#anyways that should’ve been another post in of itself sorry lmao

[okcoolthanks]

Two rats having lunch

Two rats having lunch

The vermin

The vermin

Enthusiastically munch!

TWO RATS

ON THE GROUND

EATIN FOOD

GRILLED CHEESE AND

TOMATO SOUP

[maria-scribbles]

loyalty’s all i got | part two

three years ago, you had it all: great friends, good grades, and an almost perfect relationship with your boyfriend, jj. it all came crashing down when your mom relocated your family to california for work and you were forced to trade the outer banks for malibu, leaving your broken heart behind in the place you were just starting to think of as home. now you're back in town for college and to pick up the pieces, hoping to make things right again with your friends and the boy you never stopped loving.

word count: 8.6k+

ship: jj maybank x female!reader, pogue friendship

warnings n stuff: angst angst angst all around (with a happy ending tho!!), the reader being a v. sad girl, mentions of anxiety/depression, failed long distance relationship, drifting apart, self-inflicted loneliness/isolation, the classic trope of 'they broke up but they're still in love with each other' that gives me feels, swearing (it's not my writing unless someone says 'fuck' at least once), reconciliation/mended relationships, traditional cheesy rom-com rain scene 'cause i'm a Dramatic Hoe™

a/n: and here's the second and final part of this looooong two-shot! thank you all so much for reading and i hope you enjoy the finale even though i low key kind of hate it 🙃. fun fact: surfrider beach is a real place in malibu known for its great waves :) also i apologize for how long this took to post, i dropped my laptop and the screen broke so i had to wait for it to get fixed lmao. unbetaed as usual, any mistakes are my b. 

~masterlist~

part two: like a ghost that no one knew

When you said goodbye to your friends three years ago, you should've known things would never be the same again. You were sixteen, still so young and naïve and full of an almost childlike hope that kept you from seeing the obvious: life wasn't fair. Sometimes, you could be holding all the right cards and still lose the game.

It should've been easy. You had a video chat schedule already figured out, promises of daily texts and Snapchats, a boyfriend willing -enthusiastically willing, in fact- to go long distance and make it work no matter what 'cause you both agreed that what you had was something worth fighting for. You and your friends had weathered many storms together, what was one more? It could've been easy but you underestimated just how cruel California would be.

You traded one coast for the other and watched the sun set over the Pacific alone when you would've given anything to watch it rise over the Atlantic with your friends. It hurt to surf solo but you did it anyway, even though it felt like a damn sucker punch each time you caught yourself scanning the sand for JJ and his proud smile when you successfully caught bigger and bigger waves at Surfrider Beach.��

Long distance was hard. You had days where all you wanted to do was lay on your bed for hours, safely curled up in his arms as he ran his fingers through your hair but you had to settle for his voice over the phone and one of his shirts from your closet instead. You missed everything about him: his pretty eyes that looked like the clearest ocean, the cheeky grin he'd send your way after making a stupid joke that had you affectionately rolling your eyes in exasperation, that adorable flush that spread across his face without fail each and every time you said you loved him. You longed for his constant affection; the way he always wanted to keep you close somehow, his arm around your shoulders, hand in your back pocket, or fingers entwined with yours; how he could never go a day without kissing you. Being apart was nothing short of torture.

"I fucking miss you." He said late one night during a rare FaceTime session -his phone was a piece of shit so he had to 'borrow' John B's whenever he could- and you smiled despite the knife twisting itself deeper and deeper into your heart as you played with the fraying sleeve of his old sweatshirt you wore. 

"I fucking miss you more, J." You whispered back, giggling quietly when he scrunched up his nose in playful skepticism. 

"Yeah, I don't think so, babe. There's no way." 

"Yes, way!"

Although it hurt like hell, you imagined being tangled up with him in the hammock hanging in the Chateau's yard under the North Carolina sky -the light from the moon would turn his blond hair a pale silver as he grinned down at you and cupped your cheek in his hand, closing that final distance between you for a kiss that'd fuel the fire racing through your veins- and you let that fleeting happiness carry you through the night, long after you said goodbye. You fell asleep with your phone in your hand, unaware that your mother had been listening from the other side of your closed door.

You'd been distant from her and your dad in the months since the move, obviously going out of your way to avoid them both by spending all your spare time surfing at the beach, coming home well past sunset and heading straight to your room without a word. They'd taught you forgiveness wasn't something to be given willingly -it had to be earned- and since neither of them had done anything worthy to deserve an absolution, you simply pretended they didn't exist and let yourself stew in your justified anger.

Until the morning after your video date with JJ, they'd wisely given you your space so you were pretty blind sighted to find them both waiting for you at the dining room table, one of your dad's famous cinnamon rolls on a plate set in front of your usual chair. You paused in the middle of tying one of your boyfriend's worn bandanas in your hair before abruptly continuing toward the front door, acting like you didn't see the hopeful looks on their faces that made guilt slowly start to burrow its way into your chest. 

"Y/N, wait," Your dad sprung from his seat and reached his hand out toward your elbow, his face falling when you instantly pulled back and crossed your arms. "Please, let's just talk for a second."

"I'm gonna be late for the bus," You lied and tried for the door again, sighing in frustration when he blocked your path and ushered you toward the table where your mom was sitting, biting her thumbnail. The guilt burrowed deeper: you thought she kicked that habit years ago but there she was, chewing her nail to shreds and it was all because of you (the empty satisfaction you felt knowing you were the cause of her stress made you hate yourself just a little more.).

"Jellybean, don't worry about that. I'll drive you." 

You bristled at the old nickname but sat in the chair your dad pulled out for you anyway. The smell of the cinnamon roll he pushed your way made your mouth water but you refused to eat and kept your eyes down as you played with the stack of bracelets adorning your wrist. "You wanted to talk?" You asked, deciding to just rip the band-aid off all at once 'cause knowing your mom when she was anxious and your dad being allergic to any type of confrontation, you'd have sat there all day until one of them worked up the courage to speak.

"Talk, right." Bill said with a nervous chuckle, shaking his head as he took a seat and swiped his own cinnamon roll from the pan in the middle of the table. "Uh, how are you?"

"Are you serious right now?" You asked incredulously, looking up from your lap with a raised eyebrow. "All this for 'how are you?'" 

"How would we know?" Your mom finally spoke up as she pulled her ruined nail from her mouth, only to start instantly drumming her fingers on the table. "You're always holed up in your room or at the beach, Y/N. You never talk to us anymore."

You rolled your eyes before fixing her with a deadpan stare. "Hmm, I wonder why."

"Honey, you know I'm sorry-"

"Don't, okay? Just don't." You swallowed thickly and dumped the cinnamon roll back into the pan, blinking away the awful burning pressure building behind your eyes. "I can't listen to some half-assed apology that you don't mean!"

"Y/N, we are sorry. Everything's gonna get better, just give it time." Your dad's reply was muffled by a mouthful of pastry and any other time, you'd usually be laughing at his chipmunk cheeks but instead you just stared back down at your hands again, lip quivering as you tried and failed to hold yourself together. You would not cry. You would not cry. You would not-

"Please, honey." Your mom tentatively reached out one hand like she was approaching a wounded animal, her voice so soft you could barely hear it above the rush of blood in your ears. "It hurts us to see you like this-"

Oh, fuck this shit.

"You're hurt?! Are you kidding me?" Your chair scraped along the tile as you rocketed to your feet, vision blurring when the dam finally broke. "You promised we wouldn't move again until after I graduated and you broke that promise. I let myself make friends for once in my goddamn life -I fucking fell in love, Mom! I fell in love with the most amazing boy who, by some miracle loves me, too despite me being a...a complete loser!" You were rambling now but you couldn't find it in yourself to care about or stop the words flying from your mouth. 

"God, I was happy -so, so disgustingly happy it kind of scared me, okay?" You laughed bitterly and roughly wiped the tears from your cheeks, only to have more immediately take their place. "And you didn't even stop to think before you took it all away from me! So don't even talk to me about being hurt 'cause you have no fucking idea!"

Your dad was frozen, eyes the same color as your own blown impossibly wide in the middle of another bite of cinnamon roll while your mom, two tears streaking perfect twin tracks down her cheeks, looked at you like you'd just told her the world was ending -to her, it just might've been but to you, it already had. Neither of them said another word as you snatched your backpack off the couch and stormed from the house, slamming the door behind you.

Halfway to the bus stop, you decided school just wasn't in the cards that day and doubled back, hiding behind the shed in your backyard until your tears had run dry and both of your parents left -Rebekah to the hospital, Bill to wherever he went while you were in class- before heading inside to change into your rash vest and grab your board. Despite it being early Friday morning, Surfrider Beach was full of life and you welcomed the hustle and bustle as you turned off your phone and buried it at the bottom of your bag, leaving your problems behind on the sand. 

You spent the whole day at the beach, blissfully alone and free to do what you wanted, until the sun dipped low in the sky and you were too exhausted to even think about anything but dragging yourself home so you could pass the fuck out. You caught one final wave before heading back to shore, waving goodbye to the group of other kids you'd surfed with all day (the one thing you loved about California: everyone was so chill) and trudged through the sand toward your things where, just as you expected, your sister sat on your towel, clad in a baggy UCLA long-sleeve with her phone in hand. 

"Bitch, you killed it out there!" She looked up as you dropped your board to the ground and sat down heavily beside her, slipping an old Kildare County High School sweatshirt -the first one you ever 'borrowed' from your boyfriend, much to his delight- over your head. "I mean, look at you go!"

You leaned closer to watch the video she took, the barest hint of a smile on your face when you watched yourself perform a near perfect cutback on the screen. "That's 'cause I had the best teacher." 

Daisy tagged you and posted it to Instagram before you could protest, then tossed the phone back into her bag and turned to you with a forced cheerfulness that kind of made you want to smack her. "So..."

"Mom and Dad sent you to clean up their mess." You finished quietly, tucking your knees to your chest and wrapping your arms around them as your sister sighed dramatically and offered a sympathetic wince. 

"As always." She copied your position and you both stared out at the sun sinking over the water, its fading rays turning the sky brilliant shades of orange and pink. It was typical of your parents to send Daisy after you when you were upset -after all, you'd both been each other's only friend for over half your lives- and normally, you'd be glad to see your sister's friendly face instead of your mom's or dad's. That evening, though? All you felt was...disappointment.

"Guess they really don't give a shit about me." You mumbled under your breath, half-hoping Daisy didn't hear you but from the way she snapped her head in your direction, you didn't get your wish.

"Y/N, that's not it. They're just..."

"Just what? Pretending that they didn't stab me in the back? Acting like everything's all hunky-dory and they actually cared about my feelings?" 

You hastily wiped at your face when your sister silently looped an arm around your shoulders and tucked you against her side, her fingers running soothingly through the ends of your damp hair as you vented all of your frustrations -everything you'd kept locked deep inside your heart- until your voice was hoarse and the sun had long disappeared from the horizon and you had no tears left to cry.

"You have no idea what it's like, being so lonely it hurts to breathe. It hurts knowing Mom and Dad have each other and you have Daniel and I'm alone all the time." You lifted your head from her shoulder and rubbed your red eyes with your sleeve. "Worst part is, they just keep acting like I'll wake up one day and magically be okay and everything'll be all sunshine and rainbows again." 

"First off, I wanna say that I'm sorry for not making more time for you. I knew you were struggling and I'm a terrible big sister for not being here for you like I should have," You squeezed Daisy's other hand in thanks as she tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, her voice soft and steady like the waves crashing against the shore. "Second, I definitely don't think Mom and Dad are handling this the way they should, but I think they're trying in the only way they know how. That should count for something, right?"

You sighed and tugged the sleeves of your sweatshirt over your hands. "I guess, but they haven't even tried to see where I'm coming from and they don't get that I'm not the only one they hurt. If I have to hear one more half-assed apology, I'm gonna lose my shit. Again."

"I'm not saying you have to forgive them right away 'cause I sure as hell wouldn't until they say they're sorry and mean it. But..." She said, pulling you to your feet and shaking the sand from the towel you were sitting on, "you shouldn't keep shutting them out, okay? It's not healthy."

You tucked your board under your arm as Daisy grabbed your bag and swung it onto her shoulder before you both started walking toward the parking lot. "What if I'm never ready to forgive them?"

"That's a question I don't have the answer to." She said with a shrug. "You've gotta figure that one out for yourself."

So you followed your sister's advice. You were civil and gradually, your relationship with your parents improved until you could stand to be in the same room as them and even carry on a short conversation, even though you knew you'd probably never be able to fully trust them again. You caught them exchanging glances you could only describe as wounded when you often turned down their invitations to go to the movies or get ice cream or other things you used to love doing when you were younger but for the most part, they took it in stride and you were grateful for their little efforts. Forgiveness wasn't in the cards quite yet but with each passing day, you felt the icy wall around your heart slowly start to melt away.

But every time you thought you were taking one step forward, life pushed you two steps back. Just when you were getting things back on track with your family, the train went flying off the rails when it came to your friends and it was all your fault.

It wasn't like you didn't try -God, did you try- to keep yourself from falling back into old habits but Malibu just had a way of bringing out the absolute worst in you. Your old self, the girl who kept to herself and pushed everyone away, someone you thought you buried in the deepest grave, slowly came back from the dead with a vengeance little by little, so subtly you didn't realize what was happening until it was too late. 

One missed phone call turned into two, texts went unanswered for days or not at all, FaceTime sessions happened less and less. The last video chat had been with Kiara and it ended terribly, after you blew up at her for mending her friendship with Sarah Cameron in the near two years since you'd been gone, spitting words you couldn't quite remember -something along the lines of 'didn't take you too long to replace me, huh' and calling the blonde girl a 'heinous bitch'- but knew you regretted with everything you had and hanging up before she had a chance to explain. You couldn't even recall the last time you talked to Pope or John B aside from the occasional Snapchat and your daily calls with JJ had turned to once a week, if you were lucky.

He was trying, you could tell, and so were you but the deck was stacked against you and you were never very good at cards, anyway. It hurt to try, it hurt not to try, everything just hurt. Nearly two years apart had done their damage and coupled with your debilitating fear of being forgotten that clawed at your chest like a rabid dog, your relationship was on unstable ground and for the first time in almost four years, you were thinking about the end. It wasn't like you didn't love him anymore (holy shit, were you still completely head over heels in love). In fact, you loved him so much you realized that he could do so, so much better than you and the thought rested heavy and bittersweet on your mind, lurking in the shadows until you were ready to bring it to light.

It happened on New Year's Eve. Alone in your room, your hands shook as you answered JJ's call at midnight, his voice tired and a little hoarse from celebrating the new year three hours earlier on the opposite coast and you nearly started crying right then and there when you replied with a shaky "I think we need to talk."

"Babe, what's wrong?"

You took a deep breath and said quietly, "Everything."

"Talk to me." The pure concern in those three words nearly convinced you to call it off, to tell him to forget you said anything and that you were fine, everything was just fine but deep down, you knew you couldn't.

"I've been thinking about us and I...I just think that you deserve better than me. Someone who can actually be there for you when you need her and hold you when your dad's an asshole and see you every day. Someone who can laugh at your silly jokes and share a joint with you and clean you up when you get into fights defending your friends-"

"Babe, what are you talking about? That girl is you."

"Maybe I was but I'm not anymore and I don't think I have been since I left. I just can't be the girl you want, I can't be the girl you deserve, J -I'm a total fucking mess and you can do so, so much better than me."

"Y/N."

You didn't know you were crying until you heard the broken way he breathed your name and salt water dripped from your chin onto the bracelet around your wrist. 

"...are you breaking up with me?" His voice was impossibly small, the quietest you'd ever heard it and the exact moment your battered heart shattered into pieces was when you realized he didn't even put up a fight. 

"I think so." The words tore through you like a gunshot as you cried, curling into yourself on the bed in an effort to ward off the worst pain you'd ever felt in your life and you wondered if it was possible to die from a wound that wasn't even physical. 

