#gotta say I thought I was down bad for (insert any previous my one true loves)

[aesfocus]

well here is where I am in my life.

That's uhh like 3 days worth of writing. And it's just first pass no clean up, no nothing. How long this shit gonna be? we don't know... yet

[irrelevantwriter]

House Call

Pairing: Rio (Good Girls) x Female Reader/You

Rating: Explicit, NSFW

Warnings: Language, vaginal fingering, unprotected vaginal sex, mention of bodily fluids, reader being scared and horny, Rio’s BDE (y'all know what's up)

Word Count: 4.2K

Summary: Part 1. Rio shows up unannounced to talk business. Among other things. 

A/N: It’s here...it’s happening. It took me a whole 2.5 seconds to become obsessed with Rio once I started watching GG. Ya’ll know how I roll. Anyway, this is me just dipping my toe into the water. I didn't get too deep with a plot (spoiler alert: there isn't any). It’s essentially just reader-insert into the show’s current plot, but with some smut thrown in. For fun. I hope you guys like it. Feedback is that good shit. 💗

*Added a Part 2! Read it here.

*Give and Take series masterlist

*Masterlist in bio.

***********************

“You okay?”

The sound of your friend’s concerned voice filled the line, pulling you back to the moment and the conversation you’d been engaged in before you’d burnt yourself in the spray of hot water.

“Yeah, just washing dishes.” You explained, cradling your cell between your shoulder and cheek as you maneuvered dirty dishes under the spout of water.

“So the meeting with the principal? How’d it go?” Rachel asked, getting you back on track.

You sighed, beginning to scrub at a stubborn coffee stain left behind on one of your favorite mugs.

“Fine. The kids are still having a hard time with the divorce so it’s…” You paused, unsure of how to describe the child-like brooding your son and daughter had taken to participating in since you’d separated from their father.

“Tense? Difficult? Weird?” Rachel listed off helpfully.

“All of the above.” You deadpanned, still scrubbing.

“You take the rest of the day off?”

“Yeah, I’ve gotta figure out what I’m going to do with these kids. Paul said he’d come over later to talk it over.”

“How incredibly thoughtful of him.” Rachel replied, sarcasm and disdain dripping from her words.

“Well, it’s a start. And as much as I’d like to tell him to fuck off, I can’t. He’s still their dad.” You explained for the hundredth time, feeling the stress of your situation with your ex starting to creep into your body. Your shoulders felt stiff and your head began to throb with a dull ache. It was a familiar reaction these days. One you loathed.

You opened your mouth to steer the conversation elsewhere when the doorbell rang, chiming throughout the empty expanse of your home.

“Paul?” Rachel asked, obviously hearing the alert of someone’s company over the phone.

“I guess. Look, I’ll call you later.” You said with another sigh, this one more tired than annoyed. You gave up on the stained mug and moved onto drying it, shutting the water off as you did.

“Okay. Good luck.”

“Thanks.” You ended the call, aware that you were short with her, but unable to feel sorry for it. You had plenty of other things to worry about, none of which involved your shitty ex or his new girlfriend.

You placed your cell on the counter and turned to make your way to the entryway, mug still clutched in your hand. The ceramic cup dropped to the floor and shattered into pieces when you saw who was already in your kitchen. You gasped, clutching your chest and yelping at the familiar man in black, the dark ink splattered across his throat the first thing you noticed. Your heart leapt, your body going rigid at the unexpected visit. Pop-ups like this were never a good sign.

“I let myself in.” Rio supplied, voice low and thick with authority and charm. He wore a smirk, lips upturned at your surprised reaction. He always seemed amused by you. That fact only served to unsettle you further.

“What’re you doing here?” You managed to say between shaky breaths, fear making your own voice quiver.

“Just checking in, mama. Can’t I do that?” He challenged with his arms spread wide, daring you to say otherwise.

You didn’t.

You went to move around the large kitchen island but the shards of broken mug prevented you from getting far on bare feet. Rio took notice and strode towards you, all clean lines and hooded eyes. He had a swagger about him that radiated. It sent a clear message about the kind of man he was. Confident. Skilled. Smart. There was an ease in his movements, but a beast lay in wait inside, ready to strike when the need arose.

His piercing gaze took in your dress, uncaring of being discreet or polite. He appraised you from the tips of your painted toes to the top of your head. It was as unnerving as it was thrilling. He crowded your space. He always did. While the scent of him filled your nostrils. Something spicy, but pleasing. It sat in your nose, and you knew from previous experience that you’d smell it for hours after.

You swallowed, wanting to avoid his close proximity. You hastily bent down to gather what you could of the jagged pieces, moving around his sneaker-clad feet that stood before you. You tried to ignore his presence, tried to appear calm and composed. It was an uphill battle. The man always knew how to throw you off. He knew how to keep people on their toes. It was yet another facet of him that you both coveted and despised.

You hissed, feeling the edge of one of the shards dig into the tip of your finger. You stood and sucked the tip into your mouth, trying to clear the area of the blood that had started to surface. His eyes were on you, watching you with interest and a certain level of lust that you didn’t allow yourself to explore. You stiffened when he reached for your wrist and pulled your finger away from your lips. He inspected the cut, his flesh warm and soft against yours. It was a side of him that eclipsed the man you’d come to know over the last several months.

“It’s not bad. I’ll be fine.” You whispered, attempting to pull your hand free of his. It was futile.

“Band aid?”

“Uh...yeah. In that drawer. Next to the stove.” You pointed in the direction of the drawer, holding your breath as he retrieved the item. This time, you watched him. Watched as he unwrapped the bandage and tended to your finger with all the care of a parent with their child. He held the appendage steady as he got ready to wrap it, but he stopped himself. He locked eyes with you instead, making you shiver.

“I make you nervous.”

It was a statement. A very true statement. And yet you found yourself shaking your head; ironic because your voice felt too unsteady to use.

Your heart stopped when he placed a tender kiss to the cut. The air around you crackled with heat and tension. It was unlike any feeling you’d ever been subjected to before. It was danger mixed with primal fascination...attraction. And it called to you like a raft in a sea of treacherous waves.

He ignored your silent response and sealed the band aid over your finger, ensuring the ends were smooth against your skin. He didn’t let go of you.

“Don’t lie to me, okay? Trust is an important thing. And we’ve gotta have it if we wanna keep doing business together.”

His calm demeanor and gentle chastising made you a puddle of obedience. Your need to please wasn’t just born from fear. It was something you’d been unable to come to terms with until now. You saw it for what it truly was. You wanted to please him. In as many ways as he’d let you.

You nodded in response, agreeing to his statement.

“Let’s try it again then, yeah?” He started, eyes roaming your face. “I make you nervous, don’t I?”

“The constant threat of my life makes it difficult for me to be calm.” You said, choosing to still be untruthful. 

You forced yourself not to fidget as his stare scorched your skin. His black eyes roamed across the open expanse of your collarbone and to the modest neckline of your wrap dress. He licked his lips as he focused on the measured breaths of your chest, your breasts rising with each pass.

“That’s not the only reason.” He retorted with a shake of his head. He leaned in close, noses almost touching as he spoke. “Don’t move.”

You said nothing as he bent down, continuing your failed task of picking up the broken bits of ceramic. You observed him dutifully gathering each piece, piling them into one large hand. His face looked pensive, as if he was trying to solve an equation in his head. You leaned against the island for support and bit your lip, unwilling to give into the lecherous thoughts that haunted you at night and managed to infiltrate your dreams.

“Nice dress.”

His compliment made you pause, looking down to meet that familiar smirk. He’d set what was left of the mug onto the counter, the floor relatively clear of large fragments. His fingers now played with the hem of said dress, the flowy material dancing in the air and away from your body.

“Thanks.”

Your voice was small. The apprehension so clear that you could both taste it. He found it funny. You found it humiliating.

He slowly straightened, taking the fabric with him as he gathered it to just above your knees.

“Color looks good on you.”

Again, the juvenile warmth of his praise sent you reeling further into anxiety’s waiting arms. Inwardly, you were responding to every lick of his lips and quirk of his eyebrow. Your thighs shifted restlessly against each other, waiting for that satiation that you hadn’t felt in forever. Outwardly though, you remained as skittish as a wild horse. You were as much on the edge of pleasure as you were on retreating.

“Thanks.” You said with a pleasant smile, wanting to conceal the yearning that bubbled just under the surface. You smoothed out the hunter-green fabric that rested against your abdomen, hoping to urge his hands away from you and the dress.

No such luck.

Instead, he ran his fingers up your skirt and along the outside of your thighs and hips, almost meeting the edge of your lace panties. Your traitorous body showed its hand, your nipples hardening in eagerness. Rio’s gaze predictably caught the action. And his face showed his approval.

“How long you been divorced?”

You furrowed your brows in confusion at his sudden curiosity. But the switch in topic had you alert again and somewhat clear of the fog he was so insistent on throwing you into.

“Why? What does that have to do with anything?” You questioned, stepping back from his body.

His hands fell away from you finally, but they didn’t stay idle for long. They skimmed over your hips, pressing your backside into the edge of the kitchen island.

“Answer me, mama.” He demanded, head craning down to meet your eyes. The intensity of his stare made you shift on your feet. He had an amazing poker face. A skill that left you envious.

“Two years.” You dutifully supplied, leaning backwards every inch that he moved in.

“It’s been that long then.” He commented with a nod, a finger tracing along the neckline of your dress, hovering just above your cleavage.

