#i haven't reread it in like 2 years

[super-who-locked-me-in-here]

I was unfortunately made aware today that a large part of my ability to recreate Hannibal Lecter's vaguely flirty, entirely serious, absolutely pretentious and philosophical manner of speaking in my writing now in my 20s is due in large part to a 44k Ouran High School Host Club fanfic I wrote in my teens where Benio Amakusa was a recurring character with a lot of dialogue

[whatudottu]

Hello Ben 10 fans, it's been a hot second hasn't it, it's time for another round of Whatudottu Rambles and it's been a long time coming! Not just because of the gaps between posts but because this original idea comes straight from 2023 notes yay!

Today, we'll be talking about vulpimancers, but specifically their history and the politics of Vulpin! Because! For some reason! Whenever I think about vulpimancers, Vulpin, and vulpinic tortugans I think about their relation to the rest of the universe at large and frankly I want to elaborate what has been years of note taking!

God it's gonna be LONG!

So! One of the caveats when dealing with societal structure and the politics therein with significantly more animalistic appearing species, especially vulpimancers who do not have the actual physical structure to speak Earth languages, is that trying to base them off of a real human culture is a SIGNIFICANT FAUX PAS let alone taking inspiration from more traditional and indigenous cultures from around the world. It's part of the reason my obviously-armadillo ant bio talpaedans have their cultural influence taken from historial Europe more specifically during the time of their royal blood swapping since that's the basis of the tradie marriages.

What this means for vulpimancers is that I won't be taking from any modern world culture and hopefully harkening their lives and otherwise timeline to be kind of the present day equivalent of early human communities. Vulpimancers don't exactly have hard borders on territory beyond their stable hunting grounds and are nomadic, sticking together in communities, working within packs, then bundling for rest with families. This will persist until the 'modern era' which consists of a lot more than just the last 25 so years 'today' means, and that territory ends up becoming a whole country, a few communities per country with their relevant amount of working packs and individual families within.

Communities are 'run' by family elders and pack leaders, being a combination of 'the eldest takes care of the youth' parent style but also of those in charge of resource gathering being the... I suppose statistical analysts of the community who take stock of the resources they have, the mouths they need to feed, the seasons of their country, and how well one resource is actually growing (in the case of plants) or breeding (in the case of animals). It's not completely flawless sure, but it's certainly a system that works in a deadly pitch black environment filled with predators galore. Each country has a basic sense of politics even without a so called 'government head' or unified governing body, and historically their international politics extend to the access foreign vulpimancers have to the lands and resources of their country. Often smelling like a region none of the communities have traveled through (and countrymancers would have had interactions with the other communities and familiarised themselves with their scents), the allowance of foreign travel are limited in small numbers to only a few members of a family and only one or two members of a worker pack just outside (never within) the border; a whole community is expected to remain well away from the border unless the border happens to be at the centre of a river or by a dense cave system.

This system would have gone uninterrupted were it not for the fact that early tortugan settlers, an old species already at space fairing technology well beyond many of the civilisations we know were what they are today, landed on Vulpin during their mission to colonise their star system. One argues that the tortugan got to their level of technology from having a lack of predators and thus more proposed 'free time' to dedicate to advanced sciences, another says that they were simply haughty and underprepared for an environment that they had no ability to even understand beyond the atmosphere let alone the conditions on the ground. What inarguably happened though was in some way the settlers were stranded, their ships corroding and decaying from the harsh chemicals of the air, fighting for their damn lives in the pitch black of Vulpin. Forced to adapt or die, the settlers faced the wild threats of Vulpin fighting tooth and nail to live, running into what would and will continue to be the apex predator vulpimancers reacting in fear to their initial 'foreigners in our territory' related hostilities. It was a reluctant few vulpimancers who saw the fear of the settlers and tried to, realising they both shared the same sapience (or at least an intelligence that was not well adapted to the daily stress of Vulpin), allowing their kindness to inform the tortugans of their own intelligence in turn.

However over time, evolving not only themselves but the environment around them in small yet incredibly noticeable ways, the nations of vulpimancers (particularly near the original region/s of the settler landing zones) were quick to notice and many quick to anger in reaction to the distortion of THEIR land - their COUNTRY - some even quick to forgo what kindness they had extended to the quivering death fodder. Hodgepodging together shelter from their ship scraps, warped metal and corroded rust making for an ironic newly created collection of beaten up shanty towns, the torugans (on their way to becoming the vulpinic tortugans of the modern era) were either left to fend for themselves as communities of vulpimancers dropped their support or had to rebuild again and again as some ran them out, furious at the junk obstructing their riverways, digging up their plants, and diverting the natural and long studied hunting grounds of their prey. The very rare few communities - or rather, specific individuals - leave the attempts at expansion to run it's course and to meet it's maker at the hands of the weather and wilds seeking to erase the settlers' old technology, truly predating on anything the tortugans have build up whether it be the walls of their home or the flesh beneath their skin.

Unlike the nomadic vulpimancers, the tortugans are sedentary in their housing and are densely packed into small Minitowns so to say, their population never particularly comparable to the large number of vulpimancers. Minitowns are only ever really found in countries that have notable 'places of evil' that the communities of the region avoid like the literal plague, especially areas that not a lot of wildlife disturb, which technically makes for shit city planning since it means prey species and plants aren't nearby in the area, but the tortugans would take anything to get predators off their backs even if it means they need to have their own versions of worker packs. Some Minitowns have actually consulted with a few communities about where best to place a sedentary 'camp' so to speak, which varies given the relationship a specific group or nation of vulpimancers have towards the settlers whether they'd rather hide them away near a cave system that could provide good shelter and cave-dwelling prey, or in specific colder locations where the tortugan-vulpimancer relationship is actually neutral to positive, they might suggest a Minitown to be built adjacent to a winter site to help during what might usually be a deadly chill.

Tortugans however can still be 'on the run' however if they've wondered into regions where vulpimancers hate them, but unfortunately the early settlers who have not yet adapted to the conditions of the planet are run off to die instead. This and the former paragraph would be referred to in modern times as the New Settler policy, more of a general reaction the general vulpimancer had to the tortugans rather than an official decree, but a generalised trend that can all be connected under a retroactive title.

With a somewhat stable environment, the remaining survivors and the descendants of the settlers would have adapted and become the vulpinic tortugans, now able to sustain themselves and not be as entirely reliant on their historical Minitowns; they still aren't an apex predator by any means, nor too far removed from being a prey species, but their poison spines and defense curl allows them not to be completely food. Due to the inherent limitations of even the recommended locations of Minitowns, a fair many tortugans become nomadic out of necessity, the growing number of mouth unable to be filled with the lack of resources. Tortugan and vulpimancer relations are still heavily varied between regions, but with the new nomadic tortugan groups - tending towards groups of friends or small families - there may yet be more opportunity for the two species to bond in the best case scenario. In a neutral but positive case, some countries that had been very hostile to the tortugans may view the up-and-coming nomads to not be as much of a threat to their land and allow them transit, though nothing more and in the most untrusting of cases they'll be escorted to the next border with haste or even only allowing passage if the path to an adjacent nation is otherwise hard to cross over.

Throughout their entire time trying to survive Vulpin, the tortugans previously didn't have enough time to consider anything as formal as politics. With their physical adaptations, now they can enter the world of more unspoken politics that the vulpimancers were already scent deep into, splitting into the primary two demographics of settler and nomad tortugans. Settler tortugans typically stay within the country, even if some may have nomadic tendencies to travel between known Minitowns of the region, often having a specialised class of the worker pack to rely on food and materials; they still cling onto every scrap that their ancestor came with, though they have long forgotten a lot of what they specifically meant to them. Nomadic tortugans can but often don't travel exclusively within their country - a contrast to their neighbouring communities - needing to avoid countries that actively hate them and only occasionally daring to step within countries that tolerate them at BEST but would rather not have to interact with them; they often sympathise with the original vulpimancer communities affected by their coloniser ancestors, those who ultimately failed in their goal regardless, travelling around the world that they know would have had attempts made to terraform it into something unrecognisable should the colonists have had 'better' circumstances to do so.

