#and i have so many more of them to go next chapter

[grandline-fics]

Immune To Your Charms

DESCRIPTION: Soulmates are incapable of harming the other in any way. Normally that would be a good thing but not when you're meant to be enemies.

WARNINGS: It's Doflamingo so he's his own warning. Don't read if he's not someone you enjoy reading fics about. Slight depictions of injury/death. Some hurt-comfort. Enemies to Lovers. Soulmate! AU

CHARACTERS: Doflamingo

WORDS: 3,984

A/N: April's a rough month for me and I haven't had much creative energy if I'm being honest. Between life, work, and personal stuff writing sadly gets set to the side more than I'd like it to be. I know I have requests and the Valentines Event to finish but I don't want to force those out just to have them done. I want to take my time and post what I'm proud to have written and thank you all for your patience with those. Needed some Doffy to try and get things going again and help me out of my slump. Thank you all for the love and support, hopefully you like this chapter. The next one will be the party. Enjoy ♥️

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST | KO-FI

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight | Chapter Nine | Chapter Ten | Chapter Eleven | Chapter Twelve | Chapter Thirteen | Chapter Fourteen | Chapter Fifteen | Chapter Sixteen(here) | Chapter Seventeen (coming soon)

——————

Doflamingo knew Dressrosa would be in safe hands with those in his family staying behind while he was gone. Long stretches of time away were rare but he always made sure nothing was left to chance in his absence. Counting in the time to get there, attend, and return he would be gone for nearly two weeks so he needed to settle preparations with the kingdom and his many other operations and work needed before departing. His subordinates and servants knew their daily tasks and duties and the higher ranking members were all given a fair share of additional responsibilities, everyone knowing that should anything be lacking on his return, all would suffer the consequences together. Finalising the last of the necessary details, Doflamingo rose from his desk and left the office, walking straight for the dining room. As he neared the room he heard Dellinger speak up. “So what time do you set sail?”

“First thing in the morning.” You looked up at the sound of Doflamingo’s voice answering the question that had been directed at Diamanté. With his usual chuckle and a building grin he added. “So those of you attending, make sure you get a good night’s rest because if you aren’t at the ship in time we’ll leave you behind.”

“Even me?” You asked as he slid into his seat beside you. You tried your best to look as innocently concerned about the prospect of being left behind even though it was because of you Doflamingo had even entertained the notion of attending this ordeal in the first place. 

“I’ll drag you out of your bed personally.” Doflamingo answered with a grin when a challenging glint shone in your eyes.

“Hey, hey Doffy!” Trebol spoke up, leaning forward toward his King, getting as close as he possibly could and as always with with no regard for anyone’s personal space. You continued to eat, glad you were on the other side of Doflamingo and safe from Trebol’s overbearing reach. “Why are you going so far away this time?”

“Yes I was curious about that too.” Lao G added. “Is there something special out there? Are you planning something else while you’re away?”

“If something important was being planned it wouldn’t be so spontaneous and more of us would be going too.” Gladius argued, prompting more voices to join the conversation and theorise the reasoning behind this trip away to an event they knew their King tended to avoid as much as possible. 

As they spoke amongst themselves you contented yourself to just enjoying your meal while also idly wondering what this event was going to be like. Beside you, Doflamingo had also said nothing to stop or encourage the current conversation, simply letting them be. After a while some became bored of trying to work out Doflamingo’s motivations behind his actions -as they normally did- and drifted into other discussions. Suddenly Baby 5 let out a gasp and she looked to Doflamingo with widened eyes and small blush dusting her cheeks. “D-doffy! Could it be your wedding?!”

Silence fell over the table among the family immediately. Some looked to Baby 5 first in silent fury, her overly romantic mind could be the cause they lose their heads because they get caught in the crossfire of angering their young master with her wistful and disrespectful question. Then again, they were all suddenly hit with the consideration that she may have been onto something. It made more sense than anything else they could have come up with so far. So they all looked to the top of the table where you and Doflamingo sat. Together you both looked at the other and immediately burst into laughter like this was the best joke you’d heard all week. Because that was the only way the both of you would even consider Baby 5’s words. It was ridiculous. At least it was to the two of you, everyone else on the other hand silently regarded you both and began to wonder if the time away was going to lead to any further developments between the two soulmates.

————

The Numancia Flamingo was definitely a sight to behold. You hadn’t been entirely sure what you’d been expecting before finally seeing and boarding the ship but when you did it was definitely the only thing you found that would suit Doflamingo. Had you put any thought into imagining the vessel it would have paled in comparison to the real thing. Truthfully it didn’t really matter on looks, it could have been a dingy little tugboat for all you cared because all that mattered now was getting to be on a ship again for the first time in months. 

You stood leaning against the railing and let your eyes slide closed as you felt Dressrosa’s summer heat recede back and the cool sea breeze began to pick up and wash over your face. You took a long, relaxed breath and gave a small hum. Opening your eyes you turned around, casually bracing your hands on the railing and watched Doflamingo approach. You said nothing as he came to a stop beside you but you did catch Diamanté, Baby 5, and Gladius standing on the other side of the deck, watching with expressions of varied levels of curiosity. Since this was only day on of the journey you braced yourself for this being the calm, anticipating their behaviour to heighten over the days at sea. “You look peaceful. You miss being out on the water that much?”

“Can you blame me for feeling a little nostalgic?” You asked with a small smile, looking to Doflamingo as he adjusted his position to still lean by the railing but also face you. “The last time I was on a ship was when my unit docked to begin our mission on observing your little enterprise at the warehouse.”

“How long were you stationed there until I showed up?” Doflamingo asked with a grin, the memory of your dazed and pained face lit by the warehouse fire realise he was the one your unit had unknowingly been pursuing flashing in his mind. Even then on the brink of passing out and accepting of your fate you’d been stubbornly defiant. 

“Nearly two months.” You explained, your smile lessening slightly. You were used to the routine tedium of keeping a low profile, watching for all activity, obeying the orders given on jobs like those but now that you thought on it and given that it was the last mission you’d ever have you couldn’t help but feel conflicted about it all. You thought fondly of your friends while also missing them but then would be hit with guilt. Did you even deserve to miss them when you were sitting and talking so comfortably with the man who was the reason they were all dead and gone. Quickly you cleared your throat and to distract yourself you added.  “Now that I think about it, I suppose I was on a ship after that, right? To get to Dressrosa.”

“We didn’t sail. I carried you back while you were unconscious and used my strings to get back.” At Doflamingo’s words you tilted your head in slight confusion. At the time you’d never questioned how you’d gotten to Dressrosa. For one thing, you were certain you weren’t going to be alive much longer and that you’d woken to Doflamingo demanding to know how he couldn’t hurt you if didn’t give you much time to think about it beyond using logic to fill in the gaps.

“Being away from Dressrosa for so long is a bit of a hassle isn’t it?” You asked, his words now bringing a new thought to you. You couldn’t believe it but you were now beginning to share Trebol's curiosity from the night before. “Why did you pick this event to go to? You get countless invitations. I’m sure there were many a lot closer to home.”

“I don’t know why, this one seemed the most interesting.” Doflamingo shrugged casually, not making a comment on how you’d inadvertently called Dressrosa ‘home’ and also chose to ignore the feeling that it brought him. “Didn’t look at the location until you agreed to go.”

“Still I wouldn't have minded if we went somewhere closer.” You explained before smirking. “They're all the same right?”

“Right but it’ll be interesting to see you navigate this as a guest.”

“I’ll have to be careful though, won't get away with half the stuff I normally do will I?” You grinned playfully. “Also means I have to behave around you too. Guess I should practice my ‘yes King Doffy’s and ‘anything you say, young master’s on the way.” For emphasis you straightened up to give him your best attempt at an exaggerated bow fitting his title.

“As much as I loved that display, you don't need to worry about doing that in front of anyone. Just be yourself. It’s not like they can do anything to you if you annoy them anyway.”

“Not worried I could be a target of those ‘clumsy assassinations’ you told me about?”

“When they see you’re with me they’ll know to leave you alone.” Doflamingo’s voice took on a hard edge, the threat of what would happen clear, not that it needed clarifying further. You saw how furious he was when a mere servant opened a door against your face by accident. The bloodbath and Doflamingo’s ferocity that would come should someone else try to kill you when that was his goal didn’t bear thinking about. Strangely you didn’t feel fear from him when he was like this, you never did. While you wanted to avoid as much unnecessary violence or death as possible, you knew Doflamingo would do as he wished.

————

The members of the Doflamingo family on the ship had begun to become more observant when it came to you and their ruler. Most of the time back on Dressrosa you tended to keep to yourself up until recent events took place so there were things they were only noticing or getting to see now. When they had watched Doflamingo approach, you turned without him even making a noise. Whatever it had been you were discussing it seemed relaxed enough but what caught their attention the most had been how close you both stood to each other and how you and Doflamingo looked solely on the other’s face as you talked. Even more interesting was how neither of your called attention or seemed to notice that Doflamingo’s hand was over yours for the conversation and that your finger was curled around one of his. 

Now they all sat in the ship’s lounge, relaxing after their dinner. Just as they would back in Dressrosa’s palace, they all settled into their own spots and contented themselves with idle chatter, a drink, and something to occupy them until they eventually would decide to go to bed for the night. Doflamingo took up most of one of the sofas all by himself, stretched out comfortably with a drink in one hand and the other draped over the back of his seat. Lazily he would twitch and arch his finger to move the chess pieces on the board between him and Diamanté who sat opposite him. 

You were the last to come into the room, having stopped by your room to grab a book. Entering you were already reading and immediately walked to the sofa Doflamingo was sprawled out on. You wordlessly dropped down onto the seat without checking if any space had been made for you, which to the silent surprise of the rest of the family there had been. The second you’d made your move, Doflamingo remained focused on the game while lounging but had adjusted his leg in time to make room for you to comfortably settle against the cushions and his side. With your back against him, you turned the page, continuing to read while Doflamingo made his next move in his game with Diamanté, neither of you uttering a word to each other. Both of you seemed completely unaware of how effortlessly domestic and cosy it all seemed but it practically slapped the others in the face. Part of them wanted to make a comment, even a light, teasing one but held back, unsure how either of you would take it. With the other members of the family back home depending on them to bring back all the juicy details, they didn’t want to risk ruining things by pointing out the unconscious moments between two of you especially on the first day. 

————

“Your family have been staring a lot today.” You noted as you climbed into the bed you’d be sharing with Doflamingo for the duration of the trip. It had already been mentioned and while you’d both slept in each other’s presence before, you couldn't help but realise this was the first time it was happening without you being sick or sleep deprived. Still you found no issue in it deep down, it just meant another slight shift in things was happening between you and Doflamingo. “Are they expecting something to happen?”

“Like what?” Doflamingo asked with a chuckle, his family hadn’t exactly been subtle with their observations but even he couldn’t work out what was suddenly so interesting. 

“I dunno, they’re your responsibility so you tell me.” You shrugged with a yawn as Doflamingo switched off the light. 

“Sometimes they’re a mystery even to me. They’ll get bored and move on to something else, they always do.” Doflamingo explained and you nodded.

Ultimately it didn’t matter what it was that had them acting stranger than normal. Whatever their motivations they were going to continue until what they were waiting for did or didn’t happen. Anything was possible in their imaginations, Baby 5’s ridiculous suggestion that Doflamingo and you were going to marry on this trip was proof of that. As long as they didn’t get too in your face about it, you were happy to just let them continue as they were. Besides you were too tired to give them anymore thought. With another yawn, this one deeper and longer than the last you lay back more and felt yourself fall over to sleep, carried there by the sounds of waves hitting against the side of the ship. It had been so long since you’d fallen asleep to the familiar sound and given your earlier conversation with the man asleep next to you, it was no wonder that your mind conjured the images that it did for your dreams. 

It started pleasant enough. You were sat around a table with your unit sharing a meal, talking and laughing without any cares or worries. Then the laughter slowed and an almighty explosion came from the centre of the table, hurtling your body backwards through the air and plunging you into the coldest and darkest waters. You struggled and clawed with all your might to fight your way out of the depths but your limbs felt heavier and heavier with no sign of the surface in sight. Finally hands broke through the surface and hauled you from the water. You slumped onto the floor and took a few steadying breaths.

Lifting your head to thank your saviour you froze with the words lodged in your throat. Your eyes widened as you took in the sight of the young cadet that died in the warehouse explosion but it wasn’t as you knew him. Standing before you now was his burning body, the scorched remnants of his uniform melted to his skin and eyes literally ablaze as he looked down at you in fury, with laboured, crackling breaths smoke bled from his parted mouth. “Traitor.” You flinched at the low, agonising voice he now spoke with. “You’re a traitor.”