“That long for what?” You asked, taking note of the subtle ways in which his face changed. There was no trace of the teasing, light-hearted flirting that you’d become accustomed to seeing from him. He was serious. Almost as serious as the times he’d threatened your life. His touch was more insistent, telling you what he wanted rather than hinting. His mouth lowered to your ear, his nose brushing against your neck in a far too erotic manner. Your fingers itched to anchor yourself to him. You denied the request.

“Since someone stretched you out.”

A gasp caught in your throat, though you didn’t know if it was more from his words or his touch. He’d managed to slip a hand under your dress, tracing the crotch of your panties with a dexterous finger as he spoke.

“Wh-what do you mean?” You stammered, knuckles tightening against the edge of the counter you were currently gripping.

“I mean…” Rio started, lips brushing against the shell of your ear with each syllable. His finger barely teased your slit, but his voice more than compensated for the lack of physicality. “You haven’t had someone here,” He emphasized the word with a firm press of his finger against the soaked material that hid your clit from view. “In two years. Maybe more.”

You whimpered, biting your lip as he continued to manipulate your body. Your head screamed at you to stop, to pull away. But the sensation of his body pressed so firmly to yours was far too comforting to deny.

“You don’t know that.” You attempted, though the effort was obviously pointless. It was true. Since your separation and subsequent divorce from Paul, you’d barely been on a date, much less had sex. Your body was fiending for it...for him. And he knew it.

He scoffed, finding amusement in your words. He pressed his finger along the same dampened area, seeing your eyes roll into the back of your head. He licked his lips when your hand shot out to grasp at his wrist.

“Yeah, I do.” He affirmed with a nod, finger still teasing over your lace-covered slit. “He stepped out on you, didn’t he?” He continued, his eyes taking stock of the way you responded to his touch.

You had trouble focusing on the conversation he insisted on having while his hand was up your dress and practically in your underwear. You didn’t feel the need to supply an answer anyway. He already had all the information he needed.

“He didn’t deserve you.”

You were jolted back to reality by his words, straightening your spine and pushing his hand from between your legs.

“And what? You do?” You threw back, agitation seeping into your tone. You felt like he was patronizing you. He was always one step ahead. Always aware of the skeletons in your closet before you were.

“Never said that.” He said with a shake of his head, not stepping out of your space. His hands were off your body now, but the stains they’d left on you would remain there. They wouldn’t easily be erased. And you weren’t entirely sure that you wanted them to be.

“Why are you here?” You asked, trying to sound more confident than you felt.

“Business.”

“A simple call or text works for that.”

“Wanted to come in person.” He said with a shrug of his shoulders. He wore an expression of smugness, as if he knew something you didn’t, which was often the case.

“What do you want then?”

“Why don’t you tell me?” He retorted swiftly, lips pulled into a thin line.

The seriousness was back, his eyes nearly swallowing you as all humor became sucked from the room. The nerves in your stomach came back full force, the fear aiding them in their efforts. He was challenging you, apparently done with your lying.

“I…”

You didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know how to even begin. He was too intimidating. Just too much.

“I-I can’t.” You finished lamely, shaking your head and looking down at your feet.

He tilted your chin up, his mouth only centimeters from yours as he dared you to move.

“Just say the word.” He rasped against your lips, his free hand cradling your cheek.

You let yourself stare back, taking in his dark lashes and the angles of his face. He confused you on many levels, angered you beyond belief. He made your life a living hell. And yet, you wanted him more than anything. More than the money and the thrill of crime. And somehow he was privy to it all. And he wanted to give it to you.

So you were going to let him.

“Kiss me.” You breathed out, your hands finally coming to rest on his chest.

He needed no further encouragement. His mouth settled over yours in a tangle of lips and tongues. He tasted like mint, his lips much softer than they looked. The scratch of his facial hair only added to the moment as you pressed further into him, asking him to take more.

He did.

His hands were rough, but not unpleasant as they trailed along your body. They had the marks of healed scars. Not to mention the blood of those who chose to cross him. They were everywhere and all at once. Your breasts, your neck, your waist, your ass. He kneaded where he knew you yearned for more and tenderly stroked the areas in between. You struggled to keep up as his hips pushed into yours, his own yearning making its presence known.

“We shouldn’t do this.” You managed to say between heavy breaths, Rio’s mouth attaching to your neck and sucking near your throbbing pulse.

“Why not?” He mumbled into your skin, hands unwilling to slow down.

“Things will get complicated.”

He pulled himself away from the crook of your neck, his thumb running over your kiss-swollen pout.

“Yeah, they will.” He said with a chuckle, that devilish smirk staring back at you.

It was all a blur after that.

Limbs intertwined together as you worked on the buckle of his pants while he pushed your dress up and over your hips this time. He harshly pulled the lace away, the elastic snapping against your thighs as it got caught before making its way to the floor. Your mouths didn’t separate, not even when he lifted you onto the counter. He pulled one side of your dress away, exposing the matching bra you wore underneath. Your pebbled nipples called to him and he responded, massaging the flesh with expert precision. You moaned and writhed like a woman possessed. Like a woman that hadn’t been laid in two years.

“Feels good?”

The roughened gravel of his voice made your walls spasm, the hint of self-assuredness causing a wave of arousal to seep from within you. You could only nod, wordlessly pleading with him to continue on. His touch ventured south to your spread thighs. You widened them, allowing him access to the place you needed him the most. He didn’t disappoint.

His fingers were long and probing as they penetrated your sex, slipping easily in. You gasped at the fullness, the stretch around him making your eyes squeeze shut. He let your body guide him as he rubbed at your clit, his fingers curling against your walls.

“I’m...god...I’m gonna cum.” You confessed, only somewhat embarrassed by the suddenness of your climax.

He worked hard and faster. Your nails dug into his back, your mouth landing on his shoulder as you struggled to not cry out. You bit down when the euphoria of orgasm washed over you, trapping his hand within you. He could feel every tremor he brought forth as you shook in his arms. It felt like it lasted for hours, your body unwilling to let the feeling be a fleeting moment in time.

“You still with me?” He asked, lips pressed to your temple.

You nodded, hissing when he removed his fingers from the confines of your body. You watched, feeling as if you were in a daze. He shifted his pants and boxers down, revealing his length to your ravenous eyes. The hand that had been so deeply embedded in you now wrapped around himself. He was long and hard, as rigid as his hands. You felt like a moth to a flame, hand reaching out to feel if he was real. He was.

You swiped your finger over the tip of him and were overcome with wanton pride at feeling the moisture that sat there. His jaw clenched in a way that you’d only ever seen him do in anger. He didn’t allow you to continue. In an instant he was wedged between your thighs, his body already pushing into your waiting sex. Even with the climax from his fingers, he was a tight fit. You both expelled breaths, his a mumbled curse and yours a throaty moan. You shut your eyes as a new burst of pleasure radiated from your core and traveled up your spine. There was only a brief moment of intimacy as he sat unmoving within you, letting your body adjust to him.

It was short-lived.

“Fuck...” He cursed as he began to fuck you into the counter, hands holding your hips in place.

You wrapped your arms around his neck as he lavished yours with kisses and bites, each thrust of his hips causing his teeth to graze your skin. The chill of the marble countertop beneath your bare ass cooled your overheated skin. You bit your lip so hard you could taste blood as he filled you over and over, each pass making your walls accept more of him. He was deep and hitting that gloriously elusive spot that sat within your womb. 

He cupped your breasts while you scraped your nails down his back, hearing him growl in response. The sound made you yearn to hear more. So, you did something you’d always wanted to do...you licked the ink on his throat. You decorated his skin with tantalizing kisses, your tongue aiding your actions. He shivered against your lips, the reaction making your walls clench around him. He was, at least for the moment, a slave to your ministrations. And it was a high unlike any drug you’d ever encountered.

It was animalistic fucking at its finest. He hit every nerve, soothed every ache. The union of your bodies was enough to send you sailing off the proverbial cliff, but his touch kept you tethered to solid ground, longing for more. He rocked his hips mercilessly into you, making your back arch at an almost painful angle.

“Right there, huh?” He teased, feeling you squeeze around him in raw desire. “Yeah, that’s the spot.”

You whimpered and tensed when he savagely rubbed your swollen clit, forcing your legs to tighten around him. He laughed, the sound ominous in your ringing ears. You could only hold on as he delivered the sweetest torture you’d ever felt. You spread your thighs wider, trying to get him closer than humanly possible. You opened your neck up to him, letting him have access to your bare flesh. You wanted him all over you and leaving a scorching trail of hunger in his wake.

It was manic. It was frenzied. It was passionate. And it all combined into a seductive elixir that made fireworks burst from within.

“Shit...I’m cumming.” You warned, feeling him double his efforts. Every muscle went taut with blinding pleasure as that coil finally snapped. You felt weightless, and yet the firm body still driving into your depths made you feel sublimely solid. And whole. More whole than you’d felt in the entirety of your marriage.

It was on the tail-end of your climax that Rio found his. His hips stuttered as he grunted and groaned, releasing himself into you and painting your walls. His fingers dug into the flesh of your inner thighs while his face burrowed into your chest and neck. It was as uninhibited as you’d seen him. And you were addicted to the sight. 

You both heaved with shallow breaths, the exertion of each of your climaxes literally taking the air from your lungs. The room smelled of sex and instant regret as you straightened in Rio’s arms. He separated from your body, eyeing you as he redressed. You shifted your dress back together to cover your bra, the mess between your thighs preventing you from closing them completely. 

