#with the net playing havoc

[srbachchan]

DAY 5700

Jalsa, Mumbai Sept 25/26, 2023 Mon/Tue 1:34 AM

Birthday - EF Nada Emad Mohmmed .. Ef Vikas Agarwal Tuesday, 26 September .. wishing you the best for the day your birthday and an affection from the Ef family 🌹

The books they lie about the home in selected racks and places of attention .. and the desire to read all of them persists .. the time factor plays havoc and the desire recedes ..

To work .. to work on schedule .. to work on the creative interests of the mind .. overtakes all else in this strange and complex world ..

They say the world is not complex at all .. it is the mind , our mind that makes it look so .. and what the mind observes, brings belief .. and belief is not challenged ..

Who built belief ?

The mind or belief itself ..

A certainty with some of the debatable components of this blogomaestra .. but relatable and in many ways true ..

But back to books and the desire and what it means to us all .. for as is now prevalent, books and their readings have become rare and scarce ..

Our dependence on the knowledge of the Net has become invaluable .. they have replaced the elder knowledged of homes and given so many alternatives that the elder is now an unknown entity ..

Culture tradition and its sanctity still prevails .. but by and large the distance keeps increasing each day .. change has become synonymous with ... errrrr , never mind .. it may instigate the better into a diatribe of arguments ..

The night be young still .. or so the youth and their dedication to the 'visarjan' of Ganapati Bappa make us believe .. they are in their numbers and dedicated voice .. they walk drive past the GOJ and their enthusiasm is penetrative and divine ...

May the Lord Ganesh, the eliminator of all evil, be in their protection

Amitabh Bachchan

[tteokdoroki]

OCTOBER 22ND. HARLEY QUINN

“stupid bats! you're ruinin' date night!”

♱ — satoru gojo + weaponsplay.

♱ — synopsis; she was fearless, crazier than him and god help the poor soul who dared to cross satoru gojo’s harley quinn during her alone time with her beloved puddin’.

♱ —length; 5.5K

♱ — warnings; please read for your own safety! mdni, smut 18+, heavy smut, mentions of smoking, strip clubs, toji being a slimeball, degradation, lingerie, praise, corruption, cockwarming, exhibitionism, power dynamics, weapons play, gun play, knife play, blood play, clothed sex, brief daddy!kink, fem!reader, harley quinn!reader, joker!gojo. not beta read !

♱ — notes; hello again cuties!! i cant believe its the fourth fic already omg, i hope you like this one!! idk how i feel about it but i hope you guys like it at least. mwah <3 - m.list ₊ kinktober m.list ₊ taglist 𓆩♡𓆪

may god help whoever pissed you the fuck off.

behind every great man, and all the power he may have, is an equally spectacular woman. 

with the exception of satoru gojo, a man who ruled almost an entire city— a man but only a few steps behind the woman he loved. you’re part of the reason he’s even made it this far, surviving under the noses and the partnerships of dirty city cops and big bad crime bosses. he did use you, his pretty little play thing— your alluring eyes, your gorgeous body, your voice that made an itch run up and down his spine. 

you were really what let the notorious satoru gojo stay in control. 

stay being, the feared, the gruesome, joker. 

maybe the relationship you had formed through the way gojo was obsessed with your obession over him—or because of how crazy you just might be. a murderer wrapped in a dazzling, sexy fucking mystery. at this point, the lines between love and lust were far too blurred to be distinguished— maybe satoru did love you, if he left himself fall just enough. he wouldn’t let anyone else have you, not in the same way he did. you’d claimed him far before he had a chance to claim you. 

if there was a target on gojo’s back, you’d have taken care of it before he even knew he was at risk of death. not that he feared it…he was the most powerful man alive, but you were like a saftey net, having you made the man feel stronger— even if you weren’t weak. in exchange for every breath he took, every moment that you’d protected him, no crime boss in the city under gojo’s rule could put their hands on you— no matter how much havoc you wreaked or lives you ruined. 

truth be told, for a man who commanded so much fear, who smiled at the sight of crimson blood— gojo couldn’t seem to figure out why you didn’t run for the hills at the first sight of him. but perhaps in the time you’d spent trying to fix the broken dancer in his jewellery box head, maybe he’d broken you down too and made you just like him. fearless and crazier than him.

“puddin’,” you drawl, dainty fingers trained to kill twirl a lock of gojo’s white hair between them. “‘m mad at’cha.” 

you’d come to one of gojo’s clubs for the night— the weight of a business deal clinging to the sweaty air as bodies on bodies grinded and slid against one another. your role tonight, was to play consolation prize-on-a-strip-pole for the client, toji fushiguro. your man wanted his hands on that man’s money. the money he owed gojo, it was kinda funny, the loan toji had taken never even touched his son; and after that night the kid would probably never see his father again. gojo’d take his money and blow his brains out.

but that wasn’t a price high enough for the way the other man had touched you tonight, his scummy fingers nothing like the man you adored’s pulling at parts of you where your pretty baby doll blue lingerie showed the slightest slither of skin. you’d dressed like this for satoru only, glossed lips drawn into a heavy spout when he’d whistled you over to dance for his client. 

it was clear you weren’t in any mood to toy with toji before his inevitable last moments while gojo talked his ear off about percentages and loans fushiguro’s was too dumb to understand. still, you did what your lover asked of you— desperate for ocean eyes to trace down the pearls and pretty lace that moulded to fit the curve of your breasts, the gems that glimmered and dangled just over your skimpy panties whenever you shook or twirled or bent over filthy toji fushiguro’s lap ( his obvious boner prodding into your bare thighs as you worked ).

of course the sight only served to rile gojo up, a cool fire in his heart spreading through his veins like his blood was gasoline whenever you giggled at toji’s half assed compliments. you were only ever meant to smile for satoru, to be this giddy over the strings of words that barely gave you the time of day. he was jealous, yes— unbelievably so but you both had a job to do. 

that was until toji unceremoniously cups your covered cunt with a sleazy hand and asks satoru if “this pretty hunk of meat can be loaned as well.” 

you lose your cool before gojo does and before anyone knows it, the knife concealed in your dainty baby blue garter belt is lodged deep enough into toji's hand, that it makes the grown man cry. 

the reaction was perfectly within your right; bloodlust curling around the dilated pupil in your eye— but gojo had given you the cold shoulder ( no pun intended ) for supposedly messing up his deal— even though you’d done all of this for him. dressed pretty and danced all for him. you’re pissed, rightfully so, and drag your man by the tie into his back office, forcing him down onto the couch to take a seat and learn his lesson.

no one turns their back on you. 

and that brings you both to now, blood red lipstick smeared along gojo’s silver moon skin— dragged up his jawline and right under his ear. the crime boss is a little high, running on the fumes of the party roaring outside while intoxicated with liquid lust and obsession directed towards you. his hands roam your blistering hot body, lips on yours despite the plasticky taste of fenty product glossing your own. he misses the metallic, binding down on the pink stained flesh to draw blood— groaning into your mouth as it lingers on his tongue before satoru forces it down your throat.

there are still people who work here in the room, either stuck in their places not knowing where to look or casting their gazes elsewhere as the two of you make out. “get the fuck out,” gojo hisses when he finally comes up for air, though his brain is fizzing like popping candy and he can’t quite think straight without his mind running right back to you. “d’aw… you mad at me princess?” his voice is strained in the base of his throat, since somewhere in the mix of sloppy kisses you’ve ripped through tight dress pants, slid your glistening baby blue panties to the side and have slid yourself down onto gojo’s pulsating cock, keeping it tucked away in your warmth. 

even you’re out of breath, chest heaving as you adjust around the lengthy stretch of satoru gojo. “i dressed all pretty for you,” you state, ribbed walls kissing the fat blue vein that wrap around gojo. you drop down his balls, happy to take him into your walls. “and this,” you clench, sending a ripple of desire through the man at your mercy. “this is the thanks i get?” you look down at the silver haired crime boss, hair dishevelled and out of place, through your doe eyes and push your hands into his chest. “men are so useless puddin’.” 

your hips peel from gojo’s clothed thighs, a sticky slap resounding in the back room when you thrust back down— watching your man splutter, reaching up to your chest to toy with the flimsy lace around your breasts. “fuck princess,” he heaves in a murky breath, nails digging into your soft mounds. “y’so right, ‘m useless. fucking useless.” 

it’s illegal how warm and wet you are, gojo’s sensitive tip nudging against your silken walls as they ripple around him and you cockwarm him. there’s got to be some sort of criminal charge for this, one that’ll keep him locked up in your tightness for all of eternity. “want it off.” he demands, slender fingers poking underneath the material of your bra. “take it off baby, lemme see.” just as ice cold and ringed fingers brush over your nipples, the crime boss thrusts up into you— delirious with addiction and lust, sapphire eyes lost in the abyss of his skull just from feeling you. 

“don’t think ya deserve it, mista ‘g!” with your eyes bright and crazed, you mock gojo, keeping yourself seated in his lap as he thrusts up into you again, working his hips into a steady rhythm— enough for the sound of his balls tapping against your ass to echo throughout the room accompanied by light breaths of exertion. 

he’s in deep, tip brushing your gummy walls and satoru knows you’ll break soon, he can feel it in the shirt of your hips and how you suck him down nice and wetly. “c’mon baby, c’mon,” the man coos, looking up at you with big blue eyes— their silvering flecks begging you for mercy as if you’re a god. “you know you want it, that you can take it. you wanna be fucked so good, i know princess. let me take care of you.” a large hand reaches around the chub of your pretty hips, fingers spread over the expanse of your soft tummy to dip just over your folds, the finger tips brushing against your swelling clit from over the hole in your lingerie. 

you tremble, sensitive and gojo’s eyes light up. “atta girl, give into daddy, lemme have you…” the man’s words are so softly spoken for someone who lives off the sound of screaming victims. “oh princess, ya hear that?” his blunt nails, blood caked underneath them sink into the globes of your ass— holding you just above his lap so you can listen to the lewd, squelch of your sex as he slips in and out of you with every slow roll of hips up into you, creamy strings of your arousal clinging to the blue forked veins decorating his cock. “that’s how much you need me, listen to that. you need me.” 

satoru feeds you sweet lies that keeps you under his spell— keeps you under his possession and drowns you with obsession. he keeps you pacified with a lazy bump and grind, barely giving you a second to breathe or think outside of the way he fucks up into you just right. there’s a hand on the back of your neck that keeps you anchored down to your puddin’, your lips parted as gojo coaxes you into his realm of bloody sin and breathes desire into youropen mouth. the way you move with one another, sensual sticky grinds is a dance routine that only lovers know— fingertips and wandering hands alike able to touch and prod and pinch at the sensitive spots you’ve discovered on one another. 

“fuck, ‘toru,” your whimper betrays your, just like your body does— you’re supposed to be mad at him, using him but your frame shakes and blossoms under satoru’s touch, blood coursing through your veins as it’s dotted with hormones of lust, stinging at your clit. “son of’a bitch,” is all you can manage when satoru’s lips attach to the valley between your bouncing breasts from over your clothes, sucking a mark into the gap with his tongue rolling saliva over the abused area. he gets you fucked up and dizzy on lust as if it were a drug— looking up at you with hooded sapphire eyes, clinging onto the reaction of his mouth working wonders across your hot flesh.

the crime boss abandons the cliffs of your collarbones, sloppily kissing down to your pebbled nipples as you grind down on his aching dick, back and forth and matching satoru’s toe curling pace— barely pulling out of your selfish little hole, dripping with liquid gold, adding a shine to his thighs under the dingy back light of his club and a wetness to your clothes. every stroke of his dick within the depths of your silken, ribbed walls earns you a lap from the tip of his tongue around your budding nipples and the same action rewards satoru with your arching back and a muffled whine.

“use me,” gojo let’s go of your saliva soaked breast with pop, before he near pleads as if he’s in court and insanity is the alibi to excuse all of his crimes— aching to be locked away in your pulsating warmth for all of time. there’s spit on his lips and chin, a fresh red tint glowing under his pale skin with the heat of his blood blush as he thrusts up and barely pulls back from the heaven between your thighs.

“wonderin’ how pretty you’ll look coming undone in this pretty little get up f’me, princess,” he pants, gaze dropping and fascinated by his milky cock disappearing into your fat pussy. “got all my attention now, don’t gotta fight someone over me— fuck,” drawling out his words, the man uses slender fingers to spread your netherlips apart, showing of the glaze of your arousal as it coats him to his hungry eyes.

he’s a powerfully pathetic man beneath you, grinding up against your salacious insides— jamming into your g-spot, and it makes you mad, it frustrates you how good gojo is able to make you feel even when he’s wounded your heart. 

“use me baby, come on. work those pretty little hips, make yourself feel good.” satoru’s cheeks flush a pretty pink; tongue soaked in his own spit as he glances up at you once more— panting like a wet, dirty dog and fucking up into you to his hearts content. using you for his own pleasure even after how he treated you today. you look so good like this, fuck, and gojo thinks about how lucky he is to have a girl like you want a man like him— no one else gets to watch strings of drool break away from the roof of your mouth each time you moan, no one else has pleasure of brutally jackhammering into you, letting you adjust to the stretch of him all up against you.

bouncing in your lover’s lap, you clench down hard until there’s a hiccup in the way he pounds at your puffy mound, and he chokes on a deep whine, blue eyes flickering down to where he pulls himself inside of you.. “really, mista g?” you sigh dreamily, hearts dotted like sparkles in your eyes as you cup his cheeks with one hand to keep his gaze on you and yanking the gun from the holster on his taut waist at the same time. “you really are so pathetic puddin’,” 

those same slender fingers on one of his large hands have bruising grip on your waist— the shape of satoru’s fingertips indented into your supple, blemished flesh before he lets go to flip a switch blade against your throat. “being in love with you makes me pathetic, angel?” there’s a gasp that lies wet on the seam of gojo’s lips, shaky as he peels his sweaty thighs away from yours and tugs his cock from your snugness of your oozing cunt before cantering forward and shoving it right up into your womb. the force makes both of you drool, the knife against your throat just nicking your smooth skin and your finger jumps to find the trigger of your gun. 

“go ahead, shoot me.” he goads your through gritted teeth, eyes bright with adrenaline and temptation. so you press the barrel of you weapon against the crime boss’ shining forehead and between moonlight coloured locks, letting satoru pacify himself with licking the trail of crimson dripping from your neck in the meantime. blood should be freezing in his veins, not the temperate prickle of euphoria slipping through his veins. you’re a killer, and that excites him, who knows what you’ll do to gojo if given the chance… if you didn’t love him like this. “dead or alive, this pussy’s mine. you’re mine. i’m yours.” 

you can hear the desperation caught in the ridges of gojo’s voice while he rocks himself into you feverishly, chest heaving as his pace turns erratic with excitement— and you’re the same, blood rushing through your your body carrying a stream of sex hormones and dopamine. “yeah?” you tilt your head with a sinister murmur, licking the salt from your lips, a murderously obsessed glint in your eye. “you’re mine, puddin’,” 

maybe you’re crazy; but that doesn’t matter to satoru, not when his heart beats hard against his rib cage in anticipation. “filthy fucking boy,” you simper. “i could kill you and you’d still be cumming like a dirty slut, huh puddin’?” if he really were to die here, he’d be happy, covered in everything that is you, stuffed inside the woman he loves.

then, you pull the trigger, doe eyes closed adrenaline ceasing your pulse for just a second and—

click. the gun doesn’t go off.

the sick smile gojo gives you is enough to cloud your brain, make you dizzier as he leans upwards to catch your lips in a messy, sloppy kiss— tongue pressing into your mouth, transferring the taste of iron onto your own. “see baby,” he spits along the seam of your mouth, connecting you by saliva there and by fat beads of precum between your sore thighs. gojo’s cock practically fights your selfish pussy to pull out, digging into your g-spot as you fall into a tune of creamy, sensual sex. the blade is still ice cold between your bodies, the man grazing the tip down your middle, over the swell of your meaty thighs… breaking skin shallowly as gojo draws shapes of love, hearts and his name over the tops of them.

the red blood liquid seeps between your legs, leaking from your fresh wounds, joining the slick at clings to your sexes. “does that hurt good angel, can i cut you up some more?” gojo is close to losing it over the mess where your bodies join, getting dizzy, wanting to pull more juices and whines from your pussy and sweet lips.

