whole strip!


…I wonder if that was actually a good decision to make there, Kuroo

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     WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?!!!?!! TSURUGI??????? I just found this off one of the twitter feeds I follow and I’m losing my shit! THIS CHILD IS AMAZING. THERE IS NOTHING HE WON’T DO…. Aaaaaahhhh I wish I knew where this was from >n<;;; I want to read the whole strip aaaahhhhh….

     time to draw tsurugi in sailor fukus

I Want You So Bad [a Barry Allen Smut]

Request: So like mobster!barry has a private party for a business meeting and sees stripper!reader on stage. After the meeting he asks for the reader specifically anD YEAH I DONT KNOW


WARNING: Smut (handjobs)

The club has never been this full. That’s because Barry Allen has never been here, until tonight. He rented the whole strip club for a private meeting with his dear old friend, Oliver Queen. Yes, Oliver’s wife is here as well. Felicity’s been with his mob before, so it’s okay that she hears what they discuss.

Through the conversation, his eyes wander over to the stage, noticing a certain stripper. You’re dressed up in a sexy piece of lingerie, that looks to mock a police’s uniform, but much, much more revealing. The shiny black leather just barely covers your breasts, traveling up your shoulders, exposing your stomach. There’s a thin pair of underwear connecting your thigh-high black stockings, all topped off with the A-typical police hat.

His gray skinny jeans grow tighter and tighter on his groin as he watches you sashay up and down the sleek black stage. The dim lights hit the curves of your body so perfectly. Barry is making you his. Since he’s one of the well-known mob boss’, what he wants, he gets. And, fuck, he wants you so bad.

When Oliver seals the deal, his bodyguards escort him out; the head one, John Diggle, protectively huddles around Felicity. Licking his lips, Barry stands up from the leather semi-circle couch, stepping his black dress shoes toward Cisco. “Here, buddy, have a fucking blast.” he smirks, reaching into his tan jacket and pulling out a stack of bills. Cisco’s brown eyes widen at the mob boss. “When I get back, we bolt. Understood?”

Barry pats his friend’s face, rings thumping against skin, then walks toward the back while Cisco rubs his hand over the stack, flinging bills on the stage. The mob boss eyes you, grinning wickedly when he catches your attention. The two of you keep walking, never breaking your stares until you disappear behind the opaque curtain. He clenches his hands, sneaking behind the stage area.

“Hey, buddy, you know that pretty little thing in the police uniform?” he questions to the owner, who nods curtly. Barry puts on a Cheshire grin, removing a bill from his pocket, “Bring ‘er to me, yeah? I’ll be in that-” he points to a vacant spot nestled in the corner, “booth, waiting. Don’t disappoint.” he orders, sticking the bill in the owner’s shirt before strutting toward the empty booth.

On the way, his hand sports a bottle of beer, rings clincking on the brown translucent bottle as he plops himself on the leather semi-circle seat. His arms hang loosely behind him, resting on the top of the booth. He shoots Cisco a smirk from across the room, quickly refocusing his green eyes in front of him when you show up. “Mr. Allen, I presume?” you quip seductively, trailing your finger down the vally of your breasts.

Barry shifts down on the couch, bringing his beer to his lips, “The one and only.” he mumbles before taking a sip of his drink. “Show me whatcha got, baby.” he purrs, leaning forward to set his beer on the small circular table in the middle of the booth. He props his elbows on his jean-clad knees, intertwining his fingers together in front of his lips.

“Your wish is my command.” you smirk, unzipping the zipper in between your breasts, letting them fall out of the tight fabric. He sits up straighter when you slowly strut closer to him, climbing on his lap. “This okay, boss?” you ask in a teasing way, hand traveling from his navy button down, down south to the tiny zipper of his jeans.

An arm snakes around your waist, holding you in place, and multiple cold rings indenting your skin. “By all means, do continue, doll.” Barry encourages, hearing his pants come undone. Soon, his hard cock is out of his boxers, slapping against his button down. “You gonna help me, eh?” he smirks, feeling you grip him.

You fix your hair with your free hand, pumping him up and down. “I only do handjobs.” you inform, squeezing the base, making him moan, throwing his head back. “Maybe next time, big boy.” you grin, boobs hanging out in front of him as you stroke his length, teasing the tip with your thumb. A few more pumps causes his fingers to grip your hips tighter.

