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uriekukistan · 1 day

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JJK 261 ANALYSIS: What happened, how, why Yuuta made the choice he did, and a discussion of tragedy & major themes of JJK

MAJOR spoilers below the cut so please read at your risk.

i wanted to dissect what happened a bit, and address a few points i saw floating around since the leaks dropped. of course, these are all my interpretations, so feel free to disagree, i just had a lot of thoughts floating around that i wanted to put out for discussion.

I. Gojo was never coming back

first of all, i don't know how you guys expected him to survive bisection. i said this earlier in the day as my justification for why i didn't think gojo was coming back, prior to leaks, and i don't think i can say it any better now.

and this is just my interpretation of reverse curse technique, but if anything, yuuta in this chapter supports my theory. in the scene where he's on shoko's table and arata nitta says that he's used rct to keep the wounds from getting worse, but it might be too late for yuuta to recover. in that case, gojo wasn't coming back from being sliced in half. it's just not possible.

additionally, and this is another thing that i've said for a long time. he says right in episode 6 (i forgot the chapter) that his dream is to reset the jujutsu world raise up a generation of strong students that work together. that is why he became a teacher. this very clearly comes from his relationship with suguru, and it's one of gojo's clearest motivations from the beginning.

the problem is, in order to achieve this, he has to die. so long as satoru gojo is alive, he will have to carry the burden of being the strongest alone. his students won't have to work together, because gojo will just take care of everything. this is already in the works, with how many people have come together to stand against sukuna. if gojo lived and defeated sukuna on his own, this wouldn't have happened, and bringing him back would, again, reduce the need for his students work together.

unfortunately, gojo has been doomed by the narrative from the start, and his primary goal as a character basically requires his death to be realized in its entirety.

II. They're not heroes, they're jujutsu sorcerers.

yeah, i'm stealing megumi's line because it's true. he literally said it twice for a reason, and then yuuta said a repackaged version of it in this chapter ("we're about to fight history's strongest jujutsu sorcerer. if we can win by throwing away our humanity, we shouldn't even be arguing about this").

trust, all the characters are well aware of the ethical issues with taking gojo's body after he's dead, both with what it means for gojo, and with what it means for yuuta. but this isn't a story about heroism, this isn't a story about the power of friendship. if it was, yuuji would have saved junpei all the way back at the beginning of the series. it was pretty clear from the start that this wasn't going to be the typical shounen manga like that.

in fact, expecting it to be is unrealistic. it's unrealistic in real life too, if i'm being so honest. everyone wants to think they'd take the moral high road in this type of situation, but the reality is, when you're fighting tooth and nail against an opponent that is fighting dirty, you have to fight dirty too if you want to win, and i think that's what yuuta is trying to point out in this chapter.

this happens in real life wars which im not gonna get into examples because i dont want to start that kind of discourse, but like...it's so great to be idealistic and hope that virtue will triumph simply because it is virtuous, but i think if you take a look around, you'll realize it's true that good people do not get what they deserve simply because they're good (that's so megumi of me to say...). or if you think of it like a board game, if a player is cheating, it is infinitely harder to win without cheating yourself.

maybe this is a bit pessimistic of me to say, but you will not win a dirty fight without getting dirty yourself, and i think it's pretty clear that sukuna fights dirty.

additionally, it's shitty to see gojo be weaponized, and i understand that, but it plays into the themes about strength in jjk, which i will get into.

III. This was not an "ass pull."

i don't really have much to say to this. did you think yuuta wouldn't take kenjaku's technique? plus, kenjaku being eaten by rika is probably the only surefire way to ensure that they're dead and won't just hop to another body. i've already said why gojo wouldn't come back, but it makes sense that if yuuta were to copy kenjaku's technique, who else would he body hop into, if not gojo? there's already narrative evidence to support this action, from the guidelines of yuuta's technique, kenjaku's technique, and gojo's technique, to the character of yuuta okkotsu, which i want to do an analysis in a separate post for him, so i won't get into that right now.

idk...to me, all the threads connect, plus i felt like yuuta's return was foreshadowed pretty heavily in 259 & 260, with the mention of yuuta's plan that yuuji couldn't know, and then on the last page of 260, the comparison of sukuna and yuuta, so for me, i always thought that it was not actually gojo, but yuuta at the end of 260.

IV. Themes of JJK: The burden of being "the strongest," or even just strong

even many jjk fans see gojo as "the strongest," and nothing more, doing exactly what the narrative sets up as one of the chief problems of jjk. a lot of gojo's actions are spurred on by the burden he feels from being the strongest modern sorcerer. his entire character is built around this problem of the responsibility and burden that falls on someone who's considered to be "the best" at anything.

in fact, this is also a driving point for geto too, and the conflicts geto and gojo come into with each other, as well as geto's inevitable fall from grace. it all comes from this issue that's at the core of jujutsu society. gojo recognizes that, and, as i mentioned, that is why he became a teacher. so that no young sorcerers will feel the burden of being the strongest alone.

the problem is this is easier said than done. after gojo dies, this burden gets passed down to yuuta, and he feels that immense pressure, which is why he decides to do what he does. he says "haven’t we been pushing the burden of being a monster onto gojo-sensei alone? if gojo-sensei is gone, then who else will be the monster? If no one intends to become one, then I will!" and i think this really powerful evidence of the pressure and burden of being the strongest, and i think the word monster is really important here. the burden pushes people to be something they're not, a shadow of their true self.

it distorts morality, like with geto. it isolates people, like with gojo. it forces people to go to unspeakable lengths to uphold their burden, like with yuuta. it leads people with immense power to doubt themselves, like with megumi. it leads people to feel like a cog in the machine, not a human, like with yuuji.

this is sooo so important and a key theme of jjk, and this chapter in particular, and the driving force behind yuuta's actions.

V. Themes in JJK: Loneliness and Isolation

this one has, in my opinion, a bigger role in the story overall than just in this chapter.

as i mentioned before, gojo is lonely. the only person who could understand him was geto, and he turned away from him, and then died. he seems like a silly guy or whatever, but it's just a mask.

but geto also felt alone and isolated, and that's why he turned away. between gojo and geto, neither of them were able to put share the burden of carrying their strength alone, and it's what kept them apart and made their relationship so tragic.

arguably, and though he would never admit it, sukuna is also lonely, though it's buried deep within him and something he will likely never acknowledge, despite it, and his lack of understanding of love (arguably a symptom of his loneliness), are major reasons for the way he acts.

yuuta, though supported by maki, inumaki, and panda in a way that the previously mentioned characters are not, is still isolated. he alone carries the burden of his strength. he was also alone his whole life after rika died, and then again when he was shipped off to africa, away from his friends (yeah he had miguel, maybe i'm missing something, but i dont see them having that type of relationship.

not only that, but yuuta recognizes gojo's loneliness, and reaches out to tell him not to try to stand by himself once again, and gojo admits that's something he can't do, the reason being his relationship with geto.

even further, yuuji and megumi, the parallel to satosugu, are both deeply lonely, except for when they have each other. i mentioned in this analysis that the reason megumi can't just get up and keep going is because he's alone and has been for over a month. i want to get into this more in my next point.

VI. Where I think (hope) this leads for JJK

a satisfying ending for jjk, in my opinion, would be the resolution to this loneliness and burden of strength issue that has been present throughout the narrative. something like yuuji being able to save megumi and them being able to correct what went wrong with satosugu in their own relationship.

personally would like to see satosugu reach the ending they should have had through the itafushi parallels - let them save each other! but i do know gege said only one of them (the trio + gojo) will die, or only one will live....that was years ago maybe he changed his mind :D

we all want to see yuuji take down sukuna himself, but i think it would be a great resolution to see everyone take down sukuna as a team. no one person is alone, no one person has the burden of the strongest. i know i said this wasn't a "power of friendship" manga, and i stand by that, but i think this would be the perfect ending. yuuta throws his humanity away to do what he did in 261 because he felt like it was the only choice and it was something he alone could do, but yuuji represents unwavering humanity (literally his name), and i think to preserve that, they all need to share that burden. let them realize they need each other.

this is what gojo died for, and this is what he lived for. this is why he became a teacher in the first place- to raise a generation that can be strong together, that can support one another.

VII. "It's poorly written torture porn!" "There's no point if there's no happy ending!" etc

i said this in a separate post but tragedies have existed in literature since the 6th century BCE, 2600 years ago. many of the most popular stories throughout history have been tragedies, for example, orpheus & eurydice, romeo & juliet, even things like the fault in our stars and the titanic movie. here's a quick explanation of what it means for a story to be a tragedy (yeah it's from wikipedia but they want me to pay to access the original source and im not doing that for a jjk analysis)

one of things i like most about this definition is the use of the word "catharsis," which is to say that the expression of strong emotions is a way of bringing about renewal and relief. in literature, it's used to say that with the arousal and following release of negative emotions relieves suppressed emotions for the viewer. im not gonna get too personal with it, but i know i've experienced this with jjk.

additionally all of the aforementioned tragedies, they have a message, no matter how sad they are. orpheus & eurydice inspires perseverance and faith in the gods. even something like titanic has messages about everlasting love that overcomes all boundaries. jjk has its message too, and it's long underway. we just have to wait for it to reach its conclusion.

it's easy to lose sight of the bigger picture when we only get one chapter a week, and the fact that the pain is so dragged out is a bit tiring, i'll admit. but that doesn't mean it's bad. having negative emotions stirred by a story doesn't mean bad writing. i mean, i would hope you feel sad. i would hope you feel angry. i would be concerned if you didn't. but given that jjk is a tragedy, that just indicates good writing. especially these last two chapters, i've felt moved in a way nothing else has done for me in a long time.

as always, these are just my thoughts!!! im happy to hear from anyone what they think :D

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #gojo satoru #sukuna #yuuta okkotsu #jjk leaks #jjk spoilers #jjk 261

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captainjonnitkessler · 2 days

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I think I've identified the reason I get so worked up about anarchism in relation to labor rights and safety in particular.

Three years ago I watched my coworker almost die when a piece of machinery we were moving unsafely fell on him. It missed his head by an inch and snapped his leg in half instead. It took months of recovery and multiple surgeries for him to walk again and he will be disabled for the rest of his life. And it didn't happen because of Capitalism or profit motive or because our evil bosses were forcing us to work unsafely. It happened because he'd done similar things a hundred times before and it had always been fine, and because I didn't know enough to clock just how dangerous what we were doing was, and just because of some plain shitty luck. Mentally it fucked me up for months in ways I didn't recognize until well after the fact.

And the thing is, almost every construction worker can tell you about the time they saw a fatal or near-fatal accident. An apprentice younger than me had a heart attack and was out of work for over a year after shocking himself on a live circuit. The woman who runs our apprenticeship program has a husband who had his arm blown off in an arc flash incident. One of my teachers had a coworker die after getting hung up on a live circuit and he wasn't found until the end of the day.

Construction is one of the single most dangerous industries to work in, and I believe this is why rates of drug and alcohol abuse and suicide are sky-high in the industry. I think many construction workers are low-key traumatized by knowing constantly that they could die or be permanently disabled due to a very simple mistake or oversight. It is simply inherently unsafe when you are working with live electricity, power tools, heights, thousands of pounds of machinery, cranes, etc. And so yes, I do believe that safety protocols and the ability to enforce them are absolutely necessary to preventing a massive amount of death. The number of worker deaths in the US has been slashed by 60% since OSHA was instated.

And so to get online and have someone who has never set foot on a jobsite in their life condescendingly explain to me that actually, we don't need OSHA or the ability to enforce safety standards because in a perfect world everyone will just suddenly start working perfectly safely, and I'm just too stupid or brainwashed to realize that The Real Villain Is Capitalism, and if we just get rid of that it will somehow also get rid of the inherent safety issues involved in the entire construction industry - well it turns out it pisses me off a little bit!

#frankly it's not even the advocating for removing government regulations that really gets me #i can understand where that's coming from even if i disagree #it's the 'pretending that it won't result in a massive amount of preventable death bc admitting that would make your ideology look bad'#fucking acknowledge the consequences of what you're advocating for instead of inventing some alternate reality #where bad things just suddenly stop happening once your ideology takes effect #i mean god at least libertarians will admit that they're prioritizing personal freedom over other people's lives #like. i think that's bad but at least they're fucking honest about it #construction

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painted-bees · 3 days

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You know, if/when Margie ever goes to get assessed for ADHD or such, it'll be over some executive function-related failure on a project that she had hoped would prove to her that she can excel at things so long as she actually 'cares' about them. It'd be something music related for sure--maybe some kind of collaborative videogame music charity thing that some other online music nerds have organized together--I dunno what the indie online musician equivalent of a "zine" is lmfao

Like, it's not even a big prestige thing, and she's not getting any money from it--but it's an exciting project and she gets to compose covers of her favorite viddy game songs and have her music featured alongside other artists she enjoys. But--you know, there's a hard deadline. And there are certain expectations--she want's to make something good and memorable with this.