He was quiet for a long time, so long you thought he hung up without you noticing through your tears, until he sniffed on the other end of the line.

"Guess we had a pretty good run, huh?" He asked with a watery chuckle and you found yourself giving a tiny, shuddering giggle in response -God, even when you were breaking his heart he still managed to make you laugh.

"The best, baby." The pet name slipped out like second nature and you winced, hastily trying to cover your mistake with an awkward cough but from the sharp breath you heard him take, he'd heard it anyway.

("I'm sorry," you said, and it stood as an apology for more than just your slip-up.)

"I love you, Y/N. Probably always will."

"I'll never stop loving you, JJ. That's a promise."

You let yourself believe him as you laid there bleeding from a gash you couldn't see, a wound you knew would never heal, and you hoped he let himself believe you, too, even when you ended the call without another word and threw your phone away from you, not bothering to see where it landed. The sound of your heavy, broken sobs filled the room and you didn't even mind when your mom, who you knew had been listening from the other side of your closed door like always, barged in and took you into her arms, stroking your hair as you cried into her lap.

If you were supposed to avoid getting hurt by leaving first, why did it feel like everything in you was broken? If you were making the right choice, why did it feel so wrong? You didn't have the answers and no matter how hard you searched, you knew you'd ever find them.  

So you tried to stay busy. You joined the surf club at school, got a part-time job at the local aquarium, did anything you could to distract yourself from the hurt and the guilt and the way getting out of bed every morning was the hardest thing to do. Surf club introduced you to Mackenzie, the one girl who was more ostracized at school -an even richer version of the kook academy you hated -than you, her for being freakishly tall and you for your East Coast attitude, and the two of you became fast, if reluctant friends. Mack didn't try to stitch the gaping hole in your heart caused by your absent friends but she numbed the pain just enough to make it bearable and you were grateful for her calm, steady presence at your side, even as you both tried to keep each other at arm's length.  

Later, you found out she was just like you, friendless and awkward with no self-esteem and a tendency to push people away, and that just cemented your friendship through the summer and your final year of high school.

Mack told you all about her life, growing up with no siblings, having height that she never learned to deal with, and a debilitating social anxiety that made making friends near impossible, and in turn you told her about how you hopped from town to town on your mother's whims, the wonderful friends you let slip away, and the beautiful boyfriend you loved enough to let go, and you both cried together for the lives you could've led.

"You two looked so happy," She said during the first sleepover you hosted as she held one of the many picture frames littering your dresser, her lips turned upwards in a small smile.

You gently took the frame from her hands and ran your fingers over the grinning face of your ex-boyfriend, his arms wrapped around your shoulders as your painted lips planted a deep red kiss on his cheek, and the wave of longing washing over you was almost strong enough to bring you to your knees. "It was the happiest I've ever been."

"Do you miss him?"

"So much it hurts."

i miss you.

i'm so sorry.

i still love you.

You'd typed and erased those texts every day but never mustered the courage to hit send and you couldn't decide if that was a blessing in disguise or the worst possible curse. Of course you still loved JJ: you promised you would and even if you didn't, you couldn't stop if you tried. He was your first love, the boy you so willingly gave your whole heart and then some; you still kept his ring on your thumb -the one he gave you at the airport the day you left- and his bracelet around your wrist, his bandanas in your hair and his face in your dreams and you knew you always would.

Before you could blink, your eighteenth birthday flew by and graduation was upon you.

You thought the second you were done with high school you'd be gone, heading straight back to the Outer Banks and the life you left behind but you found yourself stalling on sending in an application to UNC -Chapel Hill until you missed the deadline for the fall semester. On the outside, you made up a semi-legit excuse about getting your basic courses done at a community college to save money but deep down you really knew why you procrastinated: you were terrified to go back. Ever since your break up with JJ, you hadn't spoken to him or any of your old friends other than the obligatory birthday wishes on Facebook and you wondered if the damage you'd done over the years was too much to come back from, even as you tried to work up the courage to find out for sure.

Another year passed: in between earning college credits, you and Daisy took a sister's trip to Disneyland, Mack asked you to tag along on a jaunt up the coast to San Francisco to see Alcatraz, your parents celebrated their 25th wedding anniversary (your gift was long-overdue forgiveness and they said it was the greatest thing you possibly could've given them). When the time came, you and Mack both sent out your applications to UNC -you for biology, her for chemistry- and the myriad of emotions you felt when you got in was nothing short of dizzying. The old you was terrified, screaming at you to rip up the letter and join your sister at UCLA instead of opening old wounds but the hopeful you, the girl who lived without fear, the girl who fell in love and let herself be loved, screamed louder.

And so you killed the old you once again, burying her even deeper than the last time in a locked chest and throwing the key as far as you could out into the Pacific where you knew you'd never find it. You clutched your acceptance letter close to your chest and took a step east, away from California and toward the place where your broken heart still rested, scattered in pieces across the sand.

Settling in at UNC was surprisingly easy. You and Mack already clicked pretty well as friends so making the transition to roommates was natural and, dare you say it, even a little fun and the two of you quickly fell into a comfortable routine in your tiny apartment off campus in Chapel Hill. Comfortable and yet...that happiness you once felt all those years ago was missing from your life and you found yourself just as restless as you were in Malibu. While you knew exactly what you needed to do, that fear kept rearing its ugly head in the back of your mind, poisoning your thoughts: what if they wouldn't be happy to see you, what if they forgot about you, what if they hated you? What if he hated you?

It was terrifying, picturing yourself turning up at the Chateau with a hopeful smile only to have the door slammed right in your face. Deep down, you knew they'd never do that to you no matter how badly you'd hurt them but when you'd spent your whole life expecting the worst, taking a leap of faith wasn't an easy feat -something Mack just couldn't wrap her head around.

"I don't get it."

You glanced up from where you were lounging on your bed, flipping through your biology notes in preparation for your lab exam the next morning and shot your roommate a confused look. "Get what?”

Mack sat at your desk, her own notebooks lying ignored as she spun the chair around to face you, arms crossed. "Why you haven't hopped on that ferry to go get your man yet!"

You froze for a moment too long before offering a half-hearted shrug as you fiddled with the beads at the end of your bracelet. "It's not that easy. He probably wants nothing to do with me and I don't blame him."

"How do you know? You haven't talked to JJ in over a year, right?" At your tight nod, she continued, "What if he's just like you-"

"Depressed?"

Mack fixed you with a flat, unamused look. "Still in love, dumbass."

You scoffed and propped your chin in your hand as you glanced back down at your study guide, trying not to latch onto that little thought -hope and pain all rolled into one- that sparked to life at her words. He'd said he would probably always love you that New Year's Eve and back then you'd let yourself believe him but now, you weren't so sure. "Yeah, right. No way he's still...still in love with me after I broke his heart."

"Maybe he is, maybe he isn't," Your roommate said with a shrug, spinning around on the chair to grab her things. "You'll never know if you don't get over there, track his fine ass down, and talk to him."

You stared down at your notes without actually seeing anything, the slanted letters of your handwriting blurring before your eyes as the other girl flipped her chemistry book closed and stood, shooting you an warm smile that you didn't see. 

"Listen, Y/N, you're my best friend and I want to see you happy more than anything but I can't take that jump for you. Yeah, it's scary and nerve wracking and you might end up hurt worse than before, so what? That's just...life."

Mack left after that, crossing the apartment to her room so she could get ready for a date with a girl from her psych class, leaving you alone with tears on your face and a million thoughts in your head, all of them terrifying and exciting and oh so loud.

She was right, of course -Mack always knew the right thing to say- and as you stared down at the bracelets on your wrists and the ring on your thumb, the pictures on your phone and the too-big shirt hanging off one shoulder, you realized sitting around moping wasn't gonna solve anything; if you wanted your happiness, your friends, the love of your life back, you needed to step up and fight for them with everything you had. And so you wiped the tears from your cheeks and walked to the cliff's edge with your head held high, ready for the fall and whatever came with it. You were ready to fix your mistakes, no matter how badly it might hurt.

Still, you couldn't do it all on your own. You needed some help to make things right again and while you knew just who to ask, you weren't quite sure if they'd be willing to lend a hand. Desperate times called for desperate measures though and you penned a good old-fashioned letter, feeling like a heroine in a Jane Austen novel as you poured all your thoughts -your dreams, wishes, hopes- onto a piece of paper in bold blue ink and sent it off to its destination on Figure 8, your Hail Mary for a happy ending sealed up neatly in a single envelope.

Mack, bless her heart, did her best to keep your spirits up as you waited on a response but even her ever reassuring presence couldn't keep you from worrying as one week passed by, then two. Halfway through the third you'd almost given up, already wracking your brain for another way to make your plan work when your phone chimed with a text from an unknown number.

i'll help you

And just like that, the moment you'd been waiting for was finally within your reach; you told your parents not to expect you for Thanksgiving break, called your sister for a much needed pep talk, and started counting down the days until you'd see your friends again, for better or worse.

When you left the Outer Banks three years ago, it was sunny. You were sixteen, young and in love and scared about the future.

When you returned, it was in the middle of a storm. You were nineteen, a little bit older but no less in love and definitely still scared about what was waiting for you at the end of the road.

Rain pounded against the roof of Sarah Cameron's SUV as she drove away from the docks and toward the Chateau, her fingers tapping along to the music playing quietly through the radio. You sat in the passenger seat, soaked to the bone from your ferry ride from the mainland and shaking like a leaf despite the towel wrapped around your shoulders and the warm air flowing from the car's vents.

"Thanks for coming to get me," You said, wincing at the awkward lilt of your voice echoing in the small space as you spun JJ's ring around your thumb and stared out the windshield at the familiar sights streaking by in blurred shades of green and brown. Being back opened a Pandora's box of emotions in your head, both good and bad, and instead of trying to sort them out, you let them bounce around in your brain like a pinball machine and concentrated on methodically twirling the warm metal ring in circles on your finger.

Sarah briefly glanced away from the road to shoot you a small smile, her kind eyes softening at your visible nervousness. "Not gonna lie, I was pretty sure you hated me so when I got your letter it kinda...threw me for a loop. Sorry it took me so long to reply."

You wished the heated leather seat would swallow you whole as you winced again and wrapped the towel tighter around your shoulders. "For the longest time, I thought I did hate you but I realized I was just...scared of losing my friends and I took it out on you. You didn't deserve to be labeled the villain in my story when I was the one, um, sabotaging myself, I guess." You took a deep breath and picked at a loose thread tickling your arm. "And I'm really, really grateful for your help."

It was more than you wanted to admit out loud -nearly the same words were written in the letter peeking out from the center console of the car- but at the same time, you knew it was what needed to be said and from the way the blonde girl's fingers stopped tapping against the steering wheel, she knew she needed to hear it. At a red light, she quickly tapped out a text on her phone before tossing in back into her bag with another tiny grin in your direction.

"Happy to help. For what it's worth, I'm so sorry if I made you feel like you were being replaced, I never intended to hurt you or steal your friends or...or, I don't know, usurp-" 

"Sarah, stop. Please," You held up a hand to cut off her apology and offered her a self-deprecating smile. "I'm the one who's sorry. I let my...jealousy get the best of me and I feel so bad about all the shit I said 'cause that wasn't fair to you at all and I hope you can forgive me-"

"Y/N, there's nothing to forgive! We all say stupid shit when we're mad -trust me, I know." She interrupted with a bubbly, contagious giggle that seemed to scare away the gloomy storm clouds gathered over your head for a moment in time. "But I was never pissed at you, ever. I just want you to know that."

Stunned, you settled deeper into the seat and started playing with your ring again as she kept driving on, unbothered by your lack of response. You felt like you were thirteen again, back when Sarah and Kiara were your only friends, before the birthday disaster and the whole pogue versus kook feud that got completely out of hand; it felt...nice and you found yourself hoping that the blonde girl would still want to be your friend again, no matter what the others thought about your sudden return. 

"Thank you."

Sarah gave no indication she heard your quiet confession of gratitude but from the way you watched her smile grow out of the corner of your eye, you knew she did. The rest of the drive passed in companionable silence as you retreated into your own thoughts, your nerves getting worse and worse the closer you got to your destination.

You took a deep breath and let it out slowly through your nose, feeling like your heart was trying to beat its way through your rib cage. You hadn't been this anxious in a long, long time, so long you almost forgot how much you hated the tightness in your chest, how your palms would start to sweat, the way you'd chew the inside of your cheek until you tasted blood on your tongue. By the time Sarah pulled into an open spot beside the achingly familiar Volkswagen parked in front of the Chateau, you were surprised you were still able to breathe.

The sight of the tiny house, one you spent so many carefree days and beautiful nights in alongside your friends, standing virtually unchanged in front of you was like a shot to the heart and your hands, curled into fists on your lap, began to shake without warning. Shit, you were a godforsaken mess; how the hell were you supposed to do this without having a mental breakdown?

"I'm so scared."

The whispered words, barely audible over the torrential rain against the roof, slipped from your mouth before you could stop them and Sarah slowly reached one hand over to give your trembling wrist a reassuring squeeze, the corners of her mouth curled upward in a slight smile.

"Don't be. They're gonna be so happy to see you!"

You turned to look at her, eyebrows knit together in disbelief. "How are you so sure they still care about me?"

"I'm sure 'cause I've seen it. My God, if only you could've heard all the times they talked about you -'I wish Y/N was here,' 'remember that time with Y/N,' hell, just straight 'I miss Y/N so fucking much,'" She said bluntly and shifted in the driver's seat to face you head on, smiling wider at the thunderstruck look on your face. "Pretty sure I haven't gone a week without JJ saying that last one at least once." 

"I thought..." You paused, tongue darting out to run over your dry lips as you tried to put your jumbled feelings into words, "I thought he'd hate me -I mean, after all I've done, you think he still..."

"Loves you? Are you kidding?" Her reply was so enthusiastic it was hard not to believe her as she went on, her words like sunshine brightening the darkest corners of your mind. "He's still head over heels, I've never seen him even look at another girl in three damn years. You know he still wears your necklace, the one with the silver star? Kie told me all about it."

"I-I didn't." You remembered giving it to him the day you left, managing a shaky smile through your tears as you carefully clasped it around his neck, your fingers running over his skin as you settled the charm perfectly alongside that little shark tooth you'd grown to love.

('Be careful with this, baby. It's my favorite.' You had said, crying harder when he'd taken off one of his rings and slipped it onto your thumb.

'Well, this one's my favorite so take good care of it, okay?' His voice had been light but his eyes were heavy with unspoken words that you'd heard loud and clear because you knew your gaze said the exact same things.

don't let me go

don't break my heart

don't stop loving me)

You coughed to disguise the fat tears that started rolling down your face, quickly wiping them away with your sleeve but the blonde girl wasn't fooled as she gave your hand another friendly squeeze.

"Come on, they're probably wondering what's taking me so long," She sent a conspiratorial wink your way and grabbed her bag from the center console. "I told them I was picking up some pizzas but I have a funny feeling they won't be too pissed that I lied."

With a desperate grip on the strap of your backpack and your heart racing, you trailed behind Sarah through the rain to the front porch. 

"Ready?" She glanced back where you lingered at the top of the stairs, anxiously shuffling from foot to foot, and shot you a smile that did little to calm your nerves. "Just wait here!"

She knocked on the door before you could reply and yelled loud enough to be heard over the pouring rain, "Hey, it's me! Can somebody get the door? My hands are kinda full."

"Got it!"

Your bag slipped from your fingers and fell onto the porch with a loud thump at the sound of the voice floating through the open windows, a voice you heard nearly every night as you slept, in your dreams of a future you wanted with everything you had. You knew it better than your knew your own, knew every pitch and tone and lilt; quiet and raspy in the mornings when you woke up in each other's arms, loud and carefree during long days spent under the golden sun with the rest of your friends, soft and warm and laid bare at night when he showed how much he loved you with more than just words.