Barry stares you directly in the eyes, brown hair askew, “Oh, damn right there’ll be a next time, baby.”

Ginny starts this episode out by saying “So much for being one of the guys.”


She’s actually really one of the guys? And that’s so important to me?

sourwolfstories top 5 - friends with benefits/fuck buddies

1. A Whole Strip of Condoms by eeyore9990

Somehow Stiles has managed to survive the horrors of Beacon Hills until the ripe old age of twenty. He’s still a virgin, of course, because there hasn’t really been time between school, work, and running for his life to take care of that pesky little problem.

Derek Hale — also a Beacon Hills Survivor — has sadly attained lonely bachelor status. In between running for his life, researching the latest threats to the town with his good buddy Stiles, and lingering nightmares of the outcomes of his past relationships, he hasn’t exactly been on the lookout for anyone new since Braeden.

Stiles feels the crushing weight of his family’s debt; Derek has piles of money. Derek needs to get laid; Stiles is a willing and eager virgin. It’s a match made in… well. Beacon Hills. Eesh.

Their odd little friendship has survived death threats, possession, and all manner of things that go bump in the night. Surely it’ll survive a friends with benefits arrangement.


2. Perk Up by Scruffy_Wolf

“You really like like him, don’t you?”

Stiles wrinkles his nose, “God, what are you, twelve? I don’t like like him. We sleep together sometimes and I studied on his couch for a few hours once. That’s it.”

“You should tell him you have feelings for him,” Scott continues, blatantly ignoring what Stiles is saying. “It’ll probably solve a whole lot of problems. Then you can just sleep together and hang out while not sleeping together without it being awkward. Also, I won’t have to listen to months of your moping.”

(Or: Stiles is a grad student who spends far too much money on coffee at Derek’s shop. They also fuck occasionally.)

3. Wheatgrass and Froot Loops by WhoNatural

“You’re falling for him,” she says, and it’s not a question. Stiles looks up, blinks, and shakes his head.

“No,” he lies. “We work out, have really intense sex, and then eat cereal marketed for children. We have a system, okay? Why upset the arrangement?”

4. Snatches of Sound by bleep0bleeprosepetals42

Derek looks up to meet Stiles’ eyes, expecting to see a challenging smirk, some sort of derisive mocking expression, but Stiles just blinks at him, quirks his lips a little in a small smile, and Derek smiles back, just a little, and maybe this collaboration isn’t going to be so bad, after all.

In which Stiles and Derek are rival musicians who, somehow, through no fault of their own, are forced to work together.

5. It’s Cool for the Summer by TroubleIWant

Stiles is absolutely sure about who he’s spending the rest of his life with, even though she kind of maybe broke up with him before her summer abroad. He’s still going to win her back. This fuck-buddies thing with Derek is just to pass the time.


“So, this was great,” Stiles forces out, “But I’m not really looking for a repeat, even, and definitely not more. It isn’t you, honestly, but I want to be clear that this was not a date, there will be no dates for us in the future, none of that.”
Derek, thankfully, interrupts him with a wave of his hands. “Woah, no. Absolutely, me neither. I’m sure you’re a great guy and all, and this was fun, but,” Derek breaks off to laugh ruefully. “I just got out of an engagement, I’m definitely not looking for anything, either.”

Pompous Foolishness (Phillip Hamilton X Reader)

Prompt: Could you write one with Phillip? Maybe he hits on her, you know the whole “strip down to our socks” thing, but instead of being flustered or whatever she just gets offended like a “really I just met you wtf” and all of a sudden he panics and tries to win her over bc he actually really likes her?

Word Count: 1,866

You’d heard about the Hamiltons before. It was impossible not to have. Everyone had in New York. But you don’t think you’d ever met one. Maybe in passing. It was interesting, both their family and yours being high up that you’d never crossed paths. That was going to change tonight. You were attending a dinner the Hamiltons were throwing. It promised to be another boring evening full of talk of the state of the nation and things you were absolutely not interested in. Just once, you wished someone would discuss anything else. If someone came up to you and talked Shakespeare or Mozart you’d probably fall in love right there.

Speaking of love, you had no less than four friends waiting to hear a full report of what he was like. From what you’d heard the man was supernaturally good looking. Not that you bought it. No way anyone could live up to such a reputation.