It was sometime in the modern era that Vulpin began to become an intergalactic dumping ground fueled by the tortugan colonies, or rather the United Tortugan Market - a trade colony built up of several planets within the same system, except for Vulpin - who are filling up with excess waste, recalled that one of their ancestral colony ships failed to produce any results on Vuplin and thus considered it the trash they they dumped onto it. Ignorant not only because the settlers failed to report back about a sapient species, they also wholeheartedly believe that the passengers sent to the planet on that initial voyage died before they could populate, they emptied out their waste bins and tossed them down onto the planet at ranges that would not allow corrosion to interfere with their ships flight. And now, where both the vulpimancer communities - disgruntled about repeated history - and the newly adapted vulpinic tortugans - newly afraid to taste their own ancestors' medicine - have to deal with their lands and homes being ruined and overrun by scraps and busted machines, the UTM begins selling a service to local customers for their new planet sized dump, dubbing it Vulpin: the Market Junkyard.

With the intergalactic trash piling up, destroying the ecosystem, damaging ancient lands and displacing many communities and even whole fucking countries of vulpimancers, new political ideologies start to form. There are the 'fuck aliens' crowds who - despite reluctance - allow for vulpimancer refugees of neighbouring countries, beginning to revert to (or worsing their already bad relationship to the tortugans) xenophobia towards both settler tortugans and nomadic tortugans, some countries turning to the ones cohabiting with them to 'go back to where [they] came from' and leave their planet alone. Others have put their foot down and - essentially - form the political ideology of 'learn to fucking cope' where communities specifically refuse to share their unmarred land to even their fellow countrymancers, splitting off into the 'okay LET'S fucking cope' ideology where the otherwise displaced community in reaction would essentially sever that community's nomadic path from the rest of the country by actively posturing against any movement into what is now deemed their own new country.

The last two ideologies, loosely titled 'maybe we need help' and 'there's too much shit to ignore', mirror the initial settler/nomad tortugan political split that spawned initially from vulpimancer influence. The first ideology works in stark contrast to the 'fuck aliens' ideology where displaced communities find refugee within tortugan settlements, between small families making homes in Minitowns or whole communities and even countries depending helping tortugans with Junkyard Cities - cities that are still only technically about the equivalent for maybe suburbs at most, Vulpin countries aren't particularly large but they are numerous - making use of the intergalactic trash to build homes and (unfortunately) having a steady supply able to repair and maintain them; it is however more common to have Minitowns with a partial nomadic life, even if it's only for the purpose of resources which still stem from their initial hurdles in town construction. The 'too much shit to ignore' ideology mirrors the international tortugan nomads where an entire country's worth of land is filled with rubbish that not even the native wildlife can make use of it's resources buried beneath the scrap, making the region an undeniable dead zone that may bring many species into extinction, if not simply endanger them; international travel would probably only be for family sized groups, probably only families given that, and only if they have experienced enough worker pack members.

Vulpinic tortugans, in contrast to the disgusted and resentful opinions that the vulpimancers hold for the trash piles, generally speaking simultaneously view the growing junkyards as horrendous yet rife with opportunity as the lands they were forced to call home fill with materials they can use to build their homes and potentially enter the stars their ancestors had dreams of one day returning to. Nomadic tortugans are revolted as though this may not have been the terraforming they feared their ancestors could have fallen into doing, they are still affecting the planet as if they were dominating the land with technology and greed, and settler tortugans specifically in areas not yet prone to junkfall do not much benefit from the opportunity they'd provide in order for their opinion to differ from the nomads, unless their worker packs reach further into the the junkyards for 'treasures'. As mentioned in the afforementioned 'we need help' vulpimancer ideology, settler tortugans in junkfall regions would gather around junkyards and build cities from the scraps, using the fact that the wildlife would steer clear of the cluttered regions as a deterrent to the risks of expansion to make larger settlements than they could have otherwise on an untainted Vulpin, especially with the wealth of materials able to maintain the structures of the city. But even the Junkyard Cities require an ample source of food and other resources not found in the trash, so overrun countries and the deep centre of the junkyards forming around the planet cannot support a city of needy people, displaced or otherwise, and thus even the settler tortugans of Junkyard Nations must leave to find greener-but-not-literally pastures; depending on the population of the displaced settler town, they may resettle at the edge of the junkyard to create a city, move even further away to recreate a Minitown just for them, or even become nomads and set a course away from their ruined homes.

With all these broadstroke political ideologies, there is the fundamental truth that within these junkyards houses 'useless garbage' from societies with much higher tech levels sitting in scraps of themselves, the levels ranging from interplanetary to even intergalactic levels of technology that may be broken to the point of being garbage, but their structure still exists and the stray opportunist to take the time to reverse engineer the scraps can do so with lots of trial and error. The tortugans have to learn by this exact trial and error having long forgotten the sciences their ancestors used to strand themselves on Vulpin, and ever watchful the vulpimancers (especially those displaced, especially those cohabiting with the tortugans) keep an open ear (gill?) to the goings on in the junkyards, enough so that a handful of individuals take the same route as their junkyard neighbours to trial and error their own tech.

Leaving a planet and it's inhabitants to rot under the piles of trash and metal you litter it with leaves for bitter peoples who scrap themselves their own frankensteinian machines of your and all your customers' technologies, influencing a rising tide of Vulpin spacefarers that offer no fealty or kindness to the United Tortugan Market your own peoples find respect in. Junker Pirates, you call them, rising from the pitch black of the corrosive atmosphere you first lost a colony fleet to, and how interesting. The settlers DID survive. And they've made pets- or so the tortugans and the rest of the intergalactic community believe.

Pirates are treated like pirates, of course; arrested like the criminals they are. Unfortunately this is one of the first instances of not recognising vulpimancers for the sapient beings that they are, where the vulpinic tortugans - revealed to be the closest cousin species hereditarily to the arburian pelarota, and thus obviously capable of sapience even if 'more feral' 'more savage' 'more undeveloped' - are sentenced to whatever punishment suits the declaration that they are indeed guilty of piracy, the vulpimancer crew on the other hand are treated like trained dogs and sent into the null void where a large population begins to form and a new brand of hostility begins to brew. Given that the vulpimancers with tortugan crew have to actually tolerate the tortugan enough to be isolated on a ship with them, the null void pirates do not generally resent the vulpinic tortugans of the crew, rather they may despise specifically the tortugan cousins or even the UTM, if they do not generalise and grow to hate everyone not from Vulpin. If the tortugan pirate are sent back to their planet - deported so to speak to Vulpin - and carry back the news that the vulpimancer members of their crew were sent to the null void without due processing, new hostilities spark on homeground. Communities that grow to despise the pirates for giving Vulpin and it's newly discovered people an even worse reputation that it already has, those that once again circle back into hating the tortugans - now their reasoning being that they 'keep getting away' from karma and still hurting their vulpimancer kin - and then there are those that grow to hate the intergalactive governments for stealing their family away and locking them between the folds of the dimensions. The pirates are still going to pirate, regardless of if they are breaking their terms by leaving the planet again, and those who have lost crew to the null void seek to find (and steal if necessary) null void technology and in a worst-case scenario memorise the construction of the projectors so they may smuggle back those illegitimately 'processed' back on Vulpin.