Numbly you sat cold and horrified, unable to speak. Trembling you could only stare helplessly at the cadet and shake your head. Suddenly he was behind you, charred and burning fingers clawing into your skull and forcing you to look forward. Against the fires of the destroyed warehouse debris you were faced with the bloodied and lifeless bodies of the rest of your unit. You didn’t see what had become of them personally but knew they’d died so in this nightmare, your imagination created the worst visions possible. Then they all spoke together, a chorus of haunting accusations. “Traitor.” “You forgot us.” “Dead because of you.” “Sided with the enemy.” “Our blood is on your hands.” “Your fault.” 

Their unseeing eyes blinked and their heads turned your way, their rigid, bloodied hands moving to drag themselves across the space between them and you. While the burning cadet held you firmly in place, the rest of the unit drew closer and closer chanting the chorus of “Your fault” over and over again until they were swarmed on top of you and smothered you. 

With a strangled gasp you bolted upright in the bed, kicking and pushing to try and rid the phantoms from your nightmare away from you but still their touch persistently clung to your skin. You jolted when the most determined phantom grabbed your wrists to stop your thrashing. At the sound of Doflamingo’s deep voice saying your name you blinked through your disoriented panic and swallowed the lump in your throat and tried to calm your rapid breathing. Finally you were able to remind yourself that it had all just been an awful dream and that the images weren't real but as rational as you were it all still had a vicelike grip on you. 

You were pulled forward and Doflamingo adjusted you to settle on his lap. He wrapped his arm around you and settled his other hand on the back of your head, settling you against his chest. Hearing his strong, steady heartbeat finally helped you to relax. Following his breaths as a guide you began to ease and the small shake in your frame settled. For the longest moment you remained against him, your eyes staring at nothing and only focusing on the warmth of Doflamingo’s body against yours. 

With a tired sigh you began to pull out of his hold. Now that you’d calmed from the nightmare you decided to let him get back to sleep. Except you stopped when his grip tightened. Silently Doflamingo lay down and kept you against him. “Aren’t you going to ask?”

“I’m no stranger to nightmares.” Doflamingo told you, his fingers moving against your back in similar motions as you had with him when you proved he needed to relax more. “Only talk about it if you want. Or say nothing at all. It’s your choice.”

“Thanks Doffy.” You murmured, your voice already growing thick and in seconds you were drifting off to sleep in his arms.

————

While the nightmare hadn’t been brought up again and even though it didn’t happen again, the consequences of it were evident. For every night that followed, no matter what position you both settled into the two of you would wake fully rested and in each other’s hold; usually with your head on his chest. As always when it came to anything that could be perceived as soft or tender or actions fuelled by emotion, nothing was said about the sleeping arrangements. If anything, you both would merely convince yourselves it was for your own benefit; simply a way to have a peaceful night's rest and nothing more. For you both this was the best way to handle things, to just continue as you both were without looking deeper.

As you sipped at your morning tea you saw the outline of an island slowly come into view, a tiny dot on the horizon. Still far away but now a sign the first stretch of the trip would be over. So far the plan was to attend the party that evening, stay overnight at the host’s lavish estate and set sail in the next day. The time of your departure would depend solely on the hangovers of Doflamingo and the rest of the crew whose tasks involved sailing the ship back home to Dressrosa. You lifted the invitation again and inspected it curiously. There was no real occasion listed so it was an even greater mystery for what you’d be walking into and had no real way to prepare for it all. Still from what Doflamingo had said, it would be a gathering of people similar to him; those holding great power-most not attained morally- some nobility and even a couple royals or rulers of their own islands, others just so insanely rich they may as well have a crown on their head. Adding in the numbers of each guest’s entourage of supporters, bodyguards and fawning dates to make them look good it was most certainly going to be a large affair. Now a thought came to you that you maybe should have asked sooner. “How are you going to introduce me?”

“By your name, obviously.” Doflamingo smirked as he observed you set the invitation down and let out an unimpressed huff. “What other way am I to introduce you?”

“I meant what's my place here?” You asked with a roll of your eyes. “They’re bound to already know the members of your family and will know I’m not one of them. I don’t think you want these people to know you have a soulmate and even if they didn’t believe you to openly call me your soulmate seems…out of character.”

Doflamingo stared at you hard for a few moments. Quickly he moved passed your first remark and settled instead on the discussion of openly calling you his soulmate. You were right, most of the people who would be at this party only had their uses for what Doflamingo could exploit and manipulate out of them for his own profit or entertainment. They had no need for any private and valuable information about the depths of the connection he had with you. Plus a sinister thought crept into his mind; if it was made public knowledge some fool could try and use you to get to him in an attempt to gain the upper hand on him which was something he wouldn’t allow in any capacity. Still you had his mind spinning in another thought. “They don’t need to know you as anything other than my date, just think of it as the same situation when we dealt with our cheating pirate guests only without killing this time. Also, 'out of character’ how?”

“As far as these people know I’m your date, just some random person you’ve brought along to look nice and stop you from getting bored too easily. You don’t strike me as someone who’d remember a one-time date's name passed the next day, let alone call them something as strong as ‘soulmate’ for a pet-name at a party.”

Doflamingo’s laughter built in his chest at your observation. As to the point as your words were, they weren’t spoken to insult or offend him. They were a genuine statement, and a very clear view of him which had its drawbacks. It felt odd to be so seen by someone like this, to be known in this way. You were right, he cared very little for any previous lover or date’s feelings and their names were at best half-remembered the next morning or when he chose to kick them out of his bed when they’d served their purpose. “So what pet-name can I call you?”

“It’s only for tonight, right?” You asked with a casual shrug while lifting the paper to go back to reading it. “I’ve played the pirate’s lover before, remember? Call me whatever you want and I'll play along.” Doflamingo grinned broader and looked out the window at the island in the distance. Tonight was going to be fun. 

——————————————-

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[indieyuugure]

Quick question

How do you plan your comics? Do you do storyboards or something?

Im trying to get working on one and idk where to start-

I use a mix of a few things.

Typically a sketch ideas and scenes first and then I write them down.

So that scene in Aliens and Mysteries when Raph’s talking to his brothers in bed was a storyboard-style sketch I made:

I make tons of these for both scenes that are just jokes and scenes I plan to incorporate into the story. Usually, when I have a bunch of these and other ideas swirling around in my head, I’ll start sorting them by canon importance and most structurally important, funny, or interesting. Those ones get added and arranged into the chapter list in chronological order like this:

(Note that this is not a comprehensive list of future chapters, many will be renamed, deleted, shifted and/or new ones will be added)

Then about one week to a day before I start drawing the next chapter I write it out in full detail so I don’t get lost mid chapter and know what to include. Here’s the paragraph that the above sketch turned into:

This screen-shot is from the document that contains both important information about the world and every episode in this format.

And then of course, when it comes time for the episode, it turns into this:

I think my planning style is a little…uh, fluid? It’s very common that the actual comic will deviate slightly from the written chapter. This happens most while planning out the panels; I get a bunch of new better ideas for how it should go and add them in. I usually try to keep the written chapter outlines a little on the vague-er side for that reason.

It’s also worth noting that this is the most common way I plan out stories, sometimes steps get mixed up or skipped or just spawn out of nowhere. It’s a disaster, really, but the final product is pretty good so I don’t question it 🤣

Some people prefer a much more concrete approach to writing, others prefer an even less structured approach. All depends on how your creative thrives and where on the scale of ADHD to OCD spectrum you land 😂 (joking)

This is how I do for the most part, hopefully this helps you? I wish you luck in story writing! ^v^

Good question! :]

[drxmxss]

Our Eternal Novel °❀.ೃ࿔*

LADS Xavier x Reader

Summary: A cozy bookstore, a love for classics, a small town, a secret and an eternal promise of forever...What could happen when Y/N meets a stranger at her local bookstore who is not who he seems?

Content Warnings: Vampire! Xavier x Human!Reader, 18+, mentions of murder, missing persons, blood, death, injury, stalking/obsessive tendencies, biting, smut (will have a separate and more descriptive warning when included in chapter), more warnings to be added as the story progresses, maybe some oocness (this is my first xavier fic bare with me) reader discretion advised

a/n: Hello! Here is chapter two!! enjoy!!

Find the masterlist here

Chapter Two - Encounters

Xavier began to visit frequently, taking up any recommendations you gave him. Anytime there was rain, which happened quite often in the rainy town, he was there. For some reason however, if the day was bright and sunny he didn’t show, but you brushed it off. The days blurred together with him. Xavier was reserved, but you enjoyed talking with him about different books and stories you had similar interests in.

You learned that he just recently moved to the city, wanting to look for a fresh start after finishing university. Xavier worked a well paying job from home, which made sense for how many books he could afford to buy weekly. While he was only 24, you felt like he spoke like an old soul. He told you he was an infamous night owl, always finding he read better in the dark. 

While you enjoyed his company, you also found him a little odd. He never ate or drank, despite spending hours in the store, no matter how many times you offered him a coffee or pastry. He also never shook your hand, and you noticed he made an effort to never brush against you accidentally, always keeping a wide distance between you both, even if there were only you two in the store.

“I think he totally has a crush on you, Y/N. Why else would he come almost every day?” Cassidy told you one afternoon Xavier didn’t show. You scoffed, “He’s new to town! He probably just wants some friends.” Cassidy laughed, “You’re so naive sometimes, and I know you like him too! Its so adorable watching you two talk. He needs to hurry up and make a move!”

You felt your face heat up. Was it that obvious? Did Xavier notice everytime you’d stare too long at him, just trying to take in his beauty. Who could blame you though, he was gorgeous.

“Maybe after some time Cass, but don’t embarrass me!” You whispered, making Cassidy laugh.

The next day, a strong thunderstorm shook up the city. 

The bookstore shook with the deep thunder that erupted outside, making the lights flicker. You groaned, today was so gloomy.

“With no reports of another victim of the mysterious attacks in over two weeks, police are working diligently to find the source of these crimes.” Cassidy read the paper to you as you dusted some bookshelves. “Geez Y/N…this is so scary, we have a real life serial killer on the loose!”

“Cassidy I’m already freaked out enough as is, and I saw that in the paper already!” You told her, Cassidy sighed “I’m just worried, what if something happened to you?” You shook your head,”I’m sure they’ll find them soon Cass.”

“Hello? Anyone here?” A familiar voice echoed from the front door, you and Cassidy turned to see Xavier, perfectly dry from the raging storm outside. “We’re over here!” You said, waving him over. As he approached, you noticed he looked different today, maybe a little sick even. He looked paler than usual and his usually bright blue eyes had looked darker.

“Hi Xavier.” Cassidy giggled behind you. “It’s raining a lot outside, what made you decide to make the trip?” You turned to see her eyeing you mischievously.

“Rain doesn’t bother me, plus I needed a new book.” He answered, “What’s on the list today Y/N?” Cassidy giggled behind you again, making you fight the urge to roll your eyes at her.

“Our shipment came in yesterday, I haven’t put everything out yet, let me go see if I can find you something.” You told him, walking to the storage room.

Lines of labelled boxes with various novels filled the storage room, you went to the box you hadn’t labelled and pulled out a book.

Dracula by Bram Stoker, and in a fancy red leather binding too! This would be perfect, you thought and it’s a classic.

As you walked back to the shelves where Cassidy and Xavier stood you began to hear their conversation.

“You live alone? Well you need to be careful. Have you been hearing those reports about those missing people? I keep telling Y/N it could be some kind of murderer!” Cassidy told him, Xavier just shrugged, “No, I don't pay much attention to the news.”

“Cass, stop trying to scare everyone.” You interrupted, “Xavier will be fine, I will be fine just give it a rest!” You told her sharply, to which she just sighed.

“Fine, I guess you’re right. Anyways, what do you have there?” She asked, pointing towards the red leather book in your hand.

“Xavier’s next story,” You replied with a smile, turning to face him. “It’s a new edition of one of the classics!” You said cheerfully putting the book in his waiting hands. Cassidy peeked over your shoulder to see his reaction, side eyeing you.

You saw Xavier read the title and he seemed to stiffen, and clenched the book in his hands.

“Dracula….interesting.” He said in a low voice, making you raise an eyebrow. You exchange a quick glance with Cassidy before clearing your throat, ���Yeah, rebound with red leather, I thought it looked nice and you did say you like classical fiction.”

Xavier looked up from the book and stared at you coldly again, like the first day he was here, but his words didn’t match his expression. “No.. it’s great, I just..” Suddenly, he started to stumble back. Instinctively you grabbed his wrist to help him regain his balance.