“shut up, toru,” but you pay no mind to the slight sting as if you’re used to it and you’re wistful when you look at him again, tears caught in your lashes despite how estatic you are. “you trust me?” gojo watches you squeal, leaning back in his seat as you pull your ass off of him, squeezing down on his creamy tip and overwhelming each one of his senses— blue eyes sent back into his skull. 

“mhm baby…with my life,” he slurs avidly, sounding like he’s barely there, clinging onto his existence for the ecstasy you have gojo in is driving him off of the walls. satoru pushes his head up against the barrel still in his face, with glinting eyes, keeping it there before he flops back against the couch, you nestle yourself on his chest— practically pounding yourself down on the curve of his girth, drooling honey down his shaft, juices catching on the purpling veins there. how can you not know? you are gojo’s life. 

a jack of all trades, his ace… his lucky fixation.

there’s a knock at the door, barely heard over the chorus of skin slapping on skin, the pap of your swollen mound while the crime boss churns up your insides until he’s in heaven. everything is so obscene, unholy sounds from your precious parts

tingling passionately in the air between you due to the crude mix of your bodily fluids. “well ya shouldn’t,” you growl with a bright blood lust in your veins, cocking your gun again. there’s no hesitation in your next moves, putting a bullet in the leg of the person entering only to disrupt you both with practiced ease. “‘m dangerous, honey.” 

the intruder hits the ground with a dull thud, which goes unheard under the sound of skin clapping against skin with no rhyme or rhythm— delirious and delectable moans bouncing off the walls.

seeing you effortlessly threaten someone’s life makes gojo’s dick throb deliciously inside of you. “don’t care angel. i’d let’cha fuck me up real pretty,” he laments dreamily over the weight of saliva pooling on his tongue, gaze honed in on where your bodies join, obsessing with how your puffy clit sticks to his pelvis every time he pulls out of your slick slit. “do anything you fucking want to me—“ 

with a roll of your eyes— you drag the gun back between your sex craved bodies and nudge it past satoru’s glossed lips, forcing it deeper into his mouth until it his uvula. “shut up, baby, ya talk way too much.” your voice is sweet, like honey running through the man’s ears but your expression is crazed, rabid as if hurting satoru only serves to turn you on more. or maybe it’s seeing a man so powerful, so feared just like him, sucking on a gun like he’s taking a cock down his throat— so obedient for someone so used to control. his pink tongue darts out to roll across the weapon, cool in gojo’s mouth despite how hot the air between your grinding, sweat slicked bodies pressed against one another. “you take it like a bitch, i know you can do better.” 

letting your head roll to the side, you thrust the gun deep into the hazy heat of satoru’s mouth in tune with your hips slamming down on his aching dick— plunging him as deep as he can go, as much as he can take without passing out on you. “you’re such a mess toru, s’embarrasing h-how much you want this,” you grin, somewhat sadistic, pussy gripping the man for dear life— despite the crude mix of arousal that lets you slide up and down his length so easily. “big bad satoru. mista g. the joker… swallowing down my gun like s’my cock.” you giggle, the condescending tone of your words has gojo’s mind spinning, pushing whatever leaks from his tip further into your puckered hole. 

gojo stubbles forward, gagging on the gun, coating it in his spit with his sapphire eyes crossed with a pink flush to his cheeks. “that’s it puddin’, fuck it.” you coo, hazy and impressed before you let your perfectly manicured finger slip over the trigger once more. “fuck me, this gun. like ya mean it, kay?” 

he’d do whatever you want if you asked him to, he’d rip stars from the sky— burn cities to ashes, line everyone who’s ever hurt you or lead you to this fucked up life on their knees and kill them off one by one if you needed him too. there wasn’t a person or thing that could stop gojo’s heart from following after your every move, keeping you by his side for all of time. 

keeping you stuffed full on his cock, your pussy frothing a bubbly white. between ravaging and feverish thrusts, the crime boss swipes a thumb over your pleasure nub, writing his name in calculated circles over it and smoothing obtuse globs of precum into it too. gojo barely flinches when the gun clicks with an empty shot, hardly breathing with his throat constricting around the barrel at your doing. 

liquid lust oozes down his balls as you pull the weapon from his mouth— watching the string of saliva that connects satoru to it. “s’kinda disgustin’ puddin’,” rolling your hips tantalisingly, you wrap your arms around gojo’s head to hug him to your chest in comfort— smiling as he gasps for air desperately. “how much you’d so f’me, you’re a mess.” 

“i love you,” satoru counters, trembling against your bosom, white ( though not pure ) hair sticking to your blistering skin. now it’s his turn. he whips his blade out once more; tearing through the sleeves of your pretty lingerie, making sure to pound you until his seed marks your insides and your swollen lips form that nice o-shape you make when you’re falling apart from pleasure. “told you angel, i’d do anything for you.” you gasp at the cold air hitting your skin, then mewl like a fucking pornstar at gojo’s mouth on your breast again— taking your puffy nipples between his teeth and rolling them. “make you feel good, make you see fuckin’ stars.” he looks up at you, so unlike the cool and collected mob boss he usually is and instead, a puppy desperate for your approval.

“if y-you’re that obsessed with m-me,” you squeal, wringing your hands in moonlight locks, every push and pull of satoru’s wet cock sending orgasmic shocks through his system. “then make me cum, s'humiliating how you haven’t yet, can’t you do anythin’. make yourself useful—“

the man doesn’t respond, using one hand to grab the fat at your ass to pull you up and down on him, holding you up so he can fuck you fast and hard— pressing close to your cervix while you gush like a river, face tingling with heat. “keep talkin’ like that baby,” he pleads, almost begging you for more…talking down on him only motivates satoru more, only makes him want to fuck you until he feels like he deserves the honour of bathing his dick in your juices. “makes me so fucking hard for you,” 

spinning the blade between his fingers on the other hand, he lets it cut into your flesh with careful affection at your collarbones— growling into the skin on your chest with a trail of sloppy kisses, fixated on the droplets of ruby that ooze from your new wound. his eager tongue slips over it, sucking on the taste of your iron blood, moaning at the taboo flavour. “fuck ‘toru, fuck me good. y’can do better than this,”  though he claws at your round ass to hold you in place, balls heavy with cum drumming against the peachy flesh, satoru slips out from just how fast he’s trying to pound you. “s’much cock ‘n ya don’t even know how t’fuckin’ use it.” 

useless, he’s so fucking useless and he can barely breathe— using his hold on you to drag your sloppy pussy over his cockhead, struggling to slip it back into with how shaky you both are. close to the edge, close to falling apart. “work with me angel, lemme fuck you again. lemme in, want this angel cunt so bad. adore it.” satoru pleads, bulbous and red tip prodding at your entrance with desire brewing heavy between you both in the sex tainted air. the couch breaks beneath you with the weight of your bump and grind, smearing precum and blood about the place. 

“that’s it… oh fuck me, open up f’me angel, pussy so good, you’re so fucking good to me,” the man drawls; listening to the way your pussy peels away from his soaked thighs with a sticky noise as he tries to sink back into your ribbed, silken walls. gojo flips the knife between hands, carving shapes of love into your blemished, soft skin. a heart against your ass, his initials under your breast— whatever you allow him to do, blood soiling through the pale blue of your darling outfit. and fuck if the crimson colour doesn’t make you shine. “s-shit! there we fuckin’ go.” 

like a fallen angel, carrying the sins of satoru gojo’s crimes on tone blood soaked wings. 

using two fingers, you gather the nasty mix of your mixed arousals and the droplets of your blood— pushing the digits into the crime boss’ mouth and pressing down on his tongue. “y’talk so much shit for someone who can barely make a girl cum, puddin’,” you stutter out, tail end of your words falling into a high pitched moan as gojo fills you up once more in one fail swoop. he bullies his way right up to your womb— clit grinding against your lover’s hip bone painted with your sweet scented juices. “oh baby, r-right there!” you exclaim, but the crime lord can’t tell if it’s from you being so full once more, or because of the cute heart he carves into your inner thigh. 

but no matter how much you keep up the act, gojo knows your body like the back of his hand— he knows what you like, how you adore his tongue running between your two fingers like he’s slurping on your puffy folds, nudging it’s pink tip over your darling clit. you shove your digits deeper, lifting and dropping your abused, raw cunt down on the man like your life depends on it— light headed from blood loss and desire. satoru’s cockhead burns past your entrance in tune with your fingers in his mouth, sucking the taste of iron and honey from them— soaking himself in your warmth before he slams up into you. 

he only lets you ruin him and his image because he loves you, because he can’t stand to picture you with another man like toji— because being a man of his calibre he knows that he needs to be brought down a notch. “you’re so pretty,” gojo heaves, building up the momentum inside you— pushing himself so deep that he brushes your cervix and the springs in the couch start to break. “don’t know what i was thinking lettin’ toji touch you. you’re so pretty, down here too— fuck!” he groans deep, when your fingers leave his mouth. his jaw is sore but he’s too fucked out to care. 

the both of you are in a daze, and satoru is so sweet unlike his usual cruel self— blissed out beneath you. “am i pretty enough to die for, puddin’?” you ask him through ragged breaths— throwing your head back as gojo leans forward with a craving for the salt on your skin, licking a trail through the red that stains between your breaths. the lewd sucking bounces off the walls, harmonising with the squelch of your pussy that squirts copious amounts of nectar every time his balls clap against you. somehow, through the maze of your limbs you grab at the discarded gun and point it to the back of your skull— pressing your forehead against your lover’s. “are you scared baby? worried i might kill is both.” 

gojo doesn’t fear death. 

and of course you are— but gojo can’t find it in himself to answer you just yet; since your body jerks with stimulation and your cunt flutters around him, acting as the tell tale signs that your orgasm is approaching. he surges forward, sinful mouth locking with yours in a slow kiss— teeth and tongue clashing, his canines sinking into your lower lip enough to draw blood. 

“angel… please,” gojo’s hips stutter, his heart rate skyrocketing, cock white with the creamy ring your pussy froths at the base. “please..” he loses his grip on the switch blade, the frosty feeling metal nestled between your throats, pressed up against vital veins and pressing into your skin just enough to draw more blood. 

“c’mon mista ‘g? why so serious? smile a little,” you say hoarsely— forcing the man to grin with your fingers pulling at the corners of his bloody lips. “smile ‘n answer for me, my little joker. would you die for me?” you’re choking out his cock, milking it for dear life and threatening to put a bullet through both of your skulls and satoru gojo’s never been more turned on by it— sprinting towards his high.

he tears up, nodding his head, dropping his weapon to wrap his arms around your waist while pulling you down onto his cock and keeping you there— barely letting you off of it.

“i’d die for you; a million times over.” 

and for the last time that night, you pull the trigger. 

and again, it’s another blank. 

fear and adrenaline sparks at your mind, only heightening the sensitivity of your bodies close to orgasm… and that’s all it takes to throw both of you over the edge, falling a limp mess of blood, cum and spit, smoke and knife wounds in one another’s arms as white flashes behind your eyes. the knots in your stomach snap, sloppy cunt streaming clear with your release as a loud, dirty moan tears in the ridges of your throat. “p-puddin’! s-satoru!” you cry out sinfully, and gojo follows suit, losing his words and all ties to any form of sanity. 

“f-fuck angel, gonna cum. gonna finally fucking fill you up, just how you want— gonna be useful.” satoru mumbles, spilling into you as you squirm in his lap during your own comedown. “c-cummin’! fucking hell.” his seed coats your inner walls with thick white, so much of him flooding your womb that he’s forced out of you, smearing the rest of the opaque, viscous seed against your sore and fleshy thighs.

still releasing in spurts, satoru pulls out from your heat— both of you sighing in content while his cum pools in your tiny hole, his tip nudging against the heart on your inner, leaking against it sweetly. “i love you puddin’,” gojo hears you mumble over the static in his brain, your voice drowsy and sweet. “you’re mine, kay? no one else can have me but you.” 

and just like you say, every little bit of the man is yours— because no matter who marks who, satoru gojo would put his life on the line for you no matter the situation. 

it was his innate will, part and parcel of his obsession with you. 

for who was the joker, without his harley quinn.

[irisbleufic]

We had tickets to see Hadestown both last night and this afternoon in Albuquerque because the seats were so fucking affordable, like…we got 2 performances, 2 seats each, for what it would cost in any other city to see it just once. Absolutely bonkers.

Last night’s show? Electrifying in a way that the cast combination we saw in Fort Worth (the first time we saw it) just wasn’t. Amaya Braganza (Eurydice), Daniel Tracht (Orpheus), Lana Gordon (Persephone), Matthew Patrick Quinn (Hades), and Will Mann (Hermes) nailed it. 20/10, no notes. IMO, they were better than the original cast recording in every respect, and better than the Fort Worth cast in most respects (Hades was the same in Fort Worth, but every other principal performer has changed since). I’ll never forget it.

Today’s show, same cast? The fire alarm was pulled less than 10 minutes into the show. The net result was the show effectively starting an hour late, and something happened during intermission where one of the Eurydice understudies had to come on unexpectedly for the remainder of the show. The understudy was still excellent, but man, the fire drill really played havoc with the energy.

Last night’s show might be one of the best live performances of anything I’ve ever seen, though. It’s harder to make me cry with music than it used to be, but last night got to me. Hades and Persephone were both crying silently, but so openly during Epic III that you could see their tears hitting the stage.

(It also made me feel really, really fucking justified in what I wrote in that fusion fic earlier this year, because Jesus Christ. The vibe I was aiming for wasn’t 100% in the Fort Worth performance, but it sure as hell was in last night’s and today’s.)

[katnissdoesnotfollowback]

WIP File Game

I was tagged by @pookieh and @thelettersfromnoone Thanks for the tags, friends ❤️

Rules: In a new post, post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet of it. Tag as many people as you have WIPs.

I’m going to add some rules here because I plan on tagging a few artists as well. For artists, instead of a snippet, post a screenshot or pic of one part of your work I progress OR tell us a little bit about it. Maybe this won’t work so well since I’m operating on the assumption that artists, like writers, have multiple pieces that they might be working on at once… 😬

Sooooo… I had to pick and choose how I was gonna do this because the number of files after ten+ years of fanfic writing is slightly insane. And because I can, I’ve taken notes from @thelettersfromnoone and divide them into categories.

“In progress” means currently posting to ao3 but not complete. The last few on this list haven’t seen updates in close to a decade but they’re not abandoned yet (crazed laughter in the background).

Spellbound

Outside Chance*

Outside Expectations*

Outside the Lines*

Where the Stars Crumble to Life

Holiday Havoc Ensues

No Reason

Fickle Games

Ampersand

Everything You Are

One Last Hope

“In progress” actually means in the planning, outlining, and/or drafting stages. Pieces of these may or may not have already been posted to tumblr or other places but I am actively working on all of these, depending on my mood, and hoping to start posting the actual fics to ao3 within the next year…. Hahahahaha. 😒 There are a few notable exceptions that I’ll talk about if someone asks. This list is in no particular order.

Spiral & Collision / Ellipses and Ignition

Caught in the Net of the World

To Know Not to Be Known

Babbling Brookes*

Grief Catches Us All

You + Me

In the Eyes of My Love

The Turning of the Seasons

Hand porn

The Touch of Time

The Courtship of Lambs

Septimus

In the Waiting Dark (The Red Moon Rises)

Crush My Bones with Bittersweet

The Cold Side of the Bed

Nude Dude Food

Yeah, I’m not tagging that many people. And that’s the trimmed down version. 🤦🏻‍♀️ but I will tag a few!

If you so choose to play: @frick6101719 , @browneyeddevil , @deinde-prandium, @mrspeetamellark , @charlunday @am2c @gremlinddrawss @little-lynx

[asknarashikari]

Igarashi Family beach headcanons.