Other pirates that are either set free or are bound to fulfill the conditions of community service (which if word ever got back to Vulpin, the returning pirates being the key here, those that resent the intergalactic governments would resent the community service in turn) more often than not find themselves in the long term not returning to Vulpin. The pirate whom were set free may return full force into piracy once again, though this time without their vulpimancer crew - at least those that do not follow through with finding null void tech - and may begin to accrue members of other species into their Junker Ship, if they were open to such ideas. Those that were given community service may learn more about the intergalactic governments and try to find a way to fix their perceptions of vulpinic tortugans, vulpimancers, and Vulpin in it's entirety by eventually settling somewhere where they can begin getting into the far more structured and far more... loophole ridden poiltics of written law and relations. Those in the political field will begin to realise that Vulpin is legally speaking a part of the United Tortugan Market, that it's official name in the colony is Vulpin: the Market Junkyard, and that very distinctly is NOT UNDER THE 'OWNERSHIP' VULPIN'S OWN PEOPLES. The ex-pirates that happen to return home, learning a little of the politics if they are not politicians themselves, spread the news back home inciting others (including the very fucking understandably furious vulpimancers) to potentially engage in interplanetary and intergalactic politics of their own, especially vulpimancers who are tired of others - which includes the vulpinic tortugans who have been the most vocal not necessarily by choice, mind - speaking over them.

The introduction of interplanetary and intergalactic communications, even if it is limited to visitations as the environment in Vulpin (especially with Junkfalls now present as an element worry about) makes setting up a communications array for the height required to transmit and receive signals rather difficult on a good day, let alone a day shared with very... opinionated communities, has allowed for the ability to access foreign language and common symbols that can help with interspecies relations. Or hinder them, if you teach a very well used universal 'fuck you' sign to a very understandably pissed vulpimancer forced to be treated like an animal deaf to all the words being spoken around them. The access to language also helps form the first technologies allowing for Vulpin languages to be added to translators. However, with a lot of the languages in the intergalactic community having their own writing system (with Vulpin languages not needing a writing system for the longest time), the previously unwritten Vulpin languages are given one by the vulpinic tortugans who use a carved variety of and Old Tortugan writing system and transliterate many of the sounds, especially vulpimancer languages as unlike Vulpin tortugan languages, the sounds did not already have close equivalents. Writing it planetside is often done with sheets of metal rather than wasting plant material, but intergalactically with sighted individuals it is written on the average data screen.

With it's basis in Old Tortugan, modern tortugan languages with the same root language such as Arburian languages, not only can tortugans begin to read Vulpin languages, but anyone who has knowledge on tortugan languages can engage with Vulpin languages more thoroughly than they were able to previously. Which considering they considered the vulpinic tortugans as the 'most' sapient of the Vulpin species despite them both speaking in what essentially amounts to growls and yamper, is quite significant of a development, even as it is functionally once again removing the voice of vulpimancers in favour of the tortugan voice. Sometimes vulpimancer politicians are willing to let that slide in favour of being understood, walking around with tortugan liasons who have the mouth structure in other to reciprocate more common intergalactic languages. Other vulpimancer politicians refuse to rely on their fellow Vulpin national to speak for them and instead insist on using some newly created translators fitted with their relevant Vulpinic language pack, speaking for themselves with a voice technically not theirs but one that they can assuredly say voices their own personal experiences.

On Vulpin, there is a growing community of junkers, a variety of members not exactly connected like the communities of vulpimancers and their own ideologies made up of tortugans and vulpimancers (often called weirdos mostly because of their more nontraditional tortugan-like behaviour and interests), who spend most of their time in the junkyards scrapping together all the tech tossed homeward bound into their lands to develop distinctly Vulpinic technology. Unlike the pirates - which if questioned, they'll say they 'heeded the warnings' from the pirates and elect not to fall into the same trap - Junkers often remain on ground zero and don't actively seek out revenge, not like they are suddenly so much kinder than the Junker Pirates, but rather they use their pretty fucking justified anger to fuel their projects and scavenger hunts; it's also not like they're push overs with hearts of gold either, especially since some a working on building pretty powerful machines that could be considered weapons, they WILL defend themselves and they have quite a bit of faith in their abilities. And remaining on the planet is quite the majority of the vulpimancer communities, and not just the xenophobic ones, as they have unlike the politically motivated interplanetary travelers they choose to remain in their home territories (or as close as they can if they are one of the displaced communities). They are the communities and countries that try to maintain the general political interactions between each other that had been present for a long time within their evolutionary history, which does mean they do not explicitly care about the interplanetary affairs beyond hoping that the Vulpin politicians can get them to stop using the planet as a dumping ground. They - unless otherwise stated in their individual political ideologies - do not care to pay much attention to the weirdo vulpimancers and the alien tortugan who are a very clear example of how no other alien is likely to decide to live on Vulpin willingly ever.

One of the first interplanetary organisations that Vulpin and it's peoples were introduced to were the Plumbers, and given that their first interaction was with the Junker Pirates and their very severe sentences, Vulpin and Vulpin officials stationed even in government bodies are rather typically ACAB (or I suppose APAB, All Plumbers are Bastards), and many of the politicians are moving to get legally defined rights not just for the recently reintroduced vulpinic tortugans but also the very hard to fight for, very tooth and nail political clambering, establishment of rights for vulpimancers as well. Regardless of how well the pirates are breaking out the members of their crew from the null void, getting the official rights to trial and thus the ability to call the illegitimate processing of vulpimancer pirates as a violation of a vulpimancer's sapient rights and thus hopeful (doubtfully) garner some consequences for the hasty arrest of the early pirates. Politicians were also attempting to get the rights for Vulpin into the legal 'ownership' of the people of Vulpin, specifically recognising the vulpimancers as the original custodians of the land and respecting the national land of the vulpinic totugans that have evolved to live on Vulpin, but in order to do so they would need to actively find the current root owner of Vulpin within the United Tortugan Market. As much as the pirates and all those resentful of the intergalactic governments and the UTM would have liked to tear at the throats of the trade colony, the Vulpin representatives are in a tentative situation trying to prove not only the species' sapience, securing the rights in which that is allotted with, but also that the peoples are of... sound sociability in order to gain any semblance of recognition of being even a national people.

It is with the arrival of the tick on Arburia that presented an... ample opportunity to try and... convince the United Tortugan Market of that 'sound sociability' and potentially... a bargaining chip to their own planet's ownership. As much as the potential of damning an entire planet to suffer in ways similar to how they have suffered was very appealing, it would have been significantly detrimental to the work the politicians and the future of Vulpin against the tide of Junkfalls if they left the innocents of Arburia to die or to in fact use them as hostages to outweigh the biases to give them their legal ownership. Instead, at the begging of Vulpin representatives - with the help of the onboard communications of Junker Ships and the pirates that drove them - the members and species of Vulpin gambled on kindness and sought to rescue and save the arburian pelarota and their families like the early vulpimancers once did with the early tortugan settlers, ships lined full of fleeing families even as the government heads of the UTM began to panic upon seeing the pirate ships, especially when infamous crews and ships began to be sighted. Arburian pelarota's, being exposed in their time of need to the act of kindness from both vulpinic tortugans (which they believed to be more violent cousins) AND vulpimancers (where they had been wrongly informed where simple trained animals) had allowed them to understand their mutual sapience, regardless of the roughened and angry exterior of the peoples of Vulpin in addition to their nature as pirates. Fully willing to deliver the inhabitants of Arburia (which, they were not the only ship fleet, but they were the ones willing to keep searching even as the planet was in it's death marches) onto solid ground within the UTM colonies, they seek to enter the atmosphere of any of the requested planets. Hesitantly, not willing to let pirates into their planets, it was at the behest of their Aburian inhabitants that they allow the Junker Ships entry. It is with the evacuation of Arburia that Vulpin gained it's first ally.

It does not mean they suddenly have all the goals they have set out to do, but it means there is someone who is not themselves who have a ball in their court.

[zoebelladona]

gonna be rewatching bbc hdm to remind myself what a good tv book adaptation looks like

[prosebushpatch]

Love the feeling of going back to a draft after a legit year and laughing out loud at shenanigans you forgot writing.

[humanmorph]

hey are you okay? you posted 'life is just too long...' eunyung again : (

[hellsbellssinclub]

I am tossing up if I write out this new AU in full and then post it or if I post chapter by chapter.

Pros to writing out in full:

Regular chapter updating once finished

Not worrying or guilt feeling that I have not updated story

No forgetting plot and not knowing how to write the rest of the story

(a problem i have with some of my older fics D:)

Dedicating time to one story without getting upset that this chapter or that chapter didnt get enough precieved attention

A finished story! one to share with everyone in full!

