
 The room was filled with silence. I didn’t know how to reply. After waiting a few more moments, he spoke again.
“Babe, I know you’re scared. But you shouldn’t be. You know I want you here anyway. I love it when you stay over and I’m always wishing it was permanent. My apartment is a great for the two of us anyway and with your dog being here that makes it a little more homey don’t you think?”
His voice was filled with hope and it was breaking my heart. I did want this. I imagined what life would be like living with him all the time. But I always imagined we were married.

After a couple days of going back and forth on the topic, we decided I would move in. I said only for six months, but he said for a year. We agreed to re-visit the topic after six months though. This would give me time to find a new job, save money and move into a new place of my own.

The first two months of living with Zico was better than what I ever imagined. We were more in love than ever and I started to think that moving in with him was a great decision and I probably should have done it sooner. Zico would always say “our home” instead “my home” and it always gave me a bubbly feeling inside. It took me a while to get used to, and if I ever called it “his home” he would immediately correct me to “our home” adding a sweet peck to my cheek.

It wasn’t until month three rolled around that things started going down hill. Everything he did bothered me. He was annoying me and I was noticing habits that would make me cringe. He would complain that I nagged and then nag me about nagging. He was dirty and had a horrible diet. His farts smelled so bad and he always left the toilet seat up. He came home late all the time and when he got undressed he would leave a trail of his dirty clothes along the floor. We would argue over stupid shit. But every time we argued, they got worse and worse.
The first few arguments ended with “I’m sorry” and “I love you” and “I never want to fight like this again” followed by hot and sweaty passionate sex. 
As the arguing continued, they started to end with a mutual understanding that we forgave each other. Just moving on and forgetting it happened.
With each increasing fight, I was feeling more and more like a burden in his home. I felt like a roach that he couldn’t get rid of, or was too nice to kick out.
It wasn’t until our first blow out fight that I decided not to sleep there. The fight was so stupid I can’t even remember what it was about. It kept escalating and escalating, neither us wanting to back down. It wasn’t until he threw a picture across the room, it shattering against the wall, that we both settled down and came to out senses. I looked at him with shock and utter disbelief. I have never in the two years that we had dated seen him this angry. He looked back at me with sorrow in his eyes, but he didn’t say anything. He just raked his hands through his hair with a sigh and walked to the bedroom, quietly shutting the door.
Once my shock wore off, I grabbed the broom and the dust pan and decided to clean up the mess. When I made my way to the area, I noticed that the picture he threw was a picture of us. It was from the first day I moved in. Boxes were everywhere and we were sweaty. We had just gotten the last box in his apartment. Zico was so excited after he finally shut the door.
“Family photo!” He said. He quickly picked up my dog, threw one arm around me and counted to three. When he finally said three, he kissed my cheek causing me to laugh and snapped the photo. 

I felt tears well up seeing the memory shattered on the floor and decided that I shouldn’t stay there that night.
After I cleaned up the mess, I put on my shoes and left. Not even packing a bag. I’ll just come back tomorrow when he’s not home.
As soon as I got to the elevator, I called my best friend Stephanie.
“Hey y/n! what’s up?”
“Is it ok if I stay with you tonight?”
I heard her sigh, her and Zico weren’t the best of friends
“What did that bastard do now?” I returned the sigh, even though I was mad at him, I hated when she talked about him like this.
“We just had a fight, not a big deal. We just need some space”
“Well of course you can stay. You can always stay here y/n”

I didn’t know this would be the start of my spending my time there every night. Desperately trying to avoid Zico. Not wanting another fight.