Touching his skin made you gasp, it was ice cold.

“Xavier are you alright?” You asked, “You’re freezing do you need a cup of-”

“Don’t touch me!” Xavier snapped, ripping his wrist out of your grip, making you gasp again. Cassidy stepped in front of you then, “Hey you don’t need to snap like that, she was just making sure you were okay.” Xavier narrowed his eyes at her, suddenly looking angry. But like a switch was flipped, his expression softened.

“I-I’m sorry, I’m not feeling well. Here.” He handed you the book back. “I need to go home, I’ll come get this another day.” Xavier began to walk away but you quickly handed him the book again, “No here, this one’s on me today. Just get well soon, okay?”

Xavier barely nodded, and without a word exited the store into the pouring rain outside.

You let out an exasperated sigh, “What the hell was all that about you suppose?” You asked Cassidy, who shrugged in response.

“No idea, maybe classic horror makes him sick?”

*

As you walk to the bus home after work, you can’t shake the uneasy feeling you have in your gut. Why would Xavier lash out like that over a book? Did you offend him somehow? A million thoughts race in your head. As the bus makes it way down your street you try to watch the rain beat against the window to distract your mind.

Exhausted, you head up to your apartment, eager to try and sleep your worries off.

*

A loud crash of thunder wakes you suddenly, making you sit upright in bed, your heart beating fast in your chest. Drowsy, you walk to the kitchen for a glass of water when something strange catches your eye.

You walk to pick up a book off the coffee table that wasn’t there before, and your stomach drops.

Dracula. In the red leather binding.

Like you gave Xavier.

Before your mind can even think to respond, you feel two cold arms wrap around you tightly, and you feel a warm breath on your neck.

“Look who woke up.” An all too familiar voice whispered in your ear, “I was starting to worry I’d have to wake you myself.”

“Xavier?” You whispered, afraid to speak normally, one of the cold arms gripped your waist tighter. You try to turn your face to be met with the same dark blue eyes from earlier. What was he doing here?! 

You gasp, and before you can scream, his cold hand is over your mouth. You cry out behind it, but his grip tightens, and his breath fans over your neck again making you shiver. “Shhhh, don’t be scared. It’ll be over soon okay? Don’t worry.” He says in a sickly sweet voice. You cried out and thrashed against him, he let out a low growl and suddenly you were shoved against your living room wall.

Xavier, still pressing his hand against your mouth, pressed all his body weight against you, making you whimper. His blue eyes glowed fiercely in the darkness as he stared into yours. Slowly he leaned down and you felt his teeth graze ever so softly against your throat. Tears wet your cheeks as you struggled against him, your heart nearly bursting with fear.

“I’m sorry it had to be this way, Y/N. You just smell amazing. I’ll be quick, but this might pinch a little.” Xavier whispered into your ear, and you felt razor sharp teeth rip into your jugular. 

You couldn’t scream or move. You were paralyzed instantly, feeling like your energy was being torn away from you, Xavier’s hand dropped from your mouth to grip your jaw. He pulled you impossibly closer, you tried to scream out, but only small gasps managed to escape. 

Slowly, your vision blurred. He’s killing me, you thought, this is it.

As you begin to succumb to the darkness, you feel Xavier pull away from you, and you feel yourself slump to the floor.

Right before you finally close your eyes, you see Xavier’s bright blue ones staring into yours, his face and mouth covered in blood.

a/n: the end.....nah but stay tuned for chapter three! what do you think is gonna happen?

[furinfry]

WBK Chapter 178 Spoilers

Oh my god, the way this page is going to be circulating through my brain for at LEAST until the next chapter comes out. The fact that Sakura's reaction to hearing mention of him potentially becoming the top of Furin now is shock and... worry? fear? Like he wasn't expecting to hear it mentioned he might become the top of Furin down the line. The way I'm rattling at the bars to hear Sakura speak what's on his mind!!! I also think it's interesting and important to note that we're specifically given him watching Umemiya and Takiishi fight when he grows quiet as the others talk about him becoming the top dog of Bofurin.

This is when Endo speaks towards his perspective of Ume being "a passionate and extremely selfish bastard". When he sees Sakura make that expression on the far left, He speculates that it is because Sakura feels distant, leagues away from meeting Umemiya as an equal.

I do think it is primarily Sakura thinking there's no way he would be able to actually replace Umemiya and everything that Umemiya is. And! I think it is more that just Sakura seeing Umemiya as a really strong fighter. Endo called Ume selfish and that was baffling to Sakura, because everything Umemiya does is for his 'family'- the Makochi, Furin, everyone who previously lived in fear or felt alone or otherwise abandoned. But it really is a matter of perspective. Take Sakura thinking about what Tsubaki and Hiragi said about their time fighting to change Furin while Endo is talking

To some, yeah this might actually make Umemiya look like an asshole of a leader who doesn't look or care for the people fighting at his side. It might look like him not paying attention to the danger he's putting them in in order for him to get his dream. But obviously that's not actually the case, and Endo himself knows he's a bad judge of character. Umemiya trusted Tsubaki and Hiragi. The same way Tsubaki and everyone else believed in Sakura and agreed to leave fighting Endo to him. It wasn't out of indifference that Umemiya left the four kings to those insane fights, it was because he knew no matter what happened, he could trust that they would all see each other on the other end of the fight. He knew they were capable of handling those situations, and lauded praise and joy on them after their fights for putting their strength behind him to help him see his dream come true. To adopt his dream as their own.

But I think this does bring up another reason why the thought of being the top of Furin is giving Sakura pause now. Because Sakura hears of how everyone around Umemiya gave that spot to Umemiya. And I think Sakura is seeing and realizing that his classmates are doing the same for him. The problem he may see in this however lies in that I'm not sure Sakura thinks he has a worthy enough goal for once he is at the top. He has stated what his new goal is (no longer just wanting to be the strongest) and that's to protect as many people as possible.

I can't find the chapter where he's talking to someone or a group of people and directly states it out loud, and in doing so he calls it childish/naïve. He knows this is what he wants now, more than just becoming strong. But, I think it's also important how he might think this dream compares to Umemiya's when he took the top spot.

Sakura is seeing his own dream as childish and ridiculous and holding it up to what Umemiya's dream was and everything that goes into keeping it a reality. This poor boy is under so much agonizing stress trying to handle the pressure he feels just trying to be a good class captain and trying to do his part in keeping Umemiya's dream together, that he can possibly imagine being the top. He thinks their dreams, their abilities, are so far from being equal. While I don't think he agreed, I think to a certain extent Sakura could see what Endo was saying when he said to be the top of Furin, to have your dream adopted by everyone else, is selfish. And what's the problem there? Well, Sakura can't be selfish. He could never bring himself to be selfish. Why?

He still does not value himself. He doesn't see the things he wants as worthy to impose upon others. He doesn't see himself as amazing, or a good leader, or someone who could burn with enough fire to keep Furin burning bright.

SAKURA BY GOD WE ARE GOING TO GET YOU SOME SELF WORTH

[reesereadsalot]

𝐹𝒶𝒸𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒜𝓇𝑒𝓃𝒶

previous chapter - next chapter

Pairings: Finnick x fem!reader

Warnings: check series masterlist

Desc: Your 7 months pregnant with Finnicks baby. When your the happiest you were in your life, your whole world comes crashing down. You were reaped for the 3rd Quarter Quell.

Credits: dividers by @cafekitsune

｡𖦹°‧masterlist

Boggs sets up round the clock watch on you and Peeta. He took away both of your guns. It’s annoying. Especially when they sit down to eat and Ronan starts crying. Everyone suppresses groans and complaints. He was already changed earlier so the one thing he needed was food. But of course as you leave to you and Finnick’s tent someone follows you.

“Excuse me. I’m doing something.” You snap to the person behind you.

“We’re supposed to watch you around the clock.” You turn around to see who said that and you see Leeg 1. Leeg 2 had died earlier that day because the Holo didn’t detect a pod. She was impaled.

“Well, I guess you can watch me.” You say chuckling at your own joke but Leeg 1 stays serious. “Sorry about your sister.” You say to her as you unclip your bra and Ronan begins to feed.

“Not your fault.” She says to you.

“Well,” you begin “It’s unfortunate that she passed. I know nobody has really offered you words of condolences. Anyway, I’m not trying to pity you.” You explain.

She just hums in response. When you’re done with feeding Ronan you go back out and eat dinner. Around midnight Katniss and Peeta get talking. You have a hand on Ronan’s belly as he lays back down on your tent floor. You are half asleep so you ignore it. Until Finnick talks.

“Then you should ask, Peeta. That’s what Y/N does.” Finnick says. It catches your attention but you continue to pretend to be asleep.

You know what he’s talking about. You have asked him several questions since you got back whats been real or not. It’s been confusing but you are adapting. You fall asleep at the memory of Finnick telling you how long you were in the Capitol for. You cried in his arms that night.

You all crunch through the streets of broken glass. You do your best to keep Ronan quiet. You’re about to shoot propos. You all look at the Holo to see many pods in the street. This is just some of them.

“Action!” Cressida calls as we all make our way down the street.

Gale has been assigned the job to shoot a pod. When he shoots it you cover Ronan’s ears. You all duck for cover as bullets shoot at you. After a while, Boggs orders you forward. Cressida wants to film more propos so the group acts. They film shots of them falling to the ground, grimacing and diving into alcoves. There’s a shot of you diving and turning on your back to protect Ronan. The group starts laughing at some of the attempts of acting that people on this Squad are doing. You all laugh as Ronan giggles for no apparent reason.

Boggs reprimands the group. “Pull it together, Four-Five-One,” he says firmly.

He suppresses a smile. He looks at the Holo to double check where the next pod is. Positioning it to find the best light. He makes a step. He triggers a bomb that blows off his legs.

It was a split second change. Laughter turned to screams of panic. Blood stains the pastel stones. Real smoke comes up.

The explosion leaves your ears ringing as Finnick shields you and Ronan away from the explosion. Ronan starts sobbing and panic ensues.

Katniss finds Boggs and looks around frantically for what you presume to be the Holo. They try to tourniquet the wounds. The squad gathers around them in a protective formation. Finnick goes to try to revive Mesalla. Jackson barks into a field communicator and is unsuccessful in alerting the camp to send medics. You can tell Boggs is going to die and so can Katniss. The squad tries to remain hopeful but he’s lost to much blood. Boggs hands Katniss the Holo as she resets it to follow her commands.

“Prepare to retreat!” Jackson hollers.

Finnick leads you to the end of the block and gestures for the squad to follow. You try desperately to calm down Ronan but nothing works. Black, oily liquid spouts from a geyser from the street. You realize we can’t go back the way we came.

Gale and Leeg 1 shoot the path across the stones. Another bomb ten yards away detonates, opening a whole in the street. Ronan’s screeches get louder and you can’t take it anymore. You kneel down and try to sing Ronan to sleep but nothing works. You begin to sob as you see Katniss, who is carrying Boggs get pulled down by Peeta. Finnick comes to you.

“Listen to me, we have to get out of here. Do you want Ronan to live or die?” Finnick asks you.

“Live.” you say standing up.

“Okay, hold my hand we will get out of this together.” Finnick says grabbing your hand.

Mitchell tackles Peeta to get him off of Katniss. Peeta launches Mitchell farther down the block. A pod triggers. Four cables fly into Mitchell, dragging up the net that encases him. You gasp at the sight.

Castor and Pollux manage to restrain Peeta as Gale and Leeg 1 shoot through the front door lock of the corner building. They then begin to try to help Mitchell. You know he is beyond saving though.

Katniss drags Boggs into an apartment. The squad enters it. The front door slams and people shout. Ronan is still shrieking.

A black wave roars past the building. Noxious tar smell permeates the air. Castor and Poliux carry in Peeta as Jackson puts him in handcuffs. It only makes him wilder. They lock him in a closet and you seethe with rage. How could they do that? Finnick drags in Mesalla. You bend down and throw up at the smell. Everyone stumbles in coughing.

“Fumes!” Gale yells.

Castor and Pollux grab whatever cloth they can find to stuff the cracks as Gale throws up. You can’t stop another round of bile from coming out of you. Peeta tries desperately to escape the closet but his energy dies down.

“He’s gone?” Finnick asks Katniss and that’s when you notice the dead body. You throw up once again. Katniss nods.

Katniss and Jackson have a fight over the Holo. Boggs had decided to give it to her. You all figure out you need to get out of the building. Finnick is by your side rubbing your lower back. You don’t pay attention to the arguing you just try to stop Ronan’s crying. Eventually he does because you show him your butterfly necklace that was tucked inside your armor. You habd him to Finnick to hold while you get situated. Then you remember Peeta. Stuck in the closet.