Sarah gave you an enthusiastic thumbs up before stepping to the side just as the door opened and you suddenly found yourself struggling to breathe as you stared into the wide blue eyes of your ex-boyfriend. JJ stared right back, one of the hands you used to hold clenched so tight around the doorknob his knuckles were white, the lips you used to kiss parted in surprise, the blond hair you used to run your fingers through falling onto his forehead like always and the familiar, beautiful sight of him standing close enough to touch made your knees weak.

"You're not pizza."

It was such a JJ thing to say and you didn't know whether to laugh or cry as you swallowed thickly and shook your head. "Sorry to disappoint you."

"I'm not."

"Oh."

Hope flared white hot in your chest at his words but it quickly started to fade, replaced by fear when he made no move toward you, his fingers still gripping tight to the door, and you felt your face start to heat in embarrassment as Sarah looked back and forth between the two of you like she was watching a tennis match. 

God, you were so stupid. What did you expect would happen, showing up out of the blue after over a year of no contact? Everything would fall into place again with just one long, heavy look? Believing it could be that easy turned you into a complete and total fool, tongue-tied and insecure and weak.

"Yo, what's the hold up?" John B's voice asked from inside the house and Sarah leaned down to call through the open window, "Come out here and find out!"

A wave of dizziness hit you like a truck and you took a sudden step back toward the stairs, arms wrapping around your stomach as it twisted itself into knots. "I'm sorry, I-I shouldn't have come. This was a mistake." You didn't notice the stricken look that crossed JJ's face or the three familiar, stunned expressions that appeared behind him in the darkened doorway before turning away and stumbling off the porch toward the road, leaving your bag behind and you definitely didn't notice how you barely made it off the bottom stair before a set of footsteps hastily gave chase. 

"It wasn't a mistake, Y/N!" JJ's desperate voice stopped you in your tracks, halfway across the yard with more than just rain running down your face. "Not to me, never to me."

His soft touch on your wrist sent shockwaves through your body and you instantly became putty in his hands, letting him turn you around without a fight to face him, watching in fascination as the downpour started to darken his gray shirt and flatten his hair against his forehead. Three years hadn't changed much about him -he was a little taller, hair a little longer, the muscles in his arms a little more defined- and when you met his wide-eyed gaze, beads of rain dripping from his long eyelashes like diamonds, you wondered if he was thinking about the differences time created between the younger you of the past and the you of the right now, too.

"Oh." You repeated dumbly, struggling for something, anything to say that didn't make you sound like an illiterate fool. Even at nineteen, words still weren't your strong suit so you let your actions speak for you as your hand reached out on its own accord to caress the silver star still clasped around his neck, the thumb still wearing his ring brushing slowly against the dip between his collarbones; he shivered, and you weren't really sure if it was from your touch or the cold. 

"Y/N." JJ said your name like a prayer, like he couldn't believe you were there in front of him, and you inhaled sharply when both of his hands slowly, carefully moved to cup your face, his calloused thumbs habitually wiping the tears from your cheeks over and over, even as more instantly replaced the ones he swept away. "I fucking missed you."

You stood there, looking like a damned drowned rat with your hair dripping into your eyes, shivering in your soaked jeans and Kildare County High School sweatshirt, the love of your life cradling your face so gently in his hands, and so many things you wanted to say flooding your brain but only the one that mattered the most managed to get by your trembling lips.  

"I'm still in love with you." 

You noticed a lot when you put your heart on the line: the steady, soothing sound of water falling through the trees, the bright, clean taste of rain on your tongue, how the sun was just barely starting to peek out from behind the stormy clouds, but they all paled in comparison to the little things you noticed about the boy in front of you; blue irises made even brighter by the red rimming his eyes, how he stepped closer on the wet grass until the tips of his scuffed boots touched your worn gray high tops, the way his hands trembled ever so slightly against your flushed face. 

"Well, it's your lucky day 'cause I'm still in love with you, too."

All of the breath left your lungs in one big rush when JJ smiled hopefully -oh, how you loved everything about that smile: his slightly crooked teeth, that dimple in his cheek, the endearing pink blush swept across his nose- and you felt yourself return it without a second thought, your own hope once again burning bright in your chest.

"Even after...everything?" Your voice shook like the fingers you slid into the hair at his nape and he leaned down to rest his forehead against yours, close enough you could feel his breath on your lips when he spoke.

"I told you I'd always love you, didn't I?"

You nodded, a delicious shiver running down your spine when he tilted his head just so and gently bumped your nose with his. You remembered all the times he did that through the years, a dizzying slideshow of memories that flashed through your mind like lightning, and your fingers wove themselves deeper in his hair. 

"I have so many things to apologize for," You said with a tiny, quiet shake of your head, tearing your eyes away from his in shame and staring over his shoulder toward where the rest of your friends watched from the porch, all crowded together at the top of the stairs with identical enthralled expressions on their faces. "There are so many mistakes I've made and people I've hurt and I have no idea how to even start saying sorry for it all." 

"Babe."

The sound of your old pet name caused your gaze to snap right back to his and your heart felt like it was about to beat right out of your chest when one of his hands trailed down the sensitive skin of your neck and then lower until it traced along the curve of your hip and left a line of fire in its wake.

"We'll figure that out later, okay?" JJ said as his fingers tucked a loose strand of wet hair behind your ear, a coy, ardent grin on his face. "'Cause I've been waiting three years to kiss you again and if I don't get to do it soon, I'm gonna lose my fucking mind."

You smiled -a wide, joyful, elated smile- and rose up on your tiptoes in anticipation. "Then kiss me." 

You didn't have to tell him twice. His lips pressed against yours desperately, like he needed you to breathe, like you were the very air in his lungs, religiously, like your mouth was the altar and he was there to worship as he pulled you close, the fingers of one hand tangling in your hair while the others dug into your hip. You kissed him back just as hard and the familiar taste of him on your tongue -mint, smoke, salt- sent that dearly missed spark racing through your veins like wildfire.

It was a little cliché, having your long-awaited reunion kiss in the rain but it was honest and candid and real and so much better than anything you could've dreamed. You lost yourself in his touch like you used to, clinging to him like a lifeline and pouring your whole heart into every fierce brush of your lips against his, both of you pulling away for a moment only to dive right back in each time. It was addictive, intoxicating, and you could've spent the rest of your life standing there in the middle of the yard and kissing like there was no tomorrow if a loud, ear-piercing wolf whistle hadn't come from the direction of the porch.

The two of you broke apart just barely, with foreheads still pressed together and swollen lips, and you couldn't stop yourself from giggling when JJ blindly flipped the bird over his shoulder before pulling you back in for another eager kiss that filled your whole body with an exhilarating, heavenly heat that never faded, even after four enthusiastic voices suddenly surrounded you like an excited swarm of nosy, buzzing bees.

"You aren't the only one who missed her, J." Kiara said, smiling widely as you reached out to grab her hand and pull her into a powerful one-armed hug, her chin resting on your shoulder.

"Yeah, stop hogging all the love!" John B added, throwing himself into the pile along with Pope, who slung an arm around your shoulders as he said, "Great to have you back, Y/N."

Sarah was the last to join and she quietly tucked herself under John B's arm with a pleased grin on her face, nodding when you mouthed 'thank you' in her direction. The six of you stood there in the rain, smiling like fools, and as the sun started to scare away the dark clouds overhead and in your heart, a weight you didn't even realize had been crushing your chest slowly began to lift away with each freeing breath. 

You still had a lot of work to do: wrongs to be righted, apologies to be made, explanations -not excuses- to be given for every shitty thing you did in your past. But as happy tears started streaming down your face once again and you felt the arms of the friends you’d thought were lost to you forever tighten around you at the sight, you knew in your bones all would be forgiven. You knew that after three long years, you'd finally come home.

-

let me know what you think! i read each and every one of your comments and cry because they mean so much to me! ❤

taglist ❤: @sinkbeneathwaves​ @cordeliascrown​ @maysbanks​ @jjpogueprincess​ @bibliophilewednesday​ @k-n-e​ @jiaraendgame​ @alexa-playafricabytoto​ @heypearce​ @sexualparkour​ (send me an ask if you’d like to be added or removed!)

[visceraah]

Unsinkable

My other fic for the @sanderssidesgiftxchange! An analogical titanic fic for @strugglingispointless. And a huge thankyou to @missfay49 for betaing this!!

Rating- teen again! content warnings are in the notes of each chapter

WC- 10873 (I got... very carried away lmao. hope you enjoy!)

Ships- Romantic analogical, backgroundish moceit, and all the sides are in it and interact at one point or another.

AO3

Logan has been the perfect child all of his life. Perfect manners, perfect poise, perfect brain. All that's left is being the perfect husband- marry someone with good status for the family. And he didn't even have to secure his own match, his parents had found one for him.

By all accounts, this should be easy.

Logan learns very, very quickly how wrong that is.

-

There’s no way in hell I’m posting the whole thing here, but the first chapter is under the cut!

Logan didn’t believe anything was ‘perfect’- there was always space for improvement, no matter how miniscule, and settling for anything less with the claim it was already as good as it could be just seemed, as far as he was concerned, lazy.

He pointed this out every time he heard the word, yet it didn’t stop his parents from using it to describe him. The perfect son. Booksmart, eloquent, impeccable manners. But there was always more to learn, and though ‘perfection’ was in itself subjective his social skills could certainly use some work. He, like everything else, wasn’t perfect. His parents didn’t especially appreciate the observation.

The frustrating thing about being ‘perfect’ was you didn’t make mistakes. You couldn’t. Expectations were high and, for the people who put a roof over his head and clothes on his back, Logan refused to disappoint them. So he spent his days studying, learning as much as he could to live up to an expectation he, realistically, knew was unachievable.

It was only natural he spent most of his time in their library, surrounded by dead peoples words. He didn’t mind that much- people were difficult to understand, but books told you exactly what they meant. They weren’t perfect, either, but they were ideal for learning, curling up in an armchair and forgetting about everything and everyone until you’re torn back to reality.

“Logan!” A shrill voice cried, doing just that. He gently shut his book and set it aside.

“Yes, father?”

“Oh, there you are- so small, that’s hardly a gentlemanly way to sit’ now, is it? I could barely see you. Sit up’ now, sit up- there’s my boy!” He doted, Logan’s back instinctively straightening at the command. “Now… Your mother and I have something to talk to you about.”

Logan scanned over his shoulder, a small frown setting onto his face. “I don’t see her.”

“Oh, darling- That’s because I’m doing the talking!” His father exclaimed with a chuckle, seeming to have thought that was a joke. The laugh felt a little patronising, if you asked Logan, and he had no idea why he’d say it’d be a conversation involving someone who wasn’t present, but he nodded like he understood anyway. Experience showed that was easiest. “Well, we’ve got you a match!”

Logan blinked. His father looked at him expectantly. His frown returned. “What would I do with a match...? I’ve told you tobacco makes my lungs feel constricted, and it’s generally Amy's job to light the fireplaces-”

“Oh, Logan!” He laughed again like he’d said something ridiculous. “A romantic match, silly. A fiancé!”

“Ah.” Logan’s eyes flicked back to his book. He’d been reading about constellations before, and though learning of their origins was somewhat less academic than his other studies, it was a passion of his. “Will that be all?”

“You… don’t want to know about him?” His father prodded in that way that signalled he had been meant to ask for details. Logan shook his head anyway.

“I know I’m around that age, and I trust you to choose an adequate match- so long as I live with a library, I cannot foresee any issues.”

There was a beat of silence, for a minute, before his father seemed to come to terms with his answer. He let out a delayed squeal, squishing Logan’s face uncomfortably between his hands and pressing a kiss he had to fight not to move back from to his forehead. “There’s our boy!”

Logan offered him a smile, hand already reaching back for his book.

-

Virgil groaned loudly, tearing a page from his sketchbook and crumpling it up in his fist. He threw the balled up paper at the bin... and watched it bounce off the lid, onto the floor with all his other attempts. He slumped and hit his head on the table. Nothing he drew was good enough. Seemed to be a pretty consistent theme in his life, actua--

“I’m home!” He heard his brother yell, almost like the self deprecation had summoned him. That happened a surprising amount, and Virgil was beginning to wonder if he had some kind of sixth sense for wallowing.

“What’re all these?”

Virgil peered up to see Patton scoop up some of his discarded paper and huffed. “Shit.”

“Hey, language!” Patton scolded, unfolding one. Virgil knew better than to protest because, either way, there was nothing he could do to stop the incoming onslaught of validation. Pretty rude of his brother, if you asked him, breaking in like this and ruining his lamenting. “Kiddo, this is amazing!”

“Kinda loses its meaning when you say that about everything, Patt.” Virgil grumbled, pulling his hood up. “It’s covered in mistakes- I kept having to rub them out but it happened so much the paper just looks messy and flaky, but I kept fu- screwing up and-”

“There’s no such thing as a mistake.” Patton scolded lightly, not wanting to let him fix onto something so negative. “Just-”

“If you say ‘happy accidents’ I’m setting the apartment on fire.” Virgil warned, hiding a small smile.

“You know me too well.” Patton replied with a deep sigh, slipping into the chair opposite him and not quite meeting his eyes. “In other news, though... I’ve got news. Oh! I said ‘news’ twice.” He giggled, and Virgil rolled his eyes- before he registered what ‘news’ meant. It meant something new, which meant change and, yeah, they didn’t exactly have the money to keep going as they were in this shitty expensive flat without any work but where else would they go? Were they homeless now? Was the news that they were being kicked out? He knew they were overdue but they had time, still, surely--

“Kiddo! Kiddo, I’m sorry, I should’ve been clearer.” Patton gently pulled him back to reality, the guilty look on his face enough to make Virgil feel terrible for spiralling. He didn’t admit that, though, because it’d make Patton feel worse, and then they’d just be in their own spiral of upsetting one by upsetting the other and he did not have the emotional stability to deal with that. “I have a job!”

Virgil was pretty much a master in nerves, and he could spot them a mile away- especially in his brother. The wringing of hands and avoidance of eye contact wasn’t exactly subtle. Why he’d be nervous about getting work when they needed it so desperately, though, didn’t seem right. Was he a criminal? Were they going to get arrested? “That’s… good?” He offered, before he could jump to any more awful conclusions.

“It is!” Patton nodded eagerly, latching onto it. “Just…”

“Just...?”

“It’s on a boat.”

Virgil's throat went dry. “We can’t swim.”

“I know, but most of the crew can’t, it’s really safe, and we’ll have our own room and it’ll be warm and-”

Virgil shook his head quickly. “We’ll be surrounded by miles and miles of sea and we can’t keep afloat by ourselves and if it sinks we’re fucked and-”

“We… don’t have much of a choice.” Patton reminded him softly, and they both involuntarily looked over at the red envelopes shoved under the door. Their eviction notices. “Anyway, cheer up kiddo- they say it’s unsinkable!”

[augustheart]

1, 9, 15, 20 for the writing ask meme!

This time around all of these are for fics by the way.

1. Tell us about your current project(s)  – what’s it about, how’s progress, what do you love most about it?

Like I said in the last ask at any given time I have a stupidly high number of projects I’m working on but I will take this time to talk about the ridiculously long one I’m putting most of my energy toward now! (The tab is open right now and it is taunting me with that “last updated yesterday at [...]” notification and its 32,427 word wordcount.)

I won’t say exactly what it’s about even though it’s not that hard to figure out and several people already know exact details but progress is generally pretty good! Not the fastest I’ve ever written because I write in fits and starts but it’s going pretty good! (Just jinxed it though for sure.) I’m working on chapter five of a planned ten, and I really hope I don’t overshoot that by accident. It’s fun! It’s definitely more like the things I used to write when it comes to like... the actual angst/“whump” part because there’s a lot of that here, and I’m very really mean to readers with a couple of these cliffhangers. Chapter two and chapter four are especially rude, sorry.