Pros to posting chapter by chapter:

Getting to share the story with others as I write

feedback from comments

I am an attention whore and like to see kudos and comments as I work

I might loose interest writing out the story long

-

Either way, I am 2k into a new AU that I know I have a start middle and end for, even without proper plan. (there is plan for this story but it mostly comes in vibes and spotify playlists and day dreams but it is there!)

I am going to write out a couple of chapters and see how I go I think for now.

(if you wanna hear about the AU please come and shout at me in my ask box I like to scream)

[silvernatural26]

I FINALLY WATCHED MP100 SEASON 3

[thesvnandthemooon]

𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞

a/n: reread this and realized how much i missed these two </3

summary: natasha romanoff x married!reader; nat and you used to be in love. now, years later, you're married to a wealthy man and have a daughter with him. will running into natasha change everything?

warnings: cheating, mentions of alcohol

word count: 7.9k

…part 2, part 3, part 4…

✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷

— A FAMILY DIVIDE —

It's no secret that your in-laws don't like you.

You're not entirely sure why — you've never done anything to sour their opinion of you. You've always stayed respectful, friendly, always did your best to fit right into this social circle of privilege and wealth they've created. You're supportive of Ethan, but not in a way that makes them think you're hogging him for yourself. You're a good, hands-on mother to Nina, you regularly send them pictures of her, you visit at least every few months.

Still, they can't seem to get over the fact that you're apparently undeserving of Ethan. You suspect that it's because of your background, which is rather modest compared to theirs. Nurses instead of surgeons, cashiers instead of insurance agents, librarians instead of lawyers.

They don't know the struggle of sitting in front of a pile of bills, scattered across the dining table, your father's head in his hands as he stares down at them. They can't imagine wearing the same outfit twice in the same week, let alone two days in a row. They think that anyone can be rich like them — as long as they're willing to put the work into it.

You can't deny that your upbringing, so different from Ethan's, sets you apart a little. It's only natural, since you're not used to the kind of life they lead. Even now, over five years after getting married to him, you still don't know how to act sometimes.

How do you host a dinner party? How do you decide what art to hang in your home? How many seasonal homes does one family actually need?

They're questions you don't dare ask. They swim around in your head whenever you spend time with the Baileys, making you feel increasingly uncomfortable and outcast. Even if it's something as simple as brunch together, they'll manage to make a bunch of question marks appear in your head.

But despite it all, they're still Ethan's family, which technically makes them your family, too. They're Nina's grandparents, her aunts and uncles and cousins, and you can't imagine keeping her away from them just because you struggle to feel at home with them.

As every year, her great grandmother's birthday is the reason the entire family (including you, of course) gathers in their antebellum-style home in South Carolina.

Manicured gardens, featuring rose bushes, hedges and a large koi pond. A grand fountain, with a marble statue of a woman pouring water out of an urn, right next to the driveway. You keep Nina cradled in your arms as you take it all in, feeling the cold feeling of dread wash over you.

Ethan shuts the door of the car before walking up to you. He puts his hands in the pockets of his slacks as he gazes up at the house appreciatively.

"I missed this place", he says. "So much nicer than New York."

"It is beautiful", you agree, not able to resist the charm of the estate. It's ridiculously huge and almost too perfect, with its towering columns and black iron gate. Even though it's gorgeous, it's short of a certain sense of warmth and individuality. Not a home, just a house.

"Granny Bee!", Nina squeals, squirming. You put her down on the floor as Ethan's mother approaches, her lips curling into a small smile. She gives Nina a hug, her manicured fingers swiftly adjusting the little girl's jacket.

"My, my, did you grow!" Beatrice cups Nina's face before looking at you, her smile turning just a tad less warm. Not unfriendly, but lacking familiarity. "Y/N, hello. Ethan, my dear, I haven't seen you in so long. Let me see you! Oh, handsome as always."

"Hey, mom", he says, placing his hands on her shoulders. "Where's dad? Inside?"

"You know how he is. The cold weather makes him grumpy. He misses golf", she says, her voice turning a bit quieter as she tells him that. "With the knee injury..."

Nina pads back to your side, her hand swiftly grabbing yours. You exchange a smile with your daughter, not noticing that Beatrice has shifted her attention back to you. Her eyes scrutinize your outfit — simple jeans and a sweater, elegant but not as polished as the rest of the family, apparently.

"You look lovely, Y/N. Still keeping things simple, I see", she says and you look up. "It's refreshing, really — many of us overdo it, don't we?"

"I wouldn't know about that", you say politely, plastering on a smile. A kiss on each cheek, her hands briefly squeezing your free one. "We aren't late, are we?"

"No, right on time. Come on, everyone else wants to see the child", she urges you, starting to lead you into the house.

You step onto the marble floor of the grand entrance, still holding your daughter's hand. You circle the double staircase and make your way to the hallway that leads to the living area. Inside, you're welcomed by about a handful of people — seems like most of the guests won't arrive until tomorrow.

You shake hands with Dean, Ethan's brother, hug his wife, say hi to all the kids that are present. Then you look at Margaret, the matriarch of the family — 90 years old, but still as elegant and witty as ever. She's the only one in this family you truly like, even if her sense of tradition and proprietary is as strong as everyone else's.

"Say hi to Grandma Maggie", you tell Nina. She nods, making a beeline for the oldest family member. Margaret welcomes her with open arms, her face softening with genuine affection as the girl clambers onto her lap.

"There you are! Aren't you adorable. Did you draw anything for me?"

Nina smiles and starts chattering, her hands clumsily brushing strands of hair away from her face as she does so. Having ensured that your daughter is comfortable, you finally allow yourself to relax a little.

You mostly sit quietly and observe as the conversations start to flow. Ethan blends in seamlessly, of course, laughing at something his father said or cracking jokes with his brother. His parents are constantly fussing over the children of the family — seven of them in total, which makes it all the more odd that the atmosphere is still somewhat quiet and collected. Seems like the Baileys have everything under control.

. . .

One of Ethan's hands is on your lower back, the other is holding Nina's.

The birthday party is in full swing. Guests are roaming the parlor, chatting amongst each other and sipping ridiculously expensive champagne from just as ridiculously expensive flutes. Waitstaff weave through the room with silver trays of hors d'oeuvres. Elaborate arrangements of ivory roses, china patterned with intricate floral designs, the white centerpiece cake multi-tiered with gold accents.

A gleaming backdrop, one that makes you feel like you're sticking out like a sore thumb. You shift in place, smiling politely as some of his relatives approach you.

"Aunt Vivian", Ethan says, not being too delighted but hiding it well. "What a beautiful dress. Where's uncle Andrew?"

"He's over there, talking to your mother." Her gaze trails from Ethan to you and then to your daughter. "You have a lovely family. Such a cute thing, a Bailey through and through — and you're Y/N, right?"

Of course, you think, forcing a smile and shaking her hand. It's not like you've met me about a dozen times before, you old shrew.

"Yes, that's me. Nice to see you again, Vivian."

"Still a little housewife?", she asks, her smile saccharine. The words land like darts, making your grip on Nina's hand tighten. "Must be such a blessing, having all that free time. How do you keep yourself busy? I mean, I would just lose my mind. I get bored so easily!"

"Oh, I manage well", you reply simply, glancing at Nina. "She still needs quite a bit of attention."

"No nanny?"

"No", Ethan says, pulling away from you as his eyes dart to another person in the room. He quickly adjusts his tie. "Y/N insisted on handling it herself. Said she wanted to be hands-on or something. Would you excuse me?"

Off he goes, approaching one of his uncles. You sigh, looking at Nina as Vivian leaves as well.

"What does 'hands-on' mean?", she asks, her eyes wide with curiosity.

"It means I want to be there for you", you reply, trying to make it graspable for the little girl.

You start navigating the room, still holding onto her hand to make sure she doesn't get away. Not necessarily because you're worried you'd lose her — it's a big house, but she's used to it by now —, but rather because she's the only person bridging the gap between you and Ethan's family at the moment. It feels pathetic, to be relying on your daughter like this, but she's still young enough to not mind that at all.