It had been two weeks and Zico and I barely spoke, whenever we did, I would sense his attitude and hurry up and leave before it escalated.
It wasn’t until the third week later that I really saw him. I was at his place gathering more clothes. Stephanie decided that we should go out tonight.
“All you do is mope around, work, and search for apartments. Lets take a break from that today” I protested but of course she could not let it go. I had to return to Zico’s to get clothes to go out in and gather more make-up. I decided to just get ready there and meet Stephanie are the bar. I was in the bathroom connected to Zico’s bedroom. Leaning over the sink trying to make myself look presentable for a night at the bar.
“Oh, you decided to come home today” It wasn’t a question, just a snarky remark. A remark which scared the shit out of me because I didn’t even know he was home. Did he just get here or has he been here? I thought to myself.
“Yeah, I’m about to leave actually” I said while applying my lipstick.
“Where are you going?” His voice was laced with attitude, but I could tell he was trying to hold back.
“To a bar, performer, club place”
“With who?”
“Just you two?”
All these questions were starting to annoy me, but I kept calm. I’m not here to argue.
“Really? Y'all aren’t meeting anyone else?”

I raised my eyebrow, “Nope” I finally dared to steal a glance at him and almost choked. He was leaning against the dresser by the door, arms crossed, cat eyes staring straight through me. Never wavering. He was watching my every move. He looked so sexy right now too, if we weren’t fighting I’d probably pounce on him. He was dressed in all black with a snapback on. He must have just came from some event.
“Are you coming home after this?” He asked, voice still laced with attitude.
“Actually, I might stay with Stephanie again” I started fixing my hair. Desperately trying to hurry and leave. You could cut the tension in the air with a knife. I heard him let a deep sigh. One of those over exaggerated sighs.
“So when are you moving out” This also wasn’t a question but another snarky remark. Although I knew he’d ask soon, I was still shocked. I slowly turned to look at him, setting down the oil I was about to place on my curls. He was in the same position, still staring at me. Eyes dark and challenging me.
“Well when do you want me out by Zico?” Another exaggerated sigh left his lips. I watched him roll his eyes and drop his arms by his waist. He shifted his weight and looked at me again.
“I’m asking because you obviously don’t want to be here, so just let me know y/n” My eyes widened. I never said I didn’t want to be here, it just felt like he didn’t want me here.
“That’s not true Zico”
“Then why aren’t you ever home?”
“Because we argue all the time and-“
“So what! Couples argue y/n”
With every word his voice rose. No longer being able to contain his anger. He was right, couples did argue, but do they argue like this. All the time?
“Cancel your plans with Stephanie” it was more of a demand than anything.
“What? No, we already made these plans” I saw his face soften for a second, but only a second.
He folded his arms over his chest again.
“You said you want to be here, then stay. Cancel your plans and show me you want to be here”
“So we can what, argue? Because couples argue
I clearly hurt him. I could see it in his demeanor, but he’d never say it. Always trying to play it off. He knew I was mocking him. Why am I such a horrible girlfriend?
“So I’m just supposed to spend another night here alone? Sitting on the couch every night looking stupid, waiting up for you to never show up. Me and that damn dog just staring at each other, telling him ‘yeah I miss her too buddy but she needs space’. I’m talking to a damn dog y/n. A fucking dog, because you don’t ever want to come home and why! Because we fucking argue and that gives you every right to just quit on us. To walk out and not even try to make it work! You’re so fucking stubborn and selfish, you hate when things get hard don’t you and I do too. But do you see me walking out every fucking chance we disagree? Fuck no, because I love you and I’ll fight to make things work y/n!”
I could feel tears starting to form. My voice was getting caught in my throat. He wasn’t just angry this time, but incredibly hurt and it was all my fault.
“It’s not that I don’t want it to work, just this is your place and whenever we fight-“
“Bullshit! I made it clear before you ever set a bag in here that once you were here this was your place too! Never once did I say it wasn’t, even when I was mad at and you got on my nerves, this place is still yours too! Everything here is yours. I don’t care about who paid for what and all that shit, what’s mine is yours and you know that so don’t try to feed me that bullshit y/n it’s not going to work!”
He hadn’t moved from his spot by the dresser and I hadn’t moved from my spot either.
I couldn’t say anything without crying so I just stayed silent. Looking at the floor, my body filled with shame. How come I didn’t know he was hurting like this?
He sighed and started aggressively rubbing his temples. He was no longer looking at me, but staring at the floor.