“Y/N! Are you almost ready darling? We’ve got to get on our way.” Your mother called to you, and you made your way down the hallway to the stairs. You loathed fancy dresses like these. The petticoats were always too much and how was anyone supposed to sit in this? Men had it so much better, trousers looked stupidly comfortable.

“I’m ready to leave now.” Walking down the stairs you smiled. It’d be better if you had any siblings, at least you’d have someone to talk to and roll your eyes at when your father got into an argument over something new wrong with politics. You had heard Marquis de Lafayette was back in America, maybe he would be in attendance. You got along with his eldest daughter well enough, despite her being a few years older. There, that was a reason not to dread the night.

The ride to the Hamilton’s was peaceful, your parents talked and left you to your thoughts. New York was beautiful, even though it was a little crowded. Your new country was something to behold, nobody could argue that.

Arriving at the estate was when tensions began to rise. Your father had dealt with the Hamiltons before. They got along well. So it really didn’t add up that he was the one who was the most nervous about the first impression that would be made tonight. Still, you knew already to be on your best behavior.

The home was stunning. Eliza Hamilton,from what you heard was not the submissive seen but not heard housewife, but she kept a beautiful home. There were bookshelves lined with literature, some books still jarred slightly out of place despite a obvious recent dusting, as if someone had been reading them right before the night was to begin.

Lafayette and his family were in attendance, but only his youngest was with him and his wife. You didn’t mind Virginie, but she was significantly younger than you. Didn’t realize the pressure that came with these nights yet. She was just a child at a party. You envied that slightly.

As the night went on you drifted away from your parents some, socializing on your own accord. Alexander Hamilton carried an interesting conversation, though you swore your father had a heart attack when he saw you talking to your host so freely without him or your mother overseeing you. It annoyed you slightly, how he always assumed you might act out and ruin the night. In the loosest sense possible it had merit, when you were younger and before you understood what was expected of you, you had thrown your drink at a boy who insisted he would court you because nobody could say no to his family’s position and wealth. But that had been years ago.

You tried to ignore him as best you could, carrying on your conversation until somebody much closer to your age approached you two, begging your forgiveness for interpreting. “Dinner is ready, father.”
“Y/N,you’ll have to excuse me. Though your interest in literature has me believing you ought to meet my son. His nose is often in a book. Y/N L/N, Phillip Hamilton. I must ask you to excuse me now.” With that your host ducked out to check everything, leaving you in the company of his son.

“Your reputation precedes you.” You smiled, greeting the other. At least now you would have something to tell your friends about the night

“Your father has talked about you before,Y/N, he did not do you justice.” To your credit, you didn’t roll your eyes at that. He was suave, you’d give him that much. And it wasn’t as if he wasn’t attractive. Maybe your friends had a point, but the rumor mill still put him on too high of a pedestal.

“Don’t feel obligated to flatter me, Mr. Hamilton.” May as well have a little fun before dinner was announced.

“ Phillip, please.” He insisted. “And trust me, it’s no obligation. You are truly stunning.”

“Well thank you kindly, then.” You offered him a small smile, heat rising to your cheeks.

“It’s my pleasure. See, if it were more appropriate I’d invite you to one of the more secluded areas of the house, we could strip down to our socks.” He winked at you, and the blush rose, this time with anger rather than flattery.

“Excuse me? Has that actually ever worked before? I just met you. You forget yourself Sir.” You wish you had a drink to throw this time. You were sure your father wouldn’t mind one you told him of the vulgarity. Instead, you found relief in the fact that Phillips father stood in the doorway to the dining room to call his guests to the meal. Before Phillip could look back at you, you had stormed off back to your mother.

You weren’t sure why you were so mad about that. Maybe because you had your friend’s words running through your head,set too high of expectations, or maybe because you had taken his compliment for genuine. But now you were fuming as you took your place at the table, between your parents. And straight across from…Phillip Hamilton. The night was shaping up to be a testing one.

You stared at your plate most of the meal. You’d steal a few glances around here and there, why was he still staring?

You were ready to leave by right as your mother took her last bite, but your father insisted you stay for a little longer. And of course he seemed to be determined to make the night a living hell. Phillip cornered you by one of the bookshelves, and you could feel your father’s eyes on you.