Lovekov gives into her snake desires to just lay in the sun for warmth and bury herself into the sand should she get too hot

Sakura and Papa-san set up the volleyball net and drag Ikki and Hiromi to join them

Mama-san yells at them to put sunscreen on because she doesn't want to deal with Genta or Ikki looking like a lobster and whining on the drive back home

Hana and Daiji sit back and watch their respective partners play, totally not oggling them in any way that can be proven (their wearing sunglasses)

Tamaki helps set up the umbrella and chairs

Ikki and Sakura 100% throw Daiji into the ocean (Hiromi cuddles him while he dries off)

Hana and Sakura make a sand castle with Lovekov

Papa-san tries to surf, but whipes out after the first few tries

George was not invited but shows up anyways

Not included but inevitably happens: Olteca shows up to wreak havoc, having broken out of prison somehow again. But because the Igarashi fam is not on vacation without their good luck charms (Hiromi and Hana), he is dispatched with little to no drama and they return to their peaceful beach trip after tying him up and burying him up to his head

Vice cheerfully suggests to play that game where you try to whack a melon while blindfolded, only the melon is right next to Olteca's head

[lazysublimeengineer]

how much is the bid for your heart? {Chapter 2 - the bet}

Summary:“How about a bet Hiori?” Isagi looked at him with a gleam in his eyes that sent his nerves skyrocketing inside of him.“About what exactly?” Hiori arched a brow at him and masked the havoc that the other was wreaking inside his heart.“Whoever wins this practice match gets to be the other’s slave for a week.” Isagi replied with a crooked grin on his lips.“Are ya really sure ya wanna do this Isagi-kun?” Hiori asked with a sardonic smile playing on his lips.“I wouldn’t suggest it if I’m not.” He retorted.“Then prepare yourself to be my slave for a week because I can see yer defeat miles away from here.” Hiori shot back with a cheerful yet ruthless smile on his face.Or Hiori and Isagi played with fire until one of them gets burned.Characters: Isagi Y., Hiori Y., Reo M., Chigiri H., Tokimitsu A., Kurona R., Nagi S.Chapter 2: the bet

Here's the link for the first chapter below:

At the Manshine City Headquarters...

It was one of those days where they were given a reprieve from the intense match and underwhelming results that they experienced from PxG.

Of course, a practice match would likely resume in the next few days but right now they were given a free day today just to rest and gather their bearings in the facility.

Chigiri was about to make his way to the cafeteria when he spotted a familiar set of lavender locks tied with a bun glistening under the bright lights of the open field.

It was the figure of Reo practicing alone out there in the field, dribbling the ball under his feet before he took a shot and sent it flying inside the net.

Huh.

Nagi wasn’t with him today.

It seemed odd in Chigiri’s eyes to see Reo alone and without the lazy genius by his side. But at the same time, it really wasn’t considering on what they’d been through before they reached their amended friendship at Manshine.

“Still practicing even on our day off? What a hardworking lad you are.” Chigiri commented idly as he decided to approach him on the field with a casual expression on his face.

“Well, you know me. I like trying out a few strategies that I have in mind.” Reo answered as he paused and took the bottle of water from the ground and started to drink it.

“It may be easier to visualize and replicate it if you have a partner with you. Where is Nagi by the way?” Chigiri asked.

“Still sleeping. He slept late at night again after finishing a game on his phone. So, I decided to practice on my own today rather than wasting my time trying to make him get up when he sleeps like a log.” Reo sighed as he put back the cap on the lid after drinking some water.

“Hmm... How about a practice match against me then? Let’s see if your well thought out strategies are quite effective or not.” Chigiri suggested.

“Oh?” Reo arched a brow at him. “Wanna practice with me today? Can you keep up?” He asked teasingly.

“Oh, c’mon Reo! It’s not like we haven’t done this before. We basically practice with Kunigami back then at the second selection.” Chigiri replied flippantly. “Or maybe you’re getting cold feet against me when I ranked higher than you?” He added cheekily.

Chigiri didn’t usually boast of his skills and stats, but he had a way of getting a rise out of people and Reo was no different.

The lavender-haired player wasn’t the one to back down from a challenge and he also wanted to see for himself how far he had come.

A glimmer sparkled in Reo’s eyes and Chigiri smirked at him.

Hook, line and sinker.

“Oh? The Blue Lock Princess getting all cocky now huh? Well, don’t blame me in the end if you’re gonna eat dirt after the match.” Reo grinned at him widely before they started the match.

“Bring it on rich boy. I’d like to see you try.” Chigiri shot back at him as his vermillion irises gleamed challengingly at him.

The next few moments between the two of them passed out in a blur as both were involved in an intense and electrifying match against each other.

Even if it was just a practice match between the two of them, neither of them wanted to take it easy and wanted to one up against one another.

The current standing was now they’re on an even score and one goal from either of them would be the deciding factor of the winner.

Chigiri’s hair was dancing exquisitely on the field as he moved with a flawless speed and agility, but Reo refused to be distracted nor mesmerized by the beauty of the Blue Lock Princess in front of him as he had a goal to make.

One of Reo’s skills was keeping the ball secured firmly on his heel while maneuvering effortlessly against the opponents and seeing a place where a high possibility of scoring a goal was.

He had already envisioned how he would make his own goal and finished their practice match with the victory under his belt when he suddenly came into a screeching halt as his eyes widened when Chigiri appeared in front of him out of nowhere.

What the hell?

Where did he come from?

Had he come into his blind spot?

It seemed that Chigiri was living up to his trademark as the Red Panther as he failed to notice how swiftly he was able to keep up with him.

“Not so fast boy.” The redhead smirked at him deviously as he tried to intercept and steal the ball from him. However, Reo didn’t give up easily and quickly got his bearings and tried to maneuver against him.

But the redhead was faster than him and quickly countered on him which resulted in Reo losing his balance and haphazardly took him by the sleeve of his shirt thus resulting in both of them losing their balance on the field and rolling into the grass.

A flash of momentary pain caught them before Reo struggled to open his eyes and found out that he was lying on the grassy field with Chigiri on top of him and holding his waist as if to provide him a support and prevent him from incurring any other damage on his body. But he was looking at him with wide eyes as if he too was taken aback by the event itself.

Reo’s breath got caught up in his throat and his heart did a weird flip flop inside his chest as the proximity between the two of them did strange wonders on his body and senses.

Neither were saying a word to each other, and a complete silence enveloped them for a moment.

That was until Reo cleared his throat and shattered the indescribable moment that they had.

Chigiri quickly let him go as if his hands burned and stood up. He tried to act nonchalant and casual, but he could feel the tips of his ears growing hot at the position that they were in a few seconds ago.

He offered his hand to Reo, which the other accepted in silence and stood up.

“Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to lose my footing and came stumbling down with you.” Reo said quietly as he dusted himself off.

“Nah. That’s fine. It happens sometimes. It’s normal.” Chigiri tried to play it cool. “I guess we’ve been practicing for too long, we need to call it a day since we might get a practice match tomorrow.” He added.

“Yeah. I’ll hit the showers later.” Reo replied.

“Cool. I’ll be off then. See you later at the cafeteria.” Chigiri answered quickly and didn’t wait for him to respond, leaving hastily and without looking back at him.

He ignored the way his heartbeat like crazy inside his chest lest he found himself getting these chaotic thoughts swirled inside of him courtesy of the young heir himself.

At the Bastard Munchen Headquarters...

Sweat was running down his temples, but he paid no attention to it as his focus was to observe keenly which players were in a good position to score a goal with his passes.

Hiori narrowed his eyes as his gaze landed on Isagi who was signaling for him to pass the ball.

This was a practice match.

But Hiori and the others needed to treat it as if it was an actual game where they only have a millisecond to make a crucial but good decision that could make them win or lose.

And based on his observations, Isagi was the only one in a good spot thus he sent the ball flying in his direction in a perfect arch.

As usual, Isagi caught the ball perfectly on his feet and sent the ball swimmingly inside the net.

Damn.

Hiori already saw his direct shot more than once in his life, but it still never ceased to amaze him whenever he saw Isagi perform it on the match.

The ball hitting the net perfectly showed how much he had greatly improved and had the makings of a great striker himself.

He remembered back then on how he had inadvertently thought that he would make Isagi the king of the field and it still lingered at the back of his head.

But Isagi needed to continue to impress him of course. As he had promised himself that his passes were to those he deemed worthy enough to receive it and he had no qualms in discarding a player who couldn’t display that skill that would enthrall him.

And that included Isagi of course.

He couldn’t refute the other’s remarks about him being a sadist as he had possessed that streak after all.

It was sleeping inside of him, and he guessed that he had to be thankful for Isagi for awakening his selfish, sadistic streak in soccer that day.

If Isagi didn’t challenge him and demanded him to continue playing and creating a chemical reaction with him, he would’ve quit midway and accepted a lukewarm fate of being a sore loser in the sport itself.

“What a good game Hiori.” Isagi’s voice cut off his wandering thoughts and focused his attention on his approaching figure towards him while holding a bottle of water.

“PxG is our next opponent, so I must give my best even in just practice.” Hiori replied as he wiped off the sweat from his forehead with the back of his sleeve.

They were given a ten-minute break before they resumed back on their practice match.

Hiori was drinking on his water when Isagi’s next words caught his attention and stopped midway.

“How about a bet Hiori?” Isagi looked at him with a gleam in his eyes that sent his nerves skyrocketing inside of him.

“About what exactly?” Hiori arched a brow at him and looked back at him with a relaxed expression on his face and completely masked the havoc that the other was wreaking inside his heart.

“Whoever wins this practice match gets to be the other’s slave for a week.” Isagi replied with a crooked grin on his lips.

“By winning ya say, who scores the last goal between the two us in this practice match?” Hiori asked curiously.

“Yeah. Who scores the last goal on the net is the winner.” Isagi confirmed.

“Are ya really sure ya wanna do this Isagi-kun?” Hiori asked with a sardonic smile playing on his lips.

“I wouldn’t suggest it if I’m not.” He retorted.

“Then prepare yourself to be my slave for a week because I can see yer defeat miles away from here.” Hiori shot back with a cheerful yet ruthless smile on his face.

Isagi grinned widely back at him. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

The whistling sound bounced off the area and signaled that their ten-minute break was over.

Their practice match resumed.

For the next few moments, everyone was intense and focused on each other’s movements in the field especially towards Hiori’s direction who successfully stole the ball from the other player and possessed it right under his heel.

Of course, Isagi had seen this already. With the bet between the two of them on the line, he was already prepared for Hiori’s tricks under his sleeve. He wouldn’t be misled for the second time around.

Nevertheless, the thing about growing was that sometimes one needed to catch up.

And Hiori...

…

Was already catching up to him in a good but frightening way that sent his nerves skyrocketing in his veins.

‘Fuck. A fake volley?!’ Isagi thought belatedly as his eyes grew wide with a sudden realization.

No.

Hiori used his heel to volley the ball over his head from back to the front which can only mean...

‘A donkey kick!’ Isagi thought in awe as he watched the ball go perfectly inside the net when Hiori performed the kick itself.

Shit.

He knew that Hiori displayed an outstanding skill and performance during their match against the Ubers back then, but he didn’t know that he possessed a hidden but deadly skill like this.

Isagi could only blink at the scene owlishly before Hiori’s cutting voice brought him back to the present.

“Guess what Isagi-kun?” Hiori cooed mockingly. “I won. I hope you prepared yourself to be my slave for a week.” He added as his eyes gleamed darkly which sent a scintillating sensation on Isagi’s nerves. Isagi could only look up and resisted the urge to pin him against the wall and wiped off that damn smirk on his face.

It's gonna be a hell week for him.

[clownculler]

hey, you guys know anything about Lancer?

I like mechs. I have been incredibly autistic about mechs at multiple points in my life. and through the ancient, well guarded, and infallible technique know as the "vibe check", I have determined that each and every Homestuck character is the appropriate type of autistic to also obsess over mechs. No, seriously, I want you to tell me you cannot picture them all grease monkeying about in a mech bay.

"but Io", you might say, "@vexwerewolf is already writing that shit."

to which I say, "yeah, duh, go check it out." but also, watch me tell you what mechs all the kids run, because to my knowledge they haven't done that, or at least haven't told anyone.

John/June: Our friend Egbert strikes me as someone who picked their mech based on what struck them at the time. That is to say, they pilot a Vlad and stumbled ass-backwards into the licenses to construct a terrifyingly effective melee-cqb build. Mostly IPSN with some bits and bobs from SSC and Harrison.

Rose: Mostly Metalmark and Mourning Cloak. She has, on multiple occasions, had to bite back frustration at having lied in the perfect sniper nest or ambush spot, waiting for the perfect moment to strike, only for John and Jade to steamroll the target while she's still out of range.

Dave: This one's a bit tricky. I figure Dave runs either a Raleigh, covering June's back in what is probably a pretty sick display, or a Nelson, running down anyone who tries to flee the Harleybert onslaught. I could also potentially see him forcing a Lich into a more combative role with core bonuses and mods, but that hinges on him getting mixed up with Horus in a way the other alpha kids aren't likely to (although I can totally see Bro pulling that kinda shit.)

Jade: The Monarch/Sherman/Barbarossa artillery platform run by Jade Harley is the stuff of legend, often talked of in excited tones from core worlds to the long rim. Imma be honest I'm not too clear on the build details. Hell, there's a chance she runs some Pegasus stuff too. Point is: she lays waste to the surrounding environs and often plays a role in breaking enemy formations.

Jane: Minotaur, oddly enough. She's been questioned on why she doesn't run a Lancaster and she replies that its lame as hell. She might be as close to objectively wrong as is possible in this assessment, but I respect her opinion. Roxy has a tendency to cackle like a madwoman when an enemy's movement gets fucked in this way.

Jake: Almost definitely a Raleigh but with the worst optimization you have ever seen. Imagine if John's strategy of "that looks cool" didn't have the safety net of narrative contrivance. This man has the most useless licenses he could get his hands on. He has no synergies, he has no combat loop. Okay that's not quite true; he actually is sitting on a god-tier build, but refuses to swap away from Raleigh.

Roxy: A couple possibilities. One is that she is a pure hacker, using Goblin and Minotaur to wreak havoc on the enemy positioning. Perhaps some Kobold if she feels like being more involved in the action. The other possibility is that she does what I do, and stacks a shit ton of nanocomposite mods on a Pegasus platform.

Dirk: Oh you already know. Get your MGRR memes and textmashes ready because this motherfucker is running Atlas. Also flicker field projector, because what else could a flash-step possibly be. Same goes for Dave btw, I just forgot to mention it. He will never admit the extent of his disappointment that Jane will not pilot the horse mech.

I'll probably come back for the trolls.

[sabraeal]

Greatest Little Show on Earth

[Read on AO3]

It’s quiet for the back lot, even for this time of night. Just the hum of the floodlight and the chirp of crickets out in the grass, hopping to safety as they wade the last few feet up to the blacktop. Shirayuki squints across it, searching trailer stoops and picnic tables, but there’s not a hint of clowns laughing too loud, or jugglers bobbling illicit alcohol containers out of view. Not a single acrobat out there either, finding new ways to endanger themselves on everyday equipment. For once, she has to admit, she’s disappointed.

“Well, would you look at that?” Obi huffs, pausing at the edge of the pavement. With a shift and a shimmy, he hikes Ryuu’s floppy limbs over his shoulders, adjusting them like a scarf.  “Little bit of food poisoning and everyone’s got the wind taken out of their sails.”

“Food poisoning can be very serious.” There’s vials in the lab’s freezer labeled things like E. coli 2012 Munich McDonalds and S. enterica 2008 Atlanta Taco Bell; she’d laughed the first time she’d seen them, until Garrack reminded her that they didn’t store strains without a body count. “And besides, it was only Concessions that went out to sushi last night. That shouldn’t be keeping everyone else from, er…”

Having too good a time insinuates that she’s never stayed up past her bedtime, being too loud too late at night while her friends stealthily passed around beer liberated from someone’s garage fridge. Which she hadn’t; high school Shirayuki had been early to bed, early to rise— up until college, where she discovered just what havoc a chemistry final could wreak on a healthy sleep schedule. But Obi doesn’t need to know that. Not when she still hasn’t figured out just when he gets his shut eye around here.