I love all of it. I love that I get to write about people overcoming hardship and coming together and also beating the shit out of people who hurt their loved ones. I genuinely love what I’m writing now and I think it’s probably one of my best works and I’m glad that I decided to write it all out in advance before posting it because I feel like that gives me time to really perfect it. It also makes it easier to go back and seed plot elements through the prewritten chapters, which is helpful because I keep forgetting about a character and going back to make sure that they get to be there because they’re, y’know, the main protagonist of the show. (Don’t worry there is still a character arc and a story she has, it just gets lost in the shuffle a little because there are like... six storylines going on at once that need to intersect. I think six, anyway. There are a lot. Jeez, I think it may be closer to seven, counting the villains...)

Anyway please [Eric Andre “let me in” voice] show me support when I finally post it because I imagine the fandom will be relatively in brumation when I finally do all things considered. 

9. Are you more of a drabble or a longfic kind of writer? Pantser or plotter? Do you wish you were the other?

I refuse to write really short things, it has to be at least 1,000 words for some reason, but I do both! I prefer my longfics, I think they give me more time to write plot and flesh out characters, but I’ve found that a good median wordcount for me is...like...6,000 words? That’s usually what I fall on when I limit myself to something under 10,000 that has the potential for more than just 1-2,000 words. But I do like to read and write both! As evidenced by some of my current projects shaping up to be over 50,000 words at least if they haven’t already left that count in the dust by now (hi, Half Light, you stupidly long son of a bitch). 

And I am the hellish combination of both! I usually know at least how I want it to end, but the entire journey from A to B is a complete mystery to me. Sometimes I’ll have elements I want to incorporate or characters I want to include and I’ll plan for them but I will never, ever write down my outline. The only time I write down outlines it’s when I need to know the concrete timeline for something that’s set in the past or is taking major divergent choices or both (i.e., I made a timeline outline for Heartless leading up to when Eric approaches Dorothy, a timeline outline for Two of Spades when I eventually actually work on that, a timeline outline for what I nicknamed the “I’m no longer baby I want power AU,” etc). Literally every other time I am absolutely flying by the seat of my pants. I don’t know what I’d do without Hedgi who helps me plot at least half the things I write (at least for the fandoms she’s also in), usually after I try to write them and immediately get stuck like a puppy who tried to jump into a lake and found out the shoreline was actually just a bog.

15. Which is harder: titles or summaries (or tags)?

Oh, it really depends. I’m alright at nailing tags down, unless there are categories I want to use that don’t already have a set tag, but sometimes when I think of the concept for a fic it comes ready-made with a summary and I don’t have to think about that at all, or I’m directly inspired by a phrase/lyric/etc and I can just use that for the title and spend hours deliberating on a summary. Luckily for the project I’m working on now the conceit can just be the summary, and the title took a tiny bit of research but I knew what I wanted the bare bones to be and I just needed the actual names/terms. I do think in general, though, summaries are a smidge harder than titles for me. 

12. Tell us the meta about your writing that you really want to ramble to people about (symbolism you’ve included, character or relationship development that you love, hidden references, callbacks or clues for future scenes?)

I really, really want to answer this one to talk about the different hidden references, relationship development, and foreshadowing that I baked into damn near every level of the big project I’ve been talking about because it’s in literally everything right down to the chapter titles (and there’s a hint to pay attention to them when you read, especially once we get to chapters 6-10, which I am extremely pumped to write), but I also really don’t want to spoil anything, so... time to be as numbingly vague as possible, I guess.

I’m foreshadowing that a character will develop powers by the final act, of course, but I’m also foreshadowing that a different character will not only develop them but use them to basically save the life of another character--and related to that, there is intense foreshadowing of a character using certain things to save someone else’s life at around the same time, which is not subtle at all if you know what you’re looking for (mainly because I slipped it into plain sight) but is part of some nice red herrings if I do say so myself. It also really makes me laugh that I decided to do some, um, “homophobia-shadowing,” where I just... imply that a character is homophobic. I dunno why I just think that’s a funny thing to do even if it has real repercussions for certain characters later. 

There’s some character development mixed that I’m really excited for because it allows a character to go in a completely different direction than they do in canon but in a way that I think still feels really right for them. This happens a couple times, actually, but this one in particular is something I knew had to happen the second I realized how to tie this plot thread back into everything else. I think it’s exactly what the character could’ve needed if this had gone down and I’m really excited to write it. The other character should’ve just been allowed to do this in canon because I think it would’ve fucking ruled.

Also, in everything I write that’s comics-based, whether it’s fic for the comic directly or for a show/movie using comics as source material, everything is a reference. That number code? That could be anything from the first time someone appeared in a comic mixed with the publishing date of the comic itself (i.e. if someone appeared for the first time in 1964 but the comic began publishing in 1959 I’ll use 6459 or 5964) to the creator’s date of birth. I think that I use famous writers of the character/potential creators of the character as street names or last names or aliases whenever I need to bring them up is a lot more obvious. Same with how I use writer/artist initials as “random letters” if I think a code would realistically have one mixed in--I just checked a document for an example of this and found “ADBP5519MWGK6419.”

I also reuse direct lines of dialogue if I think they fit the situation--for example, in Butterfly Effect I lifted the “World War I chic” line directly from Giffen’s Doom Patrol run, which I mentioned in the author’s note, and there’s dialogue in my current big project that’s a direct reference to/play on the “I wish you’d died instead of Mom” line in the JSA Infinite Crisis tie-in (Johns is a fuckin’ hack for that one though and it made no sense for what he used it for, a better line would’ve been “I bet you wish I’d died instead of Mom,” but we don’t have time for that), and I’ll probably directly reference dialogue from JSA/JSA at some point in chapter nine or chapter ten. (Think really hard about how that arc opens if it’s one you’re familiar with, lmao, and remember--there’s no time travel to undo things here!) 

[fuyupeach]

In The Works // Ryuji Sakamoto x Reader - chapter 5

prologue / ch.1 / ch.2 / ch.3 / ch.4

follow/keeo track on ao3 ! i always post there first (which is why this is being posted after MANY months here despite already being on ao3 lmao)

Your first year at Shujin finally ends, the feeling of what must’ve been weights on your shoulders finally dissipating as your footsteps increase the distance from you and the campus.

“Whoa, slow down, ____! I’m just as eager to leave as you, but the ramen shop can wait a little bit.” Ryuji chuckles behind you. You turn slightly to look at him, a small guilty look forming on your face as he limps slightly.

“Sorry,” you say, stopping for a moment as Ryuji makes his way next to you, school bag hanging loosely on his shoulder, the messenger strap on yours gripped tightly between your hands as it flops in front of you from the sudden stop. “Seeing Kamo shit a on the way out ticked me off.”

“But, the last day of school isn’t supposed to be about him. It’s about… ” you shake off the last remnants of your annoyance, jumping and latching onto Ryuji’s arm--Ryuji letting out a small, “Oof.”--as you finish your sentence. “ Ramen! ”

It had become a promise between the two of you to eat ramen as a celebration at the end of the school year since he had come back your third year of middle school. Though you weren’t a big fan of ramen, you would still eat it with him. Maybe you could convince him to let you guys find a place with great ramen and sushi as a compromise between the two of you for the end of your second year.

“Ha, yeah, the douchebag had that ugly smirk on his face, as usual.” Ryuji continues walking with your arm looped through his, the two of you almost at the station. “ Bleh, just thinkin’ ‘bout him puts a bad taste in my mouth. But, you’re right, let’s go. RAAMENN! ” he shouts, pumping his free arm in the air, a laugh escaping you.

-----------------

Your summers had become much more eventful thanks to Ryuji, but it didn’t stop you from your homebody tendencies, you still needed a break from the fun, and the competitive atmosphere that couldn’t be beat when it came to the arcades during the summer. How all these people could be constantly worked up about Gun About beats you, but to each their own. You had finally managed to win one of the electronic prizes from the claw machine with Ryuji’s help, so you were content for a while.

The very same plum colored headphones you had won were on your head as you sit on your bed, back against the wall as you scrolled mindlessly on your phone for cat videos. Your actual cat, Luna, lays at your feet, unperturbed by the lamp that dimly lit your room and her black fur in turn, her ears already accustomed to the sound of Ryuji’s voice that floated into your room from the bathroom. Your mother had already knew Ryuji almost as long as you did, surprisingly agreeing on Ryuji sleeping over for the night, more than likely because of the few all nighters you would spend with him helping him study for finals. Your mother and brother were just like Ann and Shiho, taking opportunities to tease you about Ryuji, your mother winking as she agreed.

“--____! ____!” You hear Ryuji’s voice cut in from your headphones. You check your phone to see it’s past midnight.

“ Shh! ” You say, putting your headphones down on your bed and striding quickly to the bathroom. “Everyone’s already asleep--” You peek into the bathroom, cutting yourself off as you see Ryuji. You had known he was in the process of bleaching his hair--you were actually the one to encourage him to do it as he tentatively brought it up to you one day--, but actually seeing it in the process was something in itself. “Wow.” You bring yourself to say after staring for a few moments.

Ryuji dismisses you with a wave before looking away from the mirror and turning to you. “Their doors are closed anyway; I doubt I was that loud. Didn’t know how high you had your headphones up.” He smiles. “But anyways, do ya mind helping me get the rest of this bleach on the back of my head? I wanna make sure everything is covered. Extra gloves are in the box over there.” Ryuji nods over to the box he’s sitting to the right of on the bathtub counter.

You reach over and pluck the gloves from the box that read ‘Palty’, pulling an extra plastic seat from the corner of the bathroom and plopping behind Ryuji, gloves now on. Ryuji hands you the container with the bleach, quickly running you through what to do. You apply the bleach to his hair as he bounces his knees, tapping his fingers against them as he hums a tune. “Thanks.” Ryuji says, turning to you for a second while you put more bleach on the brush, sending a grin your way.

“No problem, Ryu.” You mumble, focused on applying the sections as well as you could.

“This is gonna turn out awesome!” Ryuji exclaims. You can tell by his voice alone the excitement he’s holding back so you can finish, fist pumping the air once you are.

“I definitely think it will.” You smile back at him as he pulls the plastic cap over his head. “Shouldn’t be too hard to manage since your hair is short.”

An hour passes as you help Ryuji wash and tone his hair, the both of you staring in awe, him through the mirror and you at him. His hair was still a little damp, but the change was one you thought suited Ryuji really well, a small flush tinting your cheeks.  

“For real?” Ryuji smiles as he inspects his hair. “This is so cool.”

“See?” You smirk, eyes closed in a smug expression. “Told you it’d turn out great. You’re welcome.” You open your eyes just in time to see Ryuji holding out his hand, giving him a high five before you two clean up settle down for the night.

----------------

Timeskip 4/11

“What’s taking him so long…?” You tap your feet against the floor, the turtleneck underneath your uniform coat doing a somewhat good job at staving off the cold that came with this morning’s rain. You had remembered that with the early spring season often came rain, so you had snagged an umbrella before you left. If it rained, great, if it didn’t, well then you’d be carrying an umbrella around for the rest of the day. Lucky for you, it was. Knowing Ryuji however, he more than likely won’t have one when he arrives… But seriously, where was he? You take a quick glance around the outside of Aoyama-Itchome Station before shifting your umbrella in your hand, getting ready to take out your phone so you could text him.

You don’t get a full word in before you hear Ryuji’s voice calling out to you.

“___!” You turn to see him jogging towards you and ducking for cover--because just as you guessed, he had no umbrella. “Sorry, slept in a bit.”

“Hah,” You shake your head. “Should’ve known. Well, let’s go, sleepyhead, don’t wanna be late. Get under.” You motion for Ryuji to follow you, hand raising the umbrella just a bit higher. You were on the taller side, so there wasn’t that big of a gap between Ryuji and you.

“Who’re you calling the sleepyhead?” Ryuji pokes your rib as he walks alongside you. “I’m not the one who sleeps over 9 hours on weekends--”

Ryuji’s voice cuts off as he sees something in front of him catch his attention, running ahead and leaving you in confusion. You turn your head in the direction he ran off towards, connections clicking in your head as you see Ann get in the car you both knew well as Kamoshida’s. Oh boy. You sigh. You had asked Ann on multiple occasions about Kamoshida, and if there was anything you could do to help, but she had refused countless times, saying she could handle it on her own, making you promise not to tell Shiho. This didn’t stop you from making up and excuse whenever you would see her being harassed in the school hallways, your method of “girl related things” or “family emergencies” more effective than Ryuji’s that tended to be on the aggressive side. As angry as you are at Kamoshita, the both of you needed to stay on campus; if passive aggressive words were all you could fight with, then so be it.

You jog after Ryuji, careful not to slip in your sneakers against the tiled floor as the car drives off before he could reach it. He passes by another student that seems to be seeking shelter from the rain, his hair and glasses already covering half of his face.

“Dammit...screw that pervy teacher.” Ryuji mutters as he slows to a stop. You follow not too far behind, bringing the umbrella up over his head again, slightly winded. Man, you hated exercise…

“Pervy teacher..?” The student mumbles, gaining the attention of the two of you.

“...What do you want?” Ryuji snaps at the boy, a scowl forming on his face, his classic “vulgar” expression. “You plannin’ on rattin’ me out to Kamoshida?”

“Kamoshida?” The boy calmly asks, slightly confused, phone in his hand moving as he does so.

“Huh?” Ryuji blinks back, now confused. “In that car just now. That was Kamoshida.” Ryuji looks away in irritation. “He does whatever the hell he wants. Who does he think he is--the king of a castle? Don’t you agree?”

“Which castle?” the boy inquires, bringing a chuckle out of you.

“Uh, it’s just a sayin’...” Ryuji trails off as you can’t help but chuckle some more. He pauses for a few seconds before speaking again. “...Wait, you don’t know Kamoshida?” he scoffs, scrutinizing the boy. “Are you for real? You’re from Shujin, right?”

“I think so.” the boy nods.

Hm… “Are you a transfer student?” you ask, peering silently at the boy. He nods as you zone in on his uniform coat. More specifically the ‘2’ on his collar. “Oh, you’re a second year too.”

Ryuji chuckles darkly. “Then no wonder you don’t know him.” You check your phone before notioning your head in the direction of the school.

“As great as this introduction is,” you drawl out sarcastically. “We should get going, I don’t want to be late.”

Ryuji lets out a huff of laughter before turning back to the boy. “This rain ain’t too bad. We better hurry up or we’ll be late.”

You all take a step to move before a wave of pain flashes against you. “Ngh!” You cry out, almost dropping your umbrella. It seems the boy and Ryuji had felt it too, hands both on their heads. You feel light-headed as Ryuji speaks.

“Are you okay?” he asks as you nod slowly. You ask him the same. “Yeah, I’m fine, my head just hurts.. Dammit… I wanna go home.” Ryuji sighs as you keep walking, the boy following silently a few steps behind you.

-------

You make your way through the backstreet shortcut you and Ryuji knew well, the walkways casted in a purple hue that was different that what you usually saw. Maybe it had something to do with that sudden head pain earlier…? You hoped the light-headedness you had felt wasn’t involved with it. You follow by Ryuji, stopping firmly in your tracks as you both gape in disbelief at what was supposed to be the school that was currently in front of you.

A giant castle stands tall in front of you, the skies and clouds around in casted in the same murky purple you had saw on the walk over.

“Um…?” you mumble, confused.

“We didn’t… come the wrong way though…” Ryuji speaks, looking behind him, the boy joining him. “Yeah, this should be right.” you all see the school sign in front.

“What’s going on here? I guess we’ll just have to go and ask.” Ryuji walks ahead as the boy follows him, you still stuck in place.

“I don’t have a good feeling about this… At all.” You state, taking tentative steps behind them as you follow, closing your umbrella.

-----

“Th-That’s weird… Where’s the school…?” Ryuji trails off.