"Nina! Oh my, look at you."

You turn around rapidly as you hear Beatrice's voice behind you. She appeared out of seemingly nowhere, her coifed bob looking as flawless as always. She swoops in and picks Nina up, not bothering to ask either of you.

"Let grandma fix this mess", she says, fussing over her dress and hair. She briefly turns to some woman who can't be much older than you, yet her makeup and outfit make her look at least 50. "Children need a bit more refinement, don't they? Especially at this young age."

"Thank you", you say, trying not to let your frustration show. This isn't unusual behavior for Beatrice, but it still manages to grate on your nerves. "Didn't even notice."

"Of course not, dear. It can be hard looking after a child all by yourself. I don't know how Clara does it, with her three little ones — however, she does have a nanny."

"Good thing I only have Nina", you say curtly, grasping your daughter's hand again and leading her away. She follows without complaining, but she glances at her grandma over her shoulder.

"Mommy, are you mad?"

"Not at you, honey."

"At granny Bee?", she probes, making you smile faintly.

"I'm not mad", you lie, squeezing her hand. "Just a bit tired."

"I'm not tired. Can I go play?", she asks, subtly sneaking a peak at her cousins.

Stifling a sigh, you nod. You don't blame her for wanting to escape the attention of the adults. You wish you could escape, too. Escape to a place — a person — that's too far away for your liking.

"Of course, sweetheart." You gently nudge her forward and she runs off, quickly finding her way to her favorite cousin.

You watch her for a few seconds, then turn around and grab a glass of wine. You've estimated how many hours you have left before you can retreat to the guest suite without coming across as rude, and the result is chastening. If you're going to be stuck here for the next four hours, you'll need at least a bit of alcohol in your system.

You keep fiddling with your necklace, playing with your wedding ring, checking your phone for new messages. Every time you glance at the screen, you secretly hope you'll spot Natasha's name on it. You haven't stopped thinking about her since that day at the park, and not being around her is killing you.

If only she was here. She always knew how to spot your 'tell' — that nervous little gesture you did whenever you were uncomfortable, the one that signaled her to get you away from wherever you are. You know that if you were here with her, she'd have pulled you outside into the gardens about a half hour ago already.

But nope. You keep suffering.

You find yourself standing with a group of people — Ethan's uncle, brother, a few distant relatives. You nod politely as you sip your drink, trying to stay engaged with a conversation about the estate's history. The Bailey family takes pride in their legacy, which is something you don't fully understand.

Again, you feel isolated. It's not their fault, at least that's what you keep telling yourself. They shouldn't have to adjust their topic of conversation just because one person can't relate, should they?

"It's just interesting, isn't it?", Vivian remarks, her gaze idly sweeping across the room. "How many generations have lived here. And so many more to come."

"This, right here — it's our family's legacy. Every single inch of this house, of the property outside. It's been in the family for more than a hundred years", Dean says, his arm wrapped around his wife's waist. She smiles, leaning into his side. Must be nice — Ethan ditched you two hours ago and you haven't spoken to him since. "It'll be ours one day."

"Your brother's first in line. Him and his family", their uncle Andrew remarks, slowly turning his head to look at you. There it is again: that look of genuine curiosity, mixed with a hint of condescension. "You're married into the family now, so it's yours at well."

Please shut up.

"Oh, well..." You smile stiffly, glancing at your almost empty glass of wine. "It's not my priority."

"No? Well, it must be such a change for you. Quite different from what you're accustomed to."

You bite the inside of your cheeks before answering, briefly holding your breath to avoid snapping at the man. His temper definitely surpasses yours — if your patience snaps now, it'll end in a fight.

"I've had time to adjust", you say, sounding clipped.

"It has been quite a few years, yes", Vivian says, nodding. "Ethan is such a good boy. You should've seen him when he was a kid — smart and cheeky. There's this story...I'm not sure if you've heard it, it happened when he was in middle school. He tricked his teacher, his science teacher. He should tell it himself." She looks around, not seeing him anywhere. "Where is he, anyway?"

You feel a light flush rise to your cheeks. "I'm not sure, actually."

The woman gives you a disapproving look. "You're not sure? He's your husband. Come on, he has to be somewhere-"

"Yes, he's my husband", you cut her off, a faint glare on your face. You've officially had enough of these subtle jabs, these microaggressions that are being thrown your way. "Which doesn't mean I need to know where he is at all times. Now, if you'd excuse me for a moment."

You put your glass down with a little more force than necessary, then you spin on your heel and make your way out to the porch. A few people are standing outside, quietly talking in the afternoon sun. You keep walking until you reach an empty corner, one where you're alone, and lean against the railing.

Your mind is spinning, you feel sick to your stomach, you can feel a headache slowly starting to announce itself. Every part of your being wishes you were somewhere else, somewhere you'd feel less isolated.

Red hair appears at the front of your mind, accompanied by green eyes. A little arrow, combat boots. Laughter, low and private, drawing you in instead of pushing you away. Kisses that felt searing, still burned into your mind.

You squeeze your eyes shut, willing those thoughts to go away.

It's not right. None of it is.

Your hand clenches around the railing in frustration, the chilly November air feeling like ice on your skin. You didn't remember to put on a jacket, but you're too exhausted to go back inside. Plus, you'd most likely be confronted by Vivian or Beatrice. If that happened, it'd probably result in you slapping someone.

"Y/N?"

Startled but not surprised, you look over your shoulder — Ethan. The smile on his face is tight, his expression cold. The way he's looking at you isn't too different from how his family does.

"Yes?", you ask, doing your best to mask how irritated you are.

"What are you doing out here? Everyone's asking where you are."

"Oh, really?" You turn around again, staring into the distance. Wide landscapes and bare trees, hedges and stretches of farmland. The sunlight feels thinner and softer now, promising an early dusk. "I didn't realize talking to your family was a full-time job."

He blinks, his neutral expression shifting to one of slight disbelief and irritation. "Seriously?"

"Yes, seriously!" You look at him, not hiding your feelings this time. You've been considerate enough. "I'm tired of it. I've been explaining and defending myself the entire fucking day, but it's useless."

"It's not 'useless'", he begins, stepping closer. "It just takes some effort, Y/N. And you hiding from them makes me look bad."

"I've been making an effort — which you would've known if you hadn't ditched me as soon as the damn party started!" You go silent, then mutter: "And I really don't care how it makes you look."

He pauses, taken aback. Running a hand through his hair, he sighs. "Look, can't- can't you just try? For Nina's sake?"

The mention of your daughter is enough to quiet your retort, but not the anger curling in your chest. All you expected was at least a bit of comfort from Ethan — a few reassuring words, maybe a promise that he'll stay by your side for the rest of the party.

What did he do, though?

He started scolding you like a child.

"I've tried enough", you finally say, stepping away from the railing. "I'm done here."

He frowns. "What?"

"I'm done. I'm leaving. I'll pack my stuff and leave", you say, your mind made up.

"You're being ridiculous", he snaps, crossing his arms. "What are you going to do, huh? Storm off and leave Nina here? That's mature."

"Yes", you say bluntly. You feel a tangled mix of frustration, exhaustion, deep-seated bitterness — you're fed up. "Exactly that. It's not like it'll make much of a difference, anyway."

"'Not much of a difference'?", he echoes, his sharp voice reflecting his bruised ego. "You think this is all about you?"

"Maybe, maybe not! I don't care!"

"Fine! Run, leave! Let Nina wonder why her mother can't even stick it out for her own family!"

His use of Nina as a weapon stings. Your face is pale but set, your jaw tight, as you stare at him. "I'll be sure to let her know her father had more time for his little art project than her", you say coldly, a deliberate steadiness in your tone. You can't allow yourself to crumble.

You turn around and leave, weaving your way through the party and hurrying upstairs. You grab your suitcase and start throwing your stuff into it. Usually, you'd make sure the clothes are neatly folded, but now you don't care. All you want is to disappear from this place.