“They’re a bunch of teenagers. They’re idiots.” He chuckles to himself, reaching up to give Ryuu’s shaggy mop a good ruffle. “Present company excluded. Can’t get them to believe that if they kiss every clown playing spin the bottle, we’ll have to send them home with mono, but tell them that they need to wash their hands real good or they’ll get the runs, and suddenly they think they can get it through their eyeballs”

It’s impossible to smother her giggle, but she at least keeps the volume low enough that it doesn’t echo across the whole lot. “That sounds like experience.”

“It is,” he promises, the shadows clinging onto a corner of his smirk. “A couple summers of this and you’ll know all you need to know about the adolescent psyche. Which mostly boils down to: a kid by themselves is a genius, but a group of them has less sense than a clown car.”

Two years ago, the Shirayuki that had stepped fresh off the bus from Tanbarun with nothing but the lab’s address in her pocket would have demured, would have said something like, I don’t know if that’s very fair, or that’s because they’re just learning how to take care of themselves.

The Shirayuki that’s spent those same two years in Garrack Gazelt’s lab says, “I think that’s just people.”

“Makes sense then, doesn’t it?” It’s funny how he can slant a smile at her, and suddenly it’s a secret, shared between the two of them. “Since they’re just people too.”

“Yeah.” A little more wild, in her experience, and stubborn for sure, but well— Yuzuri’s a bit wild too, hanging from silks and rings, spiraling from dizzying heights with only confidence and skill as her net. And Shidan’s just as stubborn, keeping the whole tour on schedule even through floods and fatigue and teenage angst. “I guess that’s true.”

Obi’s boots scuff up to a stoop, and he reaches up to ruffle once again, with a little more purpose this time. “Okay, bucko, this is the last stop. Time for all good geniuses to get to bed.”

Ryuu blinks up blearily, cheek still pressed into Obi’s shoulder. He might be fifteen, just a hair shy of a growth spurt that will make him look like an adult, but right now he reminds her of nothing more than a toddler, roused by the transfer from car to crib.

“Obi?” he creaks. “Where…?”

“Your trailer. You sacked out while we were wrapping up the till, champ. Hey, Kirito.” Obi slams hard on the door. “Can you come help a guy out, here?”

The aluminum wibbles open, and a grumpy thatch of blond glares out. “Bro, what’s your—? Oh, damn, you find him under a counter or something?”

“He sat down while we were closing out the register,” Shirayuki explains, swallowing down a giggle as Ryuu flops between Obi and Kirito, boneless. “I guess it’s been a long day.”

Ryuu’s not a big kid, but there’s a lot more of him now than when they arrived. Kirito stumbles, trying to make sense out of the mess of limbs. “I’ll say. You sure he’s okay?”

“Oh, yeah, definitely.” She reaches out, smoothing a curl off his forehead. “He’d fall asleep under his desk at the lab too. We put a little curtain up in his cube for privacy.”

Kirito huffs, slinging one of Ryuu’s arms around his neck. “Hard to believe this guy does real work.”

“I’m the youngest college graduate of my university,” Ryuu slurs out, helpful. “Shirayuki. Thank you.”

A laugh bubbles up behind her smile. “Oh, it’s no problem, Ryuu. It was really Obi who got you all the way back. You know I’m happy to—“

“No, not that.” He’s still half asleep, but his gaze fixes on her through the net of his eyelashes, as intense as when he’s awake. “For coming here with me. I’m having a lot of fun.”

There’s a prickle at the corners of her eyes, but it would embarrass him if she teared up now. The last things teenagers like is a sappy adult. “It’s my pleasure, Ryuu. You deserve it.”

He nods, all formal and stiff, the way he had the first time she’d spoken to him, asking if he could show her how to use the flow cytometer. With a lift of his chin, he turns to Kirito and announces, “I would like to be unconscious now.”

The kid sighs, patting him on the shoulder. “Yeah, yeah. You and me both.”

The door slams behind them, rattling in it frame, and then it’s just her and Obi underneath the floodlights, shadows so long they merge. She squints across the pavement, just barely able to pick out the big top at the horizon, nearly lost in the trees.

“Well,” she says, her voice suddenly too loud in the silence. “Even with all the food poisoning and last minute shifts, it turned out to be a pretty nice night.”

Obi hums, hands sliding into the pockets of his jeans. Black jeans, which she’s never seen before, too nice to be worn while fixing the generator or unclogging the shower’s piping. The shirt’s new to her too, a nice red crew neck with three buttons down the front, two of them undone and the sleeves rolled up. No holes, either, which is a first for his wardrobe, and she nearly says something, nearly says, do you only dress up for front house or is tonight special? But—

But he just slants a look down at her— another secret, just between them— and says, “You know, it doesn’t have to end.”

  Even the big top’s dark this late at night , all hunkered down like some mythical beast in its hundred year slumber. But when Obi holds open the flap, moonlight illuminating the packed earth beyond, and she just…walks right in. Blows right past every klaxon blaring in her mind and slips into its silky maw, waiting at he ties the flap back.

“I don’t think we’re supposed to be here.” It’s impossible to speak louder than a whisper with the cavernous darkness of the ring pressing in around her. “The kids have already cleaned up, and they’re not supposed to be here after it’s been checked.”

“It’s fine.” Obi brushes past her, waving a lazy hand. “The kids can’t come back here, sure, but we’re grown adults. We’ve signed waivers and everything.”

Her shoes pull up short at the shadow’s edge. “That’s not really filling me with confidence, Obi.”

He sighs— not impatient or frustrated, like she’s used to, a goad used to hurry her along, but…fond. Like he’d been waiting for the protest, like that had been part of the script he’d written for the evening, and she’s merely playing her role.

“C’mon, Doc,” he says, little more than a rumble in the darkness. “I’ll make sure you don’t break a toe.”

“Shouldn’t we turn on a light or some—oh.” His fingers wrap around her wrist, so long they overlap on the other side, and she just…loses her train of thought. “Okay.”

“Don’t worry, your eyes adjust.” She’s heard that sort of promise before— don’t worry, I have you and it’ll be easier once you just do it— but they never account for how clumsy she is on her own too feet, how unsure, but—

But Obi keeps it, guiding her slowly through the stands and over the barrier of the ring, his hands burning where they settle on her hips. Even though she can barely see, she somehow always knows where he is in front of her, or how he wants her to move with little more than a breath and a touch. And when he finally guides her onto a stacked set of mats, he’s right. With the vents on the tent and the opened flaps, the moonlight illuminates the ring as bright as the spots.

“Here,” he says, pressing something cold into her hands. A bottle. “Refreshment.”

It only takes one sip for her to choke. “Is this alcohol?”

They don’t sell those at concessions— with a bunch of minors running it, that would be asking for trouble— and yet beneath all the fruit juice, this is definitely, definitely booze.

“It’s mine. Stashed them at the ticket counter.” His teeth flash white as he settles next to her. “Figured the kids would pack up early tonight, and then you’d finally get a look at the place when it’s not all dolled up.”

“Is that…?” She takes another sip, longer this time, and unlike the beers Garrack used to press on her at lab happy hour, it’s not bitter. “…Is that important?”

“A right of passage,” he informs her, shoulder bumping hers. Her stomach flutters in surprise. “Gotta see what it’s like when the lights aren’t on and crowd’s all gone. That’s how you know if you really love it.”

“O-oh.” It is nice like this, all quiet, like the caves she used to play in back home. “So, someone took you out too? Earlier in the tour, or…?”

“No, I-- did Yuzuri never tell you?” He laughs, surprised. “Usually she can’t keep her mouth shut.”

All at once, the roost of butterflies in her stomach wither. “Oh, are you two—? I though she— that Suzu—“

He coughs around his drink. “Yuzuri and me? No, no. God, no. I meant that I was an aerialist. Back when I first came here.”

Shirayuki blinks. “And then they made you back lot manager? That’s a strange career trajectory.”

“Nah, nah.” His hand waves in front of him, the motion strangely staccato in the half-light. “When I was in the camp.”

“In the camp?” Tonight’s the first time she’s ever seen him out of his band tee and cargo pants, and now he’s asking her to imagine spangly leotards and stirrup pants? Impossible. “You came here?”

“Yeah, when I was a kid.” His shoulders jump, a casual shrug that misses it mark. “Court order, actually.”

Yuzuri always jokes that if Obi’s breathing, he’s talking, but it’s never like— like this. About himself. Then again, Shirayuki can understand why he might keep a checkered history close to his chest. Especially at a camp for kids. “Court…order?”

“Ah, yeah yeah. Fell into a rough crowd when I was in middle school or whatever. Got caught.” He grins at that, like he’s proud of it. “Judge thought twelve was a little young for a kid to get a record, so she pulled some strings. Guess she knew the guy running this— not Shidan, he was just an instructor then— and she must have thought that if my idle hands were kept busy on the trapeze, I wouldn’t have any left for trouble.”

“Ah…” Another sip steadies her, gives her the courage to ask, “Did it work?”

“Just learned to get up to a different sort of trouble.” He winks, too charming, and she has no trouble at all imagining what shape that sort took. No wonder Yuzuri always rolled her eyes when he hung around, telling him, buzz off and root around in some other flower, bumblebutt. “But I came here every summer until the scholarship money dried up.”

There’s a story in that, she knows, but he’s already sharing so much of himself she can’t bring herself to pry. Not about that, at least. “Is that why you came back? Because you miss it?”

“Sure isn’t because I love unclogging trailer toilets, that’s for sure.” He hooks his hands behind his head, leaning back. “They did right by me. The old boss, and Shidan too. I like to come back when I can. Now that I work for my uncle— ah, not my real uncle, it’s complicated— I’ve got summers I can spend on this. Time to help some other kids learn a different type of trouble.”

“Oh?” It’s a struggle to keep her mouth straight as she asks, “Like Ryuu?”

That gets him, a nice thunderstorm of a laugh that rolls over her from head to toe. “I think he’ll be finding a different sort of trouble all right. Can’t see mine interesting him.”

“Probably not,” she agrees, a giggle bubbling around the edges of it. “So you still do it though? I mean the acrobat stuff, not the, um, trouble.”

He snorts. “I don’t get up to as much trouble as I used to, I can tell you that much, Doc. But the circus tricks…” His eyes skim over the tent. “Here, hold this.”

His bottle settles into her hands, cold against her palms, and he doesn’t so much stand up as unfurl. “Looks like the kids were playing with the lyra before they cleared out. Have it down at practice height and everything.”

With a squint, she sees it’s true, the silvery rim of the aerial hoop dangling at his shoulder. Still too tall for her, despite all of Yuzuri’s off-hours coaching, but Obi hooks his knees up and over it it with speed that speaks of muscle memory, of a trick done a hundred times until it was as natural as breathing. With the subtlest swing, he pulls himself up, perching on the ring like the hanging birds her nanna liked to keep in the sunroom, spinning every time the wind blew. Birdchimes, she’d called them, though they’d never made a sound.

“Wow,” she breathes. “You’re just as good at the kids!”

“I did try to do it professionally,” he explains, fitting his feet to the bottom of the hoop and pushing himself up. “Got into Cirque du Soliel even.”

“Really?”

“Hah, don’t get excited,” he teases, wrapping himself around the top of the ring now. “I only lasted six months.”

“Oh?” Her mouth curves as she stands, handing him his bottle. “Trouble?”

“Worse.” He takes a long drag on the drink before he hands it back, grin bright in the moonlight. “French Canadians. I like weird, but those guys are another level. Quit and never looked back.”

Her only point of reference is Mitsuhide, who maybe likes spreadsheets more than a normal person should, and is so nice he makes her look like selfish. Which might be it’s own kind of weird, but…

“So what about you, Doc?” He slides down, putting his back to one side and kicking up a leg on the other for balance. Man in the Moon, Yuzuri would call it. “Don’t often see academics running away to the circus.”

“Ah…” Her mouth takes a rueful tilt. “Yeah, I think if we leave, it’s mostly just to open bakeries.”

His eyes are obscured by the shadow of his brow, but she does see those hike up, furrowing in confusion. “Really? I’d like to see that.”

It’s nice it’s so dark; he can’t possibly see her blush. “Maybe if we ever go some place with an over that doesn’t, er…”

“Make everything charcoal briquettes?”

Shirayuki grimaces. “Yeah, that. I do make a mean cookie.”

“Ah, Doc, I don’t think you could make anything mean. But you didn’t answer the question.” He leans out of the ring, head tipped back, until his mouth is level with hers. “What kind of trouble are you looking for?”

That’s the thing about Obi, it’s all simple with him; talking, working, just being with him feels natural.  There’s no complications, no worries, just the frisson of him so close to her it feels like lightning just under her skin. It’s nothing to lean it, to cup the back of his head and press her lips to his, catching his gasp on her tongue.

At least, it feels that way, until he topples right out of the ring.

“Oh!” Her lips still tingle when she pressed her hand to them, electric. “I’m sorry, I just thought that— that there was a vibe? That— ah, I must have been—“

“No, no!” Her scrambles to his feet, all limbs. “That vibe is very correct. You should definitely keep feeling that vibe. I just…won’t fall like an idiot this time.”

He reaches out to her, his smile no longer confident but hopeful, the rough calluses of his fingers catching behind her elbows.

“I think I messed up,” she blurts out, and oh, it’s terrible to watch his face fall like that, to watch him falter. “No, I mean. Not this. It’s just…”

He blinks. “Shirayuki?”

Ah, it would have been nice for him to say her name at any other point than this. “I sort of…already have…? I mean, I was sort of seeing someone before I came here.”

Those eyebrows hike again. “Sort of?”

“Ah…” She grimaces. “He might…sort of…be the reason I’m here. Partly.”

He takes in a deep breath, and guides her to the mats. “All right, Doc,” he says, sitting down beside her. She nearly squeaks in relief when he wraps an arm around her. “Keep talking.”

[rgbyshipper101]

Animaniacs Reboot Season 3 Episode 1 Review

I’m rewatching the episodes for accuracy but only for the Warners. I don’t know P&TB that well to accurately judge them so I’m not worried about them.

I’m gonna do a play by play then an actual review.

The theme song has the contract say 10/13 episodes. Funny. The variable verse is “excessive spit takey” said by Yakko.

Previously On retells the last episode of season 2 with Yakko doing spit takes. Then the cup does a Yakko spit take. Lol

Banana computer! The fact that it’s off-center bothers me.

Yakko, Wakko, and Dot

I’m gonna combine parts 1 and 2 of the Warners.

Ralph seems to enjoy being in charge of the studio. Good for him. He deserves it. He is on a no meat diet, though? And he has to watch meat movies? Sadistic, much, Flora Dora? That’s probably why he goes insane later when the Warners steal his sandwich.

Meatball Man is probably a play on Batman/Marvel/DC movies. Pasta la pizza, gravy is pretty clever. Although how come he is the only one that’s actually meat (I think)? The sausages are humans or aliens dressed as meat.

Nora ends up quitting and becomes the security guard. How is she writing on her laptop? Touchscreen? I do like how both Flora Dora and Nora’s cats have the same hairstyle as them. “Fynd Wrk” is a play on “Indeed” or “LinkedIn”.

So without a guard the Warners run wild and havoc on the studio. Legit. I like the transition where Scratchy falls and it shows him sliding onto his glasses.

“The new Ralph!” lol Also is this referencing when Plotz was a security guard in A Christmas Plotz? That doesn’t look like 4:30am it looks like 4:30pm.

I feel like they’re making Wakko less intuitive than usual. I’m gonna check throughout the season.

Yakko could’ve at least caught his brother. Also, ya’ll see the wall? 87 days? Plus the 8 near the door is 95. Aaaaawww! I was thinking it’s their age. But it would have to be 2024/2025 then.

Dot says “Boys” One of her old lines. Also Yakko says “kids” instead of “sibs.” This saddens me. I know he’s supposed to be oldest and the one that takes care of them but he’s still a kid and their brother. He wouldn’t think of himself that much older mentally.

I feel bad. I know they’re referencing movies but I don’t know a lot of them. There’s gonna be a lot references I don’t know about. Oh boy…

I’m disappointed in myself for not realizing they were in the SWAT uniforms. Although I think it would’ve been better if they tricked Nora.

I know the Warners don’t show affection verbally but…this still seemed off. I can’t see them being desperate to get out of it. They’re very close so they wouldn’t need to be scared of Nora. They could’ve outsmarted her or did reverse psychology. I get what they were going for, but I just can’t see it.