Before you could say anything, Rio reached up and cradled your cheek. He played with your bottom lip, his thumb once again finding the appendage. His eyes took in every part of you, as if he hadn’t fucked you senseless seconds before. He licked his lips in that dangerous way that let you know his thoughts were on more than just money.

“Business is good?” He asked, warm palm still pressed to your cheek.

“Yeah, it is.”

“Cool, cool.” He nonchalantly replied, hand leaving your face as he stepped back from your debauched body. “I’ll see you soon, yeah?”

“Yeah.” You said with a nod, pushing your dress further down over your thighs, a lame effort to protect any modesty you might’ve still possessed. He smirked at the action.

“Might wanna clean up the mess.” He said with a cheeky upturn of his lips, hands gesturing to the remaining fragments of ceramic that still littered the floor but eyes locked solely to the spot between your legs. The place he knew he’d left a part of himself.

You bit your lip and nervously played with the hem of your dress, feeling his eyes bore into you. Despite still being fully dressed, you felt naked to him. Bare. Exposed. Vulnerable. You hated it.

He retreated, facing you as he walked backwards towards the front door. You watched him from over your shoulder, still unsure of what to make of the whole situation. 

“And lock your door from now on. All kinds of madmen running around these streets.” He quipped, eyes lighting up at his own joke.

He was gone as fast as he’d arrived, causing havoc and then leaving without a second thought. The door closed with a crisp click at his exit, the house now feeling bare without his foreboding presence.

You didn’t move from your spot. You remained on the counter, Rio still leaking from your walls and your dress still disheveled despite your best efforts. Your mind raced with thoughts, each one riddled with panic. His unexpected visit left you with more questions than answers, all of which were tinged with fear. What did this development mean for you? Did it actually mean anything? Or was he simply taking what was so obviously laid out in front of him?

Did it matter?

No. It didn’t.

Because although he may have indulged your craving, your appetite was far from being fulfilled.

[edda-grenade]

Sleep.

Adaar and Solas attempt fadewalking for the first time.

#feral verse, 2000 words. on AO3.

They were lying on a hilltop in the forest, on a fur to keep the cold of fall at bay. Well, Adaar was lying down—Solas had sat up to give her a curious look.

“You wish to leave?”

“No! I mean, yes, kinda—maybe—I don’t know.” She groaned and covered her face with her hands.

“You seem very happy, here,” he said, in that slow, careful way he had.

“I am! I am. I don’t want to leave my family, or this place, or you—”

“Me?” His voice cracked, just a little. Adaar glanced at him from between her fingers.

“Yes, obviously. I know you like to pretend you’re some lone wolf apart from all living creatures or whatever, but you’re my friend, alright? You’re not getting out of that so easily.”

“I don’t—pretend…” He sighed, his skin staining with blush, the faint freckles even fainter. His lips twitched like he was trying not to smile, until he gave up and his mouth crooked. Adaar loved it when that happened. She was pretty good at making it happen, too.

“You do not wish to leave, but?”

Now she sighed and clamped her hand over her eyes again. It was easier in the dark, unwatched.

“The world is so big and so full of things I don’t know,” she said softly, “and I want to learn everything.”

“Adaar…”

She hadn’t figured out if she loved that yet—the way he said her name sometimes, how he looked at her. Like she was the sun coming over the horizon, or a thunderstorm in the distance, or the wind dancing through the fields so hard it sang. At least that’s what she imagined the expression would look like on her face—an expression that was meant for immense and somewhat unfathomable things, not for a single person.

“There is a way I could show those things to you. Not all of them, of course—but more than what is accessible to you right now.”

Adaar sat up so quickly her head spun a little.

“I’m listening.”

He explained, and her head continued to spin, although for different reasons. Lucid dreaming, delving into the Fade like into a cave, how the deeper you went the older the memories imprinted upon the Fade would be…

It sounded ludicrous. Like magic, if she had never heard of it before. It sounded amazing.

“Can we just do that?” she asked. “Right now?”

Solas gave her another weird look; his eyes wide and searching for a brief moment.

“I—yes. Come with me.”

They left the little barren hilltop that poked above the forest behind and instead descended into the small cave Solas had chosen as his resting place. She’d tried often to convince him to join her family at the settlement, but he’d steadfastly refused every time. It didn’t bother her as much anymore—the cave looked more and more like an actual home these days, with a fire pit and cooking tools, shelves he’d carved out of the rock to hold utensils using a spell she hadn’t quite figured out yet herself, and a warm, dry place to sleep.

Solas had a ball of light bobbing in the air above his shoulder, and gazed down at the bedstead. It was cozy: a pallet of hay covered in cowhide, with a blanket and fur to keep warm in winter. It was also not nearly big enough for both of them. At least not if they intended not to share breathing space.

“There’s a bigger bed at home, you know,” Adaar said. “Actual walls and a door, too.”

“I would prefer to try it here. I have set the requisite wards quite often, and I’m familiar with the peculiarities of the Fade in this place.”

She shrugged, glancing around at the runes and sigils he had marked into the walls of the cave. “Yeah, makes sense. I’m just saying, you can get familiar with the farm, too. There’s space for you, it’s not a problem.”

“I’m aware, since you keep reminding me so diligently.”

“It keeps being true.”

She smiled a little at how that statement made his ears dip and his head turn away so she wouldn’t see his face. He cleared his throat.

“I have never… attempted to teach this to anyone else.”

“Because you didn’t want to, or because there was no one you could teach it to?” She hesitated, thinking of his arguments with Lavellan's Keeper. “Or because no one wanted to learn it?”

He let out a low breath. “All of the above,” he replied quietly, “at one point or another.”

Adaar slapped her hands together to resist the urge to hug him, then clapped her palms briefly onto his shoulders because not touching him at all was even more frustrating than being shrugged off. “First time for everything. How do we start?”

Solas showed her how to set the wards—they’d talked about spellwork like it before, but mostly in abstract terms. It took a good while, because she kept stumbling over new questions, like how specific a ward could be, how permanent, how big a space it could cover… They were halfway into designing one that might be used to keep beetles out of the grain, until they managed to get back to the task at hand.

She settled on the bedstead with crossed legs while Solas puttered about by the fire pit and brewed a concoction he insisted wasn’t tea to help them fall asleep. Then she got up again and started pacing, as much as was possible, because her legs were too jittery to sit still. She was just glad most of the cave was high enough that she didn’t have to stoop—she halted, gazing at the stone close above her.

“Solas, did you shape the ceiling, too?”

“What do you mean?”

“The rock here has a different texture.” She reached up to touch it and closed her eyes, searching for that low echo of past magic—and found it. “And it’s been worked with magic.”

“…A little. It is not your fault you are so tall.”

A smile bit into her cheeks. “Aw, that’s sweet.”

“It was a practical consideration,” he muttered, but he didn’t sound like he was actually put out. “You insert yourself into others’ spaces inevitably, it was only a matter of time until you would find your way into this one.”

“That almost sounds like a criticism.”

“An observation. Foremost.” He handed a steaming cup of the not-tea to her, then sipped from his own. She breathed in the smell—chamomile, juniper, and something spicy she didn’t recognize—then exhaled a bit of frost across it to cool it down before taking a sip.

Solas was watching her when she looked up from the cup.

“Something wrong?”

“No, it is simply… nice, to see how certain magic has become easier for you.”

“The frost? Yeah, I barely have to think about it anymore.” She blew a puff of snow into his face to demonstrate. Solas startled, grimacing, and wiped the rapidly-melting crystals from his cheeks.

“Sorry,” Adaar said, very earnestly. “Couldn’t resist.”

He shook his head and grumbled something in Elvish, but he was smiling again. That small, helpless, trying-not-to smile. They finished their cups, put them aside, and regarded the bedstead again.

“I shall take the fur, next to the pallet,” said Solas.

“I thought the point was to fall asleep more easily? And to sleep more deeply?”

“Yes.”

“Then why make it harder on yourself? We just gotta… scrunch up a little, it’s gonna be fine.”

There was a long silence.

“I am not used to sleeping among other people,” Solas said finally, his tone even. He wasn’t used to other people—flesh-and-blood people, that was—in general, Adaar suspected, but she kept it to herself. Right now was probably a bad time to bring that one up.

“Alright, no spooning then,” she said instead and sat down and stretched out along one side of the bedding. Then she remembered she had to get rid of her shoes, untied them, and hucked them against an empty wall. Lying down, the scent of lavender became obvious amid the hay and fur; sprigs had been stuck to the corners to keep bugs away. She’d told him about that trick months ago.

It really was cozy; warm and inviting. She curled onto her side, drawing her feet up, and patted the mattress next to her. Slowly, Solas joined her, folding himself up so he took up even less space than usual. It was still a tight fit, especially since he tried to avoid any real contact beyond the brush of fabric.

“I will attempt to find you once we are dreaming,” he said. “With our current physical proximity it should be an easier task.”

“There’s really nothing else to it? We just fall asleep?”

“It is… difficult to put into words. Question your dreams, if you can. The key is to become aware—awareness begets agency, which in turn begets control.”

Adaar tugged the fur and blanket up to cover them. “Alright. Sleep well?” There was a flash of a smile on Solas’s face before he closed his eyes.

“I shall see you soon.”

It was not soon. Adaar’s mind refused to quiet, anticipation thrumming in her limbs. She kept shifting, unable to relax, and she worried she’d spend the entire night sleepless, when she finally woke up again to a dark, quiet cave. 