She gets started on it, and it's going well--well enough for her to be like, "great, I can come back to this later and I'll have it done no problem!" And then she forgets. And then she gets a reminder in her email that submissions are due by the end of the week. The email was sent on Monday, it's Thursday evening. She panics, and tries to put together the rest of the composition that same night, dismayed beyond words that she had put this thing off until literally the last minute. And it's not coming together, she had this great sound and idea in her head, and now it's failing to materialize for her. Her mounting frustration and panic has built up past being a helpful motivator, and is now actively sabotaging her efforts until she can't do anything but cry about it. It's 3 am, the work isn't done, it's isn't going to get done...she utterly failed. At this thing she's good at, that she wanted to do, that she was eager to be a part of.

Materially, she loses nothing by being like "well, I can ask for an extension, and if that's not possible then oh well." It wasn't a paid gig, it wasn't some huge, prestigious feature, there were no awards or accolades on the line, really. But it was supposed to be an easy thing she could do to remind herself that she's perfectly capable at completing things if she just--yanno--cares enoug, puts her mind to it and deems it worth her effort. It was supposed to be easy self-reassurance. And she failed.

and so she's crying in the wee hours of the morning over some small, unremarkable thing that she had chosen to do, for free, in her spare time because she hung all her confidence and self-worth on her ability to complete it in a manner that she could be proud of.

And Raf's the one holding her, trying to figure out how to impress on her that this whole fiasco is not...a suitable way of measuring her worth. Like--it's not proof that she's 'lazy'. This isn't what laziness looks like, this isn't what a "lack of care" or "lack of motivation" looks like. Ugly crying over a low-stakes, free-time, "for fun" project after forcing yourself to work fruitlessly through the night is...disordered. Like, Raf of all people, gets it. He completely understands lmao but it requires attention and help. It's not the first time he's suggested to Margie that she should book an assessment. He's offered to help her get the process started several times in the past. She's always been very "yeahhh...nah" about it. He figured it was because she was afraid of being told that there was something """wrong """ with her. Which--he empathized with a lot, and so never really pressed her about it.

But, over this specific event, it becomes clear that what Margie is most afraid of is hearing and knowing definitively that's there's nothing wrong with her. She worries that her inability to complete things on time, to remember things, to keep organized and clean and to prioritize things is just something everyone has to deal with, and they just care enough to deal with it properly--while she has somehow internalized that crying about it means she won't have to worry about it anymore. Maybe cuz she was spoiled growing up, like her parents use to suggest; that she was never truly forced to face the consequences of her inaction. And, for what ever reason, that'd mean she's just...a bad person.

And once Raf realizes that this is what has been keeping her away from getting assessed, he commits to fully pleading with her to get assessed, promising that no possible outcome will change his opinion of her at his very core. And it works. He's able to get a referral for her from his therapist, gets her booked, and over the course of three appointments, she goes through the assessment--feeling an undeterred mix of anxiety and shame all the while 'cus what if they just think "this girl walks in with a latte and a 'problem' but her real problem is that she has never experienced a real struggle in her life lol" or "she's exaggerating things just so she can get drugs, no way is anyone actually this stupid" or "this is a huge waste of time". That's not how it turns out, of course. Between the self assessment, the assessment she had to give to 3 trusted friends/family members to fill out, the IQ test, the cognitive ability tests, and whatever else happened during the dialogue between her and the psychologist--Margie gets her ADHD diagnosis and an autism diagnosis. She gets Raf to sit in with her while the psychologist goes over the results with her, 'cus she doesn't trust her ability to recite any of that information to him herself afterward lmao To her surprise (and to Raf's quiet, triumphant validation for calling it correctly), Margie's IQ is, apparently, a very sexy 136...but is undercut by remarkably low results on tests pertaining to certain cognitive abilities--to the point of qualifying as significant impairments.

On the list of treatments, medication is suggested as a footnote following a list of things including therapy, habit-building and behavioral exercises, dietary suggestions, and further reading suggestions. Which comes to her as a relief, because it's gonna take her a few more years before she's comfortable with the idea of medicating (imagining in her mind that one unfortunate unofficial Calvin and Hobbes comic that has made her fear losing her enthusiasm for her creative musical endeavors lmao). Until then though, the therapy is, perhaps, the most helpful treatment suggestion on that list. Aside from contributing to supportive mental/emotional/behavioral exercises--after the initial relief of "omg there WAS something wrong, I'm not just a bad, lazy, uncaring person!!"--the backlog of hurt that follows the "I needed help but they punished me instead" revelation provides a lot to work through.

#hi-note #magritte

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deliciousangelfestival · 2 days

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Nothing Has Changed - 3

Summary: Returning home for peace, you're faced with your tormentor, Bucky Barnes, who is now involved in your family's business.

Character: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Words Count: 1,012

Warning: Angst, Tragedy.

Chp 1, Chp 2 , Chp 3 , Chp 4 , -

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more.

You rolled your eyes, this time wanting to slam the door shut. But Bucky stopped the door again.

"Do you want to smash the door? If it's broken, you'll have to pay for the repair fee," Bucky teased, trying to lighten the mood.

You glared at the door. "How much is it to fix the door?"

"Huh?" Bucky was taken aback, realizing you took his joke seriously.

"$50 or $100?" You didn't notice that Bucky was actually joking. If you could slam the door in his face, you'd pay the repair fee no matter the cost.

This brought back memories of when you and Ransom had a business and stayed at hotels. If Ransom got a non-smoking room and needed to smoke, he'd pay $250 for the cleaning fee rather than going outside. You learned from Ransom that money could solve almost all problems.

Bucky, surprised by your reaction, watched as you took money out of your bag.

"Wait, I didn't mean it like that," Bucky stammered, running his hand through his hair.

"I get it, you don't want to be near me. How about this? I'll prepare a car for you. You can use it while you're here," he offered.

Accepting a helping hand from him irked you, but the thought of walking in the unpredictable weather made you hesitate.

"If I use the car, are you going to tell your followers and make me feel like the poorest person in the world again?" you challenged, recalling the high school days you'd rather forget.

Bucky widened his eyes. "God, no. I won't do that. I will never do that to you ever again."

You raised your eyebrows skeptically.

"Just go home and talk to Tom again," Bucky suggested.

"Give me the key," you demanded.

"You're going?" Bucky asked.

You sighed loudly. "I need to take a shower first. Can you leave me alone for some privacy?"

"Oh, I'm sorry," Bucky said softly before leaving.

You shook your head but then realized something—he had said, "I'm sorry." It was the first time you had heard it from him.

If you had heard those words, your life might have changed slightly. But it's too late now.

You went to the bathroom and took a hot bath, letting the hot water relax your tense shoulders.

After finishing, you left the bathroom and saw a set of outfits lying on your bed, along with a letter: "Brand new. Cleaned. Also, the car key is at the front desk."

You clicked your tongue. Front desk? That meant you would probably meet Natasha again.

But why was he giving you brand new outfits? Was this some kind of gift?

Shivering, you decided to leave the new outfits and use the clothes you brought instead.

Heading to the front desk to get the key, you also noticed a casino in the hotel. That was wild. You didn't know a casino was allowed. It seems like the business is doing well, too.

When the elevator doors opened, you stepped out, preparing to encounter Natasha at the front desk. But to make it worse, Bucky was there too. You thought he had already left.

Bucky and Natasha were engrossed in conversation, still the same couple as ever, just like back in high school.

You cleared your throat, causing their conversation to halt.

"Nice to see you again," Natasha greeted.

You gave a small nod in response.

Bucky's gaze traveled from your head to your toe, as if expecting you to be wearing the outfit he had left for you.

"Not my size," you told him bluntly, as if reading his mind.

A flicker of disappointment crossed Bucky's face.

"Is the car ready?" you asked, cutting straight to the point.

Bucky pulled the key from his pocket and handed it to you. "Here you go."

Taking the key, you wasted no time leaving, not sparing a glance back at Bucky and Natasha.

🏡

You arrived back at your home, finding Tom waiting for you on the porch.

"Not working?" you asked.

Tom flinched. "I'm not suited for the job anymore."

"Yeah, just retired and using the money I sent you," you replied sharply.

"It's too much. Besides, I can't spend it all," Tom responded.

"Why not? You could travel the world," you suggested.

Tom shuffled his feet, avoiding your gaze. The worry lines around his eyes seemed more profound than usual, and a tremor ran through his hand as he reached up to rub the back of his neck. "There's something I have to tell you," he finally said, his voice barely a whisper.

A pit of dread formed in your stomach, a cold sensation spreading through your body. "What's wrong?" you asked, your voice tight with concern.

He took a shaky breath, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. Tears welled up in his eyes, glistening at the corners. He shut them for a moment, composing himself, then looked back at you, his expression filled with a raw vulnerability that left you speechless.

"I've been diagnosed with cancer," he confessed, the words heavy and thick on his tongue. They hung in the air between you, a stark declaration that shattered the normalcy of the moment.

The word itself, "cancer," seemed to take a beat to register in your brain. For a horrifying moment, you felt like you were trapped in a bad dream, the world around you a distorted echo.

"Are you sure?" you finally managed, barely above a hoarse whisper.

Tom nodded slowly. "I went to different doctors, and all of them gave the same results."

You asked, "When did you find out?"

"Last year," Tom replied. He discovered it during a routine hospital visit. He noticed his fingers lacked the strength to hold tools while working as a mortician.

The moment the doctor confirmed his diagnosis, Tom didn't accept it immediately. But soon, fear set in. He dreaded the thought of leaving you alone in this world.

Meanwhile, Bucky had been assisting Tom at the morgue and funeral home. Tom confided in Bucky, stating he'd leave the business to him after his passing.

"Fuck," you muttered, feeling unprepared for this news. Losing your father would leave you utterly alone.

You reached for his hand, noticing how much skinnier he'd become. His perpetually pale complexion earned him the nickname "angel of death" among the kids.

"You should move in with me. There are many good hospitals and doctors in the city," you suggested.

But Tom shook his head. "There's a new hospital here focused on cancer patients. The doctors and nurses are helpful."

Besides, he wanted to rest his final days in this town, just like his wife.

"Is the cancer deadly?" you inquired.

Tom sighed heavily. "I really don't know."

Feeling like life was testing you, you reflected on your recent hardships. First, losing your job, then returning to a hometown that held painful memories, and now facing your father's cancer diagnosis.

It felt like someone had dug a grave for you, waiting to push you into it.

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ecoamerica · 1 month

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youtube

Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc

The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!

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loversatthegreatdivide · 3 days

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Heavy Lies the Heart - Part 2

Masterlist // Continue Reading

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x F!OC Word Count: 3.2k Tropes: mutual pining, fluff, angst with a happy ending, royalty Warnings: (eventual) canon death Summary: Two second-borns looking for direction meet by chance. Can they find purpose in each other, or will circumstance keep them apart? A/N: I do not necessarily intent to update this everyday, but then again I won't complain about it when I'm motivated enough to make it happen. Also, just as a side note: My knowledge of the British aristocracy and the laws of inheritance in England at this particular time are shaky at best. Some things I will research because I feel like I can't leave it alone, but in this case I honestly do not care how historically accurate every single detail is. Again, Bridgerton is an AU, so I'll do what I want.

Benedict slumped down on the settee, arms crossed and his brow furrowed. He was all but lying down with how far he had sunk, and as he half-lay in his seat, his mind raced.

He was frustrated.

It had been days since the Danbury ball, and yet he was no closer to discovering the identity of the enchanting young woman he had met there. In these past few days, she had occupied more space in his mind than he was comfortable admitting. He needed to see her again--or at the very least learn her name.

He had been through every family he could possibly think of, but all had been dead ends. Not that he was familiar with every household in the ton, but certainly his mother had briefed him on many of the households with eligible debutantes. He thought surely one must be the home of his mystery woman.

Anthony strolled into the drawing room, an eyebrow lifting as he looked over at his brother.

"What's got you brooding so?" he asked, taking a seat next to Colin at the small, round table that had been laid out with confections. He took a jelly tart for himself as he eyed Benedict from his seat.