I do like “yoinky yoinky yoinky.” Are they not allowed to say any of their old sayings?

Gookie!

So Ralph gets competent being himself and eating whatever he wants? Who would’ve thought that being not who you are makes you less productive. (Sarcasm)

Batman and Wonder Woman.

I do find it interesting how he was able to beat the Warners here. This is one of the instances where something in the beginning of the episode plays again later - the movie lines playing again is the one for this episode. Although the ending differs. …Would he…have tried to eat Dot?

So the roles switch. Poor Ralph was sad but it’s nice to see Nora have a heart. I like how they had the net ready for him.

Well this episode served its purpose. Making everything back to normal since there’s a new season.

I did like part 1 better. More Warner antic are my forte. Stop hurting the Warners. They do happy accidents like finding solutions without meaning to - not the adversary. It’s cute how they lean on each other. It’s nice to see the subtle affection - see? They are nice with each other. It’s their actions. Each Warner had a time to shine (kinda). The transitions were good. Tried to look at animation. I think it was improved. The details are nice.

Pinky and The Brain

The animation threw me off for Pinky’s song but it was not bad. I do like the Pinky blogger series. It shows the plot in a different way than normal. Nice detail with the camera not being steady since Pinky is holding it. Pinky was sweet at the end. There’s a lot of Brinky moments this season. Or friendship moments.

Warners (both) - 7.7

P&TB - 8.5

Avg - 8.1

These were my initial ratings but it might change.

Wasn’t a bad start but could be better. I feel like the Warners were a little complacent than normal. Their personalities…I’ll save that for my season review.

[is-your-name-anronpa-cause-dang]

HEADCANNON

Tsumugi refers to herself as a perfect Junko copy but I don’t think that’s correct. Tsumugi isn’t a perfect copy of Junko, because she uses her(Junkos) plan, her idea and ‘mind’ as a failsafe but I don’t think junko would use failsafes, shed like the excitement of her plan falling to bits without a net underneath her, cause if there was one it wouldn’t be fun.

Original Enoshima didn’t try to escape nor stop her execution once the decision to vote hope and kill her, -trial wise- had been put in motion, and in the anime, in her purgatory/ little cinema hell that she watches with miss chisa after she dies, the following conversation goes as:

Junko: aww! The story’s already over?

Yukizome: No.

Enoshima: Hm?

Chisa: Bizarre as it sounds, our Hope is just getting warmed up.

Enoshima: Lame.

Enoshima: Huh. As if I even care.

Enoshima: Get over yourself, slut. We're dead!

 (English dub) (future arc episode 12)

I don’t think she cared for continuing her story after she died either. She said something about it being new and not expected,(in a good way) in the future arc season when the next mastermind was revealed.(this is also cinema) She didn’t appear to want to keep her title as a sort of weekly mastermind.

‘but her alter ego carries on her wrath in sdr2!’ I hear you cry. Well even if she claimed she made that by herself, she wasn’t chihiro fujisaki, a programmer, and had to get some sort of help to do so. So there can definitely be some very small differences when she built another her. She could have changed her ideology after her death, but not be able to update her alter ego. also, she’s completely unpredictable and does things by random, (let me remind you that she killed her sister on the bases of boredom) so she could probably have separate ideas to her AI. This means she can plausibly disagree with her alter ego self and this can still sort of make sense

Back to my first point- Tsumugi kept fighting in trial 6/ chapter 6 because it would end danganronpa, and in turn, popularity. (i don’t believe junko would care to make a legacy so long and dragged out all for 53+ seasons, she wanted to die asap and it would be ‘boring’ if there was season after season after season. Please remember she got bored with herself easily)(<-) Also, Junko DID want to bring despair onto its viewers/ survivors of The Tragedy which is the whole reason trigger happy havoc’s game aired. And, in its most roundabout and basic form, that was what kiibo was for, so kudos to tsumugi I guess but it did kind of backfire into hope because she decided to give the walking Twitch-Chat-Plays-Danganronpa sentience so her plan backfired horrifically so no dice. (so ^this WAS my original statement but on further thought I actually think junko does/ would be ok with this, but she would be incredibly bored with her playing mastermind every time. She also wouldn’t like Tsumugis narrative with her playing Junko or the ‘enoshima pops up from the dead afton style in a despairing fashion’ with zero context.[I add this at the bottom instead of the top instead of where it originally was because it got too long.)

ALSO!!! Tsumugi copied the secret entrance idea. Also also she uses timers/deadlines (ha) to fall back on if things fail. Yes, while Junko raised her hand over Sakura to kill someone if things didn’t pan out, she would not directly murder like Tsumugi did. this does raise a concern: does Tsumugi and Junko the 53rd count as the same person? Does Tsumugis actions mean Junko did it too? Or are they separate if they aren’t in cosplay? I’d assume no because it’s just her cosplay and all, but if it is in costume? What happens??

Think about it this way: Tsumugi could only kill and slip up as a junko copycat because she knew about the hidden door, therefore she’s the mastermind, and junko is the mastermind, so she’s junko, but OG Junko cannot kill in the circumstances that were posed, So they aren’t the same person? So there’s two masterminds? That doesn’t make sense, their the same person. And now we’re back at square one. However she’s the same person because as far as I know, tsumugi doesn’t canonly have D.I.D so technically, every cosplay personality is already in her mind from her will. But theres still very clear differences between them. Even so, I still think I have something here

To simplify it, I’ve made four routes I can go down to explain this fuckery:

Tsumugi and Junko are different and it’s a multiple personality situation (if we assume this based off of the little evidence, there would be a whole other seperate kerfuffle but also junko remembers everything tsumugi does so memories are linked, and the outfit changes, and that’s not a very common thing to make people change a character. Oh yeah alSO EVERY OTHER CHARACTER THAT IS CHANGED INTO , YEP THAT WOULD ALSO MAYBE BE A CHARACTER So let’s not go here. There are easier ways to lose your mind)

It’s entirely Junko. Tsumugi is Junkos fake identity. (Does not match up with what has been previously stated.)

It’s entirely Shirogane. Tsumugi and Junko53 are the same people. There isn’t a seperate Junko entity, it’s just Tsumugis will. (The most sense, maybe this was what ‘copycat criminal’ meant?)

Tsumugi and Junko are different people. But not in D.I.D . They’re just two separate entities. (No.)

Conclusion? I lost my damn mind going down this rabbit hole.

The conclusion you are actually interested in: I think Tsumugi is infact not a perfect junko copy, but she’s a danganronpa employee and a fairly convincing copycat with unlimited funding and a spaceship

[harringtonstilinski]

You’ll Always Be My Hero - Chapter 82 ; Superposition

Author: @harringtonstilinski Characters: Stiles Stilinski x Emma Thomas (OC) Word Count: 6,758 Warnings: angst, A/N: Hi, friends! 82 Chapters down, 18 to go!! Emma is going to be with Scott (platonically) until Chapter 90. If you like this chapter, please do not hesitate to reblog and give some feedback, whether it be in the reblogs, comments, or my inbox. As always, read at your own risk and enjoy 😊

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You know what’s boring? Doing homework with no music in the background.

You know what’s even more boring? Watching two werewolves practice lacrosse.

I watched as Scott scooped up a ball, then turned to face behind him.

“Did you feel that?” Scott asked.

“Are you asking the werewolf or the banshee?” I asked, taking a small break from homework to look over the plays of the next lacrosse game.

“Werewolf.”

“Then no.”

“Feel what?” Liam asked, twisting his stick in his hands.

Scott turned back to face Liam. “Thought I heard something.” He looked behind him again for a moment before turning back around. “Forget it. Alright, let’s keep going,” he said before tossing the ball to Liam… who easily caught it.

“Or we could call it,” Liam said.

“We gotta work on your back shots,” Scott countered.

“His back shots?” I asked, incredulously.

“Yeah, why?” Liam asked.

“Liam, they suck,” Scott said.

“What are you talking about?” Liam and I asked.

“Your back shots… which suck. You should know this, Em. You’re the Assistant Coach.”

“Uhm…” I said. “Do your back shot, Liam. Make the Alpha happy.”

Liam scooped up a ball and shot it over his back, the ball landing in the net… about six different times.

“Are you sure it’s not your back shots that need work, Scotty?” I asked.

He looked at me like he was confused. “I must’ve been thinking about someone else.”

I nodded my head, lips pulled into a knot. “Yeah, probably.”

“Maybe someone else who should be Captain?” Liam said, tossing a ball to Scott.

“We’ll make it,” the Alpha said.

The lights in the stadium turned off, sending me into a small happy dance from my place in the grass.

“Well, guess we have to go now,” Liam said.

“Thank the good Lord above! My ass hurts from sitting for so long,” I sassed, standing up.

Scott looked at me, a small grin on his face… which made me groan in protest. 

“No, we don’t,” Scott said.

“Oh, Scotty, no!” I whined, stomping my foot once.

He flashed his Alpha Reds, which made Liam’s Beta Golds shine… where’s my Banshee Greens, you ask? Right here.

They continued to play for a couple of more hours before I called it a night. “Alright, my two favorite werewolves, I’m gonna call it a night. Bobby’s coming over for dinner… or did come over for dinner. Please, for all that is good and awesome in this world, don’t stay here too late.”

Scott chuckled. “Alright, Em. We promise.”

“One more hour. Tops,” Liam said.

“Good! I don’t wanna have to bench you two because you can’t stay awake in class,” I said, giving them a chuckle. “I’ll see you later.”

As I was walking back through the halls, I found my uncle… bitching at the kids who stayed super late for their extra credit assignment.

“Your teenage years are not the time for academic achievement,” Coach said.

“Yes, they are,” Mason said.

“That’s a lie sold to you by the government,” Coach countered, finger pointed at Mason. “Go find some girls, get into trouble. Live a little.”

I rushed over at the word girls. “Uh, Coach, they’re gay.”

Coach looked at me. “Even better,” he said, looking back at Mason and Corey. “Go gays! Now get out of my face! I don’t get paid to lock up after you losers.”

“Yes, you do,” Mason said.

“Get out of here! Go wreak some havoc like the other kids,” Coach said, closing the doors and turning around to face me with his fist in the air… before putting it down to point at me. “And you! You know how upset your mother is that you didn’t show up for dinner?” “You knew I was here with Scott and Liam. They’re out at the field practicing right now,” I said, pointing behind me in whatever direction.

“What were you doing out there?”

“Being Assistant Coach and looking over the plays for the next game… and providing.. moral support?”

He nodded a couple times. “My office. Tomorrow morning. With breakfast.”

“Waffles?”

He looked like he was thinking about it. “Sure.” He leaned forward, placing a kiss to my forehead. “Now, go home and get some sleep.”

“Alright. Love you, Bobby!”

“Yeah, yeah. Love you, too.”

~~~

Well, my idea of getting in my Jeep to drive away from this school and going home sounded like a great idea… until I got a call from Corey, telling me to get back inside the school immediately.

I walked in the doors with Scott and Liam, who found me and told me that something was happening to Mason. As soon as we rounded the corner in the library, said boy was about to bash our heads in with a fire extinguisher. 

“Mason, it’s us!” I yelled.

“They were here. The Ghost Riders,” Mason said, putting his object down.

I looked over at Corey and pulled him into a bone crushing hug before pulling away to look at Mason. 

“Here? Just now?” Scott asked.

“I thought they left when the storm left,” Liam said.

“I guess not, because two of them were right up there,” Mason said, pointing to a couple of spots where the Ghost Riders were spotted.

“What were they doing?” Scott asked.

“We didn’t see when they came in. We only saw them when we turned invisible.”

I looked at Corey right as Liam started speaking. “You brought him into this?”

“He was trying to protect me,” Mason said, getting in between Corey, myself and Liam.

Corey looked at me. “They didn’t seem to care about us. They-- they walked right by us.”

“You’re very lucky. What happened after?” I asked, crossing my arms.

We all looked between Corey and Mason, waiting for an explanation. 

“Uh-- then they just jumped down and left,” Mason said.

Scott looked up at the second story, my eyes stayed on my cousin and his boyfriend to make sure they were alright.

“That’s it?” Liam asked.

Mason and Corey looked at each other. “Yeah,” Corey said. 

“They didn’t take someone?” I asked.

“There was nobody else in here?” Scott added, coming up to stand behind me.

Mason and Corey looked at each other again, then back at us. “No. It-- It was just us.”

~~~

After finally making it home, I showered and dried my hair, dressed for bed and crawled in. I was fast asleep in seconds, a new personal record.

It wasn’t until about 1:30 in the morning when I woke up to the strangest sound ever. A male’s voice asking, “Do you see him?”

A loud thud sounded after that, causing me to sit straight up in my bed. I heard a train outside my window along with the wheels screeching on the tracks. I looked around, seeing an orange yellow light shining through my windows, the noise itself causing me a little discomfort.

It wasn’t until I saw my mom walking through my bedroom door all frantic a few moments later. 

“Emma, what’s wrong?” she asked.

“Did you hear that?” I asked.

“I heard you screaming.”

“No,” I said, swallowing hard. “It-- it-- it was the sound… of a train… passing through my room.”

She walked over to my bed and sat on the edge of it. “Oh, sweetheart, you were having a nightmare.”

“No, I wasn’t,” I said, as she reached over and grabbed my hand. “It wasn’t a--”

“Well, there wasn’t a train and we haven’t had an earthquake, so--,” Mom said, sighing. “It must’ve been a bad dream.” She stood up and pushed some of my hair back, placing a kiss on my hairline. “Go back to sleep, honey. I’ll see you in the morning.” With that, she turned and walked out of my room, taking one last look at me before closing my door.

“But I wasn’t asleep,” I muttered to myself.

I sighed and pushed my hair back with my hands before placing my hands back on my bed. I looked at the picture that was sitting on my dresser in a beautiful frame. 

I tilted my head to the side, eyebrows scrunched together as I got up out of bed and walked over to my dresser. I picked up the frame and looked down at the picture.

“What?” I mumbled. What confused me about the picture was my arm was in the air with my hand hanging there, as well. I was kissing the air for no apparent reason.

I decided to call Scott to see what he thought about the photo since we all got one printed.

“Em?” Scott greeted.

“Are you looking at the same picture I am?” I said.

“Yeah, the one of all of us?”

“That’s the one. Look at it. Why am I holding onto nothing?”

Scott went silent. “I don’t know.”