“Did we make a wrong turn?” The boy pipes up.

“No,” You say firmly. “We didn’t. And there’s never been a castle in this town, this just doesn’t make sense.” You bring your arms around you. “Where are we?”

Ryuji pulls out his phone, his eyes widen. “Out of service..?” He puts it in his pocket. “The sign was for the school, right?” You nod. The boy vocalizes his agreement. “Right?! You saw it too!”

A sudden armored figure appears in front of you all, a creepy blue mask as it’s face, wielding a sword and a worn shield just as big as it. You take a step back.

“Geez, you scared me…” Ryuji mutters. “Who’re you? You a student?” Ryuji takes a few steps closer to the silent figure. “Ryuji…” you caution as he waves you off. “Man, your costume’s impressive… Is that armor real?”

The figure still doesn’t respond, moving up and down slightly as it stares down at all of you. Ryuji crosses his arms and leans on one leg. “C’mon, don’t just stand there. Say somethin’.”

“Ryuji.” you say more firmly, taking his arm as another one approaches you. “I think we should go.”

“...H-Hey, what;s goin’ on?” Ryuji questions.

“Is he school staff?” The boy asks. You turn to him with an exasperated sigh. “If they were, they would’ve said something already, don’t you think?”

“...This shit’s real.” Ryuji frowns. “We better run. Go!”

“Got it.” The boy nods.

You all break for the exit to no avail, more knights surrounding you.

“Ugh, what’s with these guys!?” Ryuji exclaims before he’s hit in the back by one of the knights. “Oww… Y-You’re gonna break my bones, dammit! The hell you think you’re--Aagh!”

“Ryuji!” you try to make your way to him before another knight does the same to you, the breath knocked out of you as you fall forward.

“Take them away!” you hear one of the knights say as your surroundings go black.

[cruddyborderlandstheories]

alright well i work best under pressure so given that i now have an hour and 20 minutes before i start a voice call with someone i think it’s the perfect time to do that one video analysis so i can actually start finishing up that maya post... man i really should’ve pumped that shit out earlier, but i kept procrastinating until we got new info. then more new info. and i mean we DO have lots of new updated info, bc i have a whole thing in there about Punk girl i gotta edit out now lmao

anyway

Zane Flynt? this trailer killed me, it’s the only thing i’ve watched all day. like. on repeat.

ive said it before and ill say it again, 3 months ago i call zane attractive on reddit and get ridiculed but then we find out he’s an irish bastard and everyone jumps on the fuck train

anyway

elpis is looking good and not explody/teleporty, so that’s always a good sign

so the locale plus the twang immediately had me thinking of lynchwood but that’s not right

the bar itself looks a lot like that mine area we see, so i’d be willing to guess it’s nearby, you know, if it’s an area in the game at all lmao

like the windows are similar plus the wood

the bar itself is giving me some mixed signals here, but im gonna bet it was taken over by the CoV from the crimson raiders (recruitment banner, but then the CoV logo is on the wall/screen over there)

That, plus the rose on the counter next to Zane seems sus

another mine looking building in the back

also lmao

it’s time to enter the BONEEEE ZONNEEE

no more DAHL dumpsters? F

okay this area looks super familiar

that plus the varkids, this is 100% the same place as this

which is interesting

looks like Zane’s been hanging out on Pandora for a while... kinda upset we didn’t hear about his brothers at all in this trailer, but it was still fuckin hilarious and well worth the wait

those canisters? vats? look like the ones near the burger launcher vid hang on

also some in the back here

so yeah more than likely the same area

also

`lines up the perfect shot`

`completely missed both shots`

lovey, bravo, champagne, sloooow clap

anyway i’d wager this is an old dahl mining camp? probably mining for iridium

you can see the 

conveyor belt thingie here

and also all the minecarts and rails are very reminiscent of the caustic caverns

which probably would have dropped iridium into the vat below it, if said vat wasn’t tipped over onto its side

more shots of the building he’s in

closeup of the rails. which, weird as it sounds, is really great to see because sometimes in bl2 and even tps when you got super close up to a texture, it wouldn’t look too hot, even on the best settings. the textures in 3 are so CRISP i love them

varkid 🤮 i hate bugs. model looks fantastic tho! i just... hate bugs

see the camera is flipped upside down, so miles this cultist is not falling, he’s rising- he’s being lifted up

how nice

im getting percy jackson flashbacks here. this is 100% how clarisse shoved percy into the toilet, right?

with the way the cultist isn’t even trying to get out im afraid zane just shoved a corpse into the dook hut. i mean all the power to ya, man

he’s stuck

also

this building in the back is new

i won’t say it

you know what im thinking

i won’t say it

i promise

~smile~

there’s also what i think is a smiley face sticker on the wall to his right

water physics lookin fine 👌

also the way zane jumps back. bonelesspotter i know you read these, are you picking up what i’m putting down?

MAGIC CUP MAGIC CUP ALL HAIL

see the lack of drink is supposed to parallel hi s lack of companio- im sorry hahahaaha i can’t do this

rose. it’s a SIGN

there’s so much going on in the background here lemme just

im sitting here like >:( because i know i’ve seen that type of wall before and for the life of me can’t remember where

my brain is screaming sanctuary

the actual middle piece looks super familiar

is that what they attach the out of bounds turrets to? possibly.

this bit

also it looks like there’s a dam or something in the back back?

tbh im a lot more interested in the skyway all the way at the top, it reminds me a lot of bloodshot ramparts

cuz it also used to be a skyway

also zane is doing his pose for the main menu screen of the game

and i would say it’s possible this could’ve been the main menu, but the cliff is different, and there’s supposed to be a boxcar/shipping crate on the right (as when u go to options it moves over to it)

more vats! what is the deal with this mine? why is it featured so heavily in this video gearbox tell me your s e c r e t s

you’d think, with zane being the one who’s been around the proverbial block over his years, he’d be on multiple planets throughout his entire trailer. but like 80% of it is pandora. maybe the other VHs are getting featured on other planets? at least he has a reason to be on pandora outside of the main story (maybe looking for his brothers, maybe trying to piss on their graves, who knows)

i don’t know what he’s reaching for but uh

perhapeth the blades are activated by swinging his arm out? could be a hold over from when they were like... actual metal blades and needed to be knocked out into position

i love that he returns the wave after shoving this guy off the cliff

it’s not like he can see you man

go off i guess though

some bar on eden-6 (finally! a new planet!) also i like that the theme here is zane getting into fights in bars. good shit boys

get wrecked kid

i really like the design of this building. i love the windows. maybe part of jakobs manor? looks like maybe it’s a greenhouse or smth given it’s in this garden/courtyard area

which should look somewhat familiar

looks very similar to this area, but it doesn’t look like there’s a building on the left in this shot. maybe they added it in for the trailer 🤷‍♂️

the trees behind the big one (and next to the iron wrought fence) match up perfectly tho

i just really like this shot ngl

i love these fuckign expressions i cant

Friend

okay im sorry here’s a smiley boy

the facial animations are so fucking good this time around

that is all i am doing.

just appreciating the new animations.

SOMEONE HELP THIS TINY MAN HE’S TRAPPED IN A SQUARE

fuck dude we didn’t deserve this man

MAGIC CUP MAGIC CUP ALL HAIL

seriously tho, the glass is gone. idk where it went. im just gonna pretend he was practicing that one iconic Kingsman scene while talking to himself and providing us with flashbacks

manners.

maketh.

man.

also this is my new favorite reaction image

it’s ‘perfect in every way’

you want more booze?

what are your thoughts on the new guns?

where’d you hide the body?

(it’s in the dumpster)

also unlike the magic cup

the rose is still here

Cultist coming to see why the windows of their bar are glowing neon yellow and blue im sure

>shit

it’s cool to know the clone can actually emote

given in the So Happy Together it was basically an expressionless blue demon

still no cup. all hail

some more CoV graffiti!

boops

i am sad we didn’t get to see zoomer in this video at all

zoomer is cute

i like zoomer

anyway

that’s all for the trailer folks

i love the implication that he’s just sitting in this empty CoV bar, talking to himself, waiting for someone to notice and come confront him so he can kick their asses.

anyway this post 100% wasn’t an excuse to rewatch the entire trailer frame by frame or anything

maya post coming soon! wahoo

also i have 10 minutes left lmao nice

[pl-dubois]

Just... Happy - Nolan Patrick

A/N: hoooooooly shit hi!! i’m finally back with another fic lmao took me long enough. realistically, i should’ve posted this fic (when was the stadium series??)  a month ago but i didn’t so i’m doing it now! this was really fun to write and i think it’s rly cute and i hope you guys do too! feedback and comments are always welcome!! Word Count: 2022

Glancing at the clock, you saw it was already 8pm and groaned loudly to yourself.  You were supposed to be at home, watching the start of the Stadium Series game that your boyfriend and his team had been excited about since it was announced.  But instead you were here, stuck behind some car that was going even slower than they needed in order to teach you a lesson about being impatient.  All you wanted to do was curl up on your couch, watch the game, and not move until Nolan got home.  You pressed down on the gas pedal a little harder, trying to send a message to the driver you were following to hurry the fuck up.  Fortunately, you were only about 5 minutes from home, but unfortunately, the car in front of you made the journey feel like an eternity.  At this rate, you hoped you would only miss the anthem and starting lineups, not puck drop.

As if your day couldn’t get any worse, the vehicle you were following decided it was a great idea to slow down even further to piss you off more than you already were.  It was bad enough that you had to work, but that was just the icing on the cake.  Letting out an angry shout, you hit your steering wheel and quickly managed to regain your composure after taking a few deep breaths, but even the thought of work alone made you beyond angry.  It was the reason that you weren’t able to see Nolan play in person tonight.  You had tried to take the day off weeks ago, even argued with your boss about it when he denied your request, but eventually had to give up the fight at the threat of losing your job.  

The car in front of you slowed to turn and you sighed in relief, finally being able to speed just a little to ensure you got home in time.  Soon enough, you were pulling into your building’s parking garage and your next few minutes went by in a blur.  One minute you were getting out of your car about to sprint up to your apartment, and the next you were settled on your couch in more comfortable clothes with the game on.

You knew it was going to be a good eventful game from the moment you sat down.  However, when the first of many scrums broke out early in the first, you got up to pour yourself a glass of wine; it was the Flyers and the Pens, you were going to need to do a little self-medication.  After sitting back down, you then proceeded to experience a rollercoaster of emotions as the game progressed:  booing whenever the Penguins scored, cheering when your boys scored, almost spilling your wine when you gasped and covered your mouth in shock and worry when Nolan got hit, shouting “That was hot, Nols,” at your TV when your boyfriend delivered the retaliation check back, and disappointment when you thought the boys couldn’t get the lead back.  

Fortunately, you were wrong.

You were on your third glass of wine, and had finished just about half of it, when Jake came in hot and tied the game.  This time, when you jumped up to cheer, your wine went with you.

“Fuck!” you exclaimed, your excitement getting cut short.  Running to grab paper towels, you mumbled to yourself,  “Oh my God, please don’t set in the floor, please not the floor.”  Thankfully, you got to the spill before the red stained the hardwood and managed to clean up the mess before the break for overtime had ended, which meant you could be stressed out while watching the game again.  Both teams had played well, and both teams had been very aggressive, but now it was down to the wire.  You thought you were on edge when you started biting your nails as overtime began, but when Nolan took to the ice, your increasing heart rate told you otherwise.  Your eyes were glued to the TV screen with rapt attention, hope and nervous energy filling your body.  And then, just like that, the game was over.

“CAPTAIN CLUTCH!!!” you jumped up, laughing and shrieking with joy.  “Oh my God, and Nolan with the primary assist!”  You sighed, relieved, and flopped back onto the couch with another laugh.  You had to go out to meet the boys now, there was no doubt about it.  

You stuck around for the first bit of the post game, but ultimately gave up, knowing you’d hear all about it from the boys anyway.  Sending TK a quick text inquiring about after game plans, you changed out of your lounge clothes and did a little bit of light makeup.  After putting in a request for an Uber, the buzzing of your phone told you that Teeks had gotten back to you.  Laughing at his ridiculous use of emojis, you slipped on your shoes and went down to wait for your driver.

You arrived at the address TK had sent you in good spirits.  Thanking your driver, you made your way inside the crowded venue looking for your boys.  The smell of alcohol and sweat was almost overpowering and you had already lost count of how many people bumped into you just as you tried to make your way away from the entrance.  You scanned the crowd for a bit, looking for any familiar faces, until finally Travis and Ivan fell into your line of sight.  Silently thanking the amount of wine already in your system, you braved the mass of people to make your way over to the pair.  Sidling up to Teeks, you grinned at Ivan and raised your voice above the blaring music.  “Did I miss anything big?”

“Y/N!” Travis exclaimed, turning and wrapping you up in a giant hug.  “You’re here!”

“I am!” you laughed, worming away to give Ivan a quick hello hug as well.  “Sorry I couldn’t be there in person, guys.”

“Uh no, don’t even,” TK waved you off, letting arm rest on your shoulders, “you’re here now and that’s all that matters.”

“Okay, okay fine,” you laughed, glancing around.  “Wait, have you guys seen Nolan?”

The only response you got was Ivan pointing behind you with a smile.  Turning around, you met the gaze of your boyfriend who was quickly making his way over to you.  You met him halfway and with a huge grin, he pulled you into his arms in a hug that caused your feet to lift off the ground.  He spun you just a little, and you laughed and poked him in the back as best you could.  “Nolie, put me down!”

Your request was granted, but as soon as you were back on the floor, Nolan’s large frame bent over yours and captured your lips in a breathtaking, passionate kiss.  You felt the sounds of the venue fade away as you were lost in the feeling of Nolan and Nolan alone.  You pulled him ever closer, threading your fingers through the soft hair at the nape of his neck, the familiar taste and smell of him causing you to finally relax after a stress filled day.

After what felt like an eternity, you finally pulled away from each other.  The kiss itself left you lightheaded and you had to steady yourself by clinging to your chuckling boyfriend.  Looking up again, you met Nolan’s eyes as he grinned down at you.

“Hi there,” he said, giving you a light squeeze where his hands were resting on your hips.

“Hey, handsome,” you beamed in return, sliding your hands across his shoulders and letting them rest on his chest.  “Someone’s in a good mood.  Wonder why that is.”

His only response to your words was a laugh and an even bigger smile.  Momentarily forgetting you were in a public space, you reached up to caress Nolan’s cheek and raised yourself up onto your tiptoes to return the loving kiss he had greeted you with earlier.

But just as Nolan had pulled your body flush against his and deepened the kiss, you heard someone clear their throat behind you.

“Okay, lovebirds.  I definitely think that’s enough,” Travis laughed as Nolan quickly pulled away and straightened up.  You felt your face go hot; you already knew that the flush in your cheeks mirrored his own.

“Sorry,” Nolan smiled sheepishly over your shoulder at his friends behind you, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear.  Taking a small step backward, to put a little distance between the two of you, he met your gaze once again.  Even in the low lighting, he was absolutely stunning.

“I’m really glad you decided to come out,” he said, just loud enough for you to hear. “I missed you tonight.”

“I missed you to, Nol,” you frowned, remembering once again that you hadn’t gotten to see him play in person. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t make it…”

He was quick to wave off your apology.  “Don’t even worry about it.  You’re here with me now.”  Looking down at you, his eyes were filled with so much love and adoration, you could’ve melted right where you stood.  You just nodded in response with a small smile before leaning up to press your lips to his once again, briefly but sweetly.  

“Congrats, baby,” you murmured when you broke apart, fingers playing with the ends of his hair.  “You deserved this.”

With a laugh and a fond shake of his head, your boyfriend all but swept you up in yet another electrifying kiss.  The way he moved his mouth against yours was intoxicating, but the alcohol already in your system was definitely playing a part in that as well.  As Nolan broke the kiss gently, he let his forehead rest against your own.