Downstairs, you look for Nina. You find her with Ethan, holding his hand as they talk to one of his uncles.

"Nina", you say, making her turn. She smiles widely and runs up to you, instantly forgetting about everyone else. You scoop her into your arms and press a kiss to her cheek.

Nina looks at the suitcase next to you, her eyebrows raised in confusion. "Where are you going?"

"I'm going home a bit early", you explain, brushing some hair out of her face. "I'm not feeling well, baby. You'll be okay here, with daddy and granny?"

The girl frowns. "Are you sick, mommy?", she asks, her voice soft with concern. "I can take care of you. I make you tea!"

You smile and shake your head, the ache in your chest growing worse. God, you hate leaving her here — but you don't want to make matters worse.

"That's so sweet of you, honey, but I'll be okay. I just need to rest at home for a bit. You'll have so much fun here, okay? Daddy and granny Bee love you so much."

She pouts, her little hands touching and playing with your necklace. "I want to go home, too."

"Nina", you say quietly, trying to sound reassuring. "You'll go home soon. In two days. I promise."

She looks at you, her head tilted. "Two days?"

"Yes, two days."

She hesitates again, chewing on her lip. "Can you call me?", she then adds.

"I'll call you. Pinky promise", you say, holding out your pinky. She interlocks it with hers and you squeeze it gently.

"Pinky promise", she whispers. "I love you, mommy."

"I love you too, sweetheart. Come on", you say, putting her down.

Ethan immediately steps forward, briefly kissing your cheek and mumbling something along the lines of "get well soon." Pure formality, that much is clear — he's still pissed, but he can't let his family know. They have a certain image of your marriage that he needs to uphold, after all.

They watch you leave as you get into the taxi, standing in the doorway. Nina waves at you, still chewing on her lip nervously. You wave back until you can't see them anymore, then you sigh and slump into the seat. The muffled hum of the car engine seems to amplify the silence, pressing in on you.

Your eyes flicker to the window, but the scenery — a blur of autumn foliage and elegant driveways — fails to register. Your mind is elsewhere.

You instinctively reach for your bag, your hand brushing against your phone. For a split second, Natasha's face flashes in your mind, unbidden but undeniably clear.

Why Natasha?, you think, but the answer comes easily.

Natasha's steady. She's dependable in ways Ethan could never be. She doesn't push, she doesn't judge. Somehow, she always seems to know what you need. She's the only person you can think of who will understand without needing a full explanation, who will listen without offering hollow reassurances.

With her, it was simple. You loved her, she loved you.

Doubt creeps in as your fingers hover over the screen. You can't decide whether this is selfish, whether you'll just end up bothering her.

But the alternative — being alone with your spiraling thoughts — feels unbearable.

You unlock your phone, scrolling to Natasha's name. Before you can second-guess yourself, you press the call button and lift the phone to your ear. It rings once, twice, three times. Your heart thunders as you worry that she won't pick up.

But then, Natasha's voice — steady and familiar — cuts through.

"Y/N?"

"Natasha", you say, something inside you loosening. A shaky breath escapes you. "Are you busy?"

. . .

— SOMETHING LIKE HOME —

Shopping carts clink, checkout registers beep, plastic bags rustle.

You push your cart through the aisles of the grocery store, eyeing fresh produce and holiday-themed items. Natasha's next to you, one hand on the handle of the shopping cart.

This was Natasha's idea. She sensed how emotionally drained and uncertain you were when she picked you up from the airport, so she offered a way for you to unwind and take your mind off whatever you're thinking about. A run to the grocery store seemed perfect: a mundane task, detached from the drama of the day.

"Anything in particular you're craving?", she asks, an underlying current of concern audible.

"No", you say absently, scanning the shelves. You grab a box of cereal, showing it to her. "You think Nina would like this?"

Natasha inspects the box. Frosted Flakes with a cartoon character on it, its unmoving mouth grinning at her. "It is pretty sugary", she says, looking at you. "But kids seem to love that."

You nod and toss the box into the shopping cart. Normally, you don't let Nina have too much sugar — but after you basically abandoned her, you want to make up for what happened. A special sweet treat sounds like the perfect way to do that.

"You could also get this", Natasha says, grabbing a jar of peanut butter. "Go the full indulgence route, you know? Really spoil her."

You see through her with ease. She's trying to keep things lighthearted, which you're immensely grateful for.

"For you or for her?", you ask teasingly, reaching for the jar. Your fingers brush against hers, lingering.

She gives you a sly grin. "Both?"

"You're impossible", you say, but put the jar into the shopping cart anyway.

"I'm just saying —", she says, taking over the shopping cart, "if I ever need to bribe her to stay on my side, I've got the perfect plan."

"I don't think that's necessary. You've already got her wrapped around your finger."

"Well, I do have my charm."

"Yeah", you agree softly. You're all too familiar with her 'charm'. It's always had a hold on you, whether you wanted it to or not. No matter how many times you tried to fight it or push it aside, Natasha always seemed to slip into your mind at the most unexpected times.

You watch her as she puts more items into the shopping cart — a jar of pasta sauce, some pasta, lettuce. She looks so perfectly at ease in that moment, effortlessly casual, as if she's right where she belongs. It's not always been that easy for her. You know that better than anyone else.

A part of you, a part that's always adored Natasha, even when it was impractical to do so, starts to soften again. Just being with her like this makes it feel like you're stepping into an old, familiar rhythm, one that you don't know how to escape from.

"How does cheesecake sound?", you ask, grabbing one from the fridge. "For dessert."

"Love cheesecake", she mumbles, reading the ingredients of a salad dressing. She looks up to briefly catch your eye, then continues looking at the label on the back of the bottle. "You seem calmer", she says, a softness beneath her voice. "More like yourself again."

"Being around you helps", you admit quietly. "You've always had this ability of making everything feel less...heavy. Even just standing there like that. It's almost unfair."

Natasha raises her eyebrows, lowering the salad dressing. "I don't think I've ever been accused of making anything less heavy", she says with a small smirk that quickly mellows into a smile. "But I'm glad it's different with you."

You smile, then clear your throat. Her reaction makes you feel both heavier and lighter at the same time. A sense of safety and relief — feelings you haven't experienced in a while — floods you.

"We're getting sentimental again", you joke, hoping to maintain some sense of distance — even if it's futile. There's that pull again, subtle but undeniable, making you yearn for something you can't quite grasp.

You're not even sure what you want, or how much you're allowed to want.

You probably want more than what's appropriate, and that thought makes you take a step back.

Natasha gives you a curious look as you she notices you creating some distance. She decides not to comment on it and instead continues pushing the shopping cart, her fingers absentmindedly drumming against the handle.

You fall into step beside each other again, the silence between you heavy, but not entirely uncomfortable. You pick up a few more things as you go — chocolate-coated raspberries, some pretzels. Natasha nudges you, the brief touch feeling like an electric shock.

"What's next on the list?"

You reach for your phone to check the list. "Uh...wine?"

Natasha raises an eyebrow, the lighter expression on her face pulling you both back to safer ground. "Now we're talking."

The moment allows you to forget about the tension for now, but just because it's unspoken doesn't mean it goes anywhere — it simmers beneath the surface, lingering, waiting for the right moment rise again.

. . .

The lighting in Natasha's apartment is softer, its only source a lamp in the corner. The remnants of your late dinner sit on the coffee table, forgotten in favor of the wine you now sip. Quietude, rare and delicate, lingers in the air.

"Cozy here", you comment, your legs crossed and your posture much more relaxed than it's been all day. Your eyes lazily take in the space around you — clean, minimalistic, yet without a doubt Natasha's. There's a part of her in every nook, every detail, and it's making you feel warm and fuzzy.

"You think so?", she asks, the corners of her lips lifting into a small, amused smile. "Cozy enough for you?"

You give an almost imperceptible shrug, not bothering to make a big show of it. "I like it. It's just so...you", you say, your words simple but honest. You quietly wonder if you could ever feel at home in a place like this, and you find you could. A thought you won't voice out loud, but one that seems like a weight on your chest. It's too unattainable.