"I do not brood brother--you are the one that broods," Benedict corrected, wiggling himself further down the settee, "Honestly I am pouting at best."

"Then what has you pouting so, Benedict?" Colin chimed in, setting the book he had been reading aside.

Benedict thought for a moment about telling them. They were his brothers after all, and there was the possibility one of them may even have some insight into the young lady's identity.

He thought better of it almost as soon as the thought entered his mind.

There was the potential to gain valuable information yes, but the ribbing he would receive in return would be never-ending. And there was the risk of the information reaching his mother's ear. He shuttered to think what she would do if she believed he was actively seeking a wife--he saw how she was with Anthony last season.

He certainly didn't want anyone in his family to presume something so ludicrous as his desire to marry--he wasn't looking for a wife, he was only curious.

Yes, curiosity. That was all.

He decided it wasn't worth the trouble; not yet, at least. While he had no luck finding her again, at the very least he knew she was aware of him. There was a chance she may seek him out, however slim it may be. And of course it seemed very likely she would attend the next ball. A debutante newly introduced in society could hardly be kept from every dance and social engagement held throughout the season. Even if she herself had seemed less than taken with the last event, there was surely a pestering mama in the picture that was pushing her forward regardless.

So he would wait to speak of it with his family until he had no other options.

"I was just thinking longingly of the peace and quiet in the house while the two of you were away," he joked, his hands moving dramatically to press together, as if in prayer.

"Well now I know you're lying," Anthony smirked, "Since when did you enjoy peace and quiet?"

"It certainly sounds out of character," Colin agreed, "Perhaps he simply enjoyed having fewer people around to catch him leaving for his nightly excursions."

"Yes Colin, I think you're right," the eldest brother replied. Benedict scowled, finally sitting up straight as to address his brothers at eye-level.

"That is quite the accusation, dear brother. Care to defend it on the piste?" Benedict challenged.

Colin smirked, "Careful brother--I'm stronger than I used to be."

"Well then, perhaps after another trip abroad you may finally pose a challenge for me," Benedict quipped, "Shall you join as well Anthony? You wouldn't want to miss our younger brother's humiliating defeat."

"He has been rather big-headed since his return, it would be nice to watch his ego deflate," Anthony grinned over at Colin, "For his own sake as well as ours."

"Would the two of you like to back up your boasting, or shall we sit and discuss it for another hour?" Colin huffed. Anthony and Benedict exchanged knowing smiles.

"Very well then," Benedict said as he rose from his seat, "Shall we then?"

The three brothers exited the room, pushing each other lightly and laughing as they headed for the back garden.

---

Beatrice slumped forward in her chair, frowning as her unfocused gaze fell to the bookshelves that lined the far wall. Her chin sat balanced on one hand, as the other absentmindedly fiddled with a page in the large book that lay on the table in front of her. She knew she would be reprimanded if her tutor--or worse, her grandmother--saw her slouching, but she was too bored to concern herself with it at the moment. She sighed, glancing down at the page she held between her fingers.

As the second child of the Prince Regent, Beatrice was fourth in line for the throne--soon to be fifth, once Charlotte's child was born. She no longer needed to prepare for a hypothetical future where she would someday need to step up and become queen. Yet still, her father insisted she continue her studies while forcing her to follow his excessively strict rules. Even convincing him to allow her stay at Buckingham House had been a struggle. Luckily, her father was rather a pushover when it came to his mother, and when the queen had insistent Beatrice be allowed to stay for the season he could hardly say no.

She straighten, only to slid down into her chair. It's not as if she disliked the act of learning altogether. There had been many times when she felt she had truly enjoyed her lessons, having looked forward to more than one. But there were others that felt rather pointless; just tedious memorization that she would never have need for even if she were to become queen.

Studying the crest and founder of all the current noble houses, along with the family tree going back at least three generations, was not exactly thrilling.

She had found some enjoyment when she first started, flipping immediately to the section concerning a family she was now quite interested in. It did somehow feel a little like snooping, and she felt a bit guilty looking through Benedict's family history. However, she told herself it was all public knowledge, and after all it was a part of her studies.

She learned quite a lot about the family--their crest, the first Viscount's name and history, and of course the family as it stands now. It was a surprise to learn Benedict had seven siblings; she couldn't even begin to image having such a large family. Then again, her father was one of fifteen children, so perhaps eight was not so unreasonable.

After learning all she could about the Bridgertons, she moved on. She was less enthusiastic about learning anything at all about the other households, and soon she found her thoughts drifting.

It had been a few days since the ball. Beatrice had been the one to ask if she could attend, and at the time truly thought she would enjoy going. She hoped she may make a friend--possibly even two. She had been so isolated as a child, and her sister had always been little company to her. It would have been nice to talk to people her own age.

However, she had not expected she would cause such a frenzy. She hadn't realized how little people saw of the royal family at such events--with the exception of the queen, of course. It made Beatrice too conspicuous. She was a shining light of hope representing the next generation of the monarchy.

Then of course, there were the men. Knowing nothing about her, yet treating her like a prized mare up for auction. She supposed even as the second child, she must seem appealing to them. The crown may be out of reach, but her future husband would still be a prince--and of course, there was the considerable amount of riches she had access to as a member of the royal household.

Perhaps that's why she had been so taken with Benedict Bridgerton.

He had clearly not known who she was. Perhaps he had arrived late, or been out of the room when she had been announced alongside her grandmother. Either way, he seemed truly clueless to the title she carried. It made him seem so genuine compared to the others she had met that night. It had been so refreshing to be treated as her own person, rather than a royal. It may well be his motivations were less than pure, but at the very least he seemed like an honest person. Perhaps more prone to humorous banter, but still so sincere when it was needed.

This left her with a rather vexing problem.

On the one hand, he would certainly learn her identity sooner or later. It made sense to simply tell Benedict now rather than hide it from him, which may go poorly when he did eventually discover the truth. On the other hand, she had enjoyed their conversation immensely, and if he found out she was a princess after only a single meeting, he would likely feel the obligation to treat her just as everyone else did. She would lose her one chance to have a real connection with someone that wasn't singularly focused on her proximity to the throne.

If she wanted to continue hiding her title from him, she would need to find a way to see him. If they built up a friendship first, perhaps once he did learn the truth he would be less inclined to treat her differently. She was nearly guaranteed to see him at the next ball, but then she would once again be announced as a princess. Whatever had caused him to miss her entrance at the first ball, she had doubts that it would happen a second time.

With that being the case, she either had to wait and see him at the next ball, holding out hope he may continue to act as he had before even after learning the truth. Or, she had to see him outside of a ballroom. She couldn't bare the thought of losing an opportunity for real friendship, but of course she would never be allowed to leave Buckingham House on her own. This left her with only one option.

She would have to sneak out.

---

Benedict lounged lazily on the sill of his bedroom window. His head leaned back against the wood of the frame as he gazed out over the lamp lit streets below. In his lap sat his sketchbook, filled with half-finished sketches of a lovely young woman whose face he just couldn't quite capture.

Spending the afternoon with his brothers had been a nice reprieve from his mind, but night had fallen and now he was alone. There was nothing to stop his thoughts from wandering every corner of London, searching for a girl he hardly knew. Benedict threw his sketchbook to the floor with a groan, rubbing his charcoal stained hands down his face in frustration.

He felt ridiculous, being so overcome with thoughts of someone he barely knew. The mystery and intrigue of it all certainly played a part in his curiosity, but he would be lying if he said it had nothing to do with the girl herself. Such circumstances made her a novelty to be sure, but she had exhibited qualities he had not often see from those of the ton. He had replayed their conversation a hundred times in his mind, and he was now sure that he knew at least something of her character.

To Benedict, she had seemed a well of profound, thoughtful emotion. She felt things deeply and was not ashamed to show it. This was in contrast to so many in his social class, who held propriety above all things--even their own feelings.

She had been shy, but still wasn't quite as naive as he may have first thought. She was clearly kind, but that didn't stop her from being quick-witted when she saw the occasion for it.

It had been such a short amount of time, but what he had learned of her had only fueled a desire to learn more.

Perhaps most interesting was that her insecurities seemed to match his own perfectly. He had been feeling rather useless following Anthony's return, and from what she had said she felt quite the same about her own situation. He had never expected to find a kindred spirit in one of the young ladies of the ton.

Not that Benedict thought them all completely incapable of deeper thought, it was only that his situation as a second-son was rather obviously specific only to sons. A woman could not inherit her families title even if she were the first born child, so it was unlikely to find one so worried over her place within the family hierarchy. It was their future husband's title that truly mattered.

He didn't know enough about the young lady's family to know for sure, but he supposed if her family had only daughters it would be up to the eldest to marry well to secure their family's title and estate. A second daughter would inevitably leave once she was wed, leading him to believe his mysterious young lady must also be quite loyal to worry about her family so.

Perhaps that was something to think on.

---

Benedict, so caught up in his own mind, failed to notice when the very woman occupying his thoughts appeared on the street below him.

She pulled the hood closer to her face as she looked up at him, his shadowed profile gazing up at the stars. He was difficult to make out in the low light, but she was quite certain it was him.

Benedict Bridgerton.

She was thankful to arrive having drawn no unnecessary attention. This time, she wore a less conspicuous dress than she had at the ball. It was made of a pale green fabric, cut in the popular style the other ladies of the ton were wearing. She had worn a silken, violet cloak over top so she was able to hide her face from view. Perhaps walking around covering her face was in itself a suspicious act, but anyone who may look at her strangely for it would have no opportunity to get a good look at her face, which was all that concerned her.

She may have avoided notice so far, but she faced a new problem: How was she to draw Benedict's eye without also drawing the attention of passersby on the street? She could not simply call out to him, but them he would need to be looking down at the street to alert him quietly. Frustratingly, at the moment he seemed content looking up at the sky, rather than down to earth.

She had only one other idea.

---

As Benedict sat deep in thought, he was roused by a small clank on the wall near his window. Before he had the chance to turn his head, something small and hard smacked him in the forehead. The surprise caused him to lose his balance, his body rocking back and forth in the open window. When he at last steadied himself, he rubbed his forehead, looking down to find whomever it was that had struck him.

A woman in a hooded cloak looked back up at him, gloved hands raised to her mouth in a look of surprise and worry.

Once she realized she had his attention, she pulled back her hood, and Benedict felt his heart jump to his throat.

It was her.

She was really here.

This time, the shock did cause him to tumble over, though thankfully landing on his bedroom floor rather than the street below. He scrambled to the window, popping his head out as he gripped the sill. She had one hand to her lips, her shoulders shaking as she tried to stifle a laugh. She quickly beckoned for him to come down before turning, pulling her hood back to it's place atop her golden curls.

Benedict fumbled as he stood, grabbing his coat and gloves from their place discarded on his bed as he all but ran out of the room. He nearly barreled straight into Anthony as he flew down the stairs, one arm in his jacket.

Anthony gave Benedict a suspicious look, "And where are you going in such a rush?"

"Out," Benedict replied simply, sliding his free arm through the empty sleeve.

"Out where?" Anthony asked, annoyed.

"Just out," Benedict reiterated, "Honestly brother, do you truly want to know?"

Anthony sighed, "No, I suppose I don't." He gave his brother a stern look, "Just be sure your mother doesn't catch you--I have to hear enough from her about Colin as it is."

Benedict smiled. He grabbed Anthony's face between his hands and gave his cheek a quick kiss, "Thank you brother!" Anthony made a disgusted noise, knocking Benedict's hands away, "This is why you're my favorite elder brother," he added as he began descending the rest of the staircase.

"I'm your only elder brother!" Anthony shot back, shaking his head as he turned away, continuing his way up to the second floor.

Benedict grinned from ear to ear as he burst through the doors of Bridgerton House. He turned when he reached the street, catching sight of her as she fidgeted with her hands nervously. His smile softened as he watched her, though in truth he was beginning to feel quite nervous himself. Benedict started to move toward her, and soon enough she caught sight of him. He smiled at her, his stomach doing somersaults when she shyly smiled back. They stood there in silence for a long moment, taking each other in.

"You're here," Benedict commented at last.

"Ah, yes...I am," she smiled as she glanced down briefly, "It's good to see you again, Mister Bridgerton--and I am quite sorry, about the rock." He looked at her in confusion, until she quickly pointed to her forehead and he realized her meaning.

"Oh! Was that what that was? It's no bother--after all, I can think of far worse things you could have thrown at me." The back of her fingers pressed lightly to her lips as she laughed. He smiled, feeling emboldened by her response to his rather silly joke, "Though, if you truly wanted to make it up to me, you could start by telling me your name?"