She must have fallen asleep at some point, then? So was this the Fade? It didn’t feel different. She was sleepy and bleary-eyed just as she would be when waking up in the middle of the night, and a cursory examination of the cave with a bit of conjured light—a spell that behaved no differently than any previous time she’d used it—told her it looked exactly as it had when they had bedded down. Except…

Solas lay tucked against her front, his body warm, his breathing even. His temple rested against her collarbones and his folded legs leaned against her hips. He was curled up as he’d been before, but now it seemed less about making himself smaller, and more about fitting into the curve of her body.

Adaar stared into the darkness. That was… unexpected. Solas didn’t seek out physical contact. Sure, he usually melted into it for one or two seconds when it was offered before pulling away, but nothing like this.

Cautiously, she tried to brace herself on her elbow to get a better look, both at the cave and at him. She bit down on a sharp inhale when pins and needles erupted in the limb, breathing through it with care until the sensation passed. But even on a thorough second look, nothing changed. The cave was still the cave, nothing remotely immaterial about it, and Solas still slept soundly, curled up against her.

Part of her wanted to wake him up. Let him know it hadn’t worked, at least not yet, and try to figure out what might be changed, because merely the thought of consciously walking in the Fade was enough to make her heart beat faster.

But he looked so much younger in his sleep. His features softened and relaxed, like he might actually be at peace. Adaar wasn’t sure she had ever managed to catch him this unguarded. When they were together, it felt like he hardly stopped watching her.

She let out a small sigh and settled back down, gently wrapping one arm around his waist. Hopefully that wouldn’t upset him, if he woke up before her come morning. Right now at least, a soft, sleepy noise slipped from him, and he rolled even more thoroughly into her embrace.

[werezmastarbucks]

Whitmore Guy - the ghost

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Kai Parker x fem!Reader slowburn

whatever gifs I’m going to use on this one, I hope the creators are okay with that

word count: 2044

warnings: none

“Have you seen the new IT guy yet?”

“The uh- what?” Ric was trying to consume a chocolate bar without taking his eyes or hands off the paper he was grading. Y/N sighed patiently – or, rather, to gain some patience. Every time she felt like yelling at Saltzman she took a deep breath and travelled down the memory lane back to the times when he was just a history teacher at school. Back when they were all teens with awkwardly round faces and acne, trying really hard to impress each other, and survive ‘animal attacks’ that just started happening in the town. She recalled thinking the new teacher was actually a vampire. The sheer stupidity of her, while Stefan Salvatore was literally sitting next to her.

Back then, Ric was still youthful, energetic, even handsome, as some girls claimed. Y/N always perceived him as a parent figure, the uncle you may bump into in a bar you go to with your mates to pretend you’re old enough. To think that this grumpy, scruffy grandpa thirty-hundred years old used to be that energetic, bopping teacher they could all trust…

“I’m saying, have-you-met-Mal-yet?”

“Huh?” Ric looked up to her, and his hand inserted the bar into his mouth quickly, so that he could start chewing.

“Are you doing okay, mister Saltzman?”

Y/N called him that when she was trying to be ironic.

“We got a new IT guy? Where the hell is he? I’ve been struggling with this thing for ages”, Alaric pointed at his laptop, safely shut, after it had vomited a siren-like crackling earlier that morning. God only knows what kind of websites Ric has been visiting.

“He’s been in for like, couple of days”.

“Yeah, that’s when the password changed, I saw that”, Saltzman frowned, “that note on the first floor, on the notice board, said that there was a treasure map or crap like this. The whole place has been running on mobile since Monday. Is he toying with us? Who hired him?”

“It’s ‘revenant94’.

“What?”

“The password”.

Y/N settled her coffee mug on the desk and stretched her back, checking the room for people simultaneously. They were alone in the teacher’s space; Y/N liked sneaking in here for lunch breaks or when she just felt overwhelmed, to socialize, bizarrely.

“Anyway, I’ve met him the other day. And he’s weird”.

There it is. The magical spot to hit, to light that hunting spark in Alaric Saltzman’s light green eyes. He has always been an adventurer first and everything else second. Vampire hunting was just a necessary measure in the dire conditions given to him at the point of his life.

“Bad-weird?”

“Weird-weird”, she still wasn’t sure they were completely safe chatting about this in here. She got up and closed the door gently. Then Y/N started pacing lazily between the unevenly placed desks, standing checkers to chess, in a mysterious pattern.

“He looks too good, and he acts too friendly. He is…” she tried to find the word, it was on the tip of her tongue, and yet, it escaped.

“Weird”.

“Your notoriously inaccurate gut feeling once placed an innocent man among monsters”, Ric reminded her.

She recalled that. That one time she was completely sure her neighbor Bruce killed her father, for reasons she wouldn’t be able to awaken anymore. In reality, they still didn’t know who did it, but it wasn’t Bruce as the man was away from the town the night it happened.

“Don ‘t you allow that maybe you think he’s weird because he’s cute? Sometimes you say weird when you mean adorable. Or angry. Or upset. You just generally like labeling people freaks”.

“Okay, you’re not taking it seriously”.

Ric threw himself back in the chair and sighed noisily. He studied the ceiling for some time.

“In our life, Y/N, we have every right to be paranoid about good things. After everything that’s happened every nice thing comes across as a warning. That’s a normal reaction. But if you think he’s off, I’ll check on him, sure. I mean, I will meet him inevitably, right?”

They looked at each other. Y/N shrugged.

 ______________________________________________________________

Ric wasn’t able to get ahold of Mal for the whole of next week, in fact, and it was strange how for the first seven days of Mal’s working Y/N was the only person who’s been talking to him. The guy even complained once that he felt like a ghost, which sparkled the whole new package of fiery theories in her. Then, the next day, she saw Mal chat with the English major student. In a rather flirtatious way, mind you; but it at least proved he was real.

Alaric was left a little puzzled after Mal had fixed his barely breathing laptop; but mostly annoyed.

‘How fast is this guy talking? Does he ever breathe or something?’

To her question, whether he was able to place Mal among any species of supernatural creatures, Saltzman replied something along the lines of yeah, a sickeningly energetic young man with ego, which in his language usually meant abnormal, but not alarming. Y/N was more than sure that Ric gave up on life and just tried to get away from the IT guy as far as possible. What happened to the previous one anyway? Some people said he’d left. Others claimed he just disappeared after Friday’s party at the Craze, a new bar opened almost on the border with Mystic Falls. Nobody really cared. Mal managed to charm just about everybody – that is, when people finally started seeing him – except a few very exhausted individuals who refused to enjoy life.

The feeling Y/N was getting about Mal was inexplicable, good, too good, in fact. She was torn between enthusiastic and careful; one feels that way when a person calls you in the middle of the night and tells you that you have won a billion dollars. How come you don’t remember buying the lottery ticket?

The fact that he had a girlfriend wasn’t all that important – Y/N craved companionship, not romance; her friends were enough but they were all carrying weight of, well, ten years of fighting this damn town. Mal didn’t have all that. He blasted music in the basement where he had built himself a mancave using old boxes and discarded cupboards from the science floors. He always smiled. He was smart. He didn’t take any shit from anybody. And for some uneven reason, he treated Y/N like she was his partner in crime. Maybe that was the most suspicious thing. Y/N always wanted an older brother, and all male figures she chose to act in that character, pushed back.

 _____________________________________________________________

Damon weighed the glass in his hand lazily.

“Caroline’s been livid with you about the dance party?”

Y/N sighed, rubbing her knee. Ever since Caroline graduated, she’s been delegating her tasks to Y/N, who apparently had nothing better to do than organize two celebrations every month. No wonder she completely forgot about the selection of music for that one party that was supposed to happen at the end of the month, vaguely described as a nostalgia flick. Many times Y/N got ready to say, hey, Caroline. I have my own shit to do. If you want these events, come back to the college, get a job and do it yourself. I have tons of crying young adults every day whimpering over their dead dogs and burnt deadlines, and frankly, I deserve four holidays a year.

But she never said it, somehow.

“I am turning into a pusharound”, she realized, as she stood up, walking to the Damon’s sacred alcohol table. She took a glass which burst in a welcoming ringing, and poured herself a little of smelly golden liquid.

“I thought you liked organizing things. Whatever happened to ‘I’ll make them all dance to Stevie Nicks until their butts fall off?”

“It faded, Damon, it went down into my shit storm of a work. I am drained. I’ve been feeling completely lost for the last six months”.

The vampire’s sharp eyebrows made a gracious swing. Every time Damon did his trademark face of an Italian statue Y/N couldn’t help but remember the years when she’d been helplessly in love with him. She and her knee-length socks, and lots of jewellery, and bravery of a suicidal teenager, she thought that was enough to win his love. The disappointment was bitter.

“Why’s that?”

“Eh”, she brushed it off, relaxing deep in the sofa, outstretching her feet, “autumn was nasty, you know that kind of seasonal decline, and then, no snow in winter, and bang, it’s cold spring, and you gotta not eat again because nervous… and it felt like it’s been two days since Matt died, but when I look at the clock, it’s already mid May, and I can’t believe it. I feel like I haven’t processed his death properly, and it’s tugging on me. But I don’t really know what to do at this point. Everybody’s moved on”.

Damon drowned his face into his glass with that preoccupied look he wore when he couldn’t cope with what he started. Sometimes, he could only listen. That was the least he could do for the girl. Listen to her babbling away, and remember that it could have been much worse, she could have been much further away from him.

“Thank God I have my buddy now and I even almost figured out what to do with this shit faced party. No more parties after this one… I’ll tell her I won’t organize stuff people don’t appreciate, I mean…”

“What buddy?” Damon intervened passively.