Natasha hums, the sound getting lost in the noise from the city outside. She swirls her wineglass in her fingers, watching the bordeaux liquid slosh around.

"I've been told it's the perfect mix of 'comfortable' and 'pretentious'."

You laugh softly, watching Natasha settle deeper into the couch as her finger traces the rim of her glass. "Well, I could get used to it."

"You've always been good at finding your place", she says after a few seconds of silence, setting the glass down. Just like that, the ease of the moment is gone, vanishing like smoke. It fades with your smile, making Natasha frown.

"I'm not so sure about that anymore", you say, chuckling weakly.

A small silence stretches between you. Natasha watches you for a moment, and the weight of her gaze makes you fidget slightly. You tap the side of your glass, shifting on the couch.

"You okay?", she eventually asks, her voice losing all of its usual sharpness.

"I don't know", you respond honestly, putting your wineglass aside. "I've been...feeling out of place, lately."

Natasha doesn't press. Instead, she leans back, her silence encouraging you to go on.

"It just feels like I'm stuck", you continue, looking at your hands in your lap. "Stuck between two worlds. I don't know what I want anymore. It's all very confusing."

"Sounds heavy."

You wave your hand dismissively, not wanting her to worry too much. Ethan's tendency to nurture this picture-perfect image everyone's supposed to have of your family seems to have rubbed off on you.

"It'll pass, just like everything else", you say, trying to convince both her and yourself. "Just a phase, right?"

"Y/N..."

"I mean", you continue, glancing at her, "things have been difficult, sure. It's hard to feel like I'm going down the right path sometimes. But there has to be a reason why I'm here, right? In this...life."

Natasha can't bring herself to say anything. Your words, heartfelt and sincere but also so damn vulnerable, hit her right in the chest. She's always felt protective over you, even though she knows she shouldn't. Hearing you like this — all confused and frustrated — makes her entire body ache.

"You're not alone", she finally says. You look at her, a lump forming in your throat. "Maybe it feels like you are, but you're not."

You nod, inspecting your fingernails. Not perfectly manicured, with the nail polish chipping off and the cuticles pushed back unevenly.

Why do you always feel the need to distract yourself instead of focusing on what's in front of you?

"It's why I called you", you admit, daring to meet her eye again. She smiles faintly, softening her sharp features in a way that makes your heart stumble.

"I figured", she says gently. "But I'm glad to hear you say it."

"Is it?" You let out a quiet laugh and avert your eyes. "I don't know. It feels like I'm unloading on you."

"You're not unloading", Natasha says quickly, leaning forward slightly with her elbows resting on her knees. Your eyes meet, momentarily making the guilt in your chest fade away. "You're reaching out. There's a difference."

Her words wrap around you, reassuring you in a way you didn't know you needed. But you did need it. You craved it, sought it out, all whilst never receiving it from the one person who promised he'd be there forever.

You feel foolish. You married someone who could never fill the spaces in your heart, someone who was maybe never interested in those spaces in the first place. You deliberately ignored the fact that you already had someone who was willing to follow you to the ends of the universe.

"You make it sound so easy", you say quietly.

"It's not", Natasha admits. "But it's worth it."

Your breath catches as you look up, meeting those impossibly green eyes that always seem to look right through you. There's no pretense, no agenda in Natasha's gaze — just honesty and that familiar kind of adoration.

"Natasha..." Your voice falters.

"Don't overthink it", she says. "You don't need to have all the solutions. Just let yourself be here."

"Here", you mumble, feeling yourself lean into the moment — into her warm presence, into the comfort of her home — and suddenly, your world feels a little less heavy. You grab your wineglass and take a small, steadying sip. "I don't even know what 'here' means anymore."

She smiles faintly. "It can mean whatever you need it to. Right now, it just means...this."

You look up, caught by the simplicity of her words. "This?"

"You and me, sitting here. No expectations, no pressure." Natasha tilts her head. "Us."

"You make it sound so easy", you repeat — but this time, there's no trace of doubt in your voice. You set the wineglass down with a soft 'clink', Natasha's eyes tracing your movements. She leans back, her own glass forgotten.

"It can be", she says in a way that makes your pulse quicken.

You swallow, hesitating for a short moment. The ring on your finger suddenly feels impossibly heavy, like a weight dragging you down. You decide to ignore it.

"It should be", you say softly, and it's all the permission Natasha needs.

She leans in, giving you the space to pull away. But you meet her halfway, feeling her hand on your cheek, her breath on your face.

Her lips brush over yours, feather-light and tentative, testing the waters. You lean in more as you allow her to deepen the kiss, feeling her mouth press against yours with a little more urgency.

First soft and gentle, now more desperate and hungry. You try to satiate the need you're feeling, but it seems impossible. Your hands grasp at Natasha's sides, feeling the heat of her skin through her shirt. Her thumbs press into your cheeks, keeping your face close and your lips locked with hers.

You can barely breathe at this point and you're not sure why. All you know is that the lack of oxygen is making you feel lightheaded and that the knot in your chest has loosened, allowing you to melt into her.

Her hand slides to the back of your neck, gently toying with the soft hairs at your nape. You make a soft noise and pull away, your breathing as ragged as hers.

"Dammit", you curse quietly, your body slumping into the pillows behind you. Your face is flushed, just like hers, and your breath is coming in quick pants.

"Y/N", she starts softly, despite the ache she's feeling deep in her soul. "Talk to me."

You shake your head and run a shaking hand through your hair. There's a glimmer in your eyes — of fear, regret, something you aren't quite ready to name.

"I shouldn't have-" You take a deep, unsteady breath. "I need a minute", you mutter, pushing yourself off the couch and taking a few steps away. Natasha stays where she is, her eyes following you.

"Take your time", she says quietly, her hands balled into fists — holding herself back is an effort.

You pace a few steps, fingers twisting the hem of your shirt. You stare at the far wall, your mind racing in circles. Ethan, Nina, your marriage, your carefully constructed life that seems like it's been falling apart — and now Natasha, and the kiss, only further solidifying your belief that what you have won't last long.

"I just- I-" You shake your head and look at her again. Your voice is laced with frustration. "This wasn't supposed to happen. I came here to...I don't even know anymore."

"You came here because you needed someone", Natasha says simply. Her green eyes are unwavering, as steady as you've known them to be. "And I'm glad you did."

Your lips part as if to argue, but no words come. Your chest is falling and rising unevenly as your gaze flits to the floor and then back to Natasha. "It's not fair", you say quietly.

"What isn't?", she asks, frowning slightly.

Your movements are tight, almost defensive, as you gesture between the two of you. "This. You. Us. The way it makes me question everything."

"Y/N", she says slowly as she gets up from the couch, her movements hesitant. "You're allowed to question things. You can't always figure everything out immediately."

"No", you snap, your entire body tense. "I chose this mess. I made my bed, and now-"

"And now you're allowed to get up", Natasha cuts you off, her voice firm but not unkind. "You don't have to be stuck in it forever."

"It's not that easy", you say weakly. "I don't know how to do it. I don't know what to do."

Natasha steps closer, her hand hovering above your arm for a moment. Then she pulls back, her gaze finding yours.

"You'll figure it out", she says softly. "You always do."

The kiss was a release of emotions you've been bottling up for way too long, but it also made your need to be close to her even more apparent. You crave the safety she provides, the passion, the knowledge that she — unlike Ethan — will always care.

Being with her soothes something raw inside you. It's something you've been feeling more and more lately, and you're tired of holding back.

Without another word, your hands fist the front of her shirt. Her lips meet yours in yet another kiss, one that's messy yet grounding.

There's no hesitation, no holding back this time. Natasha wraps her arms around you and pulls you close, drawing out the kiss until you're both breathless. You pull away and rest your forehead against hers, breathing heavily.

"Still need a minute?", Natasha murmurs, smiling faintly.