She looked surprised, "Oh, right. Of course. I suppose I did fail to give it to you when we spoke before."

"Yes, and I must say I've been taking it quite personally," he said, his lower lip pouting as he looked at her in mock sadness. She smiled.

"Well, I would hate to think I had caused you any pain," she joked, and he grinned back. "You may call me Beatrice."

----------

Tags: @empressnatsume

#benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x oc #bridgerton #heavy lies the heart #loversatthegreatdivide #my writing

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01zfan · 22 hours

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#45 | o. sh

volleyball player!shotaro x student manager!reader | 5.4k words

anons who requested this. i am SO SORRY it took me so long to get to this. i had to channel my past in volleyball for this and find the motivation for it so i hope the quality and the length makes up for the wait!

contains: semi-public, hand stuff only, mentions of clothing being tight (???)

shotaro would’ve never thought he’d end up playing volleyball. as a child he liked watching basketball the most, and when he he was in middle school he played soccer. but one summer at a sleep-away camp he picked up a volleyball for the very first time. shotaro received so many compliments about how he was a natural that he decided to tryout for the team on a whim. he knew it was insane to go into tryouts for a sport he never played, that it was less than likely he would be selected for the team. but it turned out everyone was right, he did have a natural talent. it wasn’t long before shotaro was accepted, becoming the libero on the junior varsity team.

shotaro also didn’t think he’d stay with it. just like soccer he found himself hitting ruts that caused him to lose momentum. he had to learn a completely new sport, he had to learn how to go for passes with his hands and dig for balls by diving his body to the floor instead of using his legs. the frustration of moving his body differently manifested into him not caring for the sport. it wasn’t long before he was not giving his all at practice, only nodding his head or shrugging his shoulders when the coach would ask him what was happening.

he even considered quitting when the coach wouldn’t bench him at the games. he knew he couldn’t stop himself from doing his best during games, especially with his team counting on him. he reluctantly ended up doing the best he could, and as a result his team did the best they could too. by his sophomore year shotaro was on the varsity team, and by the time he graduated he was captain.

when shotaro came to college it was a completely different atmosphere. he was against people stronger and taller than him, and he was up against people who didn’t have anything but love and passion for the sport. after the first day of tryouts shotaro stayed behind long after everyone left, practicing the drills he messed up. he was in his own little world, sweat dripping from his brow as he wondered if volleyball was worth it anymore.

“the gym is closed.”

shotaro turned away from the net to follow the voice. he remembers your face, but the amount of names he heard that day made him forget. all shotaro knew was that you were the assistant student manager. he saw your duffle slung over your shoulder as you wiped sweat from your brow with the bottom of your shirt.

“you’ll only hurt yourself at this point. try sleeping on it, the drills will come to you naturally.” you turned around to walk out of the gym, and shotaro was getting ready to resume his drills. you turned around again, hand on the strap of your bag as you got his attention again. “you’re shotaro right?” you asked.

shotaro was shocked that you remembered his name. he was one face out of the crowd of athletes. he doesn’t even remember if he had the chance to formally introduce himself to anyone before they started explaining the process of tryouts.

“yeah.” shotaro said.

”cool.” shotaro saw you look down at your feet, his eyes caught on the brace that was bound to your ankle and the small scar down your knee. “you’re really good. i hope you make the team.” you said.

shotaro could only nod, giving you a simple wave as you left the gym. he thought nothing about his performance was noteworthy, much less worthy of praise. but you seemed to mean it, and as you walked away shotaro took your words of advice seriously. he packed up shortly after you left, and he had a long nights rest to recuperate from all the exercise.

he found out you were right when the drills came to him like second nature the next day. he saw you watching him a few times, giving him nods of approval and a thumbs up each time he caught your eye. shotaro found himself looking to you each time he did a perfect serve, or was able to get a ball that seemed unsalvageable. he found himself overhearing the pointers you’d give to everyone else, even if they didn’t apply to him. each time you gave him advice shotaro listened intently, blaming the heat he felt across his face on the strenuous workouts.

at the end of the week when he made the team, you were the first person he looked for. in such a short time shotaro decided that you were his good luck charm and that he needed to let you know. he was quick asking for your number, hiding it under the guise of needing to have the student manager’s contact information. you gave it to him with a smile on your face, putting your name and number in his phone.

“i’m going to the dining hall after this.” you handed shotaro back his phone and he texted you so you could have his number too. “if you wanna come with.” you offered.

shotaro took you up on the offer a little too quickly. he sat with you and the rest of the team, sharing stories about volleyball before coming to college. shotaro saw you nod and smile, understanding all the nuances of what it was to be a volleyball player, but never sharing stories of your own. he knew not to ask about it, he had come to that conclusion after finding about your vast knowledge of the sport and seeing the scar on your knee.

you and shotaro had made fallen into your own post-practice routine. he would wait for you in the main gym while you finished your clerical duties at the end of the night, and you two would walk together to the dining hall. sometimes you would end up catching the rest of the team, but more often than not it would be just the two of you sitting in the booth of an emptying dining hall. you two talked about life back home, what you were planning to study, and everything in between.

the friendship blossomed quickly, but the dynamic changed the more you two spent time together. shotaro went from sitting across from you in the booth to sliding in next to you, so close that your shoulders touched. you two went from saying goodbye outside of the dining hall to shotaro walking you to your dormitory. eventually he was holding your duffle bag for you on the walk over, and one day he finally got the courage to reach for your hand.

by the middle of the season, you two were in a relationship. everyone on the team seemed to know before you guys did, some even bet on how long it would take before you two got together. you two kept your relationship out of practice. you didn’t hesitate to advise shotaro and you refused to hold back critiques relayed to you by the coach.

he respected you for your professionalism and passion for the sport, he truly did. he loved how you cared for the team and managed the responsibilities of the job while also easing everyone else’s stress. shotaro and his team never had to worry about the logistics of practice, they never had to worry about the little things if you were there. shotaro always found himself puffing out his chest proudly when his teammates would praise your hard work or mention that they never had a student manager like you. so shotaro didn’t know why he would feel a pang of jealousy seeing the girlfriends of his teammates in the stands wearing their jerseys.

he knew it was unfair to impose anything on you. shotaro was able to get your support constantly outside the context of games, so he didn’t know why he felt that way. sometimes all shotaro could think about during games or practice was seeing his player numbers across your chest. he thinks he would be unstoppable on the court if he saw it only once—he’d keep a picture of you in his mind like soldiers did of their wives back home before going to war. but he would never ask you to do anything that would show such blatant favoritism, even if he was your boyfriend and everyone knew it. he could also never bring himself to admit the primitive aspect of it all, that he would feel some sense of satisfaction seeing his number on your body. so because of that, shotaro simply kept it to himself.

he had planned to never tell you about it, but it was hard to avoid the conversation when it was staring at him right in the face.

it was another long practice, ending with you walking around the main gym looking for shotaro. you called out his name and texted his phone to see where he was. you knew that no one else was in the gym at this time, you had even seen the custodians leave for the night after cleaning the floors. you followed the sounds of the showers, standing outside as you called out your boyfriends name again.

“i’m in here.” he called back.

“i’ll wait outside!” you yelled, hoping your voice would carry over the sound of running water.

as soon as you were done speaking, you heard the water shut off.

“come in. it’s just me.” shotaro said.

instantly you shook your head, looking up to the camera that was pointing right at the entrance of the showers.

“i can’t. not allowed.” you said simply.

shotaro came from around the corner of the tile wall, only wearing a towel around his waist. he had another towel in his hands, running through the wet strands of his hair.

“if anyone asks, say you heard me slip and fall.” shotaro beckons to you, and your feet started moving on their own accord. “come in.” he smiled.

shotaro lead you through the winding tile walls of the showers until you made it to the main dressing room. you set your duffle down beside the bench, sitting on the polished wood as shotaro finished getting ready. you looked up in the large mirror embedded into the wall in front of you to stare at him. the pale blue tiles went all the way up to the white ceiling. you counted them up and down, each time leading you back to the reflection of shotaro’s body in the fogging glass.

he pretended to not notice your stare as he took his towel off to dry the rest of his body. when he looked in the mirrors reflection and saw you look away quickly, his laugh filled the room.

“it’s nothing you haven’t seen before.” shotaro said.

you nodded your head sheepishly, still looking down at your feet. he wasn’t wrong, you had seen shotaro naked more times than you could count on your hands and feet. but it was different seeing him outside the privacy of your dorm rooms. you have never seen shotaro naked in a place that could easily be invaded. all it took was a straggler from practice or a custodian to catch you staring at your naked boyfriend. you only slightly settled down when you heard him pull up the pants to his tracksuit. when you looked back up to the mirror shotaro was putting on his shirt.

he came behind you, looking at you in the mirror with a smile on his face. shotaro bent down and kissed the crown of your head. you tilted you head to look at him directly.

“how was practice for you?” you asked.

shotaro shrugged his shoulders, moving his hand to massage your neck. he continued looking in the mirror to stare at you, and when he got to a stubborn knot you let your head lull forward.

“it was good. i’m a little nervous for the game tomorrow.” shotaro answered.

you hummed sympathetically, pulling shotaro’s hands away. you guided him around the bench to stand in front of you. you were sincere as you spoke, holding his hands tightly.

“you’ll do great, i know you will.” you encouraged.

shotaro nodded his head, feeling the anxiety of the important match melt off of his shoulders. he already felt like he was on top of the world just by looking down at you. shotaro watched the serious look on your face change to a bright smile as you squeezed his hands again.

“i do have a surprise for you.” you excitedly waved his hands around. “it just came in today and i can’t wait.” you said.

shotaro couldn’t control his own smile. he thought about what you could possibly give him as he cocked his head to the side.

“and what is that?” he asked.

you guided his hands again until he was standing next to the bench opposite of you. you both moved to straddle the bench, and shotaro watched you look to your duffle bag before looking to him.

“close your eyes.” when shotaro’s eyes stayed on your duffle bag you stopped messing with the zipper. “taro i’m serious!” you laughed.

shotaro hesitated for a moment, but let his eyes close. he let his imagination run wild, trying to think what surprise was waiting for him in your duffle. he thought maybe it was his favorite snack, maybe it was a lucky pair of socks or a handwritten note. when shotaro thought he heard the sound of your clothes jostling he had to compose himself. he tried to beat the dirty thoughts away with a stick as he held onto the edges of the bench. he heard you curse under your breath a moment later.

when everything was still in the room again, he stuck out a tongue to wet his lips.

“okay. open them.” you said hesitantly.

shotaro wasn’t expecting to actually be surprised when he opened his eyes. his wildest imagination would’ve never been able to pluck the view he was blessed with down from his mind to place it right in front of him. he let out a sigh from the other side of the bench as he took all of you in. he got the perfect view from where he was. he was able to see the 45 of his jersey stretch across your chest and how the tight fabric rode up to reveal your stomach. shotaro couldn’t take his eyes off of you as you pulled at the end of the sleeves in efforts to make it fit right.

“it’s a little snug.” your attempt to pull down the bottom of the shirt was futile. it rode back up immediately once you were done pinching the fabric. “i thought mens sizes were supposed to be bigger.” you said

shotaro still couldn’t take his eyes off of your chest as he shook his head. the primitive thoughts shotaro tried to keep at bay became barbaric as he watched the tight jersey material stick to you. when you crossed your arms to cover your chest shotaro’s hands went to your bicep, pushing them back to your sides.

“perfect fit.” shotaro spread his legs on either side of the bench further as he took his hands off your arms. “it’s a perfect fit. no reason to hide.” he said.

he watched you mesmerized as you continued to move in his jersey. your end of the bench felt like it was miles away the longer he looked at you on the other side. he reached out a hand to you, letting his palm drag across the polished wood as he pulled his hand back. shotaro was grateful you understood what he needed as you came forward, your hands gripping the edges of the bench. you brought your arms in to make your chest poke out more, trying to give him a show. his eyes ran over his numbers before he went to the shy smile on your face. shotaro mirrored your grin as he scooted forward closer to you. shotaro’s smile only got bigger as you two came closer and closer, by the time your face casted a shadow on his you could see his gleaming teeth. he only stopped smiling a moment before your lips touched his, biting them as he looked down to yours.

your kisses were light and soft, both of you tilting your heads to accommodate the other. one of shotaro’s hands came from behind him to go to your waist, and one of your hands let go of the bench to hold onto his face. you could feel the soft skin of shotaro’s cheek underneath your fingertips as you deepened the kiss. you held his head in place as you pushed your tongue past his lips. shotaro’s other hand went to your waist and he pulled you in closer, until you had to put your legs over his.

shotaro only brought you closer, and he moved towards you to cover the rest of the space. you could feel all of him press against you as one of his hands moved to your ass and the other moved to the small of your back. shotaro applied pressure, making your chest come closer to his as your hand that wasn’t on his face went to his shoulder. he was grabbing handfuls of you, kneading whatever part of your body he could get his hands on while your grip on his shoulder tightened. neither of you refused to pull away, only catching quick breaths in the seconds one of you would pull away to readjust.

when you moaned into shotaro’s mouth he remembered where he was. he was supposed to be like you, taking his role on the team very seriously. he remembered that he shouldn’t be making out with you in a place where you two could so easily get caught. so he pulled away from you reluctantly, and moved a gentle hand to your shoulder to keep you from leaning forward again. your plump lips called to him, but he remained steady as he caught his breath.