Y/N jumped up, balancing the glass in her hand, and decided it would be best to down it until she poured it all on Damon’s couch, and he tore all her hair out. She gulped whiskey in two breaths, trying to clench her teeth so that she doesn’t puke it all back. As soon as the drink flows down and reaches whatever cells there are, it will soothe her, and clear her head. She sat on her legs, piercing Damon with a concerned look.

“There’s this new IT guy at Whitmore. He’s too cool to be true, and everybody loves him, except for Ric, and I’m sure you’ll absolutely hate him, too”.

“Why’s that?”

“He’s very chatty and charming, like a complete psychopath. He’s got dead eyes but he’s incredibly funny, and we listen to the same music. He’s always up for anything. He’s too…”

The look on Salvatore’s face said he understood exactly the type of person this guy was. Damon met many a folk like that; take Kol, that idiotic creature that was draining life of every party of people. Or early version of Jeremy, depressed yet too loud, craving attention. Or even Forbes herself; now she’s a friend, but back in the times, she was unbearable. Damon still had vague nightmares in which Caroline was trying to get him to go on a picnic in her usual commanding squeaky voice.

“So, steer his energy in doing this dance for you. And go easy on yourself, little one”.

When Damon called her that, Y/N felt like she was sixteen again, laying at the den of a tiger, if tigers dug caves or, like, very complicated dungeons, with skulls of their enemies scattered and the suggestive fires blazing along the walls. She shivered internally, asking herself, how she had managed to finally escape Damon’s glamor. She remembered being completely heartbroken, and then suddenly, she wasn’t. Good for her.

“Yeah, I’ll get him to help me. But I would be stoked if you could examine him. Ric couldn’t take him, the guy’s too colorful. I have a weird feeling about him”.

“What kind?”

She was tired of shrugging with confusion.

“Just do it. You’ll see. There’s something wrong about him”.

“Do you always hang out with people you deem suspicious?” Damon sounded painfully familiar. Ric and him, they became almost like a married couple over the years. Same old narrative, sung in slightly different tempos.

“Okay”, he gave up. “I’ll come to your nostalgia flick dance thing, and I’ll take a look at him. Will that make you happy?”

She looked at the alcohol sanctuary again.

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 190: Standing Tall

Previously on BnHA: Endeavor died! But it’s okay because then he got better! In the meantime, the High Definition Noumu managed to destroy a whole lot of the city, to the point where it reminded a lot of people of the Kamino attack three months prior. There was a lot of meta about why Endeavor couldn’t quit. Part of it is because the world still needs a Symbol, and he’s what they’ve got right now. But as Hawks and Fuyumi also observed, Endeavor is also just really bad at giving up. As Hawks observed, back during All Might’s heyday, Endeavor was the only one who even attempted to try and surpass him, despite knowing he had no chance. And that’s exactly the kind of bullheaded tenacity that allowed this crazy fire man to force himself back up, use his flames to propel himself, and chase after the Noumu while the world (and his son, who’s watching in the U.A. common room with his classmates and Aizawa) looked on. Then Hawks finally showed up to help out, and lent Endeavor some of his feathers to aid him in his speed and movement. And with that little boost, Endeavor launched one final flaming fist attack. Hopefully it’ll be enough.

Today on BnHA: Endeavor punches the High Flying Noumu with his flame fist and tries to burn it from the inside out. Somehow it still doesn’t work. Everyone watching is like “AHHH” and Shouto is like “DAD D:” and Hawks is like “dude you burned all my feathers, I can’t help you out anymore.” But Endeavor is all “it’s okay we good” and he grabs the Noumu and blasts way up into the sky where he can unleash his full power without having to worry about hurting anyone in the vicinity. And then he unleashes another Prominence Burn attack, but this time with Plus Ultra. Everyone is like “holy shit” and it’s fucking tense as hell, and then a moment later Endeavor comes plummeting down from the sky still on fire and goes splat on some random car. And then he stands up and does the All Might victory pose. Goddamn. So everyone is all “YESSSSS”, and Hawks goes to help him because he’s still barely fucking conscious, and for just a moment it looks like everything’s going to be all right. And then Dabi shows up. And is all “hey there Endeavor. it sure is nice to quote-unquote ‘meet’ you, lol.” Oh fucking snap.

(As always, all comments not marked with an ETA are my unspoiled reactions from my first readthrough of this chapter. I’ve read up through chapter 209 now, so any ETAs will reflect that.)

lol

for a solid moment there I read this as “the beginning of Horikoshi Kouhei” and I was like oh no my man you did not just pull a goddamn Steven King and insert yourself into your own fucking manga

so here’s the full dramatic first page

poor Hawks, caught in the crossfire

oh for fuck’s sake, now we’re moving on to page 2 and Endeavor’s fist is still rushing toward this fucking Noumu. just die already please

okay it looks like it is indeed dying

this is actually pretty anticlimactic after all of that. but okay

aaaaaand it’s still regenerating. even though Endeavor has his fucking hand inside of its skull and is burning it from the inside out

shit you guys

so they are being burned up, then. not good, not fucking good at all

Endeavor is shouting Hawks’s name!

and now he’s addressing the Noumu

idk what’s going on, he’s just describing the Noumu in his mind I guess. saying shit we already know. “modified human, manufactured one, holder of multiple quirks, obsessed with the pursuit of strength”

like, what is the point of this

oh I see, it’s simply to be as dramatic as possible so as to build up to this moment

Shouto. that’s very sweet. but. he can’t hear you, honey

he doesn’t actually address him as “dad” very often though does he? in fact, I don’t recall him ever directly addressing him by “name” at all. in the handful of face to face conversations that they’ve had with each other, he’s avoided using any sort of title and has been really brusque. and whenever he talks about him, he simply refers to him as “my father” (I forget which word it is he’s using in Japanese, but it’s something fairly casual and borderline disrespectful, I’m sure)

(ETA: so he normally uses the word “oyaji” (which does mean “father” but has more of an “old man” connotation though) when addressing Endeavor, and apparently that’s the word he uses in this scene too. so there was actually no change there. I’d be annoyed at the translation being a bit misleading, but I guess “old man! I’m watching” wouldn’t have quite the same emotional impact, so that’s fair.)

anyway, so yeah, that makes this outburst even more meaningful than it initially appears to be

Hawks says his feathers are all burnt up now so he won’t be able to help any more

but Endeavor says it’s enough

and he’s flying up higher, somehow. not sure if that’s the remainder of Hawks’s wings boosting him or if he’s just using his fire again somehow. that still makes no fucking sense but okay

he’s trying to put some distance between them and the people and buildings below so as to not cause any further damage

okay here we go. one more time

odd that he would hate that motto given how obsessed he is with strength. maybe it just never clicked with him. or maybe he resented it because no amount of “plus ultra” was ever enough for him to catch up with All Might

but at any rate, this is certain some plus ultra shit right here

looooooool Horikoshi you sneaky little shit

SO THIS SHIT IS REALLY ALL BUT CONFIRMED THEN, HUH

damn it just what exactly is the story behind this. I want to know already

so now Endeavor is plummeting from the sky presumably unconscious and still very much on fire

and the guy with the air gun hands says he’ll catch him. and he’s shooting his hands out toward him

and his buddy with the chopped up floating limbs is helping too. gross

eeesh

I winced

and now there are more reaction shots, with Fuyumi’s hands over her mouth, the people from the newscopter looking on in shock, and Shouto still standing there with that same frozen “oh shit” expression as before

can anyone give this poor kid a hug or even a hand on his shoulder or fucking something already. jesus. Aizawa you’re right fucking there. what happened to all of your dad instincts

Hawks is running over now

ahhhhh yes here we go!

I expected there would be a slower, more dramatic build up to this, but he just like bounced back to his feet and fucking did it right away lol

well whatever. he earned it. he earned this

all right, Enji. I’ll admit it, you are making some great strides here. none of this is gonna get me to actually forgive you, mind. but I have done quite a bit of essaying on redemption at this point, and I gotta say, you meet those criteria. you are learning and trying to be better and actually succeeding. it doesn’t undo any of the shitty things you did, but that’s up to those characters whether they’re okay with moving past it or not. in the meantime you seem to be doing what you can to make up for it now, and while it would have been preferable for you to have learned this lesson some 25 years earlier... better late than never

and now everyone is cheering!

goddammit, they really needed this. a victory like this. something to help restore their faith

All Might’s sitting and looks kind of blown away. like his hair is literally blown away. did someone turn the fan on in this room or

ohhhhh my god

oh my heart. whoa there. I wasn’t ready for this

is he praying?? is this a thank you? or is this just relief and he just kind of slumped for a second and just happened to clasp his hands like that for lack of knowing what else to do

either way it’s giving me a lot of feels

although even now they’re all just standing around him hovering like they want to comfort him, but they’re afraid or there’s some invisible force field there or something. JUST PAT HIM ON THE DAMN BACK ALREADY. jesus he was so tense. that was so intense can you please give him some support please and thank you guys

by the way they seriously need to turn up the heat in the dorms it looks like. holdover thought from the previous chapters that I forgot to remark on because I was binging the rest of this arc. but they’re all bundled up quite a lot for being indoors

awwwwww

what is this. I thought I was supposed to come out of this arc shipping Dabi/Hawks?? I have yet to understand that? but Endeavor/Hawks (or more like Hawks/Endeavor) is certainly coming off very strong

(ETA: to be clear I don’t ship this romantically, because Endeavor is old enough to be his dad. which is kind of the point, actually. Endeavor fucked up with all four of his actual kids, but now with Hawks he has miraculously been granted the chance to make a new start with someone who’s disconnected from all of that. basically this is the first bond Endeavor has ever formed that isn’t fucking toxic, and I think it’s important for him on his path to making amends in whatever ways he can. this is a chance for him to actually try and be a good father to someone, and better late than never. 

because Hawks is also someone who has relatively few close connections with people, because he keeps all his true feelings bottled up for self-preservation reasons, and keeps people at a distance by being casual and aloof with everyone (though in a friendly way). and yet for whatever reason, he’s gone and adopted Endeavor. maybe it’s just that he sees Endeavor as the best hope the world’s got right now, and so mentoring him to be less of an ass gets him closer to his goal of one day not having to do this job anymore. or maybe something about Endeavor’s asshole nature makes Hawks feel more at ease being open with him, because he doesn’t need to worry about making Endeavor worry, because Endeavor will just keep on not giving a shit no matter what, so that’s nice. except that Endeavor does perhaps give the tiniest of shits, shockingly. and I think that’s something that came as a surprise to them both and caught them both off guard.

anyways. so somehow this relationship between a hot pile of garbage and a character who was only introduced six chapters ago became one of my favorites in the series in a staggeringly short amount of time. sometimes life is strange like that.)