“I thought I made myself perfectly clear.” You spoke through your teeth.

“I know. But. Just. Listen to me. I can explain?”

“ I’ll explain for you, save us the time. You’re completely vulgar and so full of yourself you think that handsome smile is enough to make any woman swoon. You just didn’t account on me not for such pompous foolishness. About right?”

“Y/N, it isn’t like that. I’ve learned from watching my father. I don’t have any interest in promiscuity. It can only lead to trouble.” Phillip seemed to carry a promise in each of his words. You told yourself it was just the boredom getting the best of you, but you wanted to hear him out.

“You have five minutes of my attention to give me any reason I should believe you.” You glanced at your father again. “But not here.” You needed some semblance of privacy.

“I know exactly the place. “ He offered you his hand, and after a moment of hesitation you took it. You were lead through the party, to the empty halls, with beautiful art decorating them. You nearly wanted to stop and admire them. But eventually you were lead to a gazebo in the back yard, with a candle burning inside providing the only light aside from that of the house.

Phillip waited for you to sit on a bench inside before taking a spot next to you. Maybe he could be a little bit of a gentleman. You could have sized him up too quickly. You nearly apologized for your behavior, but realized he hadn’t done so yet and you had every right to be mad until that point in time.

“Y/N..I..Look,I’m sorry. I really don’t know why I said that. I was thinking it,sure, but-”

“Not helping your case much.” It was entertaining though how flustered he seemed. It was like retribution.

He let out a breath of a laugh. “I figured. But I was serious. You are a work of art. I don’t think I could call myself human if I could say I wasn’t thinking some improper thoughts. But I shouldn’t have said something like that. I normally wouldn’t let anything like that escape my lips.”

You raised an eyebrow, wanting to still be mad. You weren’t sure if you were being played again, but something in his voice sounded genuine.

“You really don’t have any reason to, but I’d love to just start over. I’ll keep all moronic comments at bay. But I’d like to just…talk.”

If God was testing you you weren’t sure you were passing. “I should have slapped you, so you know. I wanted to.” Pausing again, you gave it a minute of thought.

“It’s nice to make your acquaintance, Sir. I’m Y/N L/N.” You outstretched your hand to him, trying not to laugh at his look of confusion.

He finally caught on, bowing his head and taking your hand, softly pressing his lips on your hand. “The pleasure is all mine. Phillip Hamilton, at your service.”

You smiled at him when he lifted his head, staying and talking with him until your fathers found you both arguing over Hamlet’s state of mind by the end of the play.


You spun around the room, dancing in your new husband’s arms. The wedding was perfect. Didn’t matter how your bridesmaids had nearly all toppled over walking down the aisle, or you swore his best man had a wine stain on his lapel already. You’d never been this happy. You loved this man so much. As the song ended you smiled as you were brought into his arms, pressing a kiss to his lips.

“So I’ve got an idea.” He whispered in your ear. “What about we sneak of for a while, and strip down to our socks, Mrs. Hamilton?”

“You forget yourself, Mr. Hamilton.” You beamed at Phillip. “I’m believe we have to at least wait until after the speeches are made.”

“What a shame.” He commented, spinning you outward once again.


hey havent posted art in a while!! here’s a sticker commission I did for a friend, kimber and stormer from jem & the holograms (the new comic specifically, which you should read if you can, its great)

due to size restraints I split this into two stickers (here & here) which you can put together to make the whole photo booth strip if u wish