“we could get caught.” shotaro said.

you only nodded your head, eyes wide as you tried catching your breath. shotaro nodded too, trying hard to not let his eyes wander back to his numbers across your chest. he still had a handful of your ass, and he could feel you arch your back in efforts to give him more. your hands that were still on shotaro’s face pulled him in, and he only resisted for a second before going back in.

now it was you smiling against his lips, taking a deep breath in as you pulled on his bicep. shotaro’s hand went to your thigh as he lifted to get you completely on his lap. your hand on his face went to the nape of his neck before traveling up his scalp, reveling in the soft strands running through your fingers. when you pulled shotaro sighed, slipping his tongue further into your mouth.

you two were so caught up in the act of kissing that you forgot what always followed it. you were lost in how shotaro’s soft lips pressed into yours that you nearly gasped in his mouth feeling his dick pulse against you. he responded by only pulling you closer, and when your lips broke apart shotaro went to whatever part of your body he could reach. when you tilted your chin back he went to your jaw, traveling all the way down your neck until he got to what his jersey covered. shotaro pulled your hips down to his lap and he pushed into you when you pulled the hair at his scalp.

“you’re really hard right now.” you sighed.

“sorry.” shotaro said in between kisses. “you just look so perfect.”

“yeah?” you laughed, bringing your hands to shotaro’s face so he could look up at you. “i thought we could get caught?” you asked.

“i don’t remember saying that.” shotaro said.

you both let out quick chuckles and shotaro couldn’t stop thinking about how all of his restraint melted away feeling in your presence. it was a problem he was developing, even worse than his habit of not saying mine when going for a ball or cursing under his breath when a play wasn’t set up perfectly. he looked at the glint in your eyes and down to his number that was covered up by your two bodies pressing together.

there are worse problems to have.

shotaro travels his hand up your thigh, watching the anticipation build behind your eyes as you preen into him. he messes with the fabric at the end of the shorts before pressing into you. you break eye contact to tilt your head back but shotaro’s eyes stay on you, how your neck bobs as you get the little relief. he feels himself becoming impatient at the sight, and he pulls your waist down with his other hand so you can feel all of him.

he repeats the action, just pressing into you and bringing your hips down to meet his each time you raise them. he can feel his dick pulsing in his pants, and shotaro almost sticks his own hand underneath his waistband to relieve the aching. but he doesn’t want to miss a single second of you getting teased as your eyebrows furrow from the almost pleasure.

“shotaro.” you sigh, looking up to the ceiling.

your own hand starts drifting down, taking the time to press into shotaro’s chest and stomach before you reach the pants of his tracksuit. you look down to shotaro when the thick band of fabric stays in your way, and he looks up at you with his eyes gleaming. his hand stops pressing into your heat to go up to your waistband.

“mhm?” he hums.

neither of you say anything else as both of your hands move at the same time. you grab his dick and shotaro goes to your clit—not wasting any more time to tease. you both silently come to the conclusion you will have time for all the other stuff later, right now it was all about sated the desperation both of you felt until you were somewhere more private.

shotaro knew he’d have to take his time with you in his dorm when he rubbed the first circle around your clit. instantly you were curling into him, muffling your tiny whimper into his shirt. shotaro knew he would be better composed later in the day, that he would be able to tease you or coo at the sounds you made into the fabric of his shirt instead of biting his lip to keep his own sounds at bay. he couldn’t help himself when you squeezed your hand around his dick just right, and when you had his name and number written all over you.

the both of you were too reckless to start at a slow speed. when your hands went to eachother you both started fast, rushing through the motions as the last bit of your brains that were working told you that you had to be quick. so you quickly pumped shotaro’s dick until he was thrusting into your hand and he wasted no time teasing your clit until you were begging for his fingers. you both were messes for eachother in seconds, hands wedged between smushed bodies and shoved underneath clothes in shotaro’s team locker room. the novelty of it all would’ve made you both laugh if you weren’t so caught up in trying to feel everything.

shotaro felt the joking mood shift as you looked up to him. he could see the lights of the locker room reflect your glassy eyes, making it look like you had stars swimming in your irises. you were serious as you looked up to him, lips pouting as you spoke.

“you’re so good at volleyball.” you said, looking straight into shotaro.

his fingers on your clit faltered at the sudden praise, only finding their tempo again when you bucked your hips and let out a small desperate sound.

“what?” shotaro asked, trying to keep up with your hand that tightened around his dick.

“you’re so good at volleyball.” you repeated.

you repeated the words without faltering, tilting your head. you could see the confusion written on his face, flickering between that and how his lips parted when you squeezed a little tighter. you leaned back to rest on your hand that wasn’t on shotaro, giving both of you enough room to move your hands faster. the new angle let you pull down shotaro’s sweats enough to see the tip of his dick peaking out past your hand.

“i know i said you could do whatever you want.” you pumped his dick faster, feeling him pulse in your hand each time you went back down from his tip. “but i wanted to die when you told me you were thinking of quitting.”

shotaro quickly changed the angling of his hand in your pants, making his palm face the ceiling so he could finger you and stimulate your clit at the same time. you closed your eyes from the change and let a tiny fuck slip past your lips before opening them again. you clenched around his fingers when shotaro licked his lips.

“why?” he asked weakly.

“because you’re such a good leader, even if you aren’t captain yet” you started swiveling your hips into his hand, chasing that feeling building in the pit of your stomach. “they couldn’t do it without you.” you whined.

shotaro found himself chasing after something else, and a different feeling erupted across his body hearing your praise. he didn’t know what to do with himself hearing the rushed compliments fall from your lips as he watched you try and fuck yourself on his fingers. shotaro came to the embarrassing realization that he didn’t need you to touch him anymore, he could fall apart just from watching you and hearing you talk to him.

“they’re more than capable.” shotaro bent his fingers inside of you, eyes already focused on your chest to watch it jolt in the confines of his jersey as your whole body twitched. “feels good?” he asked.

shotaro watched you lull forward, eyes lazily focused on him as you nodded your head. he could see you actively trying to remember what you were saying, swallowing as you prepped your shaky voice.

“eunseok would’ve never been able to fix his jump serve if you didn’t help him.” shotaro tried putting in a third finger, but when he saw you wince he pulled back. “and sungchan kept touching that fucking net until you scolded him.” you said.

shotaro could tell you were getting close by the way your words were turning into babbles and your hand on his dick was becoming more and more rushed. he watched you screw your eyes shut and when you opened them he could see the tears in the corner of your eyes as you tried to focus on his. shotaro kept his eyes open wide, trying to remember the sight when he tries out for captain.

your walls closed around shotaro’s digits repeatedly, and he continued pumping his fingers in and out even if it felt like you were trying to suck him in.

“you think i’m a good volleyball player?” shotaro asked the question just to see you pitifully nod your head.

“you’re the best.” you arched your back, and the new angle helped shotaro go deeper inside of you. “you’re my favorite.” you whimpered.

shotaro’s eyes were wide as he took in every word. your voice dripped with sincerity as you rushed through sentences. shotaro used one of his hands to trace the curve of your body, ending at the bottom of his jersey. he pulled on the material, bringing the pinched fabric down your torso until it was completely straight. shotaro felt a newfound pride in himself that materialized in his chest, trickling down like molten lava to his stomach. immediately when he let go the tight fabric clung to you like a second skin, riding up the same way it did before. shotaro ran a quick hand through his hair as he felt the excitement prickling across his body.

“i’m gonna cum.” shotaro said.

his voice was beginning to waiver, floating between grunts and prolonged sighs. you nodded your head again, pushing up from your other hand to focus. you squeezed shotaro’s tip, using his precum as lubricant for your ministrations. he jerked his hips up quickly, bunching his pants at his mid thigh to free the rest of his dick. you moaned at the sight, using your legs that were still on shotaro’s to bring your body closer to his.

shotaro wrapped his hand around your back, giving you stability and enough space to work your hands the same way. when he saw you bring the end of his jersey down shotaro couldn’t hold out any longer. he pressed his fingers into your side and he closed his eyes as relief washed over his body. you kept working your hand when shotaro stilled underneath you, and he heard more mumbled praises fell from your lips as his his dick twitched in your hand. he left out one final curse, leaning forward until his head rested on your shoulder.

when shotaro opened his eyes he saw his cum glide down your hand and his abs. he saw some of it on your stomach, dribbling down your body to seep into the fabric of your sweatpants. you looked down too, looking back up to shotaro with a hunger that made him almost ready to go again.

before you could close the distance between your lips shotaro leaned forward, working still feeling the buzzing across his body as his lips ghosted over yours.

“i couldn’t have done it without you.” shotaro said it quietly, afraid that if he got any louder he would only moan. he took his fingers from your clenching heat to focus on your clit. “you’re my motivation to be in this stupid sport and the only reason i stayed.”

shotaro felt your legs shake over his and your hand moved from his dick to dig your nails into his stomach. shotaro flexed for you, hardening the muscle underneath his skin. he could feel the cum on your hand smear onto his stomach, warm and sticky as your grip on him changed.

“you close?” shotaro asked, readjusting his hand around your back.

“so close.” you whimpered. “just keep going.”

“okay baby.” shotaro’s hand across the small of your back pulled at you, making you lean forward into his chest. “moan into my shirt if you need to.” he whispered.

you nodded while pushing your hips forward trying to work with shotaro’s fingers. your entire body went tense, gripping shotaro’s shirt so hard the fabric wrinkled. your moans became whiny and you could feel shotaro nodding his head.

“i got you.” he whispered into your ear.

your full body shook around shotaro, and he continued to nod and keep the same speed. he could feel the same relief coming off you in waves, and shotaro let a finger run down your folds to gather your cum. he used that as extra lubrication on your clit, speeding up until you let out a shuddering breath. he didn’t stop until you started shaking your head against his chest and your hand on his abs clasped around his wrist. he still tried circling his hand, smiling as how you had to push yourself off his lap before you got overstimulated.

“baby.” shotaro breathed.

“mhm?” you hummed.

you still leaned into his chest, and shotaro watched your back raise and lower as you tried catching your breath. he saw the small trace of tear tracks underneath your hooded eyes.

“did you mean all the stuff you said?” he asked.

you put your hands to his face as you nodded your head. shotaro leaned into your palms, and the need to be touched by you took over his mind again.

“of course i did.” you bring shotaro forward to kiss his forehead. when you pulled back he saw the facetious smile on your face. “i would love to tell you more about it, actually.” you teased.

you and shotaro were tripping over eachother as you gathered your belongings. you readjusted your sweatpants and threw shotaro’s hoodie over his jersey. shotaro slung both of your duffles over his shoulder quickly. you moved in a haste, not looking back at the bench to see if you left a mess. shotaro didn’t turn around till he made it to the exit, peaking at you one last time with a joking smile on his face.

“just make sure the jersey stays on.” he laughed.

#requestz #01zfan: shotaro #riize smut #shotaro smut

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liveontelevision · 2 days

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Hello friends,

Sorry about the lack of content recently, I've been running kinda low on energy :,) but I have some little treats, never fear.

Here's a short Vox thing I wrote awhile ago, it's angsty it's kissy, it ends with a cliffhanger. Classic fic by me.

I meant to turn it into a full thing, and I just might later? We'll see

CW: Smoking and smooching

Human | Vox x Reader

You cringe, scrunching up your nose when the familiar scent hits you. You approach the TV-headed demon, who was lounging on the large balcony of the Vees' Penthouse. Or was it lamenting?

"Yuck. You still smoke here?"

"It's Hell, doll. It's not like it'll kill me. Can't even feel the high anymore, actually."