LMAO

I USED THE OTHER ARM. SO IT’S NOT THE SAME. SHUT UP

(ETA: also would you fucking look at this fucking fanboy knowing which arm it’s actually supposed to be and still bothering to be all “HMPH!” about it. how does it feel to be a 45-year-old chuuni, Endeavor)

damn he is harsh on himself

jesus christ Horikoshi. I keep thinking this, but it really is like a textbook study of how to redeem a character. he ticked off every single box. give them everything they wanted only for them to realize it wasn’t what they wanted at all. make them remorseful for their past actions. make them strive forward with new purpose. make them suffer but refuse to give in. give them an eyepatch. (ETA: dammit.) give them new relationships that aren’t tied to all of the horrible shit they did in their past, so we can see them interact with someone without that for once and get a glimpse of who they could have been and maybe just maybe still could be with a lot of hard work

like, I know when I’m being manipulated, but damned if it isn’t a masterful fucking job

anyways. Hawks says that he still did a good job and this will definitely be huge

and he says that first off “we have to do something about your injuries” and lol, duhhhhh though

SJSLDFKLSKHGK

YOU HOLD UP!!!! DON’T TELL ME WHAT TO DO! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE

I FEEL LIKE I SUMMONED HIM LMAO

okay Dabi. meet Hawks? unless you already know him? I don’t know, actually and I’m very curious as to what’s going on here

because it now occurs to me that my earlier suspicion of Hawks still could be right on the money and it’s possible that he was even working with Dabi. because idk but people ship this something fierce so there must be some connection, either past or future. and that attack was no fucking coincidence, and it certainly was no coincidence either that it ended up doing exactly what Hawks wanted it to do

but anyways. I’m getting ahead of myself now and I’m sure we’ll find out more about this shortly!

and look at Dabi greeting his old man like he’s never met him before, too. you think you’re so fucking smooth, huh

(ETA: so the “I guess” part here is actually very significant. I’ll just let Viz’s translator Caleb Cook explain:

basically, your two options are (1) Dabi is a fire-user whose true identity is still being deliberately withheld and whose physical appearance (hairstyle, eye color, approximate age) just happens to match up near-perfectly with the missing Todoroki sibling who was coincidentally mentioned in this same arc for the very first time, and who has apparently met Endeavor before, but in spite of this he somehow is not Todoroki Touya; or (2) Dabi is Todoroki Touya.

I don’t know about you guys, but I know where I stand with this one lol.)

shit. what an ending. what a fucking arc this is turning out to be

[atleastputinsomeeffortinuroc]

Rant: My Opinion on Venom the Character --aka-- The Tragedy of Eddie Brock

Let’s talk about Venom for a second.

With his new solo movie coming out starring the always impeccable Tom Hardy, I think it’s time we discuss everybody’s favorite muscle-bound Spidey villain/ruthless anti-hero, because…I well I say everybody loves him, when that’s not entirely true.

I’ve never really been a big fan of Venom. Specifically as an anti-hero.

I agree with the masses when I say Venom (when written in a certain way) is a great, GREAT villain and near prefect counterpart to Spider-Man to truly challenge him as he is very much the embodiment of his failed responsibilities. (Failure to help Eddie, failure to control the suit and just throwing it away rather than truly destroying it.) However, when placed in the morally gray protagonist role like you would put, say, the Punisher, Venom has always come off as just completely and utterly boring to me. I have never seen nor understood the appeal. He’s just a big, muscly, edgy Spider-Man with a creepy smile that goes on about “WE MUST FEED” or some horseshit that lacks any sort of drama and tension, instead relying on blood and gore to satisfy the crowd.

Now, the reason why I believe this is mainly because I think the most interesting aspects of Venom are lost the instant you put him in that anti-hero role. More specifically, you lose Eddie Brock’s tragedy.

What does that mean? Well, it’s…complicated. In order to find out why—you’ve gotta break down Eddie to his fundamentals as a character and find out what makes him work, before you go in and look at what doesn’t.

Spoilers for the character ahead, and also I should mention that this is all MY opinion. If you love Eddie Brock and wanna disagree with me, you’re free to do so. Just know that I’m not saying EVERYONE IS WRONG AND I AM RIGHT. This is my own personal deal with the character that I felt has bugged me and has finally come to a head that I gotta get off my chest. Good? Good.

Alright, let’s start off with the two building blocks of Venom: Eddie Brock and the Symbiote.

The Symbiote is some space-dimensional-parasite thing that is this thing that feeds off of the emotions of its partner, and then gets a small bit of their emotions that becomes a part of them. Each symbiote, according to new lore, has its own personality and ideas—but the symbiote that fell on our character has had…let’s just say a very VERY difficult couple of previous hosts before Peter Parker ever entered the picture. It lost its mind and became this thing that fed off of one emotion more than any—pure, seething rage. That last part, to me anyway, is the most crucial part of what defines Venom and separates him from the other incarnations like Carnage or something. This suit is fueled by the darkest part of the human id, the place where your darkest fantasies and thoughts that you refuse to give the light of day manifest. As long as dark thoughts exist in your mind, it will gravitate towards them and expand them ten-fold. It’s more than just some black goo that gives you powers—this is a living, breathing thing that cannot be negotiated with, and cannot be controlled. It can only be submitted to.

Eddie Brock is another thing entirely. Many different people have many different takes on the dude, but based off of his different origin stories, and how he’s set up, there is one fundamental item that has always defined him before the suit: tragedy. Eddie Brock has always got the short end of the stick in basically every department. He’s either lost his job, or he’s lost his mentor, or he’s lost his girlfriend—hell, he’s even once lost his future when he discovers that he has a tumor. Whether it’s because of these events, or how he was raised before, all of these things happening to him at once garnered two things within Eddie: contempt. Contempt towards those who got to have the life he’s always wanted but could never have because of *insert reason here.* It also doesn’t help that every decision he’s made to fix his life has always blown up in his face as well by trying to take shortcuts that he’s seen others get away with in the past easily, adding to his pain and suffering. He is, essentially, the one person in all the Marvel universe who can never catch a break. It’s that aspect that honestly makes Eddie Brock more interesting than the symbiote in some capacities. He’s more fleshed out, more humanized and shows just how bad things can go for people in the wake of mistakes that superheroes can make.

Now, for me, it’s when you combine these two where things can get…iffy. Mainly because it’s how you interpret or misinterpret either the symbiote, Eddie, or both that can make or break the character. For me personally, there’s one aspect of Venom that works the best, mainly because it makes the most sense with their characters and motivations. It ain’t the suit, it ain’t the symbiote, but instead Eddie himself. If you stop to think about it, there’s a kind of tragedy surrounding him.

Eddie sought solace in life and was refused time and time again by those around him. And then, at his lowest point, there is only one thing that gives it to him: the symbiote. The symbiote gives him the power that he’s always dreamed of, and lets him finally unleash the rage and contempt that has been boiling in his system for years. And it is ONLY THEN when Spider-Man finally tries to lay down an olive branch. He tries to get Eddie to fight it, to beat it, but by then Eddie is too far gone. Hell, I’d argue that the instant Venom starts to refer to himself in plural, that’s when Eddie truly died. They are better now. They have found peace within themselves. And they don’t need your sympathy. The idea of being told that you can be “saved” becomes a joke to those who were forced to save themselves.

Therein lies the tragedy: It isn’t that Venom isn’t given a chance at redemption, but rather that he refuses it.

When writers play into that effect, and show how depraved and demonic Venom is, and then juxtapose it with the shriveled up husk of a man that is Eddie Brock who only finds peace in becoming that terrifying thing—that’s when the character is firing at all cylinders I think. He becomes this horror show who you can’t help but feel the same amount of pity as you do fear of him. It’s almost a kind of Walter White situation in terms of losing oneself to your alter ego. This is why and how I find Venom fascinating.

But, on the contrary, when you try to put Venom in the different role of anti-hero rather than straight up villain, I draw the line in the sand.

Y’see, a fundamental part of what makes Venom so much of a cool villain is because he can’t escape his tragedy. He is literally bound to it. To make him anything other than an antagonist would go against that tragedy and therefore would go against his character, or completely and fundamentally alter the fabric of the character itself.