“Let him out of the closet!” You say heading over to the closet interrupting any conversation going on. “You think you’re helping him?”.

Homes grabs a hold of you. You try to get out of his hold but he just grabs you tighter.

“Let go!” You say as you feel him wrap his arms around your stomach tighter. You panic. What if he’s hurting the baby? Before you can think about it, you speak. “Let me go! I’m pregnant!” You gasp as the words come out.

You slap a hand over your mouth. Homes drops you and you land on the floor with a thud. Tears well in your eyes. Finnick comes up to comfort you. Everyone is staring at you.

“I’m sorry Finnick, I’m so, so sorry.” You cry.

“Hey Y/N, it’s okay, it’s okay.” He says wiping your tears. “We have to leave. Now. We will talk about this later, okay?” You just nod and Homes pulls Peeta over his shoulder. You tie the cloth around you and sit Ronan in it.

You place your mask on and put Ronan’s mask on. You fix Peeta’s mask too. Then, you all begin your journey into the black goo.

Part 11

[daemyra-fire]

How needy Nick was for love in this chapter, how much he needed June and even though she stayed and she really wanted to know what was wrong with him, he was in a very bad place with the stupid commander.

He invited her to stay at his house and wanted her for himself, even the next day the only thing he thought about was running away with her and leaving everything behind.

And I understand that June is sometimes very selfish but please she literally melted for Nick, when he told her to stay she decided to stay, when he arrived saying that they should go to Paris and be a family, she was willing to leave, in the same flashback she tells him that even without Gilead she would love him.

So no matter how selfish she is, she still loves him and I feel that when they say no she puts Nick first it is because she knows that he is capable of surviving on his own more than the others so she prioritizes the rescue of others, over Nick.

Now the real problem is the betrayal, does that affect many people? Of course it started with Lawrence, but all he did was survive. Wharton is crazy and we could see it when he exploded in anger. Nick gave him something that he knew wouldn't endanger June, and that's always been his priority. It was ugly, of course! But the commander already knew that he killed the boy in the hospital, and he had to maintain his trust so that he wouldn't send him to the wall.

June will be upset about it, of course everyone in her position would be, is that why she stopped loving Nick? I don't think so, I think she might separate them and obviously not go with him but that doesn't mean their relationship is dead, the girl was willing to leave everything for him and she more than anyone knows that in Gilead there are times where you play the bad guy. I don't think she understands it now and more if she doesn't hear the reason why he did it, if she doesn't know about the hospital or what Wharton means but I think that with time she might understand.

What bothers me is that this happens 4 chapters before the end, this should have happened in season 5 or before, giving us the idea that they are not going to be together is the stupidest idea the directors and writers have had, because those two move the show, Nick is the favorite of the majority, why torture the fans like this before the end? Don't they want people to see the testaments?

but well I still believe that they will end up together, I feel that Nick would still give his life for June and she would see it, like when he found out that she worked for soj and nothing happened, survival and attacking Gilead is now more important, I also doubt that June is with Luke even if she is not with Nick, because all season we have seen that their relationship is dead, that they only stay together for Hannah and that is not even enough so if it is not with Nick she will be alone. everything except with Luke.

so my hopes are still standing, despite this "betrayal" they both love each other and more than once June has been reckless and more than once Nick has given her up to protect her and help her, so let's hope that it develops well and that they give us a decent ending for both of them, they said in the promotion that it's a season for the fans and that we will like the ending, so I doubt that they don't know that the fandom loves Nick and June together, when their networks are full of messages from Nick and June end game, lol 🤣 I don't think they are that blind, so let's keep the faith that this will be solved one way or another.💖

[dark-lord-of-awesomeness]

*gets out clipboard* okay so the runes in PS I assume work like single word sigils correct? (A lot of sigils are phrases like the one burned into Stan’s back!) Symbols that stand for more complex ideas. IRL sigils can be made many ways, when you decide what runes look like for the fic do you follow your intuition for what shape you feel fits best? Do you draw inspiration from Norse runes or Ogham? Also! When Stan’s spells get more complicated is he still going to use circles like wizards? Or will his runs combining look more like putting the runes together (like mashing them into one symbol)? A lot of the circle with symbols around it magic falls into ceremonial magic which makes sense give the structure wizards have that you laid out.

So when Stan’s spells get more complicated is the way that he combines runes going to be completely different from the circle? (If this is a spoiler you don’t have to answer)

Correct, they tend to encompass the entirety of whatever they represent. So the wind rune manages everything that you can think of that has to do with air/wind, such as breezes, tornados, smells, and even sounds. There are runes that only stand for one specific thing, such as only meaning breeze, but those are mostly used by other casters that need to convey what they want through sentences and don't use their imagination like how a sorcerer would.

I have a mental idea of what ever rune looks like, some inspired by actual runes (such as the growth one looking similar to the norse rune algiz) others are purely vibe based, such as break and wind being a broken mountain and an angular swirl. I only have a handful figured out right now, which are the ones Stan's going to be learning in the next few chapters.

Stan's spells aren't going to get any more complex then they already are here. A sorcerer's advantage is that they can pour their own personal magic reserve into whatever they cast and are only limited by their imagination for how they use their runes, but the disadvantage is they can't string them together. Stan can pack a punch, but loses the versatility that a wizard or witch might have. He can 'upgrade' his runes into a higher tier, such as going from 'wind' to 'move' or 'water' to 'liquid' that will let him do more, but he can't combine them. All his spells are limited into what he can imagine them doing and how well they fit the rune itself. So he could use the 'break' rune to cut a rock in half, but he couldn't use it to make a statue unless he imagined that being the 'broken' form of a rock, if that makes sense. It can't be used for creating things (but there is a creation rune, and the look incredibly similar).

Stan wouldnt use a circle really, as it kind of defeats the purpose of being a sorcerer (since he can already convey his meaning through feelings to what he want magic to do) and involves a lot more rune knowledge then he would know instinctively. Its formal vs informal, in that he's in a chill loose relationship with magic, and using circles is the formal stiff way to talk to it. The only reason he'd use one is if Ford drew it out first and he was being used as a power source, which would be witchcraft and not wizardry.

The way Stan gets more powerful here is by learning more and more runes. The more he knows, the more he can do, vs Ford learning all the runes from books and stringing them into sentences, learning more complex sentence structure to get more complex spells.

[sphacelating]

i genuinely want to scream. the game ( the coffin of andy and leyley ) impacted me. it's so freaking depressing to imagine the pain of andrew and ashley endured for years under neglect, mainly when they've been abandoned. do you think it's possible to heal them with therapy and psychatry ? what do you think nemlei will reveal in the next chapter ?

i talked about this in a reply to an ask a while ago, mainly based on my own experiences in the mental healthcare system with the absurd amount of trauma i have and the depressing truth for many is that therapy and psychiatry cannot fix a brain that didn’t develop right for shit. the damage is very much neurological, as in shows up on a brain scan, it’s not just cognitive distortion and cognitive bias where you can redirect bad thought patterns, retrain your brain to let go of maladaptive associations and behaviors and utilize adaptive strategies.

it’s reduced thickness in the prefrontal cortex, it’s smaller hippocampal volume, it’s underdeveloped receptors, and so on. therapy cannot fix these defects. when your brain is fully developed already, the foundation is rotten. an intervention in childhood can reverse this to an extent— the brain is still malleable in, say, an eight year old. an adult brain is not.

you have to build everything you become on top of that foundation. imagine it as a house abandoned and unfinished, if you will, fuck if i know, it’s the best analogy i’ve got. you’ll always be that person, but you can certainly grow and become way more than the incomplete traumatized individual your childhood left you with.

so. do i think this is possible for andrew and ashley? i know it is considering i have done the work and been through that hell myself and grown into a way more functional and well-adjusted adult than i was. the twenty five or so therapists that have picked my brain through most of my life sure as hell didn’t do that. i chose to do the work and grow as a person. my wife and i dodged our splat and shots routes because we wanted to build a life together rather than be the end of each other. if it wasn’t for her, god knows where i’d still be.

if you cannot tell, i love my wife.

as for what nemlei will reveal, i prefer to not speculate too much as i have frankly no idea. @sunshine-jesse may be more equipped than i am to answer that question, as she has plenty of interesting theories.

[daydreamingoncloud9]

Nagi Seishiro: A Divergent Path

Spoilers for Chapters 1, 2, 117, 147, 254, 280, 281, 295, 298, 299 & 300 of Blue Lock and Chapters 2, 3 & 4 of Blue Lock: Episode Nagi.

Similar to my last post on Nagi & Reo, this post is also not necessarily a shipping post, but because I do ship nagireo, it might colour my analysis on them, so fair warning. »»————- ⳮⷤ ── ⲇ ── ⳮⷤ ————-««

With the release of the new chapters, I wanted to bring up an interesting parallel I noticed that helps strengthen the theory that Nagi and Reo's journey together will not end here. In fact, I think this parallel just helps to cement that they will continue to diverge from the rest, even with this recent failure.

To start, I think it is beneficial to establish that Nagi and Isagi are meant to be foils in the story and they often have scenes that parallel each other in key ways.

Many others have already pointed these parallels out before, but for argument's sake, I will list some of them down regardless.

Isagi's ego flaring after he shoots on his own vs Nagi's ego flaring after he sees Reo

2. Isagi being the first to enter Blue Lock vs Nagi (& Reo) being the last

3. isagi scoring the final goal of the U-20 match vs Nagi scoring the first goal

4. Isagi being classified as a "world-style" talented learner vs Nagi who is classified as a "self-style" genius

5. And most recently, Isagi who was at the top of the winners' bracket vs Nagi who was at the top of the losers' bracket

Even their designs are meant to be foils of each other wherein Isagi is short (relatively), has a weaker physical build and a darker colour palette vs Nagi's who's tall, has a stronger physical build and a lighter colour palette.

There are surely plenty more parallels you can find throughout the series, but with this, I hope that I manage to successfully establish that there is a pattern going on and this makes the next parallel I'm going to draw up quite interesting.

So!

Going back to the Blue Lock Entrance Test, I want to zoom in on what Ego considers to be "the egotism of a striker".

The idea that in this instance, a striker is someone who "tries to defeat someone stronger than themselves", "goes after the strongest one" and has an "obsession with their own victory which can't be swayed by others' common sense" is fascinating because it describes both Bachira and Isagi, yes, but it also describes someone who ended up losing despite following that doctrine: Nameoka Ryo.

In these few pages alone, we can see that Nameoka fulfills all the criteria of the "striker" that Ego is looking for. Not only is he purposefully going after the people who he perceives as the strongest, he is doing so despite it being seen as rather illogical because of the risk that he is willingly undertaking by focusing on no one else but Nagi and Reo.

Now you can argue that this definition of a striker's "egoism" is rather shallow because the idea has evolved and expanded over the course of the story, and yes I agree. But in the context of these specific scenes, we are being told that this way of playing is the "correct" way because of how it aligns with Ego's words (whose words are often law). Therefore, Nameoka, in these scenes, is considered the "ideal striker".

So what does it mean when the "ideal striker" loses?

In my opinion, having Nameoka lose, and making it so that Nagi is the one that causes him to lose is a purposeful narrative decision to help support the idea that ultimately, despite being in opposition to Isagi's route and therefore against Ego's ideals, Nagi's (and Reo's) path is valid.

Even the fact that Reo was saved by Nagi here is relevant because of how it supports the validity of their divergent path.

Circling back to Kira's elimination for a second, we see that Ego condemns Kira because when the ball hit him, he "gave up and accepted his defeat" and in his eyes, this is what it means to "run away" from the egotism of a striker and that is why he lost.

And what is interesting here is Kira's acceptance of defeat parallels Reo's acceptance of defeat. Notice that just like Kira, Reo was prematurely thinking about his defeat under the hands of another player (Zantetsu) and was blind to the options that he had after being hit.

This is why the "5 seconds" timer was placed behind Reo as it illustrates how he had turned his back on other options except defeat even though there was plenty of time for him to think of a back-up plan, especially considering how Reo had significantly more time than Kira did (1 second vs 5 seconds).

If we were to follow the original scenario, this would have been the end of Reo and consequently, the end of Nagi and Reo's joint path, but Nagi literally interrupts this narrative and denies its unfolding.

And not only does he deny it, he also manuevers The Egoist's plot device (the ball) to eliminate Ego's "ideal striker", cementing the fact that their path, while divergent from Ego's, is a valid path to take because it succeeds.