"I guess not.. Then why do you even smoke? If it doesn't affect you?"

"Eh. I don't know. Try not to think too hard into that shit." A comfortable silence falls between the two of you.

"Can I bum one?" With a mocking scoff, he reaches into his pocket to pull out the pack. In a thoughtless decision, you place the cigarette between your teeth, pulling his face in your direction and inching impossibly close to him. He seemed startled by your sudden attack.

You hover just in front of his lips, lighting the end of your cigarette with the cherry of his own.

That was definitely an interesting move for someone with absolutely no history of smoking. As you inhale, you choke up and immediately cough out the rest. Vox is only watching you, a smile tugging at his lips while you cough up a lung. Your eyes water and you let out a whimper before propping your arms against the railing.

"Smooth." He comments.

"W-Watch it." You snap back.

You do manage to draw out a smoother hit, looking down at the city that, ironically, seemed so lively.

All that time went to waste. All those years you'd spent chasing over this CEO, being a part of the paparazzi, stalking the media for any buzz, passing his building when you have the time.. had the time. The fact that he's seemingly replicated his dream headquarters in the center of the underworld seemed like a Hell in itself. Constantly mocking you for never getting your big scoop. For wasting your life on him.

You couldn't help but approach it at first. You reluctantly enter the stores and offices that surround the first floor, inspecting all his products. You didn't recognize him at first. I mean, he has a TV screen for a head. His voice is what gave it away. His charismatic facade and sauve persona he uses on any television program. That's what you recognized. Apparently those are skills that stick with you after death.

He found you eventually. You'd been residing on the barren side of Hell. It was cozy. Not everyone had family members with them, you were just the lucky few. Your sweet grandma was here. Sinners who are visibly older seemed to be avoid by most clear-minded demons. Why bug them? And what kind of decisions did they make to end up here and survive for so long? They probably don't even remember why they're here. But some seemed to remember their lives.

Your grandma recognize you almost immediately. She was quick to take you into a part of hell that seemed to bypass the cities and dangers. It, of course, had its flaws. The Hellborn rodents were bothersome, but it somehow managed to be peaceful on its own.

It didn't last long, though. Extermination Day finally caught up to your little home. You have no idea how you survived, it was a miracle. but you were the only one. You started appreciating your aftlife in another fit of irony. You're nearly immortal, maybe it's time to give the city a try.

"Thanks for taking me in, too. You didn't have to do that."

"I can't leave my favorite stalker on the streets." He nudges you, having to lean down a bit to do so. He was towering. You let out the softest chuckle, leaning into his touch, despite it's teasing motivations. You sigh, taking another drag.

"Wait these aren't Valentino's smokes, are they?" You hold it over the edge, ready to flick it from your fingers, if that's the case.

"Definitely not. I wouldn't give you those if you asked." You hum at his words, releasing a puff of smoke. "But, uh.. let me know if he offers you any, alright?" You let out a little laugh and nod.

Your comfortable silence was broken, with the end of your cigarette. You let it crumble to the ground, stomping it with your nice business shoes. Vox rolls his eyes, shooing you away.

"Don't ruin those, they were expensive." He mutters.

"Well I would've been fine if you didnt essentially set my wardrobe on fire." You scoff.

"Your wardrobe? Was a bunch of country bumpkin dresses with poofy sleeves, doll. Even Vel was ready to get rid of that mess." The silence overcomes again. The breeze coming from the sheer height of the building seemed refreshing. You looked up to Heaven. How cruel of them to put it in sight.

"I really thought that was it. That life was short and then you die. That there was no point in trying to get rich and famous as long you were doing something you liked."

"So you liked stalking me?"

"Fuck off, Vox, you know what I mean." You couldn't help but smile. "How could I have wasted all that time on you? I could've been building my skills. Maybe I wouldn't be mooching off of some big shot like you if I did." You looked away, not willing to make any eye contact while mentioning him.

"Hey, you know I don't mind.. you can't prepare for death." He reaches out, he's not sure why, maybe to offer you some comfort. Maybe he just wanted to see your face, again. You darted away from him unknowingly, making his hand recoil.

"But, I mind! I don't want to rely on you. I should be able to do this by myself, I came here the same way you did, I had the same chance to get to where you are now." You huffed, embarrassment from your confession turning your face red. "But I just.. I didn't. I keep wasting my time..."

A cool touch hit your cheek, and before you know it your head had been turned to face Vox. He kept his claws holding your chin upwards, despite your attempts to pull out of his grasp.

"Stop it. There's nothing but time here. Listen, I know this isn't exactly what you had in mind, but- for the first time in years.. I feel... human, again." You blink slowly at him, not exactly minding his touch at this point. "And that's because of you." You hated getting flustered, but his words alone caused you to tense up. He felt your jaw clenching in his hand, bringing him back to reality. With a quick release, he brings his fist to his mouth and clears his throat.

"So.. yeah. Don't get it in your head that this is some sort of.. sugar daddy thing. You're free to do whatever you want. You can do whatever you want. And- you uh.. you're always welcome back." You stare at him for longer than you'd like to admit. Looking for some kind of excuse for your gaze, you hold your hand out for another cigarette. He gets the memo after awhile.

You place it between your lips and before you get the chance to think, his hands are back on your chin, bringing your face close. He mirrors your actions from before. It startled you, the cigarette falling from your lips and rolling off the balcony floor. Both your eyes follow it for a moment, before looking at eachother and sharing a little laugh.

His own cigarette falls from his lips. And with his hand still on chin you're pulled into an expected kiss. The sight of his dazed eyes when he finally pulls away only leaves you wanting more. But.. you can't. You pull away with a sullen look and step away from balcony. Without a word, you leave him alone. He's lost yet another independent spark. His heart can ache later. For now, he's cursing himself for letting anyone see that side of him, again.

♡♡♡

Womp womp

Love the pics where they knew eachother in life 👌

Taglist:

( @vififofum / @thornwolfy235 / @tinywolfiegirl / @chipper-chip / @bat-boness / @misfitgirlwrites / @nayomi247 / @lonelynmisunderstood / @escapistoftherealworld / @b4ts1e / @hamthepan / @kyo-kyo1 / @looking1016 / @polytheatrix / @littledolly2345 / @lillianastuff / @yourlocalcryptidbee /@0strawberrysorbet0 / @themageofblood / @jayyyayaysblog / @floralsightings / @azmosposts / @8har0ley8 / @actuallyspiderwoman / @sirenetheblogger / @christineblood / @kaytemchugh / @cimadreamer / @simpdevil66 / @azmosposts / @m3ow1 / @acrazyartist / @redfoxwritesstuff / @4k1to / @meesachan / @corvusskid / @alientee /@xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx / @alon3lylov3r /@sapphireravensworld / @mjmdragons / @catticora / @the-maladaptivedaydreamer / @carrie0-1 / @shamblezzz / @cassandras-nest )

#hazbin hotel #hazbin #hazbin hotel fandom #hazbin hotel fanfic #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin fics #vox x you #vox x reader #vox hazbin hotel #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel vox #vox hazbin x reader

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prolix-yuy · 16 hours

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Hello friends! It's been way way way way WAY too long since we chatted, and to be honest I've been taking an embarrassingly long time to write this update post because godDAMN life just gets you sometimes and you go on an impromptu hiatus that gets super messy. So let's get into what's been going on and what to look forward to!

Pedro Tax for this long-ass post.

(We're gonna get into some personal stuff, but if you're just here for what's coming up skip down to WHAT'S NEXT for the tl;dr version)

So beyond work getting hectic from January to March, which was the catalyst for everything getting wacky, I experienced a weird emotional turn that I wasn't expecting. It made me get a little introspective, which I blame some of my productivity slump on.

As I was finishing up the Bangathon entries, I noticed a sharp decline in interaction. I'm a fairly young fic writer on Tumblr, but I was a little baffled as to why stories I'd posted only a week before got a nice bit of interaction yet the newer ones were only getting half to a quarter of what I expected. For a minute I thought I had been shadowbanned (I was not) or I hadn't tagged the posts (I had) or my taglists weren't working (they were). People were already talking about interaction being lower, so I sat back and tried to go with the flow and not let it bother me. I posted Decoherence, which has a more niche audience, but I was definitely missing and wishing for some of the comments and reblogs I thought I might get.

All this led up to one of the least favorite voices in my head saying something that stuck around:

"Well, you were right not to become a writer if your motivation is this closely tied to feedback."

If you're new here or I haven't talked about it much recently, I initially was planning to be a writer. Went to school for it and everything. While I was there I felt like I hadn't found the stories I wanted to tell yet. My colleagues were developing in their niches and writing "the great American novel" and I didn't feel like I fit in. My stories had a lukewarm reception, and I never felt like anyone was excited about anything I was trying to say. So I wrote myself into burnout by the time I graduated with not much to show for it. I ended up doing a career switch, which I love to this day, but I stopped writing for almost 10 years.

Coming to Tumblr, I felt that spark of excitement writing again, and some of that was definitely due to people commenting and being excited or interested in the stories I was sharing. That truly revived something in me I thought was long gone, and reflecting back on the last two years that I've been sharing stories with this community makes me wildly emotional. I didn't know how much I missed of the life I left behind, and how much joy it brought me to share stories again.

Which is why it was SUPREMELY FRUSTRATING to have that shitty little voice pulverize my productivity and excitement over something as silly as interaction. But I'm sure most of you know how hard it is to get that voice out of your head. I worked to write things I found fun and less stressful than the series I already felt bad for not updating. And while I still love those stories, it felt like I was pulling them from an inauthentic place and finishing them wasn't as satisfying as I'd hoped.

Thus the hiatus! I stopped writing and turned my attentions to consuming and creating in other ways. I watched some shows I'd been meaning to catch up on, started planning to buy a house, worked my butt off at the day job. And I was starting to feel like inspiration was coming back. I didn't want to spook it so I took my time and promised myself I was going to start small and not stress about getting stories out for a bit.

Top that off with some medical surprises, an upcoming surgery, and a little re-evaluation of life moving forward and things have been wild. But I've been missing the daily joy I get from being part of this fandom, and I'm getting back into being here more because I miss you guys! AND! I have stories I want to share and fun to be had. So let's shake off all the heavy shit and get to the fun stuff!

WHAT'S NEXT!

The big thing I'm getting ready to post (after teasing it for so long) is the 2024 Bangathon! This one is different from last year's because instead of requesting stories from me, the Bangathon is open to anyone who wants to participate! There will be a randomizer to play with, and some fun bonuses for those who participate. The announcement will be coming out soon, stay tuned!

As for fics, here are some updates on what's in my WIPs:

Series:

I Think of You: I spent some time rewatching Mando for the newest installment, and I've finally gotten the thread of where to go next thought out. It's been a long time coming so this one's gonna be BEEFY to make up for it.

SW!Frankie: I am crushed to realize it's been over a year since I posted any SW!Frankie! I've got a new story about him and Ms J moving in together I need to finish, then some more asks that are getting into new story arcs I'm excited to share!

Best Laid Plans: Dieter and Murch's first date is bouncing around in my head and I NEED to get it on paper. There's much fun to be had, and I've been binge listening to my playlist for them to get into the headspace.

Midnight Alley: I got all up in my own head about continuing the story with these two and lost a little steam, so I'm going to ease off my "big plans" and start smaller with some oneshots instead. I think it'll help me find out where I want this story to go.

One Shots in Progress:

Decoherence Follow-Up

Incubus!Dieter Ask

You know, laying it out like that makes it feel much more manageable than my brain was telling me! I'm also planning to prioritize more fic reading while I'm getting these updates in ship-shape. Reading your stories always helps get my creative juices flowing, and there are so many good ones lingering in my TBR list that I need to devour.

This has been a rollercoaster of emotions, so thank you for coming on the ride with me. I'm excited to bring more of myself back to Tumblr and have fun with all of you again! To many more stories!

#prolix wips #I'm sorry I've been away for so long!#but I'm back!#if there are things I missed please tag me or send them!#I want to read all your stories!