You let your eyes flutter closed as you just enjoyed the feeling of his warmth near you, sighing softly.

“You okay?” came Nolan’s voice, tinged with just a hint of worry.

“Yeah,” you opened your eyes again with a smile to meet his bright blue ones.  “Just… Really, really happy.”

“I love you so much,” he smiled softly, tracing light circles into your hips with his thumbs.  “I’m so lucky to have you.”

Before you had a chance to respond, Nolan suddenly straightened up and declared in realization,  “That’s it!  You’re my good luck charm!  You were watching, and we won.”

“Nol, I always watch your games,” you giggled at his dramatics.

“Well, yeah.  But this is different!”

Letting out a full laugh, you playfully gave him a little shove.  “Yeah, okay, Patrick.”  You glanced around you looking for the friends that had been teasing you earlier, but were now nowhere to be seen.  

“I think we grossed Teeks and Ivan out,” you joked with a grin, taking Nolan’s hand and giving it a small squeeze.  “Shall we go find them?”

“Oh definitely,” he smiled in return, pressing a light kiss into your hair before leading you into the throng of people in attempt to locate the rest of his team.  The way he was being more open and smiley than usually made you wonder if he had gotten ahold of some alcohol, though the adrenaline of coming off of such a big win played a part as well. You knew the carefree, more laid-back side of Nolan from when the two of you were alone at home.  His mood tonight was infectious; a smile had never left either of your faces and it made you beyond happy to see him like that.   Gazing up at him, your heart was overflowing with love and you thought the butterflies in your stomach were going to somehow escape from you.  Even after being together for some time, you still felt the same way as you did at the beginning of your relationship.  Being with Nolan was easy; he loved you unconditionally and you loved him right back.  No matter what, you knew he’d be right by your side and you couldn’t be luckier to have found someone who understood and treated you as well as Nolan did.

[bigskydreaming]

Okay, last random post for the day, then I gotta work. But something else I’ve been thinking a lot about lately, is that kinda weird feeling when you don’t like a writer or how they handled stuff and would have preferred someone else write it, BUT at the same time, you also really like something that came out of their writing and probably wouldn’t have happened if not for that writer making it happen.

And I think this also traces back to that post the other day about not settling for substandard representation and holding creators accountable for not doing more, and when its not the creators’ fault but the higher-ups, holding them accountable, etc.

Like, Scott McCall and Jeff Davis is a great example of this, I think. Obviously, he’s one of my favorite characters of all time. And as much as I hate how Davis and co. wrote him a lot of the time, obviously they also wrote him in ways that established all the core reasons I love that character so much, and there’s no guarantee that if another writer had launched a TW reboot, their version of Scott would be remotely like the one that I latched onto. 

And obviously we’ve all talked a lot about how Davis could have done more with Scott’s Mexican heritage and identity as biracial and latino, even though there’s a large chance he would have just been white if another creator had been in charge. I raise that just as another example of what I’m talking about, not one that I myself am looking to weigh in on, I leave that to latine fans. For myself, I’ve obviously talked a lot about how I project onto Scott and identify with him so much as a survivor and see a lot of parallels between his story and my own experiences and the identity they’ve shaped for me. And on that front at least, I’ve ranted just as much about how I personally don’t give Davis any credit for this stuff, because I think it happened in spite of him not because of him, that he was oblivious to the undertones of his own material, or at least the ones that could easily be read into it.

And then there’s Devin Grayson, the Nightwing writer I rant about a lot. The one who wrote him being raped, which obviously is also a large part of why I identify with Dick, and just like Jeff Davis, something I think is in spite of her writing, not because of it, as she too was irresponsible and oblivious in a lot of her handling of her own material. And at the same time, she’s also the one who introduced Dick’s Romani heritage and made that canon, while being very heavy-handed and stereotypical with the way she wrote things herself, and a lot of Rom readers being very critical of her choices there, while at the same time celebrating Dick’s Rom heritage and happy to have him as representation now. And given how few writers have even referenced Dick’s rape since it happened or how few actually acknowledge that he’s Rom, an argument can bemade that neither of these things would have happened if not for her.

And then we’ve got Bobby Drake, who I identified with long before he came out in the comics, and even moreso now that he’s actual gay rep I can point to. But obviously I rant a tooooon about Bendis and his handling of all this, probably even more than I ever have about Davis or Grayson specifically, and I think the difference here is that making Bobby gay WASN’T something that only he would’ve written. Given that multiple writers going back over twenty years have wanted to and even tried to write Bobby as gay or bi, but Marvel told them no, this is a definite area where the higher-ups are as much to blame for my issues with the comics as Bendis himself. Because Bendis is responsible for the writing choices I dislike so intensely in this matter, but Marvel’s higher ups are responsible for Bendis being the one who got to make the writing choices in this matter, even though other writers were willing and able.

I’m honestly not sure where I’m going with this, lmao, and don’t really have a point, sorry if you thought I did. I’m more kinda just thinking out loud. Except...in text. Whatever.

Anyway. All of this I think goes to show one of the best things about storytelling IMO....which is that stories grow with the telling. Always. Storytelling is like one giant, never-ending game of telephone. Where every time a story is retold, or adapted, or even just passed along from one person to another via a summary of the events - something gets added to it. The last person to pass it on in some fashion added a little bit of themselves to it, their own personal experiences and perspectives and priorities helping to further shape or flesh out the story even further. 

Sometimes by adding little details or context that maybe weren’t even in the original source material, but that we unthinkingly add in, maybe because those details are things that came to mind when reading or watching the story since they go hand in hand with why the story appealed to us in the first place. Like we add them in without realizing it because it seems so obvious that there are little holes and gaps in the story and these are the things that SHOULD go there, should’ve been there from the start. 

And other times, we add to and grow stories in the telling, somewhat counter-intuitively, but by ERASING little details about the stories or elements that feel like they don’t belong. Like filing away the rough edges to leave a more finished, polished piece before we hand it off to the next person, our audience for our retelling or recounting of it. Again, often not something we’re even consciously thinking about, our minds automatically leaving out the parts that we take for granted don’t fit or shouldn’t have been there in the first place. 

So any time we interact with a story, have some kind of personal relationship with it or connection to it, its like that story exists on two levels, in two separate ways. There’s the story as it was originally told, initially laid down, the story a creator constructed based on their own personal experiences, lens, and priorities, the story both as they intended to write it and as they actually wrote it, what ended up on the page. And then there’s the story as it exists once distributed to a wider audience, the story as its retold and recounted and transformed and shaped and honed and added to.

And you can’t divorce that second, larger version of the story from the initial ‘baby’ story it grew from. Not to get too precious here, but as with anything that grows, either physically or metaphorically, there is a sense in which its alive, and can be compared to other living things. Like take any person you meet. That person grew from a baby. The baby they were is fundamental to the person they are now. Who they are wouldn’t exist if it weren’t for who they were.

But how much does the baby they were actually matter, when interacting with the person they are now? No, you can’t separate the two, the one wouldn’t exist without the other, but in every way that actually matters, its only the larger, more grown version of that person that you’re actually interacting with, engaging with, INTERESTED in engaging with in the first place. How much credit do you actually owe whatever they were like as a baby or young child, for them growing up to become someone you like and value as a person now, someone who adds something to your life?

I think its something similar, with the way we interact with stories, and I think that’s part of why I have such a problem with the way we’re...encouraged to give proper credit and even show gratitude to storytellers for giving us certain stories in the first place. And I say that as a writer myself, and one who LOVES feedback, and loves interaction, and collaboration, and for whom a large part of the appeal of writing is seeing what someone makes of something I’ve written, or what they go on to do with it.

But I mean.....there’s no doubt that however these things originated, Dick Grayson’s existence as a male rape survivor means a ton to me, as one myself. Just like him being Romani means a ton to a lot of Rom fans, and the way Scott McCall being Latino means a ton to a lot of latine fans and how he means a lot to survivors in other respects and how Bobby Drake being gay means a ton to a lot of LGBTQ+ fans.

But in a lot of those cases, these characters mean so much to us more as a result of what other people have done with them SINCE those initial stories laid out these aspects of identity. It’s not Devin Grayson’s fumbling attempts at writing Dick as Romani that most Rom readers I know celebrate and enjoy his character, its for what others have done with that heritage on their own. Adding to it with their own personal experience, or at least researching attentively and with proper credit and deference paid to people whose experiences they listen to and learn from, etc. Just like, its not her issue with Nightwing and Tarantula I would actually cite as the reason I identify so strongly with Dick Grayson, but all of the fics and meta and headcanons written about that issue by other survivors who added to it and fleshed it out and made it real and lived with their own experiences and takes, while filing away the parts that just didn’t work for them.

Then again, we could argue that at least we still owe something for having that opportunity in the first place, right? That there was even that seed planted, that other people cultivated and grew into the story we actually like and engage with.

Except, idk. Like, intent doesn’t matter in terms of harm done, we say that a lot and its true. The fact that you didn’t intend to hurt someone with something doesn’t mean that they weren’t hurt. But that doesn’t mean that intent doesn’t matter, that it doesn’t make a difference in how something comes across. That sometimes it isn’t THE difference, in and of itself.

I rant about non/con fic and hurt/comfort fics all the time, fics that are really just an excuse for torture porn, even as I write stories that deal heavily with rape and abuse. And I don’t find this remotely hypocritical, because for me, this part traces back to intent. I’ve got zero interest in people using trauma such as rape or abuse for a narrative REASON. Like when writers talk about using rape as a tool to reveal something about a character, to change them in some way or develop them, to show what they’re capable of surviving or toughen them up, anything like any of that, I have an immediate and visceral reaction of FUCK NO. That train of thought is basically a dealbreaker right there, because I’ve got a deep-seated hostility to the idea that rape or any kind of trauma can be a tool. Even in fiction. Because no matter how you frame it, that tacitly perpetuates the idea that rape or abuse can have a purpose, a reason for existing, for happening to a character or a real person, and from there it’s only a few small steps to justification of it happening. The idea that being raped or abused can make a person better, can change them into a better or stronger or person in ways no other experiences or circumstances can manage - that’s deeply abhorrent to me, and I’ve got no respect for stories that go this route.

But at the same time, I do write stories about rape and abuse and read and engage with stories about this stuff, like various stories about Dick or Scott. And for me, the difference in these stories, the reasons why I’m interested in these but not those others, is because of the intent behind their writing, or at least what I perceive that intent to be, based on the writing. I’m interested in the stories that aren’t about writing rape/abuse to tell a story about a character, but stories about characters who have been raped/abused. Stories that are about the PEOPLE affected rather than the events that affect them. That treat rape/abuse not as a narrative or plot device or a thing that happens with purpose or for a reason, but rather just as things that happened to the people the story is about. Treating these things as lived experiences rather than part of an author’s grand design, or the real-life version of these things as part of God’s grand design. I don’t read/write stories about rape or abuse, I read/write stories about survivors. The difference is in the intent. Writers who are trying to make something horrible into something useful versus writers who are trying to make something out of the aftermath of something horrible. The latter value the survivor’s pain; the former don’t value their pain enough not to subject them to it in the first place.

And this of course relates to writing identity as well as experiences. With writers like Davis and a Latino character like Scott or writers like Bendis and a gay character like Bobby. It comes down to intent. Why are they making these choices, giving these characters these identities. Are they doing so for a purpose, because they think it says something about that character or will result in something? Or are they doing it to tell stories about a character with this identity? Because just like with certain lived experiences, I’ve got no respect for writers who treat real life identities as a tool, as something that can be chosen with purpose, to achieve specific goals. 

Most latine fans who are dissatisfied with Davis’ handling of Scott as a biracial or Latino character specifically, IME they cite the problem being how little interest Davis showed in actually expanding on that or doing anything with that aspect of his identity, even while happily taking credit for casting a Latino actor in his lead role. The vast majority of my complaints with Bendis and his writing of Bobby’s sexuality go back to how little interest he ever showed in writing Bobby as a character, having him explore his sexuality rather than just treating his coming out as a character benchmark or milestone that would forever have Bendis’ name on it, and that’s all he needed or wanted out of that. Why would anyone owe a writer credit or praise or gratitude for using someone elses’ identities for personal achievements? 

The flipside though is what about writers who write outside their lane in an honest and sincere attempt to tell stories about people who have these identities, stories about the experiences that come with them, stories about these people as people. Okay sure, that’s different, that’s great. But I mean, its not THAT great. As a white dude, I don’t ever think, gee I sure am grateful that this writer sat down and decided I’m gonna make this character a white guy because I think white guys have stories worth telling. LOL. Nah. So why should I be like, well gee, I sure am grateful that this writer sat down and decided I’m gonna make this character gay or bi because I think gay or bi guys have stories worth telling? I wouldn’t. I shouldn’t. Congrats on seeing me as a person whose identity and experience has value, same as I am and do because of my whiteness or my maleness? I’m....grateful? Nah. I mean, yes, this is better than writers like Davis or Bendis who are only writing outside their lane to get credit and praise for doing so, but just because its not ACTIVELY bad, doesn’t mean its like....ACTIVELY good or worthy of gratitude instead of just....hey, here’s a thing a writer did, they wrote a story with someone who’s like me in these specific ways. I’m a person to them.

Again, I have noooooooo idea where I’m going with any of this or what I was trying to say in any kind of cohesive fashion. This was just....stream of consciousness musing that I will now wrap up because I’ve run out of steam and/also I gotta get back to work. Make of it what you will, like, if you can find something useful in this, hooray and also, impressive, lmao, and if not....let your eyes glaze over and scroll past, lololol.

[riisinaakka-draws]

Under the cut there are some thoughts on the process and ideas behind the drawing JOURNEY INTO THE DARK if you are interested :)

I thought it would be too big of a burden to mention all of this within the art post. This is also for my own archiving purposes (so I won’t forget what was involved! :D) and it’s always nice to see how things start and develop...

Long post ahead! (contains spoilers for the show)

COMMENTARY:

I continued this work bit by bit over a period of several months (I started this just when s4 started airing) and only finished it recently. A few hours then and then (whenever I felt like it or had time for this), but I can’t really say how much time it took all together. Occasionally there were weeks/months that I just forgot about it and was more focused on other things...

Most of the thoughts here are fleeting ideas during the process (how a thing X lead to thing Y) and some personal fun and not something I actually spend too much time on dwelling or planning (or researching lol). I have probably forgotten some already and some happened by accident and some I am just incabable of putting into understandable words.

None of these are any actual instructions (or limits) of “this is how it’s to be seen”. Art doesn’t have to be or even shouldn’t be explained in some cases, but I just wanted to document the process and open up the symbolism since there were a lot of (random) things involved.

It’s also fun to look back on things and how they evolved and what their connection to other things were.

You are free to have your own interpretations of course and I hope this additional post doesn’t ruin any of those :)

The initial idea and motifs:

Flint decends the steps from light to darkness and Miranda is standing behind him as an accomplice/orderer. Stepping stones get bloodier by every step and gold coins are glimmering on the path (Urca de Lima’s gold). Sword is drawn out for war and slaughter. Black water as in the opening credits + general darkness to represent the abyss. Reflection shows James when he was happy (him returning to Hamiltons) and how much he has changed compared to that (McGraw vs Flint). Sort of stage / antique/ greek tragedy(?) setting with marble columns, red curtains (like a myth, a monology or a story or something).

A white feather shining in the dark to show there’s always hope and another way out. I already explained this in another post, but here it is again:

Short answer: Silver (although some of you may not like it) Long answer: the feather is for “hope and an alternative for war” (the dove of peace..haha). Also remember the trap Flint laid in season 1? The feather and the logbook in his drawer -> leads to Silver’s capture later.

The feather is also a reference to the swan of Tuonela (in Finnish mythology the river of Tuonela separates the world of the living and the dead (compare Styx in Greek mythology I guess). Flint decents to the world of death (also represented here by the pale and dead-looking organic shapes of the opening sequence’s sculpture… thing).