I think we have to question why Kaneshiro-sensei and Nomura-sensei felt that it was important for Nameoka (again, the "ideal striker) to be eliminated after Nagi reaffirms his determination to stay with Reo (and therefore reaffirming their partnership) and after Reo is shown to have run away from a striker's egoism.

I truly believe it is to showcase that Nagi and Reo's partnership and joint path, despite all the ups and downs, will prevail and even succeed in usurping the "ideal" egoists in the end.

It's just a matter of looking at all the options and not admitting defeat.

[sabraeal]

If the Mind Is Willing, Chapter 3

[Read on AO3]

Part three of 500 Follower prizes @bubblesthemonsterartist​ earned herself years ago! Only two more and I will have fulfilled all those fics...probably just in time to have a 1K follower raffle

Blue light washes her pink sheets pale, until it’s impossible to tell when cotton ends and her skin begins. The shadows pull longer in its glow, turning her own nearly skeletal as she reaches out a finger, hovering over the link.

“U-J-Kyo?” Chizuru’s mouth wraps around each letter, the sound of them tumbling softly into the muted glow. “But that’s just...?”

The university’s homepage. And her laptop’s, technically, now that Yamazaki helped her set it. Not something she’d normally associate with Souji’s interests, not unless he’s started some new hostilities with the provost’s office again. Their last open letter hung on the fridge until just before Thanksgiving, the second paragraph asking for “certain individuals in the student body“ to “show more conduct becoming of an undergraduate of a prestigious institution” highlighted proudly in lime green.

Dean Kondo dropped by the house only a few days later-- for a friendly visit, he’d said, smile as warm as she remembered. He’d stayed for dinner, complimenting the soup she’d made from their leftovers, and then talked with Souji out on the porch until the swing’s chains started to creak. The letter disappeared the next morning, unremarked, though Souji kept glowering at the bare metal every time he passed through the kitchen.

Chizuru swipes tentatively at the screen, messaging app blooming beneath her finger. The link’s innocuous, known, but Souji has a gift for slipping a sting into any handshake. And if he’s calling it a gift, well--

[ToudouDomination] omg holy shit dude nice knowing u hijikatas gonna kill u 4 sure 💀💀

Professor Hijikata’s taught her enough about Trojans to take that kind of present at face value.

[✨💯GAINS💪💪✨] *skullfuck u mean skullfuck ull b the most beautiful corpse at ur funeral bro

Her lips press tight, clinging to each other as close as the rubber case to her phone. If everyone’s acting like this about it, it’s better that she doesn’t look.

[ToudouDomination] MY funeral???!! what’s this got to do with me??!!

[✨💯GAINS💪💪✨] nah man im not talking ab YOU im talking ab dead man walking over here

She’d regret it if she did, probably.

[Dr 💖💋🤭] jfc I’ll say somethign nice at you’re disciplinery hearing

[ToudouDomination] Me??

[Dr 💖💋🤭] No one’s talking about you Heisuke

It’s an accident, really. Her thumb skims up the side of the screen-- scrolling past the sudden influx of skull and fire emojis the boys heave into the chat-- and the pad of it just barely brushes the link. It flashes under the pressure, blue then purple, selected, and well...

There’s no harm in just letting it happen, is there? It’s only the university homepage, nothing--

Ah. That’s what it should be at least. But instead of the azure and white, there’s text curling across the screen, a half dozen different hand-written poems in blue bic and college rule, tiled across every inch of the background. There’s coffee stains on them too, some in the corner, and some in rings, like they were more used to being coasters than literature. And in the center of it all--

“Oh.” She blinks, tilting her screen to get a better view. “A video?”

Hogyoku Open Mic, it reads at one corner, reflection on water. A strange choice for Souji; he’s never mentioned an interest in poetry, let alone live readings. Frowning, Chizuru tilts her phone, letting the video fill the screen.

It plays, and oh, several things become clear, all at once.

“My heart is pure,” the man on screen promises, words raking over the gravel of his voice-- how little of it there is marks his age more than the lack of lines on his face-- but Chizuru’s isn’t, not when she can’t do much more than stare, fingers numb around the rubber case. “I use my palm as an inkstone.”

The camera pans closer, and yes, above that black dress shirt-- open to its third button, oh goodness gracious-- is Hijikata. Not the one she knows now, the grizzled professor who kicks his feet up on the desk and uses profanity as punctuation, but--

But a much younger man, not much older than her, considering the last little bastions of baby fat clinging to his cheekbones.

[Dr 💖💋🤭] This muts be a hundred pakcs of cigs ago

[✨💯GAINS💪💪✨] 💯

[ToudouDomination] do moths feel desire or is that like a poetic thing he talks about rain a lot too whats that all ab

[✨💯GAINS💪💪✨] its a sex thing

[Dr 💖💋🤭] Shin don’t tell the baby taht

[✨💯GAINS💪💪✨] hes a growing boy he has to learn sometime better he hears it from us hijikata fucks 🍑🍆🍑

[Saito.Hajime] Can I please be removed from this group? Also, congratulations, Souji, on finding a new, creative way to die

[✨💯GAINS💪💪✨] no way if we all have to think think about hijikata fucking u have to suffer too

[Saito.Hajime] I am not certain I care for that logic

[Dr 💖💋🤭] Too bad, bud. Your stukc with us

[✨💯GAINS💪💪✨] yeah bro u signed the housing contract ur here til death comes for u or like u move out or smthn

Chizuru means to stop the video, really she does. It’s not something Hijikata would want them to see-- at least, she assumes so, considering the way he flushes every time Souji brings up his graduate school slam jams, threatening to expel him if he doesn’t ‘shut his damn mouth.’

But the one on the screen smiles as he finishes his set, smouldering out past the stage lights, and she-- she expects snapping, some cool cats with shades and berets nodding their heads to his truth or whatever mood this is supposed to give. A respectful silence, one that gives space to the idea he’s introduced to the space, but instead--

Instead there’s screams. A full audience of women-- and a few particularly enthusiastic men-- loudly voicing their appreciation for what she’s hoping is the poetry.

Ah, maybe Shinpachi is right. It is a sex thing. And she’s watched a full ten minutes of it.

Hijikata can never know. Or worse--

[Susumu Yamazaki] Take this down. Now.

[( ⓛ ω ⓛ *)] eat my ass

Her heart ricochets around her rib cage, panicked, before it lodges itself in her throat. It flutters there, queasily, and-- and there’s no way he could possibly know, but still, guilt seizes her. She shouldn’t have looked, not once she knew. She should have been the first to say it was wrong. Helpers can only help when they know there is a problem, that’s what Father would have said. If you cannot perceive it then you are part of it.

She could say something now. Her hand squeezes tight around the case. No, she should say something now. She has to, because father will ask. She’ll tell him about this frantic midnight showdown, and he’ll say, and what did you say?

And if it is nothing...

[Susumu Yamazaki] Take it down now. Or I will get university IT involved.

[( ⓛ ω ⓛ *)] you don’t have the fucking balls

[Susumu Yamazaki] Try me.

Even with her eyes closed, her failure is inescapable. The words flash behind her eyelids, no longer composed of ones and zeros but scrawled in neon lights instead, reminding her that if she were better she could have fixed this. That if she were good enough, she could have found the magic phrase to get them all to get along. But instead...

Silence, that’s what he’ll give her. A long pause where all his expectations weigh on her, piling on her chest like boulders on a criminal. A cluck of his tongue, and a soft, I thought I raised you better. Any moment now, her phone will ring, and Father will know what a disappointment she is because--

It’s Christmas. Just about everywhere but Hawaii. A couple other islands in the Pacific too, if she’s being fair. It’s Christmas, and he’s supposed to call because that’s the way it’s always been: her staying up late not to catch Santa and his Reindeer but Father emerging from his office. It’s her that would tromp down the hall with all the grace of an elephant, to fling her arms around him and yelp, Merry Christmas!

And it was him who had to be stern, who must put her back down on the carpet and scold her for being out of bed. Who has to wait until she’s nearly shut her door to stop her, to call out, Merry Christmas, Chizuru.

It’s supposed to be her first. The one given moments after midnight, the most real, and-- and--

And she’s spent the whole day waiting for an empty office.

There’s a part of her, one that’s still too short to reach the microwave and can’t bear the kindness next door, that thinks she missed it. That there’s some dead zone in the house that she unwittingly lingered in, or a notification that her phone somehow swallowed whole. That it’s her fault she never presented herself to be loved.

But there’s another part, one that’s growing every day, and that one--

That one’s just tired. 

It’s tired that wins out, in the end.

There’s a weight that drags at her, urging her to stay within the cocoon of her covers, to let the night unfurl across her screen, each blow reported in black and white right before her eyes. A passive observer, an active disappointment, but most importantly: unmoving.

Even still, she gets up, throwing the cloud of her comforter back so that she can slide out from underneath it. Her heels hit the floor with a force that chatters her teeth; or maybe that’s just the chill of the air now that her body heat is no longer trapped up against her skin.

Her phone settles on the nightstand, cozening up to the lamp, and for a long moment, she thinks about turning it on. Every muscle complains as she peels her day clothes off and exchanges them for pajamas, her eyes straining to make out what’s a hole and what’s just dead air, and yet--

Yet it’s easier than facing herself.

The same weight drops her back onto the mattress, an anchor sinking into the endless depths of open water. She isn’t sure when she’ll hit bottom, but staring at the blank screen beside her feels entirely too close to it.

It’s with a trembling finger that she guides the volume from full to vibrate. Even that makes her heart race, makes her wonder if she’s just punishing Father for having priorities besides a fully adult daughter, the same one who had so happily told him she would support his sabbatical wherever it took him. What if he needs to get a hold of her? If there’s an emergency on Borneo or San Cistobal or whatever island his research took him? Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to just keep it on a little, just in case--

Her fingers flex. She deserves to sleep tonight, what little of it there is left. And if this is on...

Vibrate changes to mute. The phone flips over, screen pressed against the wood.

“Good night, Daddy.” She gives the case one last, small tap. “Merry Christmas.”

“Hey, jailbait.” Something warm nudges her shoulder, not gently. Chizuru has the space of exactly one breath to wonder what, before the same something grips both and shakes. “Get up!”

“Haah?” Her hands flail out, but whatever’s gotten hold of her slithers out of her grip, retreating past her arm’s reach. “What...?”

It’s bright when her eyes peel open, the sun already seeping through the curtain even though it can’t be more than--

“Class!” Her limbs fly out, wild as she tries to turn over, tangled up in the tight embrace of her covers. “I’m late for--”

“Hold up a slice, shortcake.” Souji looms over her, tall enough that his knees barely brush the bed to do it. “No classes today.”

“No...?” It’s not as if she has anything to say, brain moving at a snail’s pace that it is, but her mouth keeps moving anyway, as if just working her jaw might help get the gears moving. Which it does, oddly enough, reminding her it’s not a weekend but a holiday, and not just any holiday but Christmas, and--

And Father never called. Unless it came in the night, after she’d put herself to bed. After she’d not only turned off the ringtone but vibrate too, leaving him no chance to hear her voice, forcing any attempts for him to contact her straight to voicemail, like she didn’t even care--

“Hey.” Souji knees the mattress, jolting her outstretched elbow right into the corner of the nightstand. “Get up already.”

Painful tingles race up her arm, bouncing from elbow to shoulder and back and, oh, why is it called the funny bone when it’s not funny at all? “Souji, why are you--?”

A bleary blink turns the blurred numbers on her clock to something like sense.

“Oh!” She bolts upright on the mattress, sending Souji skittering back a step. No wonder he’s deigned to scratch at her door; Harada might be the oldest, but of the three of them, Chizuru’s the only one that can be trusted with the stove. “It’s late! Are you hungry?”

“No.” This close, it’s easy to see that furrow flash between his brows, the quick reassessment of his opinion. “Well, yeah. But that’s not what I want right now.”

This early, her brain’s as bleary as her vision, but it won’t clear no matter how much she blinks. “Then what...?”

He heaves a sigh; her only warning before long fingers clamp around her wrist, cold as iron. “Just come with me already.”

It’s a feat to get untangled from her blankets; there’s a knit one sandwiched between the top sheet and the comforter, plus another for more weight-- and heat, since she shares her thermostat with Shinpachi and Harada, whose bodies both run at a temperature verging on medically alarming if they think sixty-five degrees is comfortable. It’s harder still with Souji yanking at her the whole time; she’s not certain whether he does it because he’s impatient or because her struggling amuses him. Possibly both, knowing Souji.

Impatience, however, wins out. One foot wins free, planting itself on the bedside braided rug, and he snaps, “Hurry up. We don’t have all day.”