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uriekukistan · 2 days

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aita for abducting my nephew’s boyfriend and using his body as a vessel?

i (1000+M) was minding my own business as a set of 20 cursed preserved fingers when some brat (15M) ate one of my fingers to save his friend (15M). i tried to make him my vessel, but he resisted, and ended up being more of a cage than anything. i also realized later that he was also my nephew, but i’ll get to that in a bit.

i was getting pretty bored in there, since he wouldn’t let me out to massacre local populations, even after eating another one of my fingers, but then i got my opportunity. he asked me for help defeating a powerful curse, so i took advantage of his pathetic state to get out and wreak havoc in the world. i ripped his heart out (literally) for good measure so he couldn’t come back without dying, but that idiot came back anyway and died.

while i was wreaking havoc though, i found out that his little friend had a really cool jujutsu technique! i thought he would be an interesting opponent, but he wasn’t really using it as well as i thought he would :/ i thought it was kinda unfair that he got to have such a cool technique when i could use it better and especially since i’m stuck in this brat’s body who has no technique, so i cooked up a plan to get my hands on it and brought the brat back to life.

some time later, i got the opportunity to massacre civilians again. well, technically, i was exorcising a disaster grade curse i guess. massacring civilians was just an added bonus. well, the brat didn’t take that very well and was saying all this shit about wanting to die, which i thought was kinda ungrateful, since i saved both his life and the life of his boyfriend. granted, i had ulterior motives for both, but still!

anyway, he somehow figured out that i had a plan for his boyfriend, and he started running away with his half brother (150M). i was especially worried that i lost my chance when this guy (17M) briefly killed my nephew, but he brought him back to life.

one thing i’ve never understood is love, so i was a bit confused, but relieved, when my nephew’s boyfriend found him and managed to persuade him to help him out with some game my frenemy (1000+X) set up. some super nauseating bullshit about saving him and not being selfish blah blah blah.

i bet a lot of you are wondering how this 15 year old brat is my nephew when i’m 1000 years old, so since i brought up my frenemy, i should just tell you they’re a bit of a weirdo. basically, when i was in the womb, i consumed my twin to survive, but their soul still existed in the universe. somehow, my frenemy got their hands on his soul, and when he was reincarnated a thousand years later, he took over the body of his wife and had a son with him. that’s my nephew. i think they did it just to spite me, but they also helped me cheat death by becoming a curse, so i can’t complain too much.

back to the main point, i finally got my hands on my nephew’s boyfriend and made him my new vessel. i was right! his technique was sick! and the look on that brat’s face was priceless!

it took me a while to break my nephew’s boyfriend down enough to use his body and technique effectively, but it was kind of entertaining to watch, and now i can move freely! the only problem is now i have all these sorcerers swarming around me like flies trying to defeat me, and it’s getting a bit frustrating, if not tiring. every time i think i take one out, another one shows up, or they just stand back up.

they all seem seem pretty mad at me. i’m not really sure why. first, it’s the right of the strong to prey on the weak. second, it’s not my fault that my nephew wouldn’t just be a good vessel and let me massacre civilians, and it’s also not my fault that his boyfriend had a cool technique. i think i did what anyone would do in this situation. aita?

#this was so hard to write actually #way harder than the kenjaku one #especially bc i dont think megumi wasted his potential !! he's just 15 and learning #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #sukuna #ryomen sukuna #yuji itadori #itadori yuji #yuuji itadori #itadori yuuji #kenjaku #megumi fushiguro #fushiguro megumi

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slackerlifewhere · 2 days

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What Kim Rok Soo probably thinks about Cale Henituse

Okay, so I mentioned that I'm rereading the first part now so I can finally read the second part of the novel.

While reading, I noticed how calm and normal Kim Rok Soo is about Cale. Like yeah, he finds him amusing and interesting, but coming from a man who has read five volumes and notices (and remembers) every little detail about it, it makes me wonder what he truly thinks about Cale Henituse.

[✋Possible SPOILERS for the first part of TCF ✋]

As I reread the story in the first few chapters, despite how little Cale Henituse's importance is in The Birth of a Hero or how few his appearances are since it focuses on Choi Han's adventure, Kim Rok Soo somehow describes moments that make Cale look like trash but it's like he understands why the noble was like that before they switched bodies (except for the Harris village since he didn't know about that until OG Cale mentions it).

Like think about it. We all know KRS grew up with his abusive uncle. He knows how bad it is to live with an alcoholic but he doesn't judge Cale's antics when he's "drunk". We also know that he's been alone most of his life so he probably thinks that Cale is just a lonely person because of his reputation.

Guessing that there are some assholes during the apocalypse (I haven't read the side stories yet but I can guess), he probably thinks that Cale is more complex than what he shows in the books because he has seen the worst kind of people that makes Cale look like a normal person. After switching bodies, Venion, White Star, Arm, and Adin are definitely 1000% worse than Cale.

Kim Rok Soo is very sharp when it comes to understanding people. He understands Choi Han and Alberu's problems and understands the trauma the kids went through. He also understands how corrupt nobles and priests are and doesn't judge Mary and the Dark Elves all because of a stupid religion. He understands how hard it was for Lock during the war and was comforting about it his own weird way.

He's a perceptive and understanding person.

Although he's incredibly bad at judging himself, he's good at judging a person through their motives and actions. It's why he somehow befriends Toonka and Bud. It's why he became allies with Hannah and Fredo. It's why he quietly listens to DHB later on. He understands people and it's why people like and trust him.

In short, he knows that there's something more than what the books say about Cale Henituse.

It's kind of the reason why it made me pause a bit when he finally meets OG Cale.

Their conversation was so calm, it's as if they knew each other for a very long time instead of just literally a few minutes ago. He easily accepted what OG Cale has to say about his mother and his new life as Kim Rok Soo and he trusts him with his former team. Like I've mentioned before in my other post, he's happy for both of them because they're both content with their new lives despite their regrets in their last lives.

Cale looked at Kim Rok Soo, who was laughing and making gestures that he would never have made, and nonchalantly added on.

“I guess you’ve really been happy.”

He recalled the moment he met with Lee Soo Hyuk and got the ‘Embrace’ ability.

Lee Soo Hyuk had handed Cale the ability and told him about the real Cale Henituse as he disappeared.

‘Oh, by the way, the original owner of your body is living well too. He’s happy. That is why Jung Soo, I, and everybody is happy.’

Kim Rok Soo had a bright smile that suited a twenty-year-old person and not someone in his mid-thirties.

- Chapter 656: Everything can be connected

I'm guessing that when he read the parts about Cale throwing bottles at a random asshole in the books, he probably thought that he might do the same thing. Remember how badly he reacted when he learned about the slaves being sent to the Empire? He basically used the same tactic but instead of throwing the bottle at someone, he drank a lot because of how pissed he was and made it look like the "trash" he is while waiting for everyone's signal.

He even has some thoughts about how annoyed he is whenever the knights or butlers would flinch away since he knows Cale never tried to actually harm them. And he knows about Cale's troubles with the staff back home in the Henituse territory.

So yeah, it's pretty sweet in a way that Cale Henituse has someone who kind of understands him and won't judge him for his actions even though Kim Rok Soo doesn't know everything about him because of the books (like his conversation with Basen).

“It looks like you will need to struggle a little longer, but anyway, live well. Please take care of my family.”

“Please take care of my team members.”

Both men let go of each other’s hand with a small amount of sorrow visible in their eyes.

- Chapter 657: Everything can be connected

#tcf #tcf cale #tcf manhwa #tcf novel #cale henituse #lcf cale #tcf cale henituse #lcf #lcf manhwa #lout of the count’s family #trash of the count's family #kim rok soo #kim roksu #lcf novel #tcf spoilers

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thephantomcasebook · 2 days

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Do you think HOTD could be canceled with Season 3? I mean, today was quite a day with these leaks and not so pleasant statements haha

Eh ...

Probably not.

"House of the Dragon" is one of MAX's flagship shows for their streaming service. They've put a lot of money into it both in budget and marketing.

I do think that this season will be the start of diminishing returns and that a lot of people won't be thrilled with it, but I think the majority of the audience will give Season 3 a chance.

There seems to be a rather pervasive sense of arrogance by writers and creators that adapt ASoIaF projects that they eventually get really get up their own asses. And I feel that Season 1 being as big of a hit as it was, was probably a really bad thing for the creative team here. Just from interviews and the things people have said, Condal is already getting a big head and acting as if he's bullet proof. Basically, he thinks that he and Hess can put anything up they want on screen and people will watch it and eat it up.

But my point is that there is huge structural flaw in HOTD that is about to come crashing down. And that's there is no story symmetry to the plot. They've basically wasted a bunch of time and are about to waste more of it. Writing wise, there is absolutely no reason to spend as much time as we are about to on Daemon at Harrenhal nor Rhaena claiming a dragon. They've wasted so much time in fact that they've had to leave out key characters till Season 3 - Daeron being the biggest.

Condal came out recently and said that Daeron is a major and important character in the future. But the problem is that when they introduce him in Season 3 - if the rumors are wrong that he's going to be introduced stealthily in Season 2 as major player in the Harrenhal Plot - we've gotten no time with Daeron and his siblings, or most importantly Alicent.

Daeron's relationship with Alicent and Criston is important, very important. Because not only are they his parents, the people who raised him, but he is Alicent's favorite child - favorite person in the world - and the massacre at Tumblestone was partially carried out because the Starks put Criston's head on the main Royal Standard at the Battle which pissed off Daeron to a murderous rage.

Daeron's entire character motivation is Alicent, loving her, wanting to rescue her no matter the cost - physically or morally, and they've never shared a scene together.

How are you going to convey all of the weight of Daeron wanting his mommy back, avenging the only father he's ever known, and being loyal to Aegon to a fault - rejecting the crown when basically all Westeros wants him to be King - when you're introducing him without him ever sharing a scene with Alicent and Criston, nor any of his siblings.

You've wasted so much time fucking around that the story symmetry is fucked.

So, no, I don't think they'll cancel HOTD before Season 3, but I predict that a lot of people are going to start seeing the cracks in the foundation by the end of it. And I predict that rather than pivot, Condal and Hess will attack the fans.

I think Season 2 will leave a bad taste in a lot of people's mouths, judging by the leaks and some of the inside stuff people have told me.

#House of the Dragon #Daeron Targaryen #Daeron the Daring #Ryan Condal #Sara Hess #Alicent Hightower #Criston Cole #Alicole

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museaway · 17 hours

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As requested, here's how I trained myself to wash the dishes pretty much daily.

Dishes and laundry have always felt insurmountable to me. It's probably because they never end. I live alone and I don't have a dishwasher, so I have to do the dishes whether I like it or not. I would much, much rather watch YouTube than do chores, so here's how I get around that.

(It's long so I'll put it behind a cut.)

Disclaimer: What works for me might not work for you. We all have different lives and situations. Take what works for you and leave the rest.

Solution #1: Make it low commitment

Sometimes I look at the sink and think, "I have to wash all of these?? It's going to take FOREVER. I'll do it tomorrow."

On those days, I challenge myself to wash dishes for the length of one song. It doesn't matter how many dishes I wash, just that I wash them for as long as the song plays!

Sometimes the song will finish and I'll feel up to washing for just one more. Usually, I end up listening to three or four and clean the whole sink. But if the song ends and I want to go do something else, I'm allowed to.

Try working up to multiple times a day.

Make a playlist with songs that make you feel energized! I use anime OPs because they're loud and fun to sing to.

Be gentle with yourself. If you washed one cup, that's great! That's a clean cup! That's one more clean cup than you had one song ago.

You're taking care of yourself by doing this. Really, it's a great kindness you're doing yourself and your family by cleaning something! You deserve to be taken care of!

This method also works with putting away folded laundry. If you don't want to use music, set a timer. Work for 3 minutes and stop.

Solution #2: Gamify it

When I have a little more energy, the goal changes:

"Can I clear the sink before this song ends?"

"Can I wash all of these within three songs?"

"Can I wash this cup before the chorus?"

This technique really motivates me. I tend to focus and work efficiently since I'm trying to beat the song. If I don't make it, I usually give myself another song or two. It's rare that I stop until the sink is clear.

Whether you beat the song or not, you've washed a bunch of stuff, so you win either way!

This technique also works for putting sheets on the bed, dusting, taking the trash out ("can I get back before the song stops??"), etc. Timers can replace music here too.

Solution #3: Use a habit tracker

The above solutions got me to stop leaving dishes in the sink for three days, but I was still leaving them overnight. To train myself to wash the dishes every single day, I made it a nightly chore for a solid month.

I used a habit tracker so that I got to check it off every day! I love checklists, so this was terribly satisfying.

I've tried a slew of habit trackers and hate all of them except for this one by TheFor. It's simple, has color coding, supports habit-based goals (like dish washing 7 days a week, or sweeping the deck once a week), and displays an overview so that you can check if you missed any days! Free on the Apple and Play stores. This isn't sponsored; I'm just a fan.