“God y/n” he finally spoke “If you are cheating on me, just let me know now pleaseMy eyes almost shot out my head. CHEATING. I know we’ve been on the rough end of the relationship but I would never cheat!

“What the hell, Zico. I would never cheat on you!” Being accused of such a thing crushed me. I know we fight but I still love him.
I head sniffle, he was still looking at the floor. Was he crying?
“You’re never home, do you even love me anymore?” His voice had dropped to a whisper. Breathy and barely audible. At that moment my heart completely shattered. I hated myself for causing him to feel this way because of my own issues. I felt like I was burdening him and in return made him feel unloved. 

I made my way over to him, tears spilling over my cheeks. I grabbed both of his cheeks to get him to look up at me. His eyes were puffy and red and tears kept falling.

“I still love you Zico, I will always love you. I guess I just let my own insecurities take over. I didn’t want to hurt you, I just didn’t want to fight. With every fight I felt more and more un-welcomed here and it’s not because of you, but my own issues. I promise I’ll work on them. I swear I will. I want us to work Zico I love you so much” My confession was real and genuine and he felt it. He leaned down and kissed my lips sweetly. A feeling that I hadn’t felt in over a month.
I pulled away and quickly walked back to the counter to grab my phone.
“What are you doing?” He asked, voice laced with hurt, scared of my answer.
“Texting Stephanie and telling her that I can’t make it tonight” I saw him smile for the first time in a month. His dorky smile that always lit up the room. I smiled back, completely happy that I could see our relationship turning for the better.
“You want another movie night?” he asked, eyes lit up with happiness. I quickly nodded my head. Movie nights with him were the best. “I’ll go pick the movie, hurry and text Stephanie”
I hurried and sent the message and ran to meet Zico on the couch. We sat in our normal position and right before he pressed play, he turned my head towards him and kissed me deeply. “I love you, forever and always” he said while resting his forehead against mine.
“I love you too, forever and always”

Originally posted by oppazico1

Mob psycho 100 vs. YOI animation

I’ve seen a lot of salt regarding the Crunchyroll anime awards and people being angry because YOI won best animation over Mob Psycho 100 and I can see where they’re coming from. But to be completely fair, you can’t possibly compare the two shows in any way. Just looking at the genre it makes no sense to compare the two. Mob is action/ fantasy when YOI is sports. Mob is packed with action scenes when YOI has none (well the only action it has is Yurio kicking people). If you want to compare shows it should be done with the same genre. You could compare Haikyuu with Yoi since they’re both shows about sport but compering it with Mob is ridiculous. Bones is a more popular and obviously better studio than Mappa but even so I think Mappa did a pretty good job with Yoi. Yoi did lack in the animation department, some shots were hilarious but that’s probably because of their low budget, Bones has more than enough money to spend on animation. Mob’s animation is beautiful executed and in my opinion it should have won the best animation category. But please stop compering the two shows and the difference in their animation and more importantly stop making fun/mocking fans of the shows because it’s very disgraceful. People voted for YOI because they love it and most of them probably haven’t even seen Mob to begin with. I haven’t until all this controversy started and it made me curious and I absolutely love it. Also, just because you’re a fan of Yoi it doesn’t give you a free pass to be a dick to everyone else who isn’t. Just because you’re not a fan of YOI it doesn’t give you the right to call it gay shit. People need to learn to respect other people’s preferences and not attack them for it. All in all, YOI and Mob are very different shows and I personally love them both. I mean Yuuri and Mob both are extremely lovable MC’s so what’s not to love about it? Play nice, kids! :D

Paying You A Visit.

It was just turning 8 p.m. and for most people that would mean preparing for bed but for me that just mean the start of my work shift.