Anyway, the feather is mainly about Silver: both how they end up meeting in the beginning (the trap, and then some new hope along the way and eventually some light in Flint’s miserable life) and what (who) also ends up being “the end of Captain Flint” (a tiny nod to the swan guarding the border between the living and the dead).

Visually I wanted something to shine in the darkness to remind there’s always hope and another way out. At one point it had an additional thin string leading to Thomas’ hand. You know, a connection to the memory (and to the reason of Flint’s revenge and war path and so on) but the idea didn’t work so well and felt too distracting so I left it (the string) out. And then the finale happened (!!!) and the reflection became also the future.. :D

a way out of the darkness… :)

There was also a post going around a long time ago about the empty space (the absence of Thomas) next to James and Miranda in some scenes, so I incorporated that in here, too. Unfortunately I cannot remember who did the post, so I cannot link it right now :| It was something about how some of the New World scenes were framed in a way that it looked like there was something missing (aka the third person of the trio).

Here’s the early drafts again so you don’t have to scroll back:

I didn’t like the first composition that much and continued it into another direction with similar elements and the main ideas.

The stepping stones changed to wooden planks: angrier zigzag lines (rage) and also the idea of “walk the plank” (except that you don’t know when and where the nightmare ends...)

I ditched the gold coin idea. The overal setting became more spacious and gloomier to emphasize the vastness of abyss and the smallness of people. The stage / arch became the staircase seen in Flint’s dreams.

The whole thing is sailing on a similar sculptural thing seen in the opening sequence which for some reason made me think about the floating theatre in the Moomins (when the Moomin valley is flooded in one dangerous midsummer. LMAO):

(*coughs* lots of water, a stage and some drama after a disaster...so..)

(At one point I was also thinking about Howl’s moving castle and how that too is a monstrous looking vessel travelling between worlds (well, opening doors) but how the moving castle itself is also composed of various other things... and how in the drawing Flint would be stepping out of the ride for a moment to do some dark deeds in one of these ‘worlds’ etc.)

Black Sails opening sequence - is there a term for that cool monstrosity?

Some other inspiration and references:

Akseli Gallen-Kallela’s “Lemminkäisen äiti” (Lemminkäinen’s Mother, 1897).

(notice the swan, the black water, blood-covered stones, ‘the mother’ and the red-bearded ‘son’ waiting/asking for a spark for new life after the mother has combed his broken parts out of the river and assembled them back into the shape of a man)

I must admit that I didn’t bother to think any deeper parallels with Lemminkäinen and Flint (or the Mother and Miranda) beside this (more about it later though) and mainly had my thoughts just on this painting and its visuals because it is so well known (and liked) in Finland.

Moving on.

Screencaps from season 2 (source here):

I chose the latter stairs for the reflection (although modified) only because they were in London and there is an arch above them (to mirror the window in the drawing)

Some steps futher when the needed elements are more clear:

At some point I tried things with a lot more light and coldness (below, left pic) to channel some of the the dream sequence in s3 but in the end I chose the darker atmosphere, faces in shadows and I also wanted to preserve the red colour somehow (right pic):

The reflection sketch (at some point), although most of it cannot be seen in the finished work and thus didn’t need too much details. Young lieutenant James McGraw returning to London from his voyage:

Also, (and I am so sorry about this, but it was “fitting” and I decided to keep it..) in the reflection (when flipped and put in its position) the plank (their unfortunate blood-covered war-path and future) accidentally hides Miranda’s face and decapitates her so to speak and she won’t be there anymore ;_;

Thomas, on the other hand, is in the reflection to meet James -  both in the past and again in the future - but not in ‘the present’ where Miranda is.

Miranda in Flint’s visions (s3 ep3):

When I first met you, you were so Unformed.

And then I spoke and bade you cast aside your shame, and Captain Flint was born into the world. The part of you that always existed yet never were you willing to allow into the light of day.

I was mistress to you when you needed love. I was wife to you when you needed understanding. But first and before all I was mother. I have known you like no other. So I love you like no other. I will guide you through it, but at its end is where you must leave me. At its end is where you will find the peace that eludes you, and at its end lies the answer you refuse to see.

And then in s3ep5: You can't see it yet, can you? You are not alone.

The end part of it is seen in the fandom as a reference to Silver (and his partnership) and how Flint’s mind is telling himself to see it too. And I agree on that. I don’t think James had any hopes for Thomas being alive (especially in s3). As I mentioned earlier I originally did the reflection to show him (Thomas) only as a memory. Then the finale happened and the reflection got its double meaning :)

And here again Miranda as the mother (there has been better discussions about this topic and speech in the fandom so I won’t go more into that now). In the inspiration painting that I showed earlier the mother had assembled his son back together (for rebirth / reanimation) <--- Miranda being part of the creation (birth) of ‘Captain Flint’.

Aaaaand here’s the feather again and Silver’s words (and sort of motto):

“Take it from me, there's always a way.” (season 1)

“Nothing is inevitable here. I'm showing you a way in which we can survive this.″ (season 3)

Some further fixed details and adjustments. In the end the wall almost disappeared and to me it made this feel a bit like “floating alone without a shelter on your back or a place to return once you leave its premise”... I fixed the perspective of the planks (took me surprisingly long to notice what was wrong) and got the bloody red back on the planks (and not leaking too much on the water).

I wanted the water to be quiet, pitch black and endless and the reflection to seem like a dream. I probably should’ve done everything a bit more detailed or sharper, but in the end it didn’t feel so necessary (and it would have been way too much work, haha).

The final drawing:

The planning and initial idea was done after seeing s3 and just when s4 was beginning so there weren’t any thoughts linked to s4 while making this (other than the surprise connection with Thomas). Most of this I did paint after s4 though, but only to finish what I had already started.  

One more thing. I also made “the doors of the warship” -drawing after planning the JOURNEY INTO THE DARK (although I posted the doors pic first, since it was finished earlier).

It has a similar lighting and the theme of James and Miranda facing together ‘the civilization’ although this time they are stepping towards the light again (in hopes of closure and the promise of new life... which doesn’t go well as we already know ;_;).

James and Miranda about to leave the warship and meet Lord Peter Ashe in Charles Town:

So, here we sort of have a beginning and an end for their journey in the dark (together)  - believing that there are just the two of them left from the original trio.

Aaaaaand, that’s about it. Sorry about some repetition and messiness.

As I said in the beginning of this post, you are free to have your own interpretations (and I hope this post didn’t ruin any of them). These were just the things and thoughts that went into this work (or were stumbled upon along the way...), but you don’t have to take them to your heart.

Thank you so much for checking out this post and I hope it was worthy of your time! ( ˘ ³˘)♥  

[mikanrulz]

snb:vs ep17 aka where do I even begin with this

WARNING: nothing but salt in here, so if you think this ep is good and it makes you happy, do yourself a favor and scroll past please.

This ep post is divided into four parts:

the good part

the salt is real for azazel part

charioce the fragile baby bird part

tl;dr part

now

1. ON THE GOOD PART

first of all, THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR BOTHERING TO CARE ABOUT AZAZEL, KAISAR

currently you (and the grandpa demon chief from ep15) seem to be the only one to do so.

haha…ha… /cries

I guess I should just be thankful that kaisar at least mentioned his name, considering in ep10, 11, 12, 13, 14 not only he doesn’t get to appear, none seems to remember his name or his existence at all.

(bacchus and hamsa too seem to be forgotten, while we’re at it)

Also dang favaro looks so hot this ep? And considerably older. Something about him is just cool all over, but cool in that fun uncle whom you like to play with way, not cool cold way.

You have no idea how happy it makes me to see his armpit hair is still there hoho

Also favaro says that azazel’s not there since morning… meaning Azazel’s actually an early morning person???

That’s… unexpected lmao

I kinda thought with his being demon and also his vampire complexion, he’d have a vampire habit of sleeping in the day and be awake in the night.

But then again, he does have a job as an undertaker in the stadium, so uh, sorry for doubting your dedication azazel! Just because you’re a demon who seems used to being spoiled and egoist, doesn’t mean you’re lazy!

…why does he have to disappear just after he agrees to work together with kaisar in ep before? Doesn’t it look like he goes back on his words??? Show why you keep doing this to him yo

Well

Rita is actually good with make up and costumes. Color me surprised, bcs her doctor outfit is so…. baggy. But I guess attending patients are easier in such outfits compared to her casual ones lol

Meanwhile on heaven, a new ship is officially born

Sofiel really just says that, while fully knowing bacchus fell from grace bcs he chased after a human girl.

El officially has two moms now, aren’t you happy El >/////<

Speaking of El, nobody calls him El on earth, so probably even if azazel’s here, he would still not know that El is mugaro’s real name.

I was kinda hoping mugaro and nina are still in each other’s clothes by the time they meet azazel just to see his reaction to it and confirm what his reaction in ep7 actually was, but alas, since azazel’s not even shown at all, might as well have them back in their own clothes.

/bitter

Kaisar formally introducing himself to mugaro is weird bcs well, haven’t they met before? Countless times? Maybe not at night while azazel’s doing his rag demon routine, but during azazel’s job at the stadium? And during ep8?

But then maybe mugaro being jeanne’s kid makes a difference?

This part makes me a bit confused bcs all this time, I thought Kaisar’s actually aware of azazel being in Anatea (from the start maybe, bcs rita, so at least two years?), he just doesn’t realize until ep1 that the rag demon is azazel. And if he’s known azazel in the city for two years at least, he should’ve noticed mugaro’s existence, since mugaro hardly ever leaves azazel’s side, be it night or day.

Also, how long azazel’s been in anatea anyway? It should be more than two years, but none mentions it so far right? Even grandpa demon chief from ep15 just says azazel going away alone without any time modifier.

And yes, hamsa in that vest is cute <3

…now on to the hard part:

2. THE SALT IS REAL FOR AZAZEL

First of all, let me make it clear: I don’t care who ends up with who in the show; that’s what fics and fanworks are for.

and I know I keep repeating this, but from the start, I actually already expected nina and chari to end up together, so them ending up together, now, does not surprise me.

What surprised me is the way they (the writers) go to achieve it: which is by consistently undermining a “love rival” or another character (azazel) in order to make chari (the true love interest) looks good in comparison.

And this is… just so very painful for me as azazel’s fan.

I already wrote a bit about how azanina scenes in those early eps were actually foreshadowing for charinina plot, and it happens again in this ep.

Just compare the difference in the way the anime shows azanina and charinina interaction; same street, same place, but chari is a charming playful gentleman who ends up taking nina in a ‘romantic’ gateaway while azazel is a pushy jerkass who ends up on his ass in a comical position courtesy of rita’s punch.

Also pls compare these lines:

Those two lines technically commenting the same thing: meeting and reacting to each other.

And while Azazel’s line is more matter of fact and had a sense of inevitability to it, like “what happened happened and let’s just accept it and move on to do something about it”,

Chari’s line is unnecessarily more dramatic, and also more romantic, bcs wow how he makes nina sound so special and like she’s the only one, like he’s blaming fate or whatever, while at the same time confirming why yes fate is the one who makes us meet; if only fate isn’t so cruel blah blah blah

Sorry if I sound so skeptic bcs honestly I’m just… skeptic.

Like, wtf dude who are you? Who is this emo ooc parading around in charioce’s shoes? I don’t know him.

He has never showed sign of being emo even once during the whole 16 eps and then suddenly this??? yeah right.

But back to that line, I won’t blame nina if she falls for chari’s words hook, line and sinker bcs she always seems to be drunk in love in her own separate world and at first glance chari’s words is totally romantic – if you like your man dramatic.

So… to sum it up, from nina’s perspective (and what the show wants you to see it as) Azazel: matter of fact pushy jerkass with no romantic bone whatsoever to his body Charioce: romantic charming guy with romantic confession and is kind to kids.

Haha ha…. /bitter

AZAZEL DESERVES BETTER THAN TO BE A FODDER FOR CHARININA PLOTLINE

/phew

There I said it.

Just, you know, it seems everything azanina did is eventually going to be done also by charinina, except in a way that’s much cooler and romantic; and this is not bcs of chari or azazel’s characterization itself, but bcs the *show* needs and intends for chari to look better compared to azazel.

It’s in *the way* they show it, and not the act itself that actually really matters.

Personally, I hate how, bcs of Nina’s romantic and obvious shoujo manga view of her world, in the show Azazel’s treated like a persistent former boyfriend once ep6 rolls around and chari appears for real; like he’s suddenly being broken up by nina even tho 1) they’re not lovers in the first place, 2) he never shows romantic interest in her.

And honestly, I could understand azanina shippers’s frustration with the show’s current progress, bcs up to ep4, they have the most interaction and nina’s reactions to him is so very… leading, to say the least. Add to it the show’s marketing and main visual w/ nina surrounded by four guys, it seems at least azazel and chari had the same chance with her. (fava already has Amira and kai has rita, so they’re just not available to nina)

But then by ep5, it seems the whole 4eps doesn’t happen and azazel’s just mugaro’s boyfriend/brother/guardian aka *just* nina’s acquaintance, nothing more.

Add again to it the fact that nina doesn’t even seem to remember azazel exists ever since ep10 until now ep17. Not once does she ever wonder about how he’s doing, despite how she feels guilty over him in ep8.

Even taking the shipping issue aside, it’s just not good overall for nina’s characterization to forget about him and her guilt so easily, bcs that means once the ‘problem’ is no longer in front of her, she instantly forgets about it. That makes her so… flighty, easily distracted, and just…unreliable, to say the least. And seems unsympathetic toward others.

I’m not saying what happened to azazel is her fault; it’s completely his and his fault only.

I’m saying it’s important to follow up on her guilt and explore it a little perhaps, and not just act like it never happens, bcs she *did* say she feels sorry for what happened in ep8.

I *did* like azanina’s interaction more than charinina’s even though I didn’t ship them romantically.

But now (or more precisely, ever since that hot spring scene w/ nina and Jeanne) I just want nina to stay faaaaaaar away from Azazel.

esp since even if he meets her again, he's only going to be used for yet another charinina fodder and example how he's such a jerkass loser while chari is a charming romanticist anyway

GIVE HIM A BREAK, SHOW, GDI

I understand her head is full of charioce or something but the fact she COMPLETELY forgets about azazel despite their past interaction and what happened between them and how they saved each other at least once is just… haha… ha…

You know, if this pattern continues, nina’s actually going to forget about charioce too the moment another hot looking guy pays attention to her for a bit probably haha

So yeah.

I read someone says azazel has his own story and Nina has her own story, and that they just doesn’t care about nina’s. I AGREE COMPLETELY.

Indeed azazel and nina (and chari too tbh) have their own story, but while azazel & charioce’s story happens in the same line, Nina’s story while seems to happen in the same world, just doesn’t connect to their story at all (so far anyway, yes, even tho it’s 17th ep already).

3. CHARIOCE THE FRAGILE BABY BIRD (according to nina)

First of all, boo hoo, wtf why is she still getting red-faced by kaisar? I thought she already has her true love in charioce and no other man would do, but then kaisar appears and she’s suddenly back to her old self?

(esp when azazel no longer does it for her???)

Hamsa’s line makes it clear tho: that red-faced scene is done purely for comedy and not for any consistency or plot-relevant thing. If you’re trying to be consistent, show, then try to show her character development instead, her who is no longer easily blushing anymore. I thought this is already an established plot point, but apparently not, and it irks me greatly.

And that’s actually the biggest flaw in the show: the show is mainly story-driven and not character-driven, and for the sake of advancing plot, it sacrifices many things, including any consistency in Nina’s characterization.

I won’t be commenting much on the discomfort watching Chari & Nina playing with the demon kids bcs other ppl already covered that better than me.

But I’d like to point out the discomfort of watching Nina treating Charioce like some kind of fragile baby bird.