For example, say you go the direction of having Eddie try to fight the monster and control his powers. Real Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde style. The issue you’ve got there is that, well, it’s already been done. Peter tried that a looooong time ago. Plus, it wouldn’t work for the character as he’s already accepted the symbiote as part of himself. “We” and all that.

Another example, say you have Eddie attempt to find a kind of redemption arc and finally own up to his responsibilities. While yes, you can have this done where Eddie finally controls his anger and rage and can become a hero…but it has to come at a cost. Looking at this narratively, the one way to finally put it all behind him would be to defeat the thing that is keeping him from becoming human again, and there’s only one item in Brock’s past that does so—the Symbiote. For him to do a proper redemption arc that makes sense for the nature of the symbiote and how Eddie would move forward (and, admittedly, would be a good final note for the character,) he would have to destroy the suit or refuse to put it on again. Essentially, Eddie can be redeemed…but not Venom. If this were to be used, this would have to be Eddie’s swan song before leaving Venom proper.

The final option is, of course, why don’t you do a Punisher-type thing with Venom? He brutally takes out the bad guys that the other dudes won’t have the stomach to. While Venom could express his rage and anger against the right (or in this case ‘wrong’) people, and could provide an interesting issue for supporting heroes to tackle since he’s crossing the line for the right reasons, it’s kind of a one-trick pony. Long term it would fall flat on its face. It would get stale because you’d just see him constantly mowing people down with no consequence and no character development save for the occasional time when Eddie is justifying his actions. It would have to start and then, after a killing spree or two, he would get taken down by the heroes who force him back into a cage. This idea DOES fall in line with Eddie Brock’s tragedy, and admittedly could be done…but without that juxtaposition of Venom brutally murdering gangsters and supervillains with your Iron Men and Spider-Folks trying to maintain justice and order and are forced to take Venom down, it’ll all be lost.

You see where I’m going with this? Every time you try and set up Venom as an anti-hero, it just doesn’t work out that well. You either take away a fundamental part of what makes his character interesting, or you end up losing the character forever. He’s not like Punisher. He’s not like Deadpool. He’s not like, well, any other kind of anti-hero. He’s too much of a beast to be contained. It’s like trying to make the Joker out to be an anti-hero. You can’t. He’s done too many horrible things and would have no real reason to do any modicum of good in his entire life.

(Random hot take: I also don’t particularly care for Agent Venom. He just feels…lame. He has the Venom suit without the insanity of the symbiote or the contempt of Eddie, instead vying for a toned-down Flash Thompson who doesn’t have that strong a personality when put next to not only Venom, but Spidey and even Carnage. Also…really with the guns? You have a SYMBIOTE SUIT that can turn into ANYTHING and you choose GUNS?! That’s REEEEEAAALLY lame.)

Now. With ALL OF THIS BEING SAID. Let’s wrap right back around to the Venom movie.

In my eyes, there is only one real way you could feasibly do a Venom movie. It’s Eddie’s fall from grace and descent into madness. It’s a take on the world of bright super-heroes where even the best of them can’t necessarily save everyone, and create this beast out of your darkest nightmares. Perhaps it can even make a commentary on the collateral damage that super-heroes would have on society (not necessarily the death kind as seen in Civil War, but more of the problems they would create for the little people like Vulture from Homecoming—only expounded by constant tragedy rather than lack of a job.) Due to that, it would be less of a bloody slasher movie as much as a dark psychological thriller. Yes it would mean you wouldn’t necessarily see a LOT of Venom throughout the movie, but it would be something that emphasizes his best features while also being something you haven’t seen before from a super-hero movie.

It’s for this reason that I don’t mind that Venom isn’t in he Venom trailer. Hell, I’m happy he isn’t. Venom isn’t the best part of Venom, it’s Eddie Brock. The symbiote plays a part, yeah. But as a character, Eddie defines it. His growing contempt, his initial fear of giving into his “demons,” his tragic fall from grace, and his eventual acceptance of Venom as the only way to become whole which would THEN lead to the much-anticipated bloodbath. That’s why I’m glad it looks like he’s going to be more of the focus than Venom.

That being said, is the film going to go that direction I want it to? I don’t know. If I were a betting man, I’d say that it’s probably not going to be because of how little he connects to any kind of Marvel Universe due to rights, and how it looks like he’s going to be fighting different kinds of symbiotes with some ‘spooky organization’ that’s probably going to recruit him into being a citizen soldier or something. From what I saw in the trailer, that’s what it looks like. But, that being said, the fact that they focused so heavily on Eddie HOPEFULLY means it’ll be more about his aforementioned descent into madness rather than meaningless blood and gore. I don’t care if they completely change his origins—if they can make something interesting and meaningful then by God: DO IT. Look at what Spectacular Spider-Man did. The show altered Eddie COMPLETELY and made what I consider to be the BEST take on Venom’s character. It’s just the right amount of insanity mixed with the perfect amount of tragedy. 

And at the end of the day, that’s what Venom’s all about: Insanity and Tragedy.

(Again, If you disagree with any or all of what I’ve said, feel free. But know I’m not telling you to feel this way, so don’t go bananas because I spoke my piece on a blog that nobody reads. This is just my personal opinion on the character. Nothing more.)

[hammyhamimagines]

Don’t brag

 Note: Okay. I did it. I wrote actually decent smut??? What. Idk. It took a while. About half of it is smut, so be prepared I guess. My reader inserts are also getting longer, so that’s a thing I gues???

Request: Reader overhears Daveed bragging to the other guys how he’s such a top and she just gives him the silent treatment until they get home then attacks him with kisses and ends up being on top and Daveed is just a moaning mess. If that’s not too much to ask?

Pairing: Daveed x reader

Wordcount: 3098

Warnings: Smut, swearing

You had gone out to party at Lin’s place with your boyfriend, Daveed. It was nothing crazy, just a cozy ham fam get together with drinks. You had grown pretty close with all of them after first befriending Daveed and later becoming his girlfriend. The original cast saw each other a lot and you were always welcome, as were everyone else related to any of them.

 You had a lot of fun with the cast and Lin’s wife and they had all become like family really quickly. At first, you were very hesitant. Not because they seemed like they would not be likeable, but because you were somewhat of a private person. But, that soon vanished once you actually met them. They all cared about you and they all wanted you the best.

While you were helping Vanessa and Jasmine with the drinks Rafa and Daveed were hanging on the couch.

The subject of Daveed and Rafa’s conversation had somehow fallen on Daveed’s sex life and luckily you were not with them. You were busy bringing drinks around to everyone. But if you had been, Daveed definitely would not be bragging like that.

”No, for real. I’m serious. I’m totally dominant. Y/N is basically butter in my hands.” Daveed bragged.

“Yeah, I am sure you are.” Rafa snorted, not really believing him. He always noticed how much power you had over Daveed. He was actually pretty sure it was the other way around.

“Shut up, Rafa. You don’t know what goes down in my bedroom. I’m just saying, I can make her come just by touching….” He trailed of, as Rafa signaled frantically for him to stop. It was too late, as you had just come up behind them and had practically heard everything your boyfriend just said.

“Hey Rafa. Want a beer?” You asked sweetly, ignoring Daveed. You were somewhat pissed about him sharing your sex life, but you also wanted to knock him off his high horse and you were already making plans on how to do so. Starting by giving him the silent treatment until you got home was your first move, then you would have to figure out what to do once you got there.

“Y/N. Sure.” He gulped, obviously worried that you were pissed at him. But, you were not. This was not his fault after all. You handed him one of green bottle with a soft smile.

“Uhm. Can I have one too, babe?” Daveed asked, treading lightly. He obviously knew that you were not too happy with him right now.

You simply ignored him and walked off to hang with Jasmine and Anthony instead, because they were always great at giving you advice no matter what it was about. You were actually sort of embarrassed that Daveed was telling people about what happened in your bedroom. If he told Rafa that, who else has he talked to about it?

You sat down with them and with a soft groan you buried your head in your hands. You wanted to give your boyfriend some kind of payback. But how?

“What’s going on, Y/N?” Jasmine asked worriedly as you seemed to have lost your previous happy spark that you had had all night.

“D just told Rafa about our sexlife.” You admitted.

Anthony could not help the chuckle that left his lips and Jasmine had to nudge him away from the two of you so you could talk somewhat privately. “And that’s a problem?” She just wanted to confirm if that was really the problem.

“Well, no. Yes. I don’t know Jass… Not normally. I guess? It’s just he bragged so much and I just want to give him some payback....” Your trailed of, not knowing what else to say. You were not even sure what you wanted to do.

“Well, what did he say Y/N?” She asked with an arched eyebrow.

A giggle slipped through your lips at that. “He told Rafa that he was so dominant and such a top.” You told her while laughing. It was not exactly true. Not all the time anyway.

“What? Seriously?” She laughed too and shook her head shortly. “So, from what you’ve told me that definitely isn’t true.” She added with a grin. It seemed like she was trying to help you piece together a plan.

“Yeah. It’s sort of ridiculous. I mean…. It’s right most of the times. But, he literally said that he could make me come just by touching me.” You laughed again. It was actually sort of ironic.

“Well, I totally agree. You gotta give him some payback Y/N.” She grinned. It was one of her mischievous ‘I know what we are going to do’- grins.

“Spit it out, Jass.” You said with a grin. You definitely wanted to know what she had in mind. She was so much better at this than you were. At least, you thought so.

“Well… First off, do you have anything in mind?” She asked. It felt like you were planning some kind of crazy revenge, and in a way, you were.