Being an intern didn’t afford me too many luxuries when it came to options of when and when not to work. It was a holiday? Oh well. Work came first. My friends wanted to hang out? Oh well. My internship came first. I accepted that though and it was easy to when I loved what I was doing. Working as an intern in the pediatric unit was enjoyable for me plus I had made friends with another one of the young interns to keep me company on these long late shifts.

Stella leaned against the wall as we continued our childish gossip and talk from the past few days of events since we hadn’t seen each other. “My brother kept me awake all night with his incessant singing. Did I tell you he’s trying out for a play? Ugh. I wish I could tape his mouth shut.”

I giggled, imagining the tall and built guy that was her brother fulfilling a role in a play that required him to play a character quite opposite his appearance. He was already different than what he appeared to be. The stoic and handsome Jeremy liked to belt out opera-esque tunes at the drop of a hat. To me it was always amusing. He was entertaining to be around.

“I’m sure he’ll get the part. Hey, we should go to the show when he gets it! Front row with glitter signs and all,” I suggested through laughs and Stella immediately nodded vehemently in agreement.

“He’d love it. He hasn’t gotten that much attention since his sixteenth birthday.”

The sound of the walkie that was hooked to my hip breaking let me know I was seconds away from being directed toward whatever my duties were for the day. “Y/N, could you please head to room 462B please? We have a patient waiting.”

I grabbed for the walkie and pressed the response before speaking. “On the way.” I stuffed it back into place quickly before giving a small smile to Stella. “May the odds be ever in our favor tonight.”

“I’m just hoping that no kid pukes on me tonight.” I could see her cringe remembering the young sick girl who had decided to display her lunch on Stella’s uniform the other day. Looking back on it it was funny but watching as it happened, I had the urge to vomit myself.

“We’ll survive!” I shouted as I began walking away from her and down the hall to where I was needed.

Being an intern meant I didn’t have a hand in everything. If there was a serious accident, a surgery or anything extreme I was kept away from most of it. I didn’t operate anything too heavy and I was always watched when I was administering things to patients. For the most part, I found myself being the comforting figure for these children who feared the doctors in their stale green uniforms. I wore that title proudly.

I pushed the door open and saw a small blond boy laying in the hospital bed, his face pale and his lips seeming to lack color as well. From initial inspection, he seemed to just be suffering from a cold or routine sickness but that could have been wrong. “Hello,” I spoke sweetly and in an upbeat tone. I headed over towards the table where the gloves were to slide a new pair onto my hands while discarding of the old ones that had been unused since my arrival.

I hadn’t even noticed the young brunette woman seated nervously in the corner until she shot up from her seat to grab my attention. “Hi. Are you the doctor?”

“Oh no. I’m just an intern.”

The woman settled back into her seat and I wasn’t sure if she was disappointed I wasn’t the help she wanted or if she was just a bundle of nerves right now. I walked closer to the silent boy who was propped up with a few pillows behind him.

“Hi. I’m Y/N. What’s your name?”

The boy apprehensively made eye contact with me, his mouth tightening before he opened it to reveal at a low volume with a scratchy tone, “Davi.”

“Well it’s nice to meet you, Davi. What’s wrong? How are you feeling?” I raised my hand to his forehead remembering all of the times I was younger and my mother did this exact thing to me when I wasn’t feeling well. It was nearly like a flashback, thinking of all of the times my mother had babied me when I wasn’t the least bit like myself even if it was just a petty tummy ache or me pretending to be more sick or hurt than I actually was.

I got a lot of sweets from my acts.

“My throat itches,” the boy complained and the woman in the corner spoke up again to add on to his statement. “I think he has the flu.”

I turned from her and back to Davi before shooting her a look again. “I’m sorry to ask this but are you his mother?” She looked relatively young but then again it was impossible to tell these days.

A quick shake of her head let me know my assumption was wrong. “No. I’m his aunt Rafaella. His father is on his way. He’s trying to get here as soon as possible. I was in charge of watching him and well it seems he’s come down with something now.”