It took a month for my new habit to form, but it did! I'll now go wash the dishes when I see them in the sink, although I still use the first two solutions to keep it from feeling like a chore again.

Hand-washing tips:

Dish gloves will save your hands! Get a pair you like

I like a wooden dish brush with a replaceable head

I think it helps to like the scent of your dish soap

Get big, easy-to-clean things out of the way first. They take up a huge amount of room in the sink and make the situation look worse than it really is. Think colanders, cookie sheets, the pot you only boiled water in.

Wash things in categories. For example, I like to wash all of the mugs at once. It seems to go faster that way.

Leave the hardest-to-clean stuff for last so it can soak.

Paring down my mug collection sincerely helped the mug overload. Maybe put spares in a drawer for a while.

Sing while you work

Here's my dish washing playlist

#sharing life hacks #muse in real life

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bananakeiky · 2 days

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This isn't about Hoyo I just needed to vomit some AFTG thoughts into a public space and I just finished ToS and I'm rabid. I have no idea how many of y'all even read this series but spoilers. And trigger warnings. Anyways.

Okay what the fuck ever the thing about ToS isn't just about of the extra trigger warnings and things that made me wanna throw up and cry at the same time. It's about how horribly, tragically awful it is that Jean is full of so much love. He always has been. It's not just haha what a pansexual no. Jean craves affection so fucking much. He's weak to pretty people and devastated by kind people. He clung to Kevin. He clung to Renee. He even clung to Thea, who affectionately called him Paris as he trailed her like a little duckling. He spits and rages and claws at them all, calling them every rabid name in the dictionary and beyond. He has a laundry list of insults for Neil, who freed him, one of the only people he truly trusts. It's just that he never expects it back. He never wants it back because it hurts so much worse when it's gone. People hurt him when it's gone. He says "I can take it" and "this is normal" because he would burn if he couldn't.

This is why he rejects the Trojans. Every "don't you see" and "why do you look away" is well-meaning but twice as hurtful because accepting it would mean Jean didn't hurt because he deserved it. Without that crutch it means he suffered for nothing. He hurt for nothing. Accepting it would mean that Jean would have to open up and fully comprehend the absolute horrors that were done not just to his life but to his personhood. To him. He was a child and a victim and he deserved to be saved and no one did. Not until it was too late. All of those years after being sold by his parents, yearning, aching to be loved by somebody and used as a toy and a scapegoat in return by anyone who touched him. Love is painful. Trust is painful. And Jean will love and love and love until it kills him and he knows it.

But this is why Kevin sent him to the Trojans. They may not understand survival and suffering the way the Foxes do, but they're genuine. They may be misguided with some of their efforts and need to take time learning how Jean works but they try and try and keep trying. They understand their own faults and healthy coping mechanisms and how to treat your worst enemies with respect. Hell, nearly the entirety of Jeremy's inner circle are in queer relationships with each other except for himself because he's too busy thinking about other people to work on that. This is what Jean needs to learn, that people can give without asking for anything in return. That people can be selfless and care for one another without ulterior motives. That love can be healthy and beautiful and not cruel.

And listen. I've been rooting for Jerejean for eight goddamn years. You have no idea how hard I fell when I realized that the ship that embodies the entire idea of healing, self-growth, and respect had been actualized and it's everything I ever wanted and more. The fact that Jeremy helps Jean buy his very first possession. The fact that he's so protective of Jean and thinks he's more important than exy, that Jean will be his success story. When he holds his hands and begs him to open up and backs off when Jean needs space, but never leaves and never gives up. How he spends so much time organizing people and schedules and events just so Jean can feel safe walking around campus. He never pushes too hard, but he never stops pushing. He's so patient. He wants Jean. He wants him so bad, but more than that, he wants Jean to love himself above all else. He's there when Jean has a panic attack at the pool, and sticks around as close as he can after Jean gets attacked. He stays up by the door all night when Jean goes out with Neil to an unknown location. All of this on top of revitalizing the Trojans, dealing with his shit family and the shittier rumors, having to train Jean out of killing his team and teaching his team to trust Jean in return.

Even after all of that his number one priority is always Jean, his head is filled with Jean, making the world comfortable and safe for Jean. It's making sure all of his friends know Jean. Never letting Jean be alone. Getting another twin bed so he can room with him. Always correcting himself, slowing down and speeding up so he can match Jean's pace. Fucking Barkbark. And yes, Renee could have done this too. She was the right person, and yes, the wrong time. But Jeremy found Jean at the right time, a time where he would dedicate everything to Jean. And if Jean one day turns around and wants to give that back, he'll be there, but he'll be just as happy knowing Jean is going to be okay.

ToS is a story about healing. It's about growth and battling the consequences of a life you did not choose. It's about unfairness. It's about what happens after a tragedy, and how to cope with yourself as much as you cope with the outside world. It's about becoming. It's about demons. It's about loyalty. It's about love. It's not about romance. Not yet. But it's about a romance that couldn't exist without it. It's setting up a story about someone who learns to accept that, tragically, he deserves to be treated like a human being. With love. And that he can still have it. That it's right there, waiting for him, when he's ready. He just has to reach out and take it.

#i cant believe its been EIGHT FUCKIG YEARS since i was part of this fandom #nana talks #the sunshine court #jerejean #jean moreau #jeremy knox #i know this blog is primarily hoyo but like #consider this my official aftg propoganda #and also my obligatory PLEASE READ ANY WARNINGS BEFORE READING IT #may delete this later #THE WAY MY HEART SUNK WHEN I REALIZED 20% IN THAT THERE WAS NO WAY THIS COULD BE A STANDALONE

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chaos-in-deepspace · 24 hours

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Driving With The LADS | Crack

So for some unknown reason, people are terrified of being in the same car as me when I'm driving. It's an enigma since I'm an amazing driver. With that being said, I decided to write this with some of my favorite (and common) driving maneuvers alongside how the LADs react to it. These are all taking place in a four person car (because I can't drive a motorcycle...yet).

Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+. Warnings: Bad Driving (Apparently)

Blog Information | Masterlist

Xavier

It wasn't often that you and Xavier were in the same car together. Normally you guys would just be walking everywhere, or take a taxi. In certain circumstances, he would just teleport the two of you. So this was a bit of a treat. Xavier had readily allowed you to drive the two of you around so he could possibly take a nap on the way to your destination.

It had been a straight shot for literal miles as you relaxed in the driver's seat, one hand on the steering wheel and the other fumbling with the music. It wasn't very busy at the moment on the road, so you weren't paying a crazy amount of attention; the car was even on cruise control.

Then you had to make a turn up ahead. Xavier had been dozing off in the passenger seat next to you, occasionally his eyes fluttering open when he heard you cursing under your breath about the bad drivers around you.

He was pretty relaxed with you around the wheel...until that first turn. You were going about 70mph and slowed down only a little bit as you made the sharp turn. Xavier's entire body went flying for a moment from how harsh it was. He gripped onto the handle above his chair and looked at you.

"What was that, did something happen?" The blonde was now fully awake as he asked this.

"Oh don't worry, I just made a turn." You said as you approached the next turn, doing the same thing. Xavier was thankfully still grasping the safety handle so he didn't go flying into you this time. He still looked terrified.

"Don't you think we should slow down for those turns?" He asked, swallowing the lump of anxiety in his throat. How had he never noticed how terrifying you were when driving? Your completely relaxed demeanor was simply a lie as the demon in you surfaced.

You turned over and gave him a confused look, "Why should I? I'm saving on gas." You pointed out. Xavier's jaw dropped a bit as he slowly regained himself.

"Saving...gas?"

"Ya, if you don't stop that much, you don't have to accelerate as much. You save on gas. It's simple." You said, making another sharp turn and Xavier had to bite his tongue to not make a noise.

"Hey, perhaps I should drive us the rest of the way." He finally offered, wondering when you could pull over.

"Nah, I'm good. You go back to sleep."

"I insist."

Zayne

Zayne was used to driving you around, it was one of his favorite things actually. Knowing you were safe in the passenger's seat and he could make sure you arrived at your destination without a hitch. He did have another motivation for being the driver, however.

It was the fact that Caleb ratted you out about being a bad driver.

It had been a conversation in passing. Caleb and Zayne didn't talk as often as they did as children, but on occasion they'd meet up. When you got your driver's license, Caleb had been with you. He told Zayne about your...terrifying antics on the road. Zayne knew it had been years since that, and you surly had gotten better from a new, teenaged driver. He still didn't want to press his luck.

That was until you forced him to let you drive. You two were going on a small road trip and Zayne ended up staying at the hospital all night and barely had gotten to the apartment when it was time to leave. You told him he just needed to sleep and you'd drive the first leg of the journey.

He was far too tired at that point to even argue, allowing you to take the keys to his car. It wasn't until two hours later that he woke up to your grumbling. A car behind you was trying to get around you, even driving right on your ass and pissing you off.

You, being petty, decided to drive your car at the same exact speed as two semi trucks on either side of you, keeping pace so the fucker behind you couldn't get around. You were grumbling the entire time about how he was an impatient fucker and Zayne sighed.

"You know it's not worth it, just let him get around you and we won't have to worry about seeing him again." He tried convincing you, but you were too far gone.

"Absolutely not. This is a battle of persistence, and I will prevail. Fucker isn't getting around me. I was literally already speeding." You said, as you continued at your relaxed pace. The car behind you was still on your ass, and you briefly saw them flipping you off.

"Oh this fucker did not just flip me off." You gasped, looking in the rear view mirror.

Zayne called your name out in warning, seeing the feral look in your eyes.

"Imma break check this whore." You finally said, making Zayne jolt up.

"Don't." Not only was Zayne worried about his car, but at the speed and how you were sandwiched between two semis...it wouldn't end well.

"He flipped me off, Zayne."

"Which isn't worth dying over."

"Mhm debatable."

Zayne just sighed and you watched the car get behind one of the semis now and you chuckled. That semi was passing you up slowly so you decided to continue keeping pace with it. Zayne sighed, looking at your antics. If he had known you'd spend the next two hours fighting another car, he wouldn't just sucked it up and drove.

At least you guys didn't die by the time the other car got off on an exit.

Rafayel

Rafayel was more than happy to be the passenger princess at first. He had nice cars and you had begged him to let you drive since normally he was the one behind the wheel. He was surprised, thinking about how a lot of people hated driving, which is why he defaulted to doing so with you.

So he happily sat down in the passenger seat of his nice sports car while you got in the driver's seat. Rafayel was planning on just scrolling through his phone to find things to do with you the entire drive. You had planned on visiting the next town over so it was a three hour drive, just so you could try a new seafood place. Surly there were more things there than just food though.

The large screen of his car showed a map as the GPS directed you to where you needed to go. You lazily drove, your eyes glancing around and checking your speed. The car could go fast and you fully intended on testing it out later, whether Raf liked it or not.

You turned the music up a bit, enjoying the tunes as you continued down the road. The scenery was beautiful as you took the route that went right past the ocean. You were enjoying it so much that you had spaced out just a bit during the drive.

Rafayel glanced over at the GPS, watching as it was telling you to turn in a few feet. He cleared his throat, getting your attention.

"Yes, baby girl?" You asked and he flushed at the nickname before speaking up.

"You realize we're supposed to be turning right here." Rafayel said as he pointed to the road. "If i had known you'd be so spacy while driving I might've reconsidered your offer." He teased.

You snorted as you saw the turn, "We can still make it." You said with a large grin on your face.

Rafayel didn't know why his blood suddenly ran a bit cold at that announcement, "Wha-AAAAH!" Rafayel's hand went to grasp the "Oh shit" bar as you slammed on the breaks and made the turn. The screeching of the tires was alarming and you could hear a car horn blaring behind you from the angry driver you had unintentionally break checked.

Rafayel had screamed as you made the turn in one piece, the car shifting back as you began driving like you didn't just do that. His heart was pounding in his chest as he turned to you.

"What was that?" He asked frantically, "Are you trying to kill me? I know I ate the last of the seaweed snacks, but this is uncalled for!"

"You did what?" You said and turned to him. Rafayel sucked his lips together, his mouth forming a perfect line as he realized his accidental confession.

"Mister, you're buying me more when we get to the town."

"If we make it there alive..."

"What was that?

"Nothing!"

If anyone was curious, yes these are all things I have literally done while driving...more than once. But I swear I'm safe about it. You can trust me to drive you. Just don't listen to my best friend. She once had a heart attack on the Highway as I literally did what I wrote in Zayne's. Two hours. Two hours of making sure that bitch couldn't pass me. The power I had then...I miss it.

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