She’d love to, if only the comforter hadn’t swallowed her up to the ankle, cinching tight when she tries to pry it apart. “Ah, I know! Just give me one--”

Unless she’d meant to say second-- which she hadn’t, not at all-- Souji doesn’t give it to her. Instead he tugs, and she stumbles off the mattress, dragging half the blankets with her. “Good,” he huffs, barely glancing back. “Let’s go.”

“Wait!” Souji has a terrible habit of making things worse the longer he’s made to wait, but she digs in her heels anyway. Or, well, the one that isn’t still trapped in Poly-Fil. “Can I at least put on my robe?”

“Why? It’s not like there’s anyone to see your cute little Christmas--” he squints “--raccoons?”

“Tanuki.” She smooths her hand over the fabric, one of their round faces peeking playfully out from between her fingers. “They’re just so fluffy.”

Souji stares at her, stone-faced and silent, and-- and it’s longer than that his teasing typically takes. “Right,” he says, stilted. “Whatever. Just hurry it up, Sleeping Beauty.”

Chizuru is keenly conscious of every second Souji suffers her, all-too aware of how impossible it is to win a race against the limits of his patience, but she’s determined to make the most of what she’s given. It’s hopeless to aspire to Hajime’s cool efficiency, but she tries, keeping her movements sharp and purposeful, as if putting on her robe required the same sweeping grace as his kata, and yet--

Yet she barely cinches the knot tight before he’s grabbed her again. “C’mon, princess. We’ve got things to do.”

It’s a struggle just to keep her feet beneath her, but she manages a very eloquent. “Huh?”

His mouth quirks, too pleased, as he tugs and she stumbles, bare feet barely braced against the jamb. “People to piss off.”

Ah, well that’s hardly promising.

When all is said and done, he doesn’t drag her far. A cold comfort, considering.

“This is Hajime’s room,” she informs him. His grin assures her he already knows. “And, Ya-- ah, I mean, Su-- uh, um. S-susu...?”

The name’s foreign in her mouth, tongue stumbling and stuttering around it, and it’s-- it’s just odd not to use it, when she’s so used to Souji and Hajime and Heisuke and Shinpachi and even Sano, if it feels safe to say, instead of intimate. As if she’s letting all the rest of them close while keeping him at arm’s length.

Which isn’t true. But still, she can’t bring herself to say Yamazaki’s first name so casually, not when even Heisuke, who barely lasted three hours before asking if she was cool with nicknames, hasn’t managed it. With the syllables rolling around in her mouth, it’s almost...

Illicit. That’s it. “Is there a reason you need me here?”

Souji’s mouth curls, so satisfied she’s surprised she can’t see feathers between his teeth. “Yes, definitely.”

“But they went home for the holidays.” She frowns. “Did you need something in there? I’m pretty sure it’s--”

His leg kicks back, and with one smooth swing, he completely bypasses the need for a doorknob, the open door shivering from the force.

“-- locked,” she finishes faintly. “Oh my.”

One hand catches the door, long fingers splayed across the grain. “After you, jailbait.”

She nearly balks-- it’s not as if it’s his room; he hardly has the right to invite her-- but the door swings open, and she--

She’s never seen this before. Yamazaki’s room. Or Hajime’s, of course. A tour down the hallway would be enough to get a glimpse into any of the other rooms; Heisuke hadn’t even waited a day to drag her into his, pointing out all his favorite posters. Harada and Shinpachi took a few weeks longer, though she’d spent most of that visit with her hands clapped over her eyes. Even Souji tolerated her shuffling a step over the threshold, even if it was only to ask for him to help her reach one of the taller cabinets. But Yamazaki and Hajime...

Their door has always been carefully shut, not even the slightest gap for a peek. An easy habit to explain away; the both of them value privacy over accessibility, choosing to socialize in the common areas of the house rather than in their room, but still--

It’s almost surprising how normal it is. Not that Chizuru expected it to be wallpapered floor to ceiling with centerfolds, like Harada and Shinpachi’s room, or crowded with collectibles like Heisuke’s, but maybe white walls and stark sheets, monochrome and neat as a pin. The sort of room that would seem unoccupied, if it wasn’t for the monitors on the desks. Sterile.

Instead there’s posters. Not crowding the walls, so close that the corners overlap, but there’s personality, if not chaos. Enough to know that the boy who sleeps under the navy comforter likes movies with kimonos and swords or computers from the 80s, and that charcoal comforter likes wuxia and vintage medical diagrams. And books too, if the stack teetering on his bedside table is any indication.

Chizuru shuffles a step further into the room. It would be rude to rummage, but surely-- surely it wouldn’t hurt if she just read the titles. If she just stooped down the tiniest bit and--

And tripped over Souji, shoulder-deep beneath Yamazaki’s mattress. “W-what are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” he grunts, annoyed. “A guy that uptight’s got to be hiding something. And not just the normal stuff. The kind of something that’s gotta be top shelf fucked up.”

She blinks. “Huh?”

“Oh come on, you know what I mean. Whips and chains.” He drags his arm out with a huff. “Autoerotic asphyxiation. Snuff tapes.” Souji reaches up, flipping over his pillows. “Yiffing. Who could say what a small-dicked little turd like him is into?”

Half those words are unrecognizable, and so it’s not until he’s on his feet, poking through desk drawers that Chizuru realizes, “You mean you’re looking for...for...” Her mouth works, cheeks painfully hot as she manages, “Girlie magazines?”

His fingers still, pressed into a sheaf of glossy page edges. “I’m trying to find porn, Chizuru. That’s what we call it this century.”

The book shuts with a snap, joining its friends on the shelf, and when he reaches for another, she blurts out, “Don’t people just watch that online now?”

Souji laughs, not kind, but abandons the bookshelf. “And everyone thinks you’re so innocent, huh, princess?”

Her hands clap to her cheeks. Ah, she hadn’t realized it could be painful to blush. “I, um...only, ah--” Souji flings open the closet “--I don’t think you should really be--!”

“Jackpot.” The hangers rattle as he slips something off the rack; with only the sunlight eking in around the blinds to light the room, it’s hard to see just what. “What do you think? Would it look good on me?”

The fabric’s black, limp and shapeless on its hanger, utterly unrecognizable. “I don’t...?”

“Nah, no way I could fit into that shrimp’s costumes.” The light might be dim, but Souji’s teeth practically glow when he says, “But you could, half pint. C’mon, get over here.”

She doesn’t have much of a choice, not when he grabs her wrist and yanks. “I don’t understand,” she murmurs, watching him separate a smaller piece from the whole, more uncomfortable by the second. “Why did you need me when you were only going to..um...?”

Steal seems a little strong for the moment. Scrounge falls a little short.

“Ahhh, see, kid, last night I left a little gift for the whole student body. Right on the main page, where everyone could appreciate it.” He steps entirely too close, the warmth of his body filling the space between them. “And our favorite little ass-kisser didn’t appreciate it.”

The scrap slips over her head, cool and smooth where it settles around her neck. “So he took it down. Or got some of his nerd friends to do it. Either way...” Souji shrugs. “It’s rude to give back a gift, isn’t it?”

His wrist twists, the cloth pulling tight against her skin. Tight enough that only a twitch guides her into a nod. “See? That’s what I thought too. Kid needs to learn a thing or two about manners. So that’s what I’m doing.” Souji grins, the fabric loosening as he lets it slip from his fingers. “Teaching him a lesson.”

“B-but...” Her focus stumbles as he steps closer, threading his hand beneath the few inches of her hair that don’t clear the fabric and pulling them free. “I don’t see what that has to do with me.”

“It’s cute that you don’t know.” His smile could cut when he slips the cloth right up over her nose. “This is a hostage situation, jailbait, and you’re going to read from the script. Now look over here.”

She does, blinking right up into the blinding light of flash photography as his arm squeezes her close. “What...?”

“Perfect.” Souji’s lips slant to a smirk, phone pinched delicately between his fingers. “Now I just need to post this in--”

The lights flick on. Neither of them are near the switch.

But Hajime is.

“Just what,” he says, brows drawn down like a storm, “do you think you’re doing in here?”

There have only been three house meetings since Chizuru showed up on their doorstep, hair shorn and all her earthly possessions split between a backpack and a trash bag: the first, called by the professor, to announce that that there would be a new roommate; the second, to decide how exactly to handle the fact that Chizuru wasn’t a boy’s name, nor was she; and the third, well...

I’m not complaining that you invite girls back, Sano, Shinpachi had said, with all the gravitas of a judge, but you can’t let them wander around. She went through our trash, dude!

But this-- it’s different. Not just because of the Christmas lights, festively twinkling through their cycle, or Shinpachi’s sweater blinking through its own.

It’s that they’re all here, Christmas afternoon-- evening really, with how early the sun sets these days-- holidays cut short. Chizuru might not have anyone to spent Christmas with, but Shinpachi did, and Heisuke, and Yamazaki--

And instead they’re all here. Because of her. Not a single one of them is smiling.

It’s too much.

“I’m so sorry!” The words burst out of her, rushed, but it’s important to get them out before anyone else can speak, before they think she’s only sorry because she got caught. “I really didn’t mean to go in! I just...Souji said...”

“Narc.” It’s muffled in his shoulder, just loud enough for her to hear. And maybe others, the way Yamazaki’s brow twitches across the table.

“Chizu, Chizu. Come on.” Shinpachi holds up his hands, as if a half-hearted sweep like that could clear the slate of her worries.. “No one here thinks this is your fault.”

It’s kind of him to say, but that’s...impossible. Not when she’s so clearly transgressed. “I went into Y-Yamazaki and Hajime’s room without permission. That’s against the--”

“No, Yukimura, that’s not--” Yamazaki’s teeth clack down, hard.  “I don’t mind if it’s you. Ah, I mean--” his ears flush the same angry pink that licks up the column of his neck “--it’s, er, different.”

“You are respectful of other people’s personal belongings,” Hajime clarifies. “There is no issue with you in our private space. Souji, however...”

“Oh, come on.” Souji kicks his feet up on the coffee table, baring every hole in the bottom of them. “It’s not like I broke anything.”

Yamazaki’s eyes hone onto him-- or rather, the parts of him only inches from Harada’s iced mocha, so close a flex of a toe could touch the coaster. “Right, you only stole something. Not like that’s a big deal.”

“Stole? Like I want--” with a sweep of his palm, Yamazaki clears the surface of appendages, so precise it doesn’t even disrupt the condensation on the cup “--hey!”

He doesn’t smile, but when Yamazaki glances up at the couch, his satisfaction shines just as bright as one.

“Souji.”

Hajime is not like Shinpachi, using his outdoor voice in every room no matter how small, or Heisuke, unable to control his volume once a conversation gets interesting. He’s soft spoken, serious; the sort of person other people lean in to hear, rather than ask him to speak up.

But today, he pitches his voice to be heard. “You cannot enter someone’s assigned private room without express permission.” With even graver inflection, he adds “It is against the rules put forth in the Signed Housing Agreement.”

Souji snorts, sinking further into the couch cushions. “No one pays attention to that crap.”

Air hisses between Yamazaki’s teeth. “That’s--”

“If I am not allowed to leave the group chat unless a member of the house boots me for a pre-agreed upon duration,” Hajime says, mouth pulling thin, “then you are also not allowed in my room.”

His glare is hardly aimed at her, but it comes close enough that she flinches. Souji doesn’t, refusing to acknowledge it that same way a cat declined to be caught on a curtain, as if reality was simply an opinion he did or did not hold. “I didn’t even touch your stuff. I don’t know why you’re trying to--”

“You did touch Yamazaki’s stuff, though.” Harada shifts in his chair, the vee of his sweater dipping deep enough to bare cleavage. It might be distracting, if it wasn’t already a relief that he was wearing all his clothes. “Which is against the rules.”

“Yeah, that’s fucked up, right?” Shinpachi cracks open a tall boy, cold enough that the beer fizzes out, threatening to drip right across the festive moose on his chest; HORNY AND WELL HUNG according to the words knit into his sweater. “There’s no locks on the doors, man. We’ve all got to trust each other.”

Chizuru blinks. “But I have a lock.”

He pauses, mid-sip. “Well, I guess that makes sense. You’re a girl, after all. Can’t have a girl be alone with a bunch of guys if there no--”

“My room also has a lock.” Hajime frowns, considering the socks Souji’s just returned to the table. “Hardly a good one, if Souji was able to bypass it with just his foot, but...”

“Me too,” Heisuke chimes in. “I just don’t really use it.”

“Wait, what?” Shinpachi swivels between them, lost. “Are me and Sano the only ones who don’t--?”