“Well kids get sick all the time. The flu has been going around but I’m sure Davi will be back to normal in no time.” I couldn’t do much at the moment until the doctors came in and checked on everything but I did the basics like making sure he was comfortable, talking to him and checking his temperature.

The abrupt sound of a loud ringer startled us both. Rafaella stood from her seat, looking between us and her phone apologetically. “I’m sorry. It’s him. I’ll just grab this outside.” She motioned towards the door before scurrying off and I could hear her answer the call as soon as she slipped past the door.

I redirected my attention back to Davi. “So, Davi, what kind of toys do you like?”

His face lit up for the first time at the mention of toys. “Um, well, I like dinosaurs. Legos?”

“I love Legos. I used to steal my siblings’ when I wanted to play. My brother would always get mad and hide my dolls after.”

The brief story caused the little boy to giggle and an adorable smile to cross his face. “Do you still play with toys?”

“Not all the time but sometimes I like to sneak a game or some toys in for an hour with patients.”


“Yes. Patients are the people that come here to feel better. Little boys like you who need some cheering up,” I said as I playfully and lightly tapped the tip of his nose.

His eyes lit up as he moved forward with enthusiasm. “Can we play a game?”

“Sure. Just let the doctors check up on you first okay? Then I’ll grab something for us.” I gave a playful wink but my attention diverted when the door to the room opened again, Rafaella re-entering with another person behind her who I assumed to be Davi’s father. He was immediately recognizable as he shot towards the bed and pulled his son into a comforting hug, murmuring things in his ear I couldn’t quite understand and didn’t really try to. I felt like I was being invasive of a private moment.

I stepped further away from the bed which caught Neymar’s attention and he offered a polite smile. “Hi. Are you the doctor?”

Again, flattering I was presumed to be someone of that status. “Oh no. I’m just….I’m here to help but there should be someone in here soon to check up on things.”

Davi enthusiastically made way into the conversation between his father and I. “Her name is Y/N. She likes toys!”

Neymar smiled down at his son before looking at me. “Interesting. A child at heart?”

I shrugged and grinned. “You could say that.”

My supervisor next entered the room, giving me a thankful nod before making her way to the side of the hospital bed while I removed myself to stand a bit further away and observe as it was my job to do. The little boy was already in a much better state than he was initially, that smile still present as he was probably thinking of all of the games he could beat me in as soon as this was all done.

I should have been at home, quite possibly preparing for a night out later with my friends celebrating my birthday which was only a few days away but instead I was at work, chugging down a cup of coffee to get some pep in my step as the morning began. Stella was nowhere to be found for my entertainment and no one else could quite get me to laugh, smile or speak at such an early hour as this one.

Any time before noon felt early to me.

The device on my hip sounded off as someone spoke into the receiver and let me know I had a visitor at the front desk. I was confused knowing I hadn’t spoken with anyone who planned on coming by to see me. Curiosity got the best of me as I quickly rushed my steps down the flights of stairs and towards the front lobby of the pediatrics unit.

The blond bouncing kid in the lobby was easily recognizable, his voice floating through the air with a delightful tone that was no longer plagued by sickness. Sitting, and also much calmer, was Neymar who was laughing at his son who jumped about and seemed to be in the midst of a very dramatic story. I inched closer slowly, not wanting to disturb, but it seemed my presence was immediately picked up as Davi turned to look in my direction.

He observed me for a split second as if trying to decipher and make sure it was actually me before he excitedly yelled my name and ran in my direction, his arms wrapping around my legs as soon as he got to them.

“Hi, kiddo. How are you? You seem all better.”

I hadn’t seen him since that night he arrived, having been diagnosed with the flu. I had spent much of that night in and out of his room checking on him and also playing a variety of games with him. He seemed to beat me in all of them and though I may have considered the first few losses to be of pity, the rest were of pure skill and talent on his end.

I playfully ruffled his hair as he stepped back and gazed up at me. “I am feeling better.”

“Well I’m glad. I told you you’d be back to normal in no time.”