“Well. I sorta wanted to give him the silent treatment, you know. Until we got back home. But other than that, I am kind of clueless.” You admitted. You wanted to show him that he definitely was not as much of a top as he would like to think.

“You gotta fuck him, Y/N. You just have to. Just give him that silent treatment of yours for the rest of the night. And make him want you so bad. I don’t know how, but I’m sure you do. Then, when you get back home take charge and show him that you won’t take his bullshit.” She explained with a grin.

“Yeah, I love it Jass.” You agreed and high fived your friend. He was definitely going to get some payback and it would definitely be a lot of fun.

 After what seemed like ages, the party was finally starting to come to an end. You had tried really hard to be cool about this, but you were actually sort of nervous. Though, you quickly got into it and you had managed to turn him on pretty quickly and he was basically begging you to go home a couple of times. Still, you had simply ignored him and kept talking to whoever was around. At first, it was Jass, then you talked to Lin, Chris. You managed to go through a lot of conversations while ignoring your boyfriend. It was a lot of fun to watch how impatient he grew.

You had stuck around, helping Lin and Vanessa with cleaning. It was not too bad, as everyone had taken out their bottles and stuff before they left. The only thing left was to clean the kitchen. You took it slowly, just to drag everything out.

“Y/N. Can we please leave now?” Daveed begged while you finished of the last vine glasses. You still had no intention of answering him. Vanessa had luckily been let in on your plan, so she quickly helped you out.

“Jesus, Daveed. You are so impatient. We’re done in a minute.” She said with a gentle chuckle and you looked at her with a thankful smirk. She had just saved your ass from breaking your own plan. You were honestly starting to get a bit annoyed with all the begging. It was his own fault, honestly.

After finishing off the rest of the kitchen as slowly as possible, you hugged Vanessa and Lin goodbye before the two of you walked home in silence. He obviously had no idea why you were ignoring him, but he still kept his mouth shut because his brain was working hard on figuring out what the hell he had done wrong.

Once you made it back to your apartment, you locked the two of you in and started taking off your shoes and jacket without a word.

“Y/N. Seriously, why the fuck are you angry man?” He had obviously given up on trying to figure it out and was getting a tiny bit annoyed.

You were unable to help the small smirk that crawled onto your lips. He was obviously frustrated. “Strip.” You simply answered as you crossed your arms over your chest.

“What?” He asked with a stifled chuckle, he really thought that he heard wrong.

“You heard me, D. Strip.” You stated firmly. You were not going to give in to the temptation of having him on top of you. This was your chance to show him that he was not as much a top as he would like to be.

He hesitantly started by taking of his shirt, sort of unsure as to what was going on at first. He shrugged his shirt of his shoulders and let it fall onto the floor behind him. When he stopped afterwards, an annoyed groan escaped your lips.

“Really? Are you dumb or something?” You deadpanned, though you were cracking up inside. He was so clueless. “Pants.” You commanded. “Or do you need help with that?” You arched an eyebrow teasingly.

“Y/N… Wh---“

“Pants.” You cut him off. You bit your bottom lip lightly as he started to remove his pants. He was definitely starting to get what all of this was all about and both his pants and boxers came off in a matter of seconds.

He started to step towards you, but you held your hand up, stopping him in his track. “Bedroom.” You simply said and he obliged, leading the way to your bedroom.

Once inside, you gently pushed him onto the bed, letting him land on his back. You started by removing all of your clothes slowly, except for your underwear while he looked up at you with wide eyes. You had no plan of giving in and creating some sort of boundary between the two of you was probably the easiest way to do so and that was probably why you decided to keep your underwear on.

You looked down at him for a second. He was already hard for you and it made you grin. “Who has control over who, huh?” You teased and simply owned an annoyed groan from him.

“Really is this what this is ab.-“ He cut himself off with a moan as your slightly cold hand wrapped around him.  

“Sorry, you were saying?” You asked, as your hand started to move around him at an almost painfully slow pace. The question simply earned you a grunt from your Daveed.

You quickly noticed that he was starting to grow impatient, and you were confirmed in this just seconds later by his words. “Stop teasing me, Y/N.” He growled.

“Only if you shut up.” You answered innocently. He definitely did not like having you in control, mostly because you spend more time teasing him than pleasing him.

He obliged and kept his mouth shut, even while you kept torturing him with the slow pace. You could practically see him grow even more and more impatient and when he was finally about to say something again, your hand disappeared from his erection, which caused a whimper escaped his lips. You cut him off again before he could say anything, taking him into your mouth.

“Jesus.. Fuck.” He moaned as he was about to grab a fistful of your hair.

You pulled back with a slight pop and glared up at him. “If you touch me, I will literally leave this bedroom.” You breathed. You were really turned on too, but you still wanted to show him that he was not in charge… Not all the time anyway and definitely not now.

He obliged and as you took him into your mouth again and swallowed around him, his fingers dug into the mattress on each side of him as a row of moans escaped his lips. You looked up at his gorgeous face and immediately made eye contact with his lust blown eyes. You were unable to help the moan that escaped your lips, though it was luckily somewhat oppressed by his erection. You started bobbing your head gently and used your hands as well to give him somewhat of a better experience than usual. You earned a mix of groans, moans and ‘fucks’ from him pretty much every other second.

When you felt him starting to twitch inside your mouth, you pulled away and sat back onto your knees. A breathy whimper escaped his lips at the sudden loss of contact.

“Relax, idiot. I’m not superwoman.” You blurted.

His eyes went straight to your breast as you slowly undid your bra in front of him and let it fall to the bed. You knew that he wanted to reach out and touch you, but you were not going to let him.

“Please, Y/N.” He begged, desperate to feel your soft skin under his fingertips. Though you simply shook your head in return.

You watched him watch you as you got off the bed to take of your panties slowly, letting him take in your naked form for just a second. You quickly returned to the bed though, this time taking a seat on thigs as you waited for him to beg for it.  

You were practically dripping onto his trained legs and you could actually feel his lust for you growing, if that was even possible.

“Fuck. Y/N. I need you. So bad.” He pleaded, as if you did not know already. You needed him too, but you wanted to take this as far as you could.

You took your time with leaning over him to get to the condoms in your bedside table, letting your breast hover just inches from his face. It earned you a growl and you barely managed to retrieve a condom from your bedside table before his hands were on your breast.

You shot back up, pushing his hands away from you. Even if you wanted him to touch you, you could not just let him. You also knew that you should probably get up and leave as you had promised to do if he touched you, but you just did not. “One chance Diggs.” You growled.

You rolled the condom onto him, taking your time with it. You were being a tease and you knew. It was intentional and you tried to suppress the smile that formed on your lips at the next thing he said . “I hate you.” He rasped as you took your time. In his mind, it definitely could not take that long to put on a fucking condom.

Once you finally rolled on the condom without giving him an answer, he was probably ready to feel you around him. However, you were not going to allow that yet. Instead, you leaned over him and started to place gentle bites down his neck. You were driving him insane, but it was definitely going to be worth it.

“Fucking Christ Y/N.” He blurted as you got to his sweet spot, on the side of his neck, just where his jaw stopped and underneath his ear. You smiled lightly against his skin.

“How about you stop telling people about how dominant you are if you are ever going to get anything again, D?” You whispered innocently into his ear and while you gave him just a second to think about it, you bit down on his earlobe softly, earning a somewhat loud moan from him.

“Okay.” Daveed growled. He was growing impatient again and so where you. You wanted him so bad, but you needed to stay focused, even if you sort of just wanted to lose yourself to him as so many times before.

You sat up again and without a warning, you sank onto him, letting a few moans escape your lips. He seemed to have gotten the note about touching you, because even now he did not dare to put his hands on your hips. You actually liked being in control a lot more than you thought. You could make him want you to an extend where he thought he was going to lose his mind.

“Daveed.” You cried as you felt him fill you up.  He groaned in return.

“I know baby.” He husked.

It took a bit of time for you to adjust to his size, but when you did you started to roll your hips slowly, teasing him again. It was almost painfully slow for you too, but you did not want to lose control. Not yet at least.

“I swear. If you don’t stop fucking teasing me, Y/N.” He growled impatiently. Not getting to touch you was one thing, but you teasing him like this was almost painful for both of you.

When he was about to complain even more, you finally gave in and picked up your pace. Your head fell back in utter bliss as you did your best to stifle the moans that were forming in your throat. You did not manage to do so, as it was just too great.

“Y/N…” He moaned softly, as his eyes fell shut. You knew that he was close and honestly, so where you. Obviously not as close as Daveed though, because he came mere seconds after in a mess of groans and moans.

Your thigh muscles were starting to grow sore and tired and when you felt Daveed’s hands on your hips, you did not push him away. You gave in and allowed him to help you reach your peak as well. His fingers gently found their way to your clit and started to massage it roughly. It only took a few seconds for you to finally come, your walls clenching around him. You saw white and felt yourself fall onto his chest as his name slipped through your lips.

After both of you finally came down from your high, a soft chuckle escaped his lips. “That was so fucking hot, Y/N.” He muttered. You smiled against his skin as you pressed a light kiss against his chest.

“I meant what I said, though. Stop telling people about how much of a top you are or I won’t give you anything.” You warned. It was not true, though. Both of you knew that you were unable to keep your hands off him.

He let you catch your breath for a while, before he pushed you into the mattress and hovered you with a devilish grin on his lips. “And I meant what I said about being dominant.” He growled.

You already knew that you were in for quite the night.