“I think the best course of action is to inform Professor Hijikata about the infraction.” Kneeling on the carpet next to Shinpachi’s luggage, Yamazaki’s hardly an authority figure, but when he raises his voice the room fritters to silence. “I’m sure he can take it from there.”

Harada hums, unconvinced. “I don’t know about that. Souji’s already got two strikes against him. If we report another one, I’m pretty sure Hijikata’s going to toss him out.”

They might be more suggestions than eyebrows, but still, it makes an impression when Yamazaki furrows them.  “I don’t see why that’s any of my concern.”

“Aw, c’mon, Yamazaki.” They all might tease her about her pleading eyes, but it’s Heisuke that uses them now, as compelling as any puppy in a pet store window. “You know Souji doesn’t have anywhere else to go. You wouldn’t throw him out in the cold just like that, would you?”

His mouth pinches, bracing the way the rest of him is, squared off and utterly implacable. “Souji is a grown man who can make his own decisions. If those decisions lead to him getting tossed out, that hardly has anything to do with me.”

Souji snorts. “None of the people who complained are even here anymore.”

Yamazaki whips around, eyes so cold they could turn any other man to ice. Souji just smirks. “Yes, because of you.”

“Well, I don’t know...” Heisuke hums, thoughtful. “Ryu left because of that art program. You know, the one that had the scholarship.”

“Only after Okita shoved him off--!”

“Oh, c’mon.” Souji’s shoulder twitch, barely summoning up the energy for a full shrug. “That’s all water under the bridge.”

Yamazaki surges to his feet; only Harada’s hand, keeping him from jumping the table too. “You broke his wrist in three places! The only reason he didn’t press charges was because his foster father is somehow an even bigger asshole than you!”

Souji picks his grins the same way a chef picks his knives from the block: with the intention to cut. “No hard feelings.”

“Hard feelings?” Yamazaki chokes out. “You think this is about hard feelings? When Itou left, he--”

“Itou was a prick.”

Hajime doesn’t so much sigh as hum, raspy and dubious. “That doesn’t mean that what you did was right, Souji.”

His eyes narrow, annoyed. “Don’t pretend you miss him running around the place, acting better than everyone.”

“No, no. He’s got a point.” The easy chair grunts as Shinpachi shifts his weight back, crossing his legs ankle to knee. “They both do. You know I don’t want to kick you out, man, but you’ve got a bad habit of taking stuff way past funny right into, well...”

“An actionable offense?” Harada offers, wry.

A blunt nail taps at his can, uncomfortable. “Yeah, that. It’s not good, bro.”

Something happens with Souji’s mouth. A lot of somethings, actually; subtle ones, hidden in the corners and tucked into the cheeks, the sort that happen between one blink and the next. Missable, save for the fact that Chizuru never looks away.

There’s a jut of his lip first, not a pout but its more serious cousin, the kind that’s like a levee to a deluge: one tremble away from a flood. A scowl next, never quite reaching his eyes; good practice for the smile that follows, curving into a smirk the way steel takes an edge: like it’s meant for it.

“All right, all right.” His hands raise up, too lax for a peace offering. It might stand in for a concession, if she tilted her head and squinted, but only a little. “So you’re all mad at me or whatever.”

“For good reason.” It’s a strong stance for Harada; he’s usually the one who’s quick to compromise, so long as it keeps everyone civil.

“Sure, right.” Souji shrugs, unconcerned. “I get it. But consider--” fabric whips out from behind a pillow, matte and black-- “this.”

Chizuru blinks. “Wasn’t that in...?”

Yamazaki’s closet, she doesn’t say. Not when he shakes it out, turning it from cloth to clothing, a whole jumpsuit with fussy embroidery picked out in an even darker black.

“What’s that?” Shinpachi scoots to the edge of his chair, squinting. He must not have his contacts in. “Some sort of ninja costume?”

She knows better than to turn, to draw attention to the statue suddenly sitting across the table, but Chizuru can’t help it, not when Souji is so quick to say, “It is.” There’s enough relish in his tone that she can taste it. “And it’s Yamazaki’s.”

There’s a pause-- for effect, she’s sure, considering the way Souji grins. Like he’s pulled off some magic trick, making his troubles disappear in one hand and then plucking them out from behind Yamazaki’s ear.

“So?” Harada snorts, unimpressed. “Are you surprised? He’s been a ninja for Halloween like, what? Three years running? Since I’ve been here at least. What next? Gonna pull a sexy firefighter out of Shin’s closet?”

“Hey!” A hand presses right over WELL, leaving HORNY and HUNG peeking out from underneath it. “I’ve branched out! This year I was a sexy soldier.”

“How can you tell?” Heisuke mutters, hunched shoulders making his chest even narrower, more concave. “You’re only wearing like half a costume.”

“We’re not talking about Nagakura.” With all the subtlety of a bomb, Souji drops, “We’re talking about Mr Kiss-Ass and how he has like, five of these tucked away for a rainy day.”

It’s been three months since Chizuru managed to insinuate herself into the house, but not once has it been quiet. Even in the night there’s something: Shinpachi snoring, Harada’s flings trying to find the front door, Heisuke up entirely too late typing up papers or-- more likely-- playing video games. Something. But now--

Now it’s a ringing silence that’s left in Souji’s wake, an awkward air that has every shoulder stiff, every eye finding somewhere else to look besides the place where Yamazaki sits, still as a stone.

Or at least, until Hajime slides forward, dexterous fingers smoothing over the raised stitches of the sleeve. “Oh,” he hums, impressed. “Your skills have really improved since your last attempt. I take it this is for next weekend?”

“Ah...” He swallows, loud enough that even Chizuru can hear. “Y-yeah. The new kunai were too heavy for the belt, so I thought if I remade that, I might as well add a few more quality of life adjustments, and, er...”

“Oh my god,” Heisuke breathes, quivering like a corgi at the end of his leash. “Are you a real ninja?”

A broad hand cuffs him on the back of his head. “C’mon,” Harada mutters. “What the hell’s wrong with you?”

If Yamazaki’s ears were painted pink before, they’re crimson now, hot enough to burn from touch alone. The square of his shoulders deflates, rounding with the slow leak of his confidence, but--

But Hajime simply nods, stroking his chin. “Perhaps I should look at my own as well. It hardly feels adequate next to all the work you’ve done.”

“Is this like...a sex thing?” Shinpachi’s eyes dart between the two of them. “It’s a sex thing, right?”

“No,” Yamazaki says, stern, immediately undermined by Hajime’s, “A little.”

It’s with a hefty heaping of betrayal that Yamazaki turns to him, glaring as he grounds out, “Absolutely not.”

Hajime’s mouth gives a dubious twist, and he opens it, perhaps to gainsay him, but--

But there’s no time, not when Heisuke practically explodes. “Are you a ninja too, Hajime?”

He blinks. “No.”

“Oh.” Heisuke deflates. “Okay, I guess...”

“I’m a samurai.”

“What--” Harada’s voice strains beneath the words “--is going on?”

“So let me get this straight.” Harada’s fingers pinch at the bridge of his nose, but by the wrinkle above them, Chizuru doubts it helps. “You two...dress up as samurai...?”

“I’m the samurai,” Hajime explains, so helpful. “Yamazaki is currently playing as a ninja. As he typically does.”

“You don’t have to tell them that,” he mutters. “That’s not really the point--”

“Right, of course, but...” Harada grimaces. “This is what you do on the weekends? For fun?”

A narrow shoulder lifts under Hajime’s tee, the closest he comes to a shrug. “An afternoon a month, to be more specific.”

“Once a month?” Heisuke asks, wide-eyed. “That doesn’t seem like a lot.”

“It takes a large amount of effort and dedication to keep up a long-form Live Action Roleplaying campaign,” he explains gravely. “That the organizers are able to run so often is a testament to their skill. And to run a weekend event--”

“So you mean you go there the whole weekend?” Heisuke blinks. “Like just forty-eight hours of samurai stuff?”

Hajime’s correction comes the same way as all his interactions: swiftly and without any judgment. “Seventy-two hours.”

Shinpachi goggles. “That’s a lot of fucking hours.”

“It is to aid with immersion.” Hajime isn’t a man of many words, but now he does not so much pause as he does breathe. “Unlike other games of its kind, Legend of the Five Rings does not focus so much on combat as it does internal conflict, and the robust worldbuilding--”

“This isn’t what they’re asking.” Yamazaki’s gaze darts wide-eyed around the table, never daring to stay longer than a blink. “You don’t have to--”

“--Is based on Sengoku Era Japan,” he continues, heedless. “As gratifying as it is to play on a regular basis, it really isn’t until a few hours into any session that people truly come to embody their roles. The court politics alone--”

“Saito.” Yamazaki may be seated at the opposite end of the living room, but his stare is enough to make even Hajime hesitate. “I think they get the idea.”

Harada looks between them, pained. “So are there...scripts or something?”

“No. Yes.” Hajime frowns. “It’s complicated. Each scene is improvised in character, but the organizers are present to facilitate the flow of the story. It is a collaborative effort.”

“But that’s it?” Heisuke asks. “You’re just like...samurai for a day? Or, er, three of them?”

“Yes.”

“And you do this--” Harada’s eyebrows furrow, pained “--for fun?”

Hajime doesn’t answer so much as cock his head, hands outspread as if to say, what else?

“That’s so...so cool!” Heisuke leaps to his feet, practically tripping over the table in his excitement. “Can I go? You guys gotta bring me!”

“What?” Harada blinks at him. “You want to go to this?”

“Uh, yeah?” His hands clench, too excited. “You get to be a samurai, Sano! Who wouldn’t want to?”

“Hey, so.” Shinpachi leans in, face pinched in curiosity. “Is this like...D&D or whatever?”

“In spirit,” Yamazaki creaks out, looking like death warmed over.

He nods. “Right, right. So like...a total sausage fest, or...?”

“The numbers on many tabletop games typically skews toward male,” Hajime explains, “but Live Action Roleplaying draws a higher percentage of female participants. Possibly due to the cosplay aspect.”

Shinpachi grins. “Oh, then count me in too, sensei.”

Harada stares at him. “Who are you?”

“What?” Shinpachi shrugs. “It’s math with babes. What’s not to love?”

“Ah...” Yamazaki waving hands don’t do much to hide his grimace. “I don’t really think this will be as interesting to you as you think...”

“He’s right,” Harada presses. “You may think it’s a good place to pick up women who aren’t afraid of, er, theoretical numbers--”

“They’re not theoretical,” Shinpachi huffs. “They’re real, it’s just the equations used to describe them are--“

“See? Already my eyes have glazed over.”

“I don’t know,” Chizuru hums, pitched just loud enough to be heard. “I think it sounds...fun?”

Yamazaki’s stare fixes on her. “Really?”

Even as a girl, Chizuru had never been one to play dress up, never been one to play pretend-- father didn’t approve, for one. Not when there were more direct benefits to be had from drilling flashcards or reading books. A second, her daydreams were vivid enough she hardly needed to act them out, not when Father was so apt to remind her, princesses don’t have to pass their medical exams.

But Yamazaki is as serious as they come, a TA for the dean of the pre-med department even before graduating. His acceptance to the medical school almost assured, and he finds this worth his time. Enough to have made a costume-- with his own hands!-- and sign up for a whole weekend away from his studies...

“Y-yeah.” She ducks her head, hoping to hide the heat that pricks at her cheeks. “I mean, as long as it wouldn’t be a bother for me to, um...”

“Ah, no! I mean, yes. Never.” Yamazaki shakes himself, pink staining the high arch of his cheekbones. “It’s not a problem.”

“Yeah, Chizu!” An arm clamps around her shoulders, dragging her against Shinpachi’s personal light display. “That’s right! Let’s all go. House field trip!”

Yamazaki’s jaw drops. “I don’t, er, know about that--!”

“Fine.” Harada sighs, getting to his feet. “If Chizuru wants to go. Count me in.”

“That’s the spirit!” Shinpachi claps him on the back, hard enough that even Harada has to cough. “Now, that just leaves...?”

“Uh-uh.” Souji’s arms fold over his chest, forbidding. “No way I’m going to your nerd party.”

“Aw, c’mon.” Shinpachi drops between them on the couch, arm pulling tight. “Think of it as a group bonding experience.”

Souji scowls. “What makes you think I care about bonding with any of you--”

“Well, if you’re going to be that way about it.” He squeezes tight enough to eke a squeak out of him. “Think about it as, ‘if you go we won’t tell Hijikata about you stealing shit.”

Souji glowers. “Fine,” he grumbles, shoving him off. “But I won’t like it!”

Shinpachi’s smile is all knives when he replies, “Wouldn’t expect you to.”