Neymar now stood from his seat, making his way over to us. “We wanted to thank you by inviting you to lunch.”

I looked between the two smiling boys as Davi definitely got the award for widest and most convincing smile I had ever seen as he awaited my answer. “Thank me? I didn’t do anything,” I giggled nervously.

“Well you made my son feel better. I think that counts as something.”

“We won’t take no for an answer,” Davi added which made me giggle once more.

“Pretty please.” Neymar pretended to bat his eyelashes and clasped his hands together in front of his chest as if he was pleading. Davi decided to copy his antics and make the same pose and plea.

There was no way I could say no. “Okay. I’ll go to lunch with you both but I’m not off for another some hours.”

“It doesn’t have to be now. I can give you my number and you can tell me when you’re ready,” Neymar said.

“Okay. I would like that.”

I Need You

You screwed up, Sam got hurt, Dean’s pissed and you aren’t handling it very well. Dean/reader one shot, angst and smut 

You sit on your bed, the world on your shoulders, pressing you down, crushing you until you can barely breathe under its weight. How could you have been so careless? So stupid? You are so overwhelmed with guilt and self-loathing that you can’t even cry.

Sam is still unconscious. Dean won’t even look at you, let alone speak to you, other than ordering you to your room, that is. He wouldn’t let you help with Sam, wouldn’t let you unload the weapons from Baby’s trunk, wouldn’t let you go after first aid supplies. He had just pointed down the hall, his jaw working, and said, “Just go to your room.” His voice had been ominously quiet, almost vibrating with a barely-contained fury that even one sound of protest from you would have unleashed, so you had just obeyed.

Keep reading

Hillary Clinton thinks it’s an advantage for her to talk about the fact that Bernie has been critical of Obama at times, even comparing him to the Republicans who seem to live off of bashing Obama as if it were oxygen. 

But guess what? A lot of people, even Democrats and others on the Left, myself included, are disappointed by some of the things that Obama has done, or failed to do, and it is our civic duty to call for better. 

I’ve said before that those who have been completely satisfied with Obama should probably vote for Clinton because her Presidency would be very similar to his. But for people who want to take a shot at something better, vote for Bernie. 

Bernie’s response:

“Madame Secretary, that is a low blow. […] You know what, last I heard we lived in a democratic society. Last I heard, a United States Senator had the right to disagree with the President, including a President who’s done such an extraordinary job. So I have voiced criticisms, you’re right. Maybe you haven’t. I have.”

The whole discussion around Gillian’s boobs makes me laugh and cringe at the same time.

While “if you zoom in on her areola” is already disturbing to read, what is shocking is how judgemental we can become when it comes to plastic surgery, especially on women. I remember when George Clooney had a liposuction and he was almost applauded for looking so dashing at his age. His body, his money, his choice.

It is funny how many people are proud to say their fav is “problematic” but plastic surgery is a sin, something whimsical because that person is physically flawless because they happen to be famous. Tits change with time, weight changes and pregnancies. Gillian had three children and most likely had a boob job. Did she have it done to feel better in her body? Probably, yes. Should it change how one perceives her or make her less of a woman/actress/mother/person? Absolutely not.

positivity--only  asked:

what do you think of Trudeau's cabinet shuffle?

They seem like good moves overall.

Maryam Monsef was a mess on the electoral reform file. I hope she does better in the status of women ministry. Dion was also getting into hot water over the Saudi Arabia arms sales and a few other diplomatic matters.

I’m also not confident that Dion would have done well in dealing with Trump’s presidency, so switching to Chrystia Freeland is probably a good move. She’s also a fierce critic of Russia, which should be interesting in dealing with Trump’s USA and Putin’s Russia in the near future.

The Immigration Minister is a former refugee now, which should lend some perspective and crediblity to that job. The former Minister was also getting into some bad press over massively slowing down processing for privately sponsored refugees, so perhaps that may change with a new person in charge.

I don’t know too much about the new labour or Democratic Reform ministers, so I guess we’ll see how they do.