Las Vegas gothic
  • The light never stops. Everywhere you go, it is bright and you cannot sleep. You buy blackout curtains, and it doesn’t help. The orange glow of street lamps is unceasing. You board up the windows. Still, the light finds its way in. 
  • “So where do you live?” You’ve been asked this so many times you start to wonder. You thought you lived in a house - but could you really have lived in an underground complex beneath the Strip this whole time? You look at the face of this tourist, blurred white in the bright sun, and you decide that it’s true. It’s better to not argue. 
  • You try to warn them. “Don’t go inside,” you tell them, because you know, because you can’t stop them from following the lights inside.
  • There are no clocks. Everywhere you look, it is always dusk and twilight, and there are no clocks. Your cellphone won’t work and you cannot find your way outside. You don’t know how long you’ve been lost, because there are no clocks no night no day
  • No matter how many times the A/C units scrub the air, they cannot quite get the smell of stale tobacco out. When you go home, it’s there, clinging to your clothes and your hair and your skin and it will not leave no matter how much you scrub.
  • That old woman has been playing video poker at Albertson’s for as long as you can remember. She looks about 90, with her oxygen tank beside her, and she’s there every time you go to the store, day or night. She’s been there since you were a child. The stool she’s perched on is slumped and caked in dust. One time you looked too closely, and saw the dust coating her lap, her glasses, and the thick layer over her oxygen tank. You stopped going to Albertson’s. Sav-on is no better, but they don’t know you there.
  • No one swims in Lake Mead. There aren’t any signs prohibiting it… but everyone knows about the dead beneath the thick, green surface - the skeletons and the flooded towns and crashed military planes and the turbines that will pull you in and use your blood and bones to power the lights.
[Gorillaz]: Magic Murdoc AU - “El Diablo”

So in case you didn’t know, @piixieguts and I basically spent 2 whole days fleshing out an entire AU, appropriately dubbed the “Magic Murdoc AU” where Murdoc is a male stripper and Noodle is the young uni student that he inevitably bewitches :P You can learn more about it by looking through the tag here. If you want to read the summary of the AU that I wrote and also see the mock cover of the AU that Lainey drew, go here

So because there’s been such great art of this AU so far, I thought I’d write out the scene where Noodle and Murdoc meet for the first time. Should be a fun, flirty read for you all, and I’d appreciate any comments you have. We’re really excited about this AU :)

Title: El Diablo

Words: 3648

Characters: Noodle, Murdoc, a.k.a. “El Diablo”

Summary: Noodle isn’t sure if this whole male strip club thing is her scene. But the thought is completely thrown out the window once a performer names “El Diablo” takes the stage and leaves her stunned. 

Keep reading


Gruvia Family Headcanons:

  • The whole family has stripping habits. Cobalt is more self conscious about his stripping habit so he’s more incline to find his clothes after he strip. Azure only strips during battle because she’s not as good as her mother in turning her clothes into water. 
  • When Azure was a baby, she temporarily joined Lamia Scale because she was playing with the guild mark stamp when no one was watching and stamped her face. 
  • Juvia coddles her children like crazy and always state that her children looks just like Gray. 
  • Juvia wanted a big family but she had a hard time concieving so after their first child Gray and Juvia gave up hope after years of trying. Their second child was unplanned. Because Juvia didn’t know she was pregnant, she used water body numerous times during her pregnancy. Giving Azure an innate water body ability.
Sterek Fic Recs

For those nights when you want sweet, cuddly Derek but you also want ALL THE SEX. No rhyme or reason to this list, besides grad school is killing me and I needed to chill and Sterek…it’s a thing right?!?? Right.

A Whole Strip of Condoms by eeyore9990 [20,221]

Somehow Stiles has managed to survive the horrors of Beacon Hills until the ripe old age of twenty. He’s still a virgin, of course, because there hasn’t really been time between school, work, and running for his life to take care of that pesky little problem.

Derek Hale — also a Beacon Hills Survivor — has sadly attained lonely bachelor status. In between running for his life, researching the latest threats to the town with his good buddy Stiles, and lingering nightmares of the outcomes of his past relationships, he hasn’t exactly been on the lookout for anyone new since Braeden.

Stiles feels the crushing weight of his family’s debt; Derek has piles of money. Derek needs to get laid; Stiles is a willing and eager virgin. It’s a match made in… well. Beacon Hills. Eesh.

Their odd little friendship has survived death threats, possession, and all manner of things that go bump in the night. Surely it’ll survive a friends with benefits arrangement.


Big Spoon by Emela [3,487]

If there is anything Stiles has learned from being forced to watch romantic comedies with Lydia since Freshmen year, it’s that when you begin to fall for someone, it usually starts with their smile. Or their eyes. Or even their ass. What all those hours do not prepare him for is falling head over- why-am-I-getting-a-boner-from-this- heels because of a blush.

Chocolate & Pomegranates by Dexterous_Sinistrous  [9,695]

Derek has been an Omega for what feels like centuries. He is constantly hounded by Alphas and Betas who can’t control their hormones. He’s thankful for Laura defending his honor, but there is one person he’s always dreamed of giving himself to.