“I sense an investigation in our midst.”

~~~

I ended up going back to sleep after having a small talk with Scott. So, I did what any sensible Senior would do; I got up and got ready for my day then headed off to school. I met Lydia in the parking lot, as she had just gotten out of her car as I had parked mine. We walked in the school together and I noticed that everyone seemed to be doing just fine.

I saw a girl dressed how I would and a boy dressed in a plaid shirt, and oddly enough, looking at the plaid made me feel all warm and safe inside, and I couldn’t tell you why.

I told Lydia that I would meet her after class as I stood by a locker. I tried to open it, but I couldn’t get the combination right for some reason and I was starting to grow frustrated. I turned around and leaned against the lockers, wondering why the locker number 1075 felt so much like home to me.

When I finally realized that I needed to be on the practice field for the lacrosse team, I rushed over out of the locker hall and straight to the field, spotting Liam doing the same.

“That is Captain material,” Coach said, standing next to Scott… who wasn’t playing.

“You’re late,” Coach and Scott said.

I looked between them and Liam, finally setting my sights on Liam and crossing my arms. “Yeah, Dunbar. You’re late. Which makes you not Captain material.”

“You’re not out of the clear yet, missy,” Coach said.

“I know, I’m sorry,” I said, shame filling my voice as I uncrossed my arms and dropped my head.

“Liam is Captain material,” Scott said. He started to say something else about Liam, but Coach decided that he’d heard enough and blew his whistle.

“Let’s go. Gather around, listen up,” Coach said. “Thanks to McCall’s selfish desire to focus on his grades and his graduation, we are leaderless. You want to be a champion, you wanna be a hero? Now’s your shot.”

“Alright, boys. Line up,” I said, clapping my hands. They all just stood there. “Assistant Coach, let’s go!” At that, they all lined up in two rows… facing Liam… who was at the end.

“Emma, take charge,” Coach said.

I sighed, rolled my eyes and looked out at our players. “Alright, all you wannabe Captains, I wanna see you tear each other apart.” I put the whistle between my teeth, saying, “Let’s go!” before blowing the whistle to start the play.

Liam ran and dodged a player before being crowbarred to the ground. 

“Definitely not Captain material there, Dumb-bar,” Coach said.

“Dunbar,” I corrected, leaning over to Coach.

“That’s what I said.”

“No, it’s not-- you know what, nevermind.”

Liam turned his head to face us. “He said Dumb-bar.”

“And your mouth just bought you equipment duty,” Coach said, kneeling to get closer to Liam.

Scott and I looked at each other like is he for real.

Liam took off his helmet and ran off the field. 

“Bobby, Bobby, Bobby,” I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose.

After practice was over, Scott and I sat in the locker room, waiting for Liam to return with the equipment the other players left out. Liam set the bags down against the wall near Coach’s office, turning to look at me and Scott, who was tying up his boots.

“I blew it, didn’t I?” Liam asked.

Scott sat up and sighed, resting his elbows on his knees. “You blew it off.”

“You’d have to be trying in order to blow it,” I said, coping Scott’s movements, but lacing my fingers.

Liam sighed and looked around for a moment. “Maybe someone else can be Captain. With schoolwork and all the other stuff we have to deal with--”

I shifted on the bench to face Liam and Scott more. “Devenford Prep started practice three weeks before us. Riverside two weeks. We’re behind before we even start. Half our team can’t even cradle the ball, let alone score.”

Scott and I stood up, Liam looking directly at Scott.

“Why can’t you stay Captain?” Liam asked Scott.

“I’m graduating. Ya’know, I’m not-- we’re not gonna be here next year,” Scott said, taking a couple steps towards Liam. “Somebody’s gotta step up and fill in the gap. It should be you.”

“Yeah?” Liam asked, then looked at me. “Well, Coach doesn’t want me.”

“Liam,” I said, Gentle Emma working her way out. 

“I don’t know if the team wants me.”

“It’s not up to them! It’s up to you!” I said, taking the few steps towards the werewolves. Aggressive Emma is out now. “You have to want this… because they’re gonna keep coming at you. They’re gonna keep knocking you down. And you have to get back up. You have to show them that you can get back up.” I looked over at Scott then back at Liam. “Leaders don’t run.”

At the sound of clapping, we all turned our attention to the source. Coach.

“Now, that’s what I’m talking about, McCall,” Coach said.

“But Coach, that was all Emma, not me,” Scott said.

“Doesn’t matter. That’s exactly the intensity this team needs. And you,” Coach said, looking from Scott to Liam. “I’m looking forward to crushing that little adorable baby face of yours.” Chuckling, he turned around and went back into his office, closing the door behind him.

Liam turned and faced me and Scott, looking at me like I had some sort of explanation. 

I sighed, “It's a curse being related to that man sometimes. I gotta get to class.” I hugged each werewolf before walking out of the locker room and straight to my class, which had Lydia and Malia in it.

Lydia and I walked in at the same time, with the same looks on our faces. We sat down in our respective seats, Mrs. Fleming getting started right away.

“I’m impressed… with most of you,” Mrs. Fleming said, standing from her desk. “Really speaks to your study habits and your commitment to your own education. Everyone else, see me for extra help.” She placed Malia’s paper down on her desk, a red D- on the front. 

I noticed Malia gripping the desk, claws out. I reached over and tapped Lydia on the arm after getting my paper back from Mrs. Fleming. “Lyds,” I whispered. “Malia’s claws are out.”

Malia turned to look at Mrs. Fleming, Lydia taking action. “Mrs. Fleming, uhm--”

“I already told you, Lydia, as well as Emma, I don’t give extra credit on alternate equations based on your own theoretical findings,” Mrs. Fleming said.

“Well, okay then,” Lydia said, turning back to face the front. “Claws. Malia. Malia, claws.”

She loosened her grip on the desk, her claws put away, and I let out the breath I wasn’t aware I was holding.

For some reason, I got this overwhelming feeling about the locker I tried to open this morning. So, I grabbed my bag, put my paper into it and stood up. “Uhm, Mrs. Fleming--”

“Yes, Emma. You can come get today’s assignment and go visit your dad,” she said.

I opened and closed my mouth like a fish out of water before nodding and walking up to her desk, grabbing said assignment and walking out into the hallway. I spotted Scott standing at the locker, just looking at it.

“Got a weird feeling about it, too?” I asked.

He nodded. “Yeah.” He put his hand on it, trying to get a feel for it, but ended up taking his hand off and started to walk away.

I, on the other hand, put my own hand on it, seeing if my Banshee senses would tingle… and to my surprise, a little something. 

“Remember the ring,” that same male voice said. I took my hand off the locker and reached under my shirt, pulling out said ring. 

Scott walked back over. “What’s that? How long have you had that?”

“It’s Claudia’s. She gave it to me at the start of the year. Said it meant so much to her that she wanted me to have it,” I said. “But this guy's voice just told me to remember the ring.”

“But what’s so special about it?”

I sighed and looked down at the ring. “It was her engagement ring.”

“Looks more like a promise ring to me.”

I had a flashback moment to the point where I received this ring. I couldn’t put a face to the person that slid it onto my finger, but all I knew in that moment as I squeezed the ring in my hand was that I loved this ring with everything that I had. “I gotta get back to class. I’ll catch you later.”

Scott nodded and headed off in the direction of his class.

I was walking down the hallway towards my classroom when I stopped dead in my tracks, seeing an older gentleman with a newspaper standing at the end of the hall. I looked around the hallway and behind me before looking back at the gentleman and walking more towards him.

“Excuse me, who are you?” I asked him. He didn’t answer, just stayed looking at his newspaper. “What are you doing at this school? Are you a teacher? Part of the front office faculty? Hall monitor that never left?”

Still no answer. I sighed and slapped my hand against my leg, frustrated. I looked back at the gentleman, ready to give him a piece of my mind when he looked up from his newspaper. He opened his mouth like he was gonna say something, but all that came out was the same sounds that I heard last night; a train rattling and the wheels screeching on the tracks.

I covered my ears at the sound, squeezing my eyes shut tightly. I opened them again, looking all around me, gasping in the air that I had held during the sounds.

“Holy shit,” I whispered to myself.

~~~

I decided that I was going to check myself out instead of just walking out of school today. When I got to the front office, however, I saw my cousin and his boyfriend standing at the front desk.

“Werewolf stuff,” I heard Mason say.

I quickly made my way over to Mason, Corey and Mrs. Martin. “What are you talking about?” I asked, leaning against the desk next to Corey.

Mrs. Martin sighed and took off her glasses. “I thought I made it clear that Beacon Hills High School is a dedicated safe place. I had to convince 23 students that what they saw in the library last semester was a large bear and the fangs on Scott McCall were the result of acute Teenage Hallucination Syndrome.”

“What is Teenage Hallucination Syndrome?” Corey asked. Bless this innocent werechameleon.

“I have no idea,” Mrs. Martin said.

“But we think someone could be missing,” Mason said. “And they could be in danger.”

“Well, I can assure you that nobody has reported a student missing,” she said, looking at the absentee list. “And all absentees are accounted for.” She started guiding them out of the office. “Gentlemen, I appreciate your concern and I thank you for your vigilance. Remember, safe space. Now, go back to class.”

“We don’t have class,” Mason said.

I facepalmed at his response.

“Then go back to something. Anything.” 

She closed the door and walked over to me. “Emma, what can I do for you?”

“I need to check myself out… if that’s at all possible,” I said.

“You’re not 18 yet,” she said.

I groaned. “Mrs. Martin, come on. You’ve known me since like 7th grade. Have I ever been called out of class? Have I ever not come to school sick? I literally have perfect attendance.”

She leveled me with a look.

“Okay, fine, maybe that’s down the drain, but look. I just need a day. I need to see my dad or my mom or my boy--” I stopped my words, wanting to say that I had a boyfriend… when I didn’t. “Forget it. I’ll just stay here and drown in boredom. I know almost all the material anyway.”

I walked out of the office and down the hall a little, seeing the same guy from earlier with his newspaper walking down the hall. I decided to follow him, basically chasing after him. I ran out of the double doors at the end of the hall, finding myself in the same spot I was in a couple of nights ago when Dad and Sheriff were here because of the body that got called in. I looked around, confused as to how I actually got here, but fear ended up taking over for a moment. 

“You know me. Oh, thank God, you know me,” that same male voice said.

I looked around everywhere, the wind kicking the leaves up.

“Do you see him?”

I looked at the tree beside me before I found my arms up in the air as if they were wrapped around someone’s neck before they moved down to where their arms would be. I also felt hands on my cheeks, so loving.

“Do you see him? Alright, come on, come on!”

I felt myself being dragged away, running down the sidewalk.

“This way. Whoa, whoa, whoa, stop! This way, this way.”

I turned to look behind me, hearing horses whinnying. “Where are they?” I yelled.

“Everywhere! Will you forget me?”

I turned to look off the side. “I won’t-- I won’t!” I ran out into the street, not thinking.

“Emma, look out!” 

I was pulled back from getting hit by a car… at my own fault. I looked back at who my savior was, hoping it was the male I kept hearing, but alas. It wasn’t. It was Malia.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

I took a deep breath, closing my eyes for a moment. “I’m fine.”

I watched the last bit of her nod after I opened my eyes. 

“What were you doing?” she asked.

Tears lined my eyes as I looked at her. “Trying to remember.” I shook my head and walked around her, going back inside the school.

What I didn’t expect to see was Scott standing at that locker trying to look into the vents with the flashlight on his phone.

“Scotty? What’cha doing?” I asked, clasping my hands behind my back.

“Trying to find a way into this locker.”

I hummed. “Have you tried the combination?”

He looked at me as I raised a brow. “No.”

“Do you know it?”

“Do you?”

I looked down in shame. “No.” I picked my head up and watched as he looked around before he grabbed the lock, fully prepared to break the bitch off.

“Ohhhh, good idea,” I said, bringing my hands in front of me and rubbing them together.

“You’re too eager.”

“Look, this is the first normal thing that’s happened in like two days, alright?”

He went back to the lock, starting his pull on it, but before it could actually break, a voice sounded behind us.

“What’cha doing?”

We turned around, seeing the new, good looking teacher, Mr. Douglas. Did I mention that he was good looking?

Scott looked from me back to the locker. “Uh, nothing. Just checking out this locker.” He pulled on it, checking it out… as he stated.

“Is it either of yours?” Douglas asked.

I chuckled. “Ya’know. It’s the funniest thing.”

“You wanna explain it to me?”

My chuckles turned to one of nerves before I sighed. “Not really. About the locker.”

Douglas hummed. “I’m relatively new here, but I’m pretty sure breaking into someone else’s locker is against the rules.”

Scott and I gave nervous chuckles. “We’re not breaking into someone else’s locker.”

“Miss Thomas, what does this look like to you?” Douglas asked.

I smiled at him sweetly… like every other girl at this school. “Like we’re breaking into someone else’s locker.”

“Yeah… uh… I think we’ll go to class now,” Scott said, putting his arm around my shoulders. He started guiding me to the doors at the end of the hall.

“Yeah, probably a good idea,” Douglas agreed.

~~~

During our free period, Scott wanted me to come to Deaton’s with him, so being the good friend that I am, I went with him… since we both have the same thing to talk to him about.

Once we got to the clinic, Scott handed Deaton the piece of blue glass from the magic bullet.

“We keep having these feelings like there’s something missing. Holes in our memories,” Scott said.  “Like this. I took that from a windshield from the Sheriff’s Impound Lot but I can’t remember why I was there.”

“Yeah, I was there, as well, and I can’t figure out why,” I added.

“The subconscious can be a conduit for our memories,” Deaton said. “Dreams and waking dreams can be powerful tools to help us remember.”

I sighed. “Do you think this is all connected? The Ghost Riders, the Wild Hunt, the holes?” 

 “The Wild Hunt are drawn to war and mayhem. I’ve never heard of it doing anything to anyone’s memory.” Deaton handed Scott the medical equipment that the windshield piece was on. “It’s almost like you have a form of Phantom Limb Syndrome.”

Scott looked at me, waiting for me to explain further.

I sighed. “It’s common in war. Amputees can have the sensation of an itch they can’t scratch or a pain that couldn’t possibly be there. The missing limb is so important that the brain acts like it’s still there.”

“So, our subconscious is trying to tell us what’s missing?” Scott asked, looking from me to Deaton.

“It may be,” Deaton said.

“How the hell do we figure out what it’s saying?” I asked, resting my elbows on the table and placing my face in my hands.

“Well, Emma, the easiest way to do that would be to simply go to sleep.”

~~~

After taking Scott back to the school to get his bike, I drove myself home, had dinner with my parents then went upstairs to get ready for bed.

I looked at the picture frame on my nightstand, seeing a strange photo of myself sitting in the frame. What was in the frame was me looking at the air beside me, my arm in the air behind me, smiling. It also seems like I had my head resting against something… or someone.

I shook my head and decided to just crawl into bed, forgoing the reading.

I fell asleep in no time after cuddling with my favorite pillow… which I don’t remember how I got. I couldn’t have been asleep for more than an hour before I got a call from Scott, telling me to meet him in the Preserve.

As quietly as I could, I snuck out of the house, knowing I’ve done this before, but not remembering who with. I got in my Jeep, carefully shutting the door before starting it up and peeling out of the driveway.

Once I got to the Preserve, I started walking towards the spot where I was hearing voices.

“Where’s Emma?” Malia asked.

“Right here,” I said, yawning.

“Hey,” Scott said, walking over to me to give me a flashlight and a hug.

“Hey, Scotty. So, why are we out here in the middle of the night?” I asked, rubbing my arm, not really feeling super safe after my adventures five years ago.

“So, I went to bed at home and I woke up out in the woods,” he explained. “About a mile out. I think there’s a reason why this has happened.” He looked at me. “We’ve been out here before. It was the beginning of Sophomore year  the night before tryouts for First Line. I remember because it was all I could think about.” He started walking out in the woods, arm around my shoulders. 

Don’t get me wrong, I felt safe with Scott, but… not as safe as I should’ve felt.

“I remember,” I said. “I was out here with you.”

“What were you two doing?” Malia asked.

“Looking for a dead body.”

We walked in silence for a second before Lydia said, “That’s morbid.”

“So then, what were we doing out here all alone?” Scott asked, squeezing my shoulders.

“I wish I could help you, but Emma and I were on the outs then, and I didn’t know you,” Lydia said.

“I was still a coyote so I might’ve tried to eat it,” Malia said.

“Deaton said that our subconscious was trying to tell us something,” I said, shaking my head. “But we need you guys to help us figure out what it’s saying.”

“Maybe you were a curious teenager. You heard there was a body,” Lydia suggested.

“But how? I never watched the news. And I didn’t have a police scanner,” Scott said.

“But I did,” I said, looking up at Scott. “Have a police scanner. In my dad’s cruiser. But you came and got me that night after my dad had already left and my mom was home.”

“Scott, your mom works at the hospital. Maybe she got called in and you overheard her?” Malia suggested as well.

Scott stopped walking and turned us around to face the girls. “My mom wasn’t home that night.”

Scott and I looked at each other. “I live five miles from here. You only live on the other side of the Preserve. How did we get here?”

“You drove,” Malia said.

“We didn’t have vehicles yet,” I said.

“You ran.”

“I couldn’t have. I had asthma,” Scott said.

I had a flashback to that night. “I remember you saying my name after I stood up from where we hid for a moment. But I didn’t stand on my own,” I said, turning around with my thinking. “I was pulled up by my arm.” I started walking, everyone else following.

“Yeah, I remember. We were hiding, but they knew that we were there.”

“Scott, maybe you made a ton of noise with your asthmatic breathing,” Malia said.

“How would they know that it was me?” Scott asked.

“I got caught by my dad and Sheriff, who both knew that you were out here with me,” I said.

“Why would the Sheriff and your dad even think that we would be out here?” Scott asked.

“Because like most deaths in this town, it was related to the supernatural,” Lydia said.