It’s dark when Chizuru stumbles out into the hall; there’d been daylight still when they’d piled into the parlor, but now night clings to the the edges of dusk, only enough light to gild the snow in golden shadow. It might bother her more if it wasn’t such a relief, a respite from having to scrape at the last reserve of her smiles. And so she takes it; one big breath and the muscles around her mouth slump, aching from use.

Any other night, she might worry about one of the boys following out behind her, but she can hear the ruckus shift from the parlor toward the kitchen, wheeled baggage and Shinpachi’s booming voice all tromping toward the back stair. Her day may have happened in fits and starts, but everyone else has been on the move, going from Christmas to short notice travel to fraught house meeting all within the space of hours. There’s no one who’s going to be worried about her.

Which suits her just fine. A few minutes lying face down on her comforter and she’ll be right as rain. Just a breath or two to herself, and--

Someone huffs behind her. Right behind her.

She whips around so fast, she nearly tumbles Yamazaki into the wall with her. Or at least his arm, half outstretched, now just hanging there in the air between them.

“Oh!” There’s no reason for her to shy back, but she does, guiltier with every inch. “Ah, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to--”

“No, no. It’s my fault.” His hands aren’t large, not like Harada or Shinpachi, but the fingers are long and tapered, digging runnels through the shaggy bristle of his hair. “I should have-- ah, I mean, I just saw you, and er, wanted to make sure that you were all right. After, ah...all that.”

Her first instinct urges her to laugh, to let her nerves giggle out, there’s no need to worry about me--

But Yamazaki stares at her with the same careful intensity as he had in the kitchen-- you’re worth a good meal-- and Chizuru tries deflection instead. “I’m the one who should be asking you that! I went into your room without any permission and all, and Souji--” Yamazaki grimaces at the name “---I just...you have every right to be mad at me!”

“You?” he echoes, incredulous. “It’s not your fault, Yukimura. Okita’s the one who dragged you in there.”

She shakes her head. “I could have chosen to leave any time. I just was too curious to think to question him.”

“Curious?” There’s no inflection to the word, and with the shadows making a muddle of his expressions, there’s only the tilt of his head to tell here there’s a question. “Why would you be curious?”

“Ah, I’d just...never been inside before?” Her palms clap to her cheeks, and oh, she must glow from how hot her cheeks burn. “It’s silly.”

“It’s not! It’s just, ah...unexpected. I...” His mouth opens, as if he might say more, but with a lick of his lips, it closes instead. Or rather, his chin dips down and it follows, gaze dropping from her eyes to somewhere at her neck. As if...

“Oh, did I spill...?” She can’t actually remember what she’s eaten today, whether it could be something that she could walk around wearing, but Yamazaki’s already shaking his head.

“Ah, no, it’s just...you still have...” His fingers curl hesitantly in the air between them. “If you would let me...?”

Every twitching nerve of her stills as he steps close, fingers skimming past her shoulders. Only days ago she’d knotted his scarf, but it feels different now that he’s the one reaching, so close his hand meet behind her neck. He’s not bundled up now, no three layers of wool and thermal and parka to keep her from realizing that he smells nice, like...like something clean with a hint of eucalyptus, and it’s...

It’s a lot.

His fingers knit into the fabric at her nape, too slippery for him to find the end of it by touch. At least, the first time; he gathers it up, hiking it higher and higher until he can slide under it, the flat of his nails smooth and warm against her neck. Her pulse pounds so hard he must feel it, but Yamazaki doesn’t flinch, instead lifting it with surgical precision. The stretchy fabric threads right off her ponytail with no more than that initial brush of fingers, and she--

She stare. It’s the mask. The one Souji put on her. All this time, and she’s-- she’s just been wearing it, like some sort of...scarf. Right over her tanuki pajamas. In front of everyone.

In front of Yamazaki.

If she could melt into the woodwork, it would be a miracle. But as always, reality refuses to oblige her. “Oh, I hadn’t even...ah...”

“Please, don’t worry about it.” His fingers smooth over the fabric, mouth curving into a rueful smile. “It looked better on you than it does on me.”

“Ah!” Her gasp catches in her throat. “That’s not...um...” She hakes her head, hoping that might clear enough room for a sentence or two to compose itself. “I don’t think that’s true.”

Yamazaki glances up at her, amused, and oh-- she hadn’t meant to say that. Not like that.

“You know, I meant to...” He stops himself. Not abruptly, like she does, but a slow, thoughtful halt. Like a train pulling into a station rather than a car braking for a yellow light. “I mean, I don’t think I ever got around to saying it last night, and today, with everything...well”

He hesitates again, a breath hissing between his teeth. But this time his shoulders square, and even though his gaze is lost in the shadow of his brows, she knows he’s looking at her. “Merry Christmas, Yukimura.”

[myokk]

Sebastian Sallow's List of Priorities (in no particular order):

Figure out what the hell I'm going to do when I graduate;

Figure out how the hell I'm going to finish this bloody Charms essay before tomorrow; and

Figure out what the hell is going on between us

Sebastian sits in an undisturbed corner of the library - nobody ever comes to this table because it's tucked away between shelves of incredibly dense magical theory books - and is twirling his quill in his fingers, watching the ink splatter on the list he spent his precious time writing instead of the Charms essay he should be working on. He's far away from the first-years who like to congregate by the windows and watch the leaves fall softly to the ground rather than study for their classes. He's made especially sure that he is far, far away from her.

It's not his choice, mind you, but he needs to be a gentleman about these things. If she needs some time and space to figure out that she's as crazy for him as he is her, fine. But even Sebastian Sallow's patience runs thin, and he's not sure how much longer he can give her to come to her senses before he snaps and takes matters into his own hands. If things were up to him, the two of them would be sitting far too close together now in this secluded corner, and maybe he would need to put a hand over her mouth to ensure her complete silence as he runs a hand up her thigh.

Now that he knows what delicious sounds can come out of her mouth - sounds that he caused - he's been having a hard time concentrating on, well, anything. Sebastian surreptitiously glances across the library to where she's sitting and studying with his sister and Imelda. Ever since the events after their Divination class, Sir Cadogan has taken it upon himself to follow Sebastian around the halls of the castle, tripping through frames and disrupting their inhabitants as he lectures Sebastian on love. The tea party women had managed to convince the knight that he had disrupted an amorous exchange, and Sebastian fervently wishes they hadn't.

The whole school is abuzz with rumors about who it could be. Nobody has even come close so far with their guesses, but Anne and Imelda are having too much fun teasing him about it. Somehow, she has managed to avoid suspicion - he wonders how this is even possible, since she's never been able to hide what she's thinking. He makes eye contact with her - has she been staring at him this whole time? - and she flushes before looking over to Imelda, who's laughing too loudly at something Anne's just said. Sebastian can't tear his eyes away from her profile, his eyes following the curve of her eyebrow, the slight upturn of her lips as she smiles at her friends, her eyes as they dart back to him, her cheeks as she turns an even darker shade of red as she realizes he's still watching her. She tucks a lock of hair behind her ear, and rests her chin on her hand as she tries to look absorbed in what Anne is saying to her.

Sebastian wonders if she's thought about him as much as he's thought about her. Judging by how she had snogged him back, he's positive that she feels the same way, but then he remembers how she had looked at him before she fled, and he's not so sure. He sighs as he looks back to his list, bringing his quill back to the third item and ripping the paper as he crosses it out again. His mind has been going in circles since that moment and he doesn't know what to think. He slowly puts everything into his schoolbag before heading out of the library for yet another freezing cold shower that hopefully tempers his now-permanent state of arousal whenever she's around.

He doesn't notice her eyes following him as he walks out of the library.

He doesn't hear her hurried excuse to Anne and Imelda as she shoves her things into her bag and rushes to follow him.

He doesn't hear her light footsteps as she gets closer to him.

When she puts a hand out to touch his arm as he waits for the moving staircase to stop, with a soft, "Sebastian" accompanying it, he nearly jumps out of his skin. He was so absorbed with thoughts of her, that to see her standing at his side, closer than she had been since they kissed was almost his snapping point.

"Can we talk?" she asks, looking almost embarrassed as she avoids his eyes. She instead looks determinedly at his collar. He thinks she probably notices that he swallows nervously before acquiescing, but she says nothing as she turns and starts hurrying away from him without waiting to see if he follows her.

She must know that he would follow her anywhere at this point.

from my oneshot🫶🫶🫶

I just really wanted to draw these two idiots😭💘

[kenzan-kiwami]

to be completely frank i think most of the people i've seen with major complaints regarding RGG 8's story are forgetting that 99% of what they're saying can be applied across the whole series

[bastardofharrenhal]

my mildly hot take is that i dont like dany's chapters that much. i like dany i like jorah i like the dragons but theyre so far away from westeros that i cant be assed to care

[baeshijima]

honestly one of my favourite things is drawing fanart for my own stories bc 1) i am my own stories biggest fan 2) seeing all the impactful scenes i have in mind in some sort of physical representation is just so nice and lk helps me write some scenes and 3) i can make my ocs look as silly and tragic as i want

[kyri45]

And when the day kisses the night you know that, even after the dark, the light will shine on a new sunrise.

AT LONG LAST.

AT LONG.

LAST.

THE BITCHES. FINALLY. KISSED!!!!!!!

SHADOWPEACH IS OFFICIALLY CANON!!1!1!1 (in the au)

Shadowpeach Bio Parent AU (PREV/ FIRST / NEXT )

Next part is coming on February 8th, 1PM ET

You can bet your ass they kept making out on the way to heaven.

More rambling and Horizontal and vertical versions of the kiss under the cut!

Well, what can I say. It's been a long journey, but the Shadowpeach Bio Parents AU can finally be officially a "Shadowpeach-canon" AU ahah. Hopefully the slow-burn wasn't too painful. I put my heart on my sleeve when I say that I swore to myself that as soon as the two bitches completely, fully forgive each other, then, and only then, they could have their moment.

Then, something something-having your true form while doing an act/saying something means showing the honesty of what you are saying/doing-something something

I laughed my ass off so many times while drawing panel 7 bc like- Mac is just "omg this idiot is so stupid, he's my idiot, I love him so much"

lastly, finally, FINALLY, I don't have to hold back anymore! Prepare yourself, Im gonna go full blast with these bitches. If you thought whatever they were doing before was gay, BOY DO I HAVE NEWS FOR YOU. this story might as well turn intp a FWP (plot? what plot? fluff without plot)

hehe mac in panel 17 is like "oh NO U DON'T! PUT YOUR MOUTH WHERE IT BELONGS

Maybe this is not as epic or as a boom as the spicynoodle kiss. But that's kind of the point. They are the doomned toxic yaoi who healed in the past 6 months. They have always been together kind of. A kiss is just one of the hundreds other actions and words they shared during all the other parts of the story. They loved each other well before this chapter. So a kiss is just a natural course of them re-discovering each other and their intimacy. They sleep together (literally sleeping together, not sex yet) they comfort each other at their lowest, they saw each other inner selfs, they call each other nicknames, they call each other beautiful. I mean this was less of a "Slow Burn" and more a "put it in the microwave cause it got cold so that it slowly get warm again, but the food was already cooked"

[imstillalexcomic]

I was planning on writing a long post about all this, but even though coming out as trans has been a 24 year process and there's been ample time to work on what to say, I'm having trouble finding the right words.

While I knew there was something going on with me since I was about 12 or 13, it took time to realize what it was.

It then took more time to get over my denial.

Then even more time to come out to my best friend in 2017.

Then *even* more time to finally decide to start hormone replacement therapy this year.

Since starting HRT, I've been reaching out to folks from all stages in my life to tell them in person. It's been a lovely experience so far and everyone has been so kind and accepting and understanding and I'm truly fortunate and honored that I've somehow managed to have been surrounded by so many wonderful people.

There are many more that I wanted to reach out to, but I'm finally ready to come out publicly, so I'm ripping the bandaid off now.

Naturally, I'm going to be silly about it and do it with a comic.

I haven't really been drawing since Corpse Run ended, but I've had the itch to get back into it and now that I have a new topic to explore I think I finally have the passion to match the desire.

No set schedule like Corpse Run had, but there's going to be some trans comics from time to time, general life stuff... maybe some video games too because why not.

Given current events, I think visibility is more important than ever. Being seen and potentially giving other folks who might be closeted as I was an opportunity to explore their own relationship with themselves has value and I'm excited to make this next chapter of my life something worthwhile beyond my own happiness.

Being trans is ok. Not being trans is ok. Being whatever it is you were born as is ok.

The circumstances of your birth are nothing to be ashamed of, you are valid and always will be.

I guess I found some words after all. I hope they're the right ones.