Too bad Derek is certain Stiles doesn’t know he exists.

How to Melt an Alpha by GigaCat  [5,104]

Stiles’ love life takes an awesome change of direction all because Allison talks Scott into taking some parenting classes.

Letters by ericaismeg  [8,924]

“Stiles, this is getting ridiculous. Can you please do something about it?” Lydia demands. “Do anything. I don’t care. Go up and kiss him, ask him to prom this year, write him secret admirer love letters, whatever. Just do something.”

OR: The one where Lydia sets up an email account for Stiles to “confess his love” for Derek. And as fate would have it, they also end up becoming friends in person at the same time.

Nobody Does It Better by HalfFizzbin  [2,019]

“Blue Wolf, come in, Blue Wolf. You should really thank me for suggesting the pink tie, as it’s clearly bringing all the ladies to the yard.”

only fools rush in by decideophobia  [13,594]

Is it an imaginary date?

No. I met him in a coffee shop.


This morning. It was love on first sight.

Sending Out an S.O.S. by fauvistfly  [6,552]

Derek decides he might be ready to start dating again, so the pack creates a signal that Derek can use if he ever needs saving from an uncomfortable situation. The signal somehow comes to mean that Stiles will pretend to be Derek’s boyfriend. Eventually, Stiles saves Derek so many times that the lines begin to blur.

In which there are fake boyfriends, flirting, music festivals, a bit with a puppy, a cameo by Jack Falahee, and honest kissing.

The Sweetest of Words (Have the Bitterest Taste) by Omni  [9,902]

“Ah, yeah, Desiree, I told you I was meeting someone. Well, that someone is Derek. My boyfriend. We’re totally in love.” His heart was racing and Derek was holding him so tight it was difficult to turn enough to face the young woman. What he did see of her had his breath catching on fishhooks in his throat. She was normally a relatively pretty girl, with cute round cheeks and large dark eyes, but in that moment she looked…terrifying. Her cheeks seemed gaunt, her eyes glowing like they were little windows peeking into a deep pit of raging flame.

(Or: Five or so years after the show. Stiles is in college, and finds himself getting stalked by a succubus. Derek’s determined that the best way to thwart her is to prove that he and Stiles are madly in love. It’s not really as much of an act as either seems to think.)

(You Drive Me) Crazy by I_glitterz  [5,631]

When he catches Stiles looking at him, his lip quirks up the tiniest bit and Stiles’ insides melt as his heart starts to race. A blush spreads across his face and he looks back at Scott’s love struck face when he catches Allison walking into her classroom.

He’s pretty sure he’s just as gone on Derek as Scott is on Allison, but at least Scott has a fat chance in hell with Allison.

waluwadjet  asked:

idea for our ghoul selves: we overthrow mr. house and turn the strip into a new metropolis instead of a gaming strip. the whole time i was playing i was thinking of those towns in alaska/russia that are all contained in one large building and all of the besieged/starving/struggling settlements that could live in the strip. you could probably fit three settlements per building and have like??? a metroplex where each building is a small city and it'd be safe and could basically rebuild humanity

you had me at “overthrow Mr House”


are not in love with me,
You are in love with the concept of who I was.
someone to be pushed down to be pushed aside.
do not like who I am,
You like that I will change myself for you.
But no more,
I have already changed too much.
Do not get the privilege of saying I’m sorry.
For apologies don’t heal the bruises in my mind.
Are no longer a part of me.
And now I can finally say that with sincerity.
I’m no longer whole.
I have been stripped apart by you, but hey, the same words that tore me down are the teeny tiny bandages on the spidery cracks running through my body.
I am not alone anymore.
And not as lonely as you’d want me to be.
I am not okay.
Your sentences still grip me in my sleep, reminders of who I was
and who I was to you.
Longing for that feeling, the smoke of you surrounding me.
An addictive false sense of security.
thinking that although you would rather pretend that I don’t exist anymore without you, I am standing here waiting for you to look me in the eye.
but maybe you can’t.
because you already know that you were wrong.
Something I thought I would never say again,
Was a damaged dream that you convinced me could be fixed.
Well, I fixed it.
Is no more.
Is not you and me,
It is hate and loyalty.
A combination as sickly sweet
As the poison that would drip from your lips.
do not hate me,
you hate what I did.