“I wasn’t supernatural. I mean, this was the night that I was bitten.” Scott thought back to the night he was bitten. “I wasn’t a werewolf yet. And we weren’t out here alone.” He sighed. “I know this sounds crazy, but I think we had a best friend, and I think he was out here with us that night.”

“It doesn’t sound crazy,” Malia said. “I know that someone chained me up and I think they wanted me to stay human.”

As Malia spoke, I reached into my shirt, grabbing my ring and holding it tight.

“I came to school this morning and I was so sure I was supposed to meet someone,” I said, Lydia nodding.

“I was pretty sure I was supposed to take you to your locker until that someone arrived,” Lydia said.

“But I couldn’t remember who it was supposed to be,” I added, looking down at nothing. I sighed and squeezed my ring harder, but was careful not to break it. “I have been looking for them all damn day. Whoever it is, I think I loved him. No. I know for a fact that I love him. And I think he gave me this,” I said, showing the girls my ring.

We all looked at each other for confirmation before Scott spoke up. “What if we’re all missing the same person?” Scott pulled out the photo I had printed for all of us, showing it to the girls. “And I think that he was in this picture.”

“Scotty, he was in the picture. He was sitting right there. What the hell else would I be kissing? Air?” I sassed. I sighed and looked at the time on my phone. “As much fun as this has been, I gotta get to the diner and pick up a burger for my dad. Mom’s working late at the office… again.”

“Alright, well, be careful,” Scott said.

“Call me if you can think of anything else or if you need me somewhere else, got it?”

Scott nodded before I walked up to Lydia and gave her a hug. I shocked the hell out of myself and Malia by giving her one as well. After saying my goodbyes, I walked back to my Jeep, getting in and heading to the diner to place my dad’s order. 

After receiving his order, I drove straight to the station, to which the front desk officer let me right in… like I’ve done this about a thousand times before, which felt weird, but normal at the same time.

I walked up to my dad’s desk, setting the bag down and placing a hand on the desk and the other on my hip. “Dinner. Take a break from work and eat.”

He chuckled. “You always know exactly what to say to get me to stop working.”

“That’s because I’m your daughter, and you have to do what I say,” I sassed, moving to a leaning seat on the desk.

He opened the bag and smiled at the aroma the burger gave off. “You are my favorite child.”

I chuckled. “Daddy, I’m your only child.”

We both realized what I had said and gave off sad looks.

“Only living child,” I muttered quietly.

“Hey,” Dad said with a mouthful of burger. “That wasn’t your fault. Don’t feel guilty about it.”

“It’s hard not to, Dad,” I said.

My attention was brought to my godmother, Claudia, walking through the station with a bag of her own in hand. 

“Dinner for Sheriff?” I asked.

“Well, what I’m gonna try and get him to eat,” she said, looking at the bag.

“Can I see what’s inside the bag?” I asked, taking quick steps over to her.

“Hey, Emma. Why is there--” Dad said.

“Just a second, Daddy,” I said, digging through the bag. I looked back up at Claudia, an unimpressed look on my face. “A salad? Really?”

“What? He needs to start eating healthier. Once you find your person, you’re gonna do everything in your power to try and help him live a super long and happy life,” she said, before turning around and walking into Sheriff’s office.

I rolled my eyes and walked back to my dad’s desk, reaching in the bag. I motioned to Sheriff’s door, full on sass mode. Dad nodded his head in understanding before I put the burger and fries behind my back and walked into his office.

“Emma, what a nice surprise,” Sheriff said, a smile plastered on his face.

“Well, I wouldn’t be a good goddaughter if I didn’t show my face every once in a while,” I said.

“Anyway,” Claudia said. She placed the salad on his desk and looked at me before looking back at Sheriff. “I had a hunch you probably forgot about dinner.”

Sheriff moved the box a little. “Oh, it’s uh-- What, uh-- what, what is quinoa?”

“It’s quinoa. Quinoa and kale.”

Sheriff removed the fork from its plastic wrapper. “Oh, that’s--that’s…” He opened the top of the plastic box. “Well, uh, you’re--you’re always looking out for me.” 

Claudia looked at me, while putting her hand on his shoulder. “Well, I want you around for a long, long time.”

I watched with amusement as he took a small bite, not really wanting to. I shook my head as he hummed, walking over to his desk and closing the lid. “I present to you, your delicious dinner,” I said, placing the burger and fries on his desk, garnering a laugh from him.

“And this is why you’re my favorite,” he said.

I pretended to be bashful with a little bit of sass added in. “Well, what can I say?”

Sheriff looked at Claudia. “Happy?”

“Always,” she answered.

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand that’s my cue to leave,” I said. “I’ll just be-- yeah.” I walked out of the office and back to my dad’s desk. I went to sit back down when I got a text from Scott, telling me to meet him at the clinic.

“Daddy, I gotta go. Scott needs me at the clinic,” I said, putting my phone in my back pocket.

“Alright, sweetheart. Be safe,” he said.

“Always am.” I leaned down and placed a kiss on his cheek before jetting out of the station.

~~~

Arriving at the clinic, I didn’t know what to expect. All I knew was that when I got there, Lydia was sitting at the table with the windshield piece in front of her hanging by thread and light shining underneath it.

“Anyone care to explain what’s going on?” I asked.

“Well, since you weren’t here, Lydia’s gonna conduct a little experiment for us,” Deaton said.

“Look, I know we’re both Banshee’s, but we’re not lab rats.

Without missing a beat, Lydia said, “I volunteered.”

I looked at her for a moment before chuckling nervously. “Well, nevermind then.”

“Now, she just magically writes down all the answers?” Malia asked.

“It’s not quite that simple,” Deaton said. 

“It never is,” Lydia said, getting more comfortable on the stool.

“In automatic writing, the hand moves outside of any conscious awareness,” Deaton explained. “Now, hopefully the silence, the darkness, and the light will allow you to find a more comfortable, relaxed, trance-like state. Lydia, I want you to stare into the light. And let go of all thought.” Deaton looked from Lydia to us, nodding with his head that we should leave the room and give Lydia the quiet she needs.

I watched as Lydia picked up her pen and clicked it, setting the ball on the paper. She looked at the light and got busy focusing before I saw her pen move just a touch.

“I have to warn you,” Deaton said. “We may not be able to access these memories.”

“Why not?” Scott asked.

“The legend has always been that the Wild Hunt takes people. But if what you’re telling me is right, the truth is much worse. They erase people from reality.” 

After looking at Lydia scribble on the paper, I looked up at Scott, who was already looking down at me. 

“How do we remember someone who has been completely erased from our minds?” I asked.

It was quiet, except for Lydia’s scribbling. 

“Maybe he hasn’t been,” Malia said, nodding towards Lydia.

“Oh, is she okay? Should we stop her?” Scott asked.

Deaton put his arm across me and Scott, but I ducked under his arm, walking towards my Banshee friend.

“Lydia? Lydia? Slow down,” I said, soothingly.

Deaton turned off the light and Lydia dropped her pen, breathing heavily. She was still in her trance-like state.

“Is she okay?” Scott asked, leaning down a little closer to her.

I put a hand on her shoulder. “Lyds?”

From the corner of my eye, I saw Malia pick up the paper Lydia was scribbling on. “What does mischief mean?”

“Why does that ring a bell?” I asked no one in particular.

“That’s not what she wrote,” Scott said, after seeing the paper. “Em, come look at this.”

I rounded the table and saw the word that Lydia had scribbled. Warmth immediately fled my body, and I grabbed at my ring again. I’ve been doing this a lot lately.

Lydia gasped and looked up at us. “What the hell is a Stiles?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N 2: hi, friends! HAPPY PRIDE MONTH!!! let me know what you thought! again, please do not hesitate to reblog and give some feedback, whether it be in the reblogs, comments, or my inbox.

~~~

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~~~

*Please don’t post my writing anywhere else without my consent. The author of this work will always and forever be @harringtonstilinski.

All characters, story lines, and plot aside from Emma and her storyline & plot, are all of the work of Jeff Davis. Our home slice Emma was made up all by me. As well we her parents and their storyline throughout the series.

*These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited.

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Posted on June 29, 2022

[lukehapper28]

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At New Vista, substance abuse treatment is not a one-size-fits-all approach. Instead, it's tailored to meet the unique needs and circumstances of each individual. Through personalized treatment plans, individuals receive targeted interventions aimed at addressing the root causes of their addiction and fostering sustainable recovery.

The Role of Therapy in Addiction Treatment

Therapy plays a central role in addiction treatment, helping individuals explore the underlying issues driving their addictive behaviors. New Vista offers a range of therapeutic modalities, including cognitive-behavioral therapy (CBT), dialectical behavior therapy (DBT), and group therapy, among others. These modalities provide individuals with the tools and insights needed to navigate cravings, manage stress, and cultivate healthier coping mechanisms.

Support Beyond Treatment: Aftercare Services

Recovery from addiction is a lifelong journey, and ongoing support is essential for maintaining sobriety and preventing relapse. New Vista's aftercare services offer individuals the support and guidance needed as they transition back to their everyday lives. From outpatient counseling to peer support groups, these services provide a safety net for individuals navigating the challenges of post-treatment life.

Breaking the Stigma: Raising Awareness

In addition to providing treatment services, New Vista is committed to breaking the stigma surrounding addiction and promoting awareness within the community. Through educational initiatives, advocacy efforts, and community outreach, they strive to foster understanding, compassion, and support for individuals affected by addiction.

Conclusion

In conclusion, addiction treatment in Lexington, KY, offered by New Vista, provides a lifeline for individuals struggling with substance abuse. Through their comprehensive programs, personalized approach, and unwavering commitment to recovery, they empower individuals to reclaim their lives and build a brighter future free from the grip of addiction. Remember, seeking help is not a sign of weakness but a courageous step towards healing and renewal. If you or someone you know is battling addiction, don't hesitate to reach out for support. With the right treatment and support system, recovery is possible, and a fulfilling life awaits beyond addiction's grasp.

[newvista857]

Understanding Addiction Treatment in Lexington, KY

In the realm of addiction treatment, Lexington, KY stands out as a beacon of hope for individuals struggling with substance abuse. With its range of comprehensive programs and dedicated professionals, this city offers a path towards recovery and renewal. At the forefront of this effort is New Vista, a leading organization committed to addressing addiction issues and providing effective solutions.

What is Addiction?                                            

Before delving into the specifics of addiction treatment, it's crucial to understand what addiction entails. Addiction is a complex condition characterized by compulsive drug seeking and use despite harmful consequences. It affects the brain's structure and function, leading to profound changes in behavior and judgment.

The Importance of Seeking Treatment

For individuals grappling with addiction, seeking treatment is a pivotal step towards reclaiming their lives. Substance abuse can wreak havoc on physical health, mental well-being, and relationships. By enrolling in a structured treatment program, individuals gain access to the support, resources, and guidance needed to overcome addiction's grip.

Comprehensive Addiction Treatment in Lexington, KY

New Vista offers comprehensive addiction treatment services in Lexington, KY, catering to individuals with diverse needs and backgrounds. From residential programs to outpatient services, their offerings are designed to address the multifaceted aspects of addiction and facilitate lasting recovery.

Residential Treatment: A Sanctuary for Healing

For many individuals battling addiction, residential treatment provides a supportive environment conducive to healing and transformation. New Vista's residential treatment program offers round-the-clock care, ensuring individuals receive the attention and support they need at every stage of their recovery journey.

Substance Abuse Treatment Tailored to Your Needs

At New Vista, substance abuse treatment is not a one-size-fits-all approach. Instead, it's tailored to meet the unique needs and circumstances of each individual. Through personalized treatment plans, individuals receive targeted interventions aimed at addressing the root causes of their addiction and fostering sustainable recovery.

The Role of Therapy in Addiction Treatment

Therapy plays a central role in addiction treatment, helping individuals explore the underlying issues driving their addictive behaviors. New Vista offers a range of therapeutic modalities, including cognitive-behavioral therapy (CBT), dialectical behavior therapy (DBT), and group therapy, among others. These modalities provide individuals with the tools and insights needed to navigate cravings, manage stress, and cultivate healthier coping mechanisms.

Support Beyond Treatment: Aftercare Services

Recovery from addiction is a lifelong journey, and ongoing support is essential for maintaining sobriety and preventing relapse. New Vista's aftercare services offer individuals the support and guidance needed as they transition back to their everyday lives. From outpatient counseling to peer support groups, these services provide a safety net for individuals navigating the challenges of post-treatment life.

Breaking the Stigma: Raising Awareness

In addition to providing treatment services, New Vista is committed to breaking the stigma surrounding addiction and promoting awareness within the community. Through educational initiatives, advocacy efforts, and community outreach, they strive to foster understanding, compassion, and support for individuals affected by addiction.

Conclusion

In conclusion, addiction treatment in Lexington, KY, offered by New Vista, provides a lifeline for individuals struggling with substance abuse. Through their comprehensive programs, personalized approach, and unwavering commitment to recovery, they empower individuals to reclaim their lives and build a brighter future free from the grip of addiction.

Remember, seeking help is not a sign of weakness but a courageous step towards healing and renewal. If you or someone you know is battling addiction, don't hesitate to reach out for support. With the right treatment and support system, recovery is possible, and a fulfilling life awaits beyond addiction's grasp.

[atlanticexterminating]

PROTECT YOUR HAMPDEN HOME THERE IS A NEED FOR A TERMITE CONTROL SERVICE IN HAMPDEN

The old village of Hampden has beautiful homes and scenery. But for worms, quiet danger looms just below the surface. Through these pests, the structural integrity of your own home can be severely compromised, thus necessitating expensive repairs. At Atlantic Extermination, we understand how important termite prevention is to the safety of your Hampden home. Let’s explore the unseen combination of mosquitoes and the importance of hiring experts for prevention and control.

Recognising the Danger: Termites  Control and Treatment in Hampden

Wood, paper, and cardboard are the various cellulose-primarily based items that termites relentlessly consume. Termites are a major risk to each residential and industrial homes in Hampden, wherein wood systems are commonplace. These pests are usually undetectable until big harm has been performed. They operate in a silent way.

What Indicates a Termite Infestation?

Your domestic's basis has mud tubes. Termite wings that were discarded near doors and window sills Wood with a hole sound remaining windows or doorways tightly apparent tunnels in timber homes

The Value of Hampden Termite Control and Treatment: Don't Wait Until It's Too Late

Early Termite Infestation Detection and Prevention: Preventing primary damage to your home calls for early termite infestation detection. Comprehensive inspections and proactive preventative measures to check for signs of termite interest are part of Atlantic Destroyer’s specialist termite management offer.

Individual Treatment Plan: Since any mosquito infestation is mosquito related, there is a special plan for effective mosquito removal.

To thoroughly get rid of termites from your Hampden domestic, our group of experts at Atlantic Exterminating uses current techniques and environmentally friendly treatments.

Safeguard Your Investment: Keeping your house loose from termite damage is vital as it's certainly one of your largest investments. By spending cash on expert termite remedy offerings, you may defend your private home's price and capability for resale in addition to maintaining its structural integrity.

The Procedure for Hampden Termite Treatment and Control

Inspection: To determine the quantity of the infestation and locate possible entrance points, we behavior an intensive inspection of your own home as the first step in our termite control procedure.

Treatment Plan: We develop a unique treatment strategy based on our research to address your specific termite infestation. This may include barrier treatments, net systems, or community treatments tailored to the unique needs of your home, as well as the size of the infestation

Functionality: Because our knowledgeable staff is so passionate about the element, they create a selection of treatments, ensuring complete termite eradication from your Hampden residence. 

Inspection and Maintenance: After treatment, we inspect your property for signs of termite play and offer simple maintenance to eliminate fateful pests. Our policy is to provide you and your family with long-term peace of mind and security for your property.

Termite Control Costs in Hampden

The size of your own home, the extent of the infestation, and the chosen remedy plan are a number of the variables that affect the fee of termite control offerings in Hampden. 

To suit into your budget, Atlantic Exterminating provides low charges and flexible price alternatives. Our venture is to offer top rate termite manipulate offerings at affordable prices so that you might also shield your house without going over finances.