I’m just. WHUT.

In this ep, even tho he IS the king who enslaves and kills and destroys these demons, she’s more worried about HIS well-being than the demons who have no way of fighting back if he ever tries to attack them.

GURL PLS.

She worries about HIS clothes even though the demons kids’ clothes are far from being fit.

She screams when she sees the ball is a skull but shows no reaction at all to how HE naturally plays ball with said skull like nothing amiss, like he’s used to seeing skulls.

She trusts HIM instantly even though technically she is a fugitive and he’s the king who is hunting her and her escapee friends.

She worries more about HIM being in the slum than about the danger to HER FRIENDS by bringing their hunter to their own backyard.

All she thinks about is HER, HERself, HER feelings, HER thoughts, and HIM and I just.

GURL HOW SELF-CENTERED ARE YOU.

She really doesn’t think of things outside her immediate perspective or beyond herself. She does not even *try*.

She’s kind but she lacks empathy, which is why she needs direction and to be told to care before she could actually care.

I’ve said before how, bcs charioce never directly hurts her, she can’t think of him as a bad person.

And this scene:

I just.

the "an asshole to everybody else but a sweetheart to his girl" trope is such a popular trope in all kind of media that I'm surprised nina doesn't realize it's not weird or extraordinary at all.

ahem

I don’t understand why she can’t understand this: that both are part of him, both are *real*

On the other hand, she could accept and understand that Azazel’s kind to Mugaro but a jerkass to her. Both are facets of azazel, and she has no trouble parsing that.

But then when it comes to charioce, she suddenly loses all senses? Pfft.

Also, why does it matter which one is real? Chari still did both things; even if, say, the kind him is the real him, it doesn’t erase the fact he destroys Cocytus and enslaves demons and kills both demons and angels.

Like wtf gurl.

Also, the *wording* actually *matters*, and the way she says “making the demons and gods hate you” it’s like Chari is only pranking them or something harmless like that for the purpose of making them hate him, which is not true at all.

HE TORTURED AND MASS MURDERED THEM. WOMEN AND CHILDREN ALIKE.

No, Nina, it’s not hate what they feel for Chari; hate is too light a word to describe it. They try to murder him now bcs they’re trying to survive, since if he’s not dead he’s going to kill them all eventually.

Also, way to make this all about you, gurl.

Gods and demons being slaughtered left and right but all you care about is his attitude toward you, bcs it’s the only thing that matters to you the most apparently.

Bcs his countless victims, including Jeanne, mugaro, kaisar, azazel, the gods she called cute, totally do not matter at all to her.

Empathy what empathy.

Fuck.

I’ve written about it here, but her conversation with Jeanne in ep14 still gives me chills bcs wow, she perfectly knows chari is the one who hurts Jeanne and is the cause of Jeanne hurting her own child, yet she still dares, with no shred of guilt at all while claiming herself Jeanne’s friend, saying to Jeanne’s face that she *loves* charioce.

No consideration at all of how Jeanne’s actually one of Chari’s victims, no nothing.

The fact Nina doesn’t mention Charioce is the guy she likes is totally cheating and unfair to Jeanne, bcs now Jeanne has unknowingly approved of Charioce.

Cheating…or more like betrayal toward Jeanne, I think.

I wish Nina had done it purposefully tho, omitting Chari’s name in that scene I mean, bcs at least it means she’s aware jeanne’s chari’s victim and only trying to spare her feelings by not mentioning the name, while still keeping the conversation going.

But the fact she hadn’t is just. stupid and mostly empathy what empathy indeed.

Also this scene:

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA

WTF

…I feel so stupid for trying to analyze her transformation at all oh my god what a waste of time and energy

What about her mother’s words about how her transformation is realted to her father trauma and bahamut???? Where’s the follow up??? Where did that plotline go omg

I JUST.

REALLY, SHOW, REALLY?

That easy? So she’s basically, to quote someone, “just a dragon in heat.”

Wow.

Just… wow.

Also to anon from way back, I take back what I said about how nina’s ignorance is not meant as shallow; full offense, I really mean this: nina’s not only ignorant, but also shallow, only thinks of herself, and has no empathy whatsoever for others unless told to.

The fact Chari never hurts her is important, bcs to her, since she never experiences his cruelty herself, countless tales of his victims is just an unreal myth to her.

Meanwhile for Charioce himself, dude, how the fuck did you go from Charioce 13th to Charioce 17th so fast in less than 5 years, like did you kill 14th-16th or what?

They sure do love abandoning subplots left and right, don’t they haha

I thought he’s interesting at the beginning but he barely has any character development and frankly I’m bored and lost interest in him and his secretiveness just makes him irritating.

I’m not a patient person; sue me for losing interest.

Also, someone commented how Charinina’s lake scene makes them seem like Romeo and Juliet, like, if only they’re not who they are, then they must be able to be happy together.

WTF ROMEO JULIET WHERE

They both are humans, none’s stopping them from being together, he and his race are not at war with her or her race; he doesn’t even know dragonfolk exists.

Azazel thinks her a demon but then again he’s wrong about a lot of things, including mugaro’s origin.

No, dragons are not demons, and nina’s also half dragonfolk half human, so she’s mostly human.

The closest Romeo/Juliet relationship in the show is probably Chari/Mugaro or Chari/Azazel or even Mugaro/Azazel.

There’s no pre-existing condition between Nina/Chari, all the drama are recent and of their own making and not something that already exists as foundation of conflict.

4. TL;DR

I do think while Azazel deserves a lot of suffering, being comic relief and charinina’s fodder is not one of them.

Also Charioce still doesn’t have embarrassing pose and never experienced being the butt of a joke like the rest of the main casts wtf let the poor guy have his own embarrassing meme show

As protags, Nina and Charioce feel so flat to me. Nothing much happens to them personally, no mountain of problems to overcome, no nothing. Well nina has her transformation problem, but that seems so insignificant considering it only involves her and her alone.

Charioce doesn’t have problems to solve bcs he actually creates problems for other characters and somehow sit all the while being cool and charismatic doing nothing. Pfft.

I think, conflict and character development wise, Kaisar and Azazel deserve to be protags more. Kaisar has the Hero’s Righteousness ™ down to the smallest detail, while Azazel has the classic Hero Journey (starting from losing everything to trying to regain everything back).

Meanwhile, Charioce starts as a villain and continues on to be villain, while Nina just lets the waves take her.

Again, this is entirely my personal opinion.

[lemoncakepanda]

My top 25 NaLu moments! (Part 1)

Here I’m going to post my favorite 25 NaLu moments. Since they have a lot of moments, it was hard to pick just 25 (and keep in mind that this is manga only, no anime, meaning there’ll be no filler moments, nor movie moments). Since I don’t want this to get too long, I’m going to split it into 2 parts (25 through 16, 15 through 1). Also, this is MY OPINION only; my favorite moments. You don’t have to agree with me, or say ‘the other moment should be higher’ or ‘why didn’t you include that moment here’. I love all NaLu moments, but there are some that just make my heart go ‘whoooooa’ and those are the ones I’ll include here. It’s not spoiler-free, so if you’re not updated on the current arc, I suggest not to read it.

Part 2 can be found here.

25. “Someone give us courage” (ch. 247).

This moment here is just SO important to me, for two reasons; first, Lucy’s terrified, just like everyone else, and she holds onto Natsu so tightly, like her life depends on it. I also think in a way she’s trying to protect him there, even though she’s afraid. She’s both trying to get some comfort, as well as to protect the man in her arms. It’s just beautiful; second, the way he grips into her arm and finds the resolve to keep fighting. And he gives her the courage she’d been asking for. They really gave each other so much hope in this moment, and I swear to God, I wasn’t able to function for an hour after analyzing this.

24. “Let’s form a team!” (ch. 226)

Yes, another Tenrou Island moment. Let’s face it, the TI arc was just full of delicious beautiful NaLu moments. Anyways, I had to pick this one because, oh my God, look at the f*cking chemistry in these two panels. Look at these two being FLIRTY with each other, putting their “rivalry” aside to work together. I’m sorry, but I have yet to see them looking at someone else like this. I’m so thankful to Mashima for these two panels in special; I remember losing my faith in this pairing back then, for a while, but when I saw this chapter and this moment, I regained that hope pretty quickly. They really compliment each other, and they make a great team. They’re also totally giving each other bedroom eyes. Excuse me.

23. Natsu’s kept memories & “Lucy, come home already” (omake 212.5).

This whole omake (Natsu & Happy’s House) was just full of adorable moments. Even though Natsu and Lucy didn’t necessarily interact during this omake, these two moments I put in picture there were so special. First, Lucy’s face when she sees that Natsu has kept memories of their jobs, there’s so much love in her eyes; her face softens, and she just can’t help but smile at how sweet that is. Same goes for the next moment, when she arrives at home and she finds Natsu and Happy there, instead of being at their house as she’d wanted them to. I really think this omake was a huge factor that changed the way Lucy viewed her two special boys (which I’ll get to in another moment a big higher in the list); they started to think of her house as their home, even though they already had a house. That’s just so sweet, I have no words, I could gush about the “come home already” all day.

22. Watch Out for the Guy You Like! (omake 71.5).

Yes, another Omake. And yes, I’m aware many people refer to this omake as an anti-NaLu one, but in my opinion, it really wasn’t. Like Mashima himself said recently (I think it was recently), even though Natsu didn’t confess his love like Lucy thought he would, it was super sweet to see Lucy’s cute delusions of Natsu; she actually considered being in a relationship with him for a while. Even though she was denying it so badly, she actually had moments when she’d think like “that actually wouldn’t be so ba... oh noooo!”. And that was enough of a NaLu moment for me. I knew Natsu wasn’t in love with her then, just like Lucy didn’t have those feelings for him yet, but she considered it. It was REALLY cute, and I actually love this Omake; also Natsu in that shoujo panel is just too much for my soul thank you so much for this Mashima.

21. “Do that thing where you purr like a cat” (omake 462.5).

As we saw in OVA 4, Lucy was an affectionate drunk. Especially with Natsu, which gave us amazing NaLu moments with Lucy all over Natsu. Since that happened in a OVA, I never thought we’d get a mention of it again, so I didn’t consider it canon. But when this special Christmas chapter came out, imagine my surprise and happiness when I saw this ^. Like, that’s such a slap in the face to anyone who says those two are just friends and don’t see each other in a romantic/sexual light. Drunk Lucy just looooves some Natsu time, and always finds an excuse to be with him, either in his arms or on top of him. This panel I chose is so cute, with her jumping onto him, tackling him into the ground and stroking his chin with hearts over her head and a romantic look in her eyes. Meanwhile, Natsu’s kind of dying there, lmao what’s his deal by the way, look at his toes it’s like he’s trying really hard to fight something *wink wink*. The big NaLu moments are great, but there are little moments, like this one, that I just live for. It’s a little moment, yet it means a lot.

20. Reaching out for each other’s hands (ch. 382).

Speaking of little moments, this one in particular during the Tartaros arc was one of my favorites. I’m a sucker for the ‘trying to reach out to someone’s hand, being so close, and failing’ trope. I always wanted NaLu to have a moment like this, and I was so happy when I got it. And what can I say about the scene in itself, I mean, Natsu and Lucy constantly get separated during arcs, only to find their way back to each other; even so, it was kind of heartbreaking to see them being separated this time. They didn’t know what was going to happen to them at the moment, yet they still tried to reach for each other, to make sure each other was safe. To make sure that whatever happened, they’d be together. And it broke my heart when they couldn’t do it, and both got blasted away. Tartaros was just A-MA-ZING with the feels, but that’s for another post.

19. “I’ll be lonely” (ch. 416).

A.k.a. Natsu leaves for an entire year without Lucy, and I become a crying mess just like she did. I mean, I’m not juding Natsu’s decision to leave; in fact, I think that’s something he needed to do, especially after everything that happened (and the people he lost, Igneel, Future Lucy). Do I think he could’ve taken Lucy with him, yes. But would that emotionally impact the story as much as Mashima intended to, no. I also think this separation was something necessary for Lucy as well, and I say this as a huge Lucy fan; I really think this year away from Natsu and everyone else helped Lucy grow up emotionally, as a person, even more so than before. I can’t say for sure that these two are in love (Mashima has yet to confirm it), but I can say that Lucy relied on Natsu’s presence a LOT; and I don’t mean strength wise as in to protect her, I mean emotionally wise. He and Happy had always been with her, through thick and thin, no matter what. He became her person, her comfort; she’d always complain on how these two would break into her house, yet she found a comfort in it. She wouldn’t be alone as long as they were with her. And just like that, that inssurance was taken away from her, and there was nothing she could do about it. For an entire year (who knows, maybe she thought they wouldn’t come back at all), there’d be no more breaking in, no more “unwanted” presence in her house, no more coming home to someone, no more comfort at nights, no more reassuring smiles that she grew to love. I think Lucy realized that, and I’m pretty sure at that moment her heart broke.

18. “Let’s save the tears for when we win” (ch. 272).

There’s been like 100 analysis of this scene, so I’m not going to make another. I’m just gonna say why I love this moment so much: after losing unfairly, because Lucy knew she should’ve won, we see her crying on the floor, because she wanted to bring pride to her guild, and she couldn’t. Anyone of the guild could’ve gone there to comfort her; just like anyone could’ve just let her get up and walk away by herself. Instead, Natsu, the person who’s been by her side through pretty much everything ‘till then, goes there to pick her up and give her comfort again. He smiles at her, tells her she was amazing, lets her know how proud he’s of her even though she lost. That in itself is beautiful, because like I pointed out, he didn’t have to do that for her, he could’ve asked someone else to pick her up. Yet he went there, and reassured her that it wasn’t the end no pun intended. And when she says “I’m all fired up”, it’s just so gorgeous, she’s crying, she’s sad and she’s shaking, but she believes Natsu SO much, that he gives her the strength to lift her head up and go on. Honestly, the thing this ship does to me...

17. “You’re Lucy from Fairy Tail” (ch. 51).

can u already by now that i’m a sucker for the NaLu moments where Natsu comforts Lucy. This is a moment from earlier on in the series, where Natsu and Lucy were already a team, but they were still getting used to each other. They weren’t each other’s most precious people (along with Happy) back then, but they were slowly getting closer. The Phantom Lord arc, which is an arc with heavy focus on Lucy, was one of the best arcs ever, and it also sends a nice message about finding your own self, your real identity. Lucy was having a moment where she wanted to stay with her guild, she wanted to stay with the people who gave her a home and a family; something her father was trying to take away from her, by hurting the people she loved, and that wasn’t something she wanted. So Lucy considers coming back to her house. Everybody else is like “don’t say that”, but Natsu, instead of doing the same, reminds her that she’s not Lucky Lucy Heartfilia anymore. He reminds her that she already has a home, and that’s where she needs to stay, instead of going back to a place she doesn’t belong to. I love this moment a lot, because it really helped to shape Lucy into the person she is today. It made her realize that she deserved better, she deserved to be somewhere people loved her and accepted her. It was also great for developing the NaLu friendship/relationship, which, like I said, was rocky at first, but it’s moments like these that helped turn them into the ship we love so much today.

16. “Lucy!” (ch. 489).

It’s just a little moment, it’s just a panel; yet, it brought so much joy and fangirling to me. Natsu didn’t even hesitate; he knew something bad was going to happen, so he jumped at Lucy and grabbed her, to protect her. Mest was there (heck, even Happy was there), and she’s the only one he holds onto, ready to protect with his body if necessary. To me that’s a really meaningful moment, because Natsu’s already lost so many special people (Igneel, Future Lucy, Lisanna too, even though she came back), and through this entire time, he’s become so attached to Lucy, that he’s terrified of losing her. Just the bare thought of it is enough to trigger him, as we saw in this panel. Especially after Future Lucy’s death, I believe Natsu’s become 100 times more protective of Lucy, and that’s really cute and so important.