Despite their little size, termites have the tremendous capacity to cause havoc, particularly in Hampden's wooden systems. Being stealthy intruders, they have got the ability to noticeably harm houses earlier than every body ever notices them. But you can protect your Hampden house from this unseen threat with the aid of the usage of Atlantic Exterminating's preventive termite treatment services.

Then take preventive measures before it’s too late to keep the mosquitoes out of their Hampden habitat. Schedule a consultation with Atlantic Exterminating to learn how our team of knowledgeable professionals can help protect your home, your finances, and your peace of mind.

Call us :-  (413) 747-7828

Email at :- atlcpest@gmail.com

Address :-  66 Mountainview St, Ludlow, MA 01056, United States

[shrutim12]

Deciphering the Psychology Behind Impulse Spending: Insights into Your Money Mindset

Ever found yourself swiping your card for that irresistible pair of shoes or impulsively adding items to your online cart? You're not alone. Understanding the psychology behind impulse buying can shed light on our spending habits and help us make more informed decisions about our finances.

The Urge to Splurge: What drives us to make impulsive purchases? It's often a combination of factors, including emotional triggers, social influence, and our own individual quirks. Psychologists have long studied the phenomenon, revealing insights into why we sometimes throw caution to the wind and indulge in spontaneous buying sprees.

Also Read: Who is Abhay Bhutada?

The Power of Emotions: Emotions play a significant role in our spending habits. When we're feeling stressed, anxious, or even elated, we may seek solace or reward in material possessions. Advertisers and marketers are well aware of this, leveraging emotional appeals to lure consumers into making impulsive purchases. As Warren Buffett once said, "The most important quality for an investor is temperament, not intellect." Similarly, our emotional state can greatly influence our financial decisions.

Social Influence: Peer pressure and societal norms also play a part in driving impulse buying. We may feel compelled to keep up with trends or maintain a certain image among our peers, leading us to make purchases we hadn't planned for. This herd mentality can be particularly strong in today's age of social media, where we're constantly bombarded with images of others showcasing their latest acquisitions.

Also Read: Unveiling the Top Chartered Accountants in India and Their Staggering Net Worth

Instant Gratification vs. Long-Term Goals: Impulse buying is often fueled by the desire for instant gratification. We want to experience the thrill of acquiring something new and exciting immediately, without considering the long-term consequences. However, as wise investors like Buffett remind us, it's essential to focus on our long-term financial goals rather than succumbing to fleeting impulses.

Tips for Curbing Impulse Spending: While indulging in a spontaneous purchase every now and then can be harmless, frequent impulse buying can wreak havoc on our finances. Here are some tips to help curb the urge to splurge:

Create a budget and stick to it.

Practice mindfulness when shopping, pausing to evaluate whether you truly need the item.

Avoid shopping when you're feeling emotional or vulnerable.

Unsubscribe from promotional emails and unsubscribe from temptation.

Set financial goals and remind yourself of them regularly.

Consider the opportunity cost of your purchases—what else could you be doing with that money?

Also Read: Meet Abhay Bhutada: The Winner Of Lokmat Maharashtrian Of The Year 2024

Conclusion: Understanding the psychology behind impulse buying can empower us to take control of our finances and make more mindful spending decisions. By recognizing the emotional and social factors that influence our purchasing behavior, we can work towards aligning our spending habits with our long-term financial goals. As Warren Buffett famously said, "Price is what you pay. Value is what you get." So, let's strive to find value in our purchases rather than succumbing to impulsive temptations. With awareness and discipline, we can navigate the complex landscape of consumerism and build a more secure financial future for ourselves.

[thefootballobserver]

April 9-11 European Roundup: Match Reviews

It was a week full of surprises, with underdogs exceeding expectations.

Wow. Nearly every match this week was filled with drama and reminded everyone of the beauty of continental competitions. From wonder goals to disappointing performances, here’s a brief review of a chunk of the matches played. I’ve only managed to watch these highlights, so these reviews do not represent the full matches but key moments.

Arsenal 2-2 Bayern Munich: Penalty Controversy Steals the Attention

A Harry Kane goal against Arsenal on his return to North London was written in the stars.

Of course, as a Spurs fan, it was a delight to see Harry Kane score against the Gunners, making him the highest goalscorer against Arsenal at the Emirates. As he said in his post-match interview, Arsenal tend to concede penalties to Kane, with him scoring his 15th goal against them - and 8 of them being penalties. Maybe it’s not a good decision to let the striker of your biggest rivals be the top scorer at you on your ground, yeah?

Besides me fawning over Harry for a bit, the game was good. Saka opened the scoring with a beautiful finish thanks to some pretty poor defending from Davies, who struggled against Arsenal’s leading man (and picked up a yellow, meaning he misses their next meeting). Unsurprisingly, Arsenal played on the front foot. At the same time, Bayern largely looked to counter, with Bayern’s right winger Sané causing havoc on Arsenal’s left side, and Kiwior looked like a major defensive weakness that night. But it wouldn’t be Kiwior but Gabriel, who’s arguably been better than Saliba this season, who loses the ball, resulting in former Arsenal player Gnarby equalising for the visitors.

Usually, with a leakproof defence in the league, Sané again caused trouble as he glided through it, and Saliba conceded a penalty through a stuck-out leg. Raya dived about ten business days before Kane even moved, resulting in Kane waiting and slotting it away instead of his usual “I’m going to launch this bad boy into the net as hard as possible,” silencing the Emirates as Bayern played without away fans.

Trossard, who was subbed on Martinelli (I was surprised he didn’t start if I’m honest), would go on to equal for the home side with a sweet strike. Still, ultimately, the game ended in a 2-2 draw - a much better result for Bayern than Arsenal, who should have taken advantage of Bayern, given this is one of the weakest teams they’ve displayed in a long, long time.

Of course, the game had to end in controversy as Saka tried to draw a foul from Neuer in the last minute instead of shooting at an open goal. I think the criticisms have gotten out of hand, but I agree that it was a poor decision by Saka and Neuer, who knew that he wouldn’t get the ball and stopped moving his leg. Saka’s leg didn’t look in a particularly natural position, but camera angles make it a difficult call. I read an opinion that Arsenal likely tries to draw fouls to take advantage of set pieces, which I think is a good point. However, in the world of VAR, they need to get it out of their system when they’re in the box. Ultimately, what has happened happened, and both sides need to let go of it as an exciting game is teed up at the Allianz Arena.

My MOTMs: Odegaard (ARS); Kane (FCB)

Real Madrid 3-3 Man City: Wonder Goals Star in 6-Goal Thriller

Ruben Dias scored an unfortunate goal and didn’t have the best of times against Vinicius and Rodrygo.

Bar the four incredible goals scored, the real news to come out of the game was Pep pronouncing “vomit” in quite a zesty manner when asked about Kevin de Bruyne’s absence from the starting lineup. Even his stomach is against him playing in big UCL nights, I’m afraid (I still love that man).

Before the clock could even hit a minute, Tchouaméni got carded for a foul on Grealish - which, if I’m honest, was entirely unnecessary - and now misses the second leg. Minutes later, Silva scored a beautiful free kick. Some may argue Lunin should have done better, but let’s be honest: you, him, the players, the managers, the Bernabeu and the neighbour’s dog weren’t expecting that. Real Madrid then responded with two rapid goals in the 12th and 14th minute, with Dias conceding an own goal and Rodrygo scoring, both from taking advantage of City’s relatively slow back line. The game slowed down after that, and City were sloppy at best.

They massively improved in the second half, though, and managed to turn the 2-1 scoreline in their favour, with Foden (it just had to be him) scoring from range perfectly into the top left corner, making it impossible for Lunin to make the save. Gvardiol then one-upped it with an even better goal on his right foot, his first goal for City since his summer transfer. This goal sparked a lot of humorous Twitter conversation, with City fans saying that Walker will be shooting from 40 yards out constantly and Liverpool fans saying that they don’t even want to think about Robertson shooting like that on his left - let alone right foot. Gvardiol hasn’t been the 70m signing most have expected, but his upturn of form lately has been promising.

Three unforgettable goals weren’t enough, and Valverde scored an even better strike to level the game at 3-3. For all the hype of Real closing the Bernabeu roof (which one commented that it looked like an air fryer, which I’m afraid I have to agree) and wearing all white, it was an excellent game for the neutral, but not so much for the Madridistas, who may have the 4-0 trashing at the Etihad in mind…

Oh, and of course, Haaland ghosted. Whether or not he served as a distraction for the centre-backs or just failed to get involved is not my fight to fight.

My MOTMs: Vinicius Jr (RMA); Gvardiol (MCI)

Atletico Madrid 2-1 Dortmund: The Metropolitano Still Stands Strong

What can I say? Atletico did what it always does.

So, I’m not an avid watcher of Atletico, and I’m even less of a Bundesliga person. Thanks to time zones, I don’t watch European games live either, so I wasn’t precisely tuned into this match as much as I should, but it was still exciting.

Atletico should have had more than a one-goal advantage but failed to capitalise, notably when Lino should have scored in the 71st minute. This is especially true given Dortmund’s inconsistent form this season. However, their UCL form should be applauded as they escaped the “Group of Death” relatively more straightforwardly than the other three teams. The home side stunned Dortmund early in the game, with De Paul capitalising on a Kobel-Maatsen mistake to score in the 4th minute. Although Dortmund had the ball, all the chances came from Atletico, who…well, Atletico-ed with a back five and looked to counter, as is the Diego Simeone way.

The home side would deservedly double to lead through Lino to round off the first half. Dortmund finally grew as the game went on and did manage to snatch a goal back through Haller to keep Dortmund in the second tie. It's less eye-catching than the previous night's matches, but the second leg should be fun to watch.

My MOTMs: Griezmann (ATM); Haller (BVB)

PSG 2-3 Barcelona: Xavi’s Super Subs Give Barca a One-Goal Advantage

What’s up with big stars and poor UCL nights? Mbappe ghosts as PSG loses at home.

PSG ultras had a lot to say and do before the match, with them launching fireworks at the hotel Barcelona were staying at 4 am, chanting “p*ta Barca” (f*ck Barca) to the players, as well as “Real Madrid” too. Some bold moves, considering their star man will leave them to Real Madrid for nothing, but PSG ultras have always been questionable. Some Barcelona players, like Ferran Torres and youngest Marc Guiu, were seen recording and laughing, likely at the fans. They would also have the last laugh that night as the current La Liga holders left with a one-goal advantage.

Barcelona started the game much stronger than PSG (they had 0.81 xG, ten shots and one on-target versus 0.33 xG and eight off-target shots) and were rewarded when Raphinha scored in an empty net. They carried this lead to halftime, but PSG was on the front pedal when the second-half whistle blew, looking like an entirely different team. Barcelona couldn’t handle the pressure, and former Barcelona man Dembele scored (and celebrated) and was followed by Vitinha - who’s been having an excellent season for the Ligue 1 giants - only three minutes later. 

However, Xavi’s super substitutions would save the game for Barcelona, as Roberto came off for Pedri, who then produced a wonder assist within a minute with his first touch of the game - and his first touch since his injury in March - to Raphinha, as all the Brazilian had to do was slot it past Donnarumma to level the game. Later, de Jong would come off for Christensen, and this time, he one-upped Pedri and scored thanks to a Gündogan corner with his first touch, which was within a minute of coming on. On his birthday, too!

As a Barcelona fan, I would have been happy with a draw at the Parc des Princes, but to leave with a win really must have been confidence high - even if it’s only a one-goal margin and there’s still all to play for that the Montjuïc Stadium next week. I can’t lie - Dembele scoring and celebrating hurt, but I think Barca fans have overreacted, especially those calling for the Figo treatment. Honestly, I’m just glad he did what he did and left us with some money instead of going on a free next summer.

My MOTMs: Vitinha (PSG); Raphinha (FCB)

Liverpool 0-3 Atalanta: Klopp’s Farewell Party in Tatters

Poor, poor mistakes from the Reds resulted in a completely unexpected scoreline.

My oh my, where do I even start? For starters, I’d like to say that I quite like Klopp. I think it’s a bit of a shame he’s leaving Liverpool, and I hope he leaves the club on a high note. I’m glad they won the EFL Cup, so at least they have something, even if it’s the least noteworthy competition they could win; a cup is a cup (but I am a Spurs fan, so I’m not exactly in a position to judge).

That being said, Liverpool’s defence was sh*t. I’m sorry, but it had to be said. I like Kelleher, and I think he’s been pretty good for Liverpool, given he’s not a starter and has to fill in Alisson's shoes, but man, that first goal was a bummer - although I don’t think that should take away from his other two incredible saves before and after the error - Kelleher did end up conceding two more after that (neither of which the goalkeeper was at fault for, but he did concede). Unfortunately, goalkeepers tend to be remembered for the goals they concede, not the ones they prevent.

Attacking-wise, Liverpool was fine but very much not clinical - although I don’t know if Klopp wished for goals when he started a front three of Gakpo-Nuñez-Elliot. There were a few promising sequences, but Nuñez (absolutely no one is surprised) was wasteful - but he’s not the only culprit.

Atalanta tried to catch Liverpool on the counter - again, to no one’s surprise - and they reaped the awards. Italian striker Scamacca scored two against Liverpool in the 38th and 60th minute, the first taking advantage of Kelleher not reacting nearly fast enough for a preventable goal as it slid under the ‘keeper and the second coming from a cross when (1) Van Dijk really should have closed down De Ketelaere and (2) Scamancca should not have been so open and unmarked.

The third was by Pasalic and was to an inexplicable back pass by Szoboszlai - although Kelleher did block the initial shot by Ederson, it wasn’t enough. The backline wasn’t trying to prevent the two later goals by how they reacted. They were walking back when the Atalanta players really should have been closed down earlier.

A comeback looks unlikely as Liverpool plays away next, although it’s not off the cards. Liverpool have now drawn to an underwhelming United and lost at home to a side that’s 6th on the Serie A table and have lost their two recent games. Their finishing has disappointed them despite having some of the Premier League’s best forwards and playing well in their previous Europa games. This game is a major result for Atalanta and confirms them in the semifinal - though I don’t want to jinx it.

You have quite a lot of work to do if you want that nice farewell party, Jürgen Klopp.

My MOTMs: Gakpo (LIV); Scamacca (ATA)

Leverkusen 2-0 West Ham: So Close Moyes! But Forget It

Moyes-ball almost gets them a draw…until it didn’t.

I’ll be zooming through the next few because I think the results are coming, or I don’t follow the teams too much.

Leverkusen’s 30 shots to West Ham’s one sums it up. Still, West Ham did look like they were going to snatch a point until the German side finally broke the deadlock with seven minutes of regular time remaining through Hofmann, who would also assist Boniface’s goal in stoppage time. Fabianski bailed the team out on multiple occasions, displaying some fantastic saves. On a better or worse day - depending on who you’re asking - Leverkusen easily could have had three to five goals. A two-goal deficit is saveable for West Ham at home, but they’ll need to do better on the counter.

Also, please end Leverkusen’s unbeaten streak. If the streak ends by Moyes ball, it’d be hilarious, and I need one less thing for them to be happy about (I’m just a little salty).

My MOTMs: Fabianski (WHU), Hofmann (B04)

AC Milan 0-1 Roma: What in the World is De Rossi Cooking?

Roma play at home next with a one-goal advantage.

All I can say is that Roma should have fired Mourinho ages ago if De Rossi was willing to take the job before his release (and this isn’t even my Spurs bias talking) because you’re telling me De Rossi has only lost to Inter and Brighton (in a useless game) between then and now? What in the world is he cooking in Rome?

Also, that back-and-forth between Giroud and Lukaku was hilarious. It’s even funnier when the replays show that Lukaku’s making the goalkeeper’s life way harder by standing in front of him and preventing Svilar from catching the ball.

No man of the matches because that’s all the highlights had.

Aston Villa 2-1 Lille: Work to Be Done Next Week

McGinn, with his iconic celebration as he put the Villans two in front.

The game was a perfect McGinn performance from the looks of it. I’ll admit that the second goal looked accidental on Bailey’s part (that slip…was he trying to cross?), but that strike was terrific. Of course, Lille did manage to pull one back, but Martinez also made some stunning saves to keep Villa in the game in the first half. The way he comes off his line with that confidence is impressive.

My MOTMs: McGinn (AVL), Diaketé (LIL)