"Yeah", you mumble back, an amused, halfhearted huff escaping you. Your hands smooth down the front of her shirt, straightening away the small creases. "I should go home", you say, your tone somewhere between apologetic and guilt-ridden.

Natasha just nods, her thumbs rubbing your sides soothingly. "Take your time", she repeats, this time a bit more sincerely. "Take a few days off, now that you've got the house to yourself."

"I will." You slide your hands up to her face, cupping it, and then give her a quick goodnight-kiss.

When you leave, it doesn't feel like a goodbye. Not this time.

. . .

— THE QUIET BEFORE —

There's a reason why Nina spends most of her time with you.

He's never been paternal, or nurturing, or great with kids. They're cute, he has to admit that, and he likes the idea of having a descendant. He's awkward in moments where Nina needs reassurance or comfort, he doesn't know how to talk to her without feeling like he's downplaying his own intelligence, and the lack of emotional connection is apparent.

He lets you handle basically everything child-related — and it shows.

It's only been a few hours of Ethan being alone with his daughter, and he's already about to lose his mind. The girl was chatting nonstop during the flight already, and now, sitting in the back of the car, she still won't stop. It's like she's got an endless reservoir of words she needs to use up as quickly as possible.

He's not used to this chatterbox of a child. He knows she can talk, but damn it, she sounds like a broken record. It's so bad his head has started to pound. Not even work stresses him out like this, despite it being fast paced and demanding.

"Okay, honey", he interrupts her, glancing at her through the rearview mirror, "we gotta make a quick stop at my office, yeah? I need to grab some stuff."

Nina nods, her hands toying with the tiny sweater her teddy bear is wearing. It's one her other grandma — your mom — knitted for the stuffie.

"Are we going home to mommy?", she then pipes up.

"Yes, yes, we're going home soon. I just need to check something."

Ethan pulls into the parking lot behind the office building and parks the car. He briefly registers the presence of a few other cars — not surprising —, but what really makes him pause is the unfamiliar Jeep parked across from him.

After a few seconds of just staring at it, he decides he's being paranoid. He turns around to face Nina, his hand on the side of the passenger seat.

"I'll be back in a few minutes. Don't leave the-"

"Mommy's friend!"

He frowns as he's cut off by a suddenly ecstatic Nina. "What?"

She keeps bouncing in her seat, eagerly waving at someone outside. The girl clearly has no idea she might be getting Natasha, or you, into trouble — she's just happy to see the nice lady again.

Ethan turns his head and follows her gaze, spotting a red haired woman as she makes her way towards the Jeep. A black blazer and a matching skirt, her hand loosely clasping a file.

I knew I haven't seen that car before, he thinks.

"That's mommy's friend", Nina repeats excitedly. "She was at the gallery. And we played in the park."

"Oh yeah?", Ethan says, his mind starting to race. He knows you haven't expanded your close circle of friends during the past few months; surely, you would've informed him in some way. Finding out that this unknown woman has met Nina twice doesn't sit right with him, for some reason.

But then again, it's not like he's too involved in your or your daughter's life — he's a busy man, after all, working overtime and constantly on the run. Even when he's at home, he's working on things.

He debates confronting you about it, but ultimately decides against it. If this stranger is connected to you, it could mean trouble — trouble he doesn't want to call attention to. He tries telling himself it's no big deal, that it's probably just a big coincidence.

Despite his best efforts to convince himself that everything will be alright, he feels his paranoia grow as the Jeep pulls out of the parking lot.

"Daddy?", Nina interrupts his train of thoughts. He turns around with a slight start. "I want to go home."

"In a minute."

. . .

"Hey, baby!"

You smile as Nina runs straight into your arms. It's only been a few days, but you missed your daughter more than anything.

You pick her up with ease, her entire body slumping into your embrace.

"I missed you", she says sincerely, her warm breath sweet like apple juice.

"I missed you too", you reply, rubbing her back. Your eyes flit back to Ethan, who's carrying two suitcases into the house. Oddly enough, it seems like he isn't mad at you for leaving anymore. He actually seems pretty unruffled, which is a surprise — after what happened, you'd expected him to be more than just pissed. "You okay?"

"I'm good", he says, glancing at you. He smiles faintly. "Kid missed you. Guess there's a reason why she prefers you."

"No kidding", you say, cracking a smile, and follow him into the house. He puts his suitcase next to the staircase. "You're not taking that upstairs?"

"No, actually", he says as he makes his way to his office. "There's a work trip coming up. I'm leaving tomorrow morning."

You pause, taken aback. Of course, work trips aren't anything unusual in his line of work. He frequently travels to other cities or countries to meet clients, attend networking events, pitch new investment opportunities — this, however, seems abrupt.

"Oh", you say slowly, gently putting Nina down. "Okay."

"I'll replace a few of the clothes I packed. Care to grab me that one gray suit? The one from Italy."

"Yeah, yeah, sure." You nod absentmindedly and follow him upstairs. He disappears into his office, shutting the door behind him, and you round the corner and enter your bedroom.

You step into the walk-in closet and rummage through his collection of suits until you find the one he asked for. Then, just to be nice and make it easier on him, you open the drawer with his shirts. As you start to organize a few, your fingers brush against a folder of documents hidden underneath the clothes. It's barely visible — clearly, he tried to hide it, but not well enough.

For a moment, you consider letting it be. Spare yourself the trouble, forget about it, pretend it doesn't exist. But your curiosity gets the better of you, so you gently pull the folder out from underneath the shirts.

You open it and scan the first document.

A financial statement, outlining a series of transactions from an unnamed offshore account to Durant Enterprises. Ethan's name — Consultation Fee: Ethan Bailey — appears in the memo line of one transaction for $50,000.

What confuses you the most is the handwritten note, in neat, feminine script, underneath:

"All set for the Zurich project — talk soon.

- Isabelle."

Your shaky fingers struggle to push the document aside and reveal the next one.

A partial draft of a business agreement between Ethan and Durant Enterprises; the text is mostly filled with jargon, but it hints at a high-risk, high-reward investment opportunity that would require discretion.

At the bottom?

Ethan's signature, right next to Isabelle's.

Then, an email.

Subject Line: "Zurich Timeline Adjustment"

From: isabelledurant@durantenterprises.com

To: ethanb@nycinvestments.com

Hi Ethan,

As discussed, the timeline for Zurich needs to move up for next month. I've already made the necessary arrangements on my end, but I need confirmation from you that everything is good to go.

Let me know if you'd like to discuss this further — dinner next week, maybe? Same place, same time? I'll make the reservation.

- Isabelle.

It's the final nail in the coffin. Your unease shifts into something sharper, almost unbearable. Your eyes start to burn, but no tears seem to come. But why cry, anyway?

It's not like you've been faithful, either. But for some reason, what you did feels different.

Stop — you've kissed Natasha, you've wanted Natasha. If he's guilty, then so are you. You can't ignore the paralleles between what you did and what you suspect Ethan might be doing.

'Suspect' being the keyword here. You have no clear evidence yet. All of these documents point in the same direction, but none of them confirm any of your suspicions. As far as you know, Isabelle Durant could be a business partner.

You barely manage to tuck the folder back under his clothes when you hear someone enter the bedroom. You look to your right with a start, then relax once you see it's Nina. It's a relief to see her instead of Ethan. She won't ask questions as to why you're digging through his stuff.

"Mommy? Can we go play?", she asks, clumsily running her hand over her messy hair.

You smile and crouch down, gently pulling her closer.

"In a minute", you promise, kissing her cheek. "I just have to help daddy pack."

"Okay", she says, giggling at the kiss. She frees herself from your loose hug and rushes off, her tiny feet pattering down the hall. She leaves you in the quiet of the room, the weight of the documents still pulling at your thoughts.

Finally, you straighten up.

You'll have time for this later. For now, you'll focus on your daughter.

✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷

🌙 tagged (as per request): @scarletsstarlets

[shanastoryteller]

Hi, long time reader. Thank you for your incredible brain and bringing your writing into the outside world. You might have answered it before but I don’t remember ever seeing it. How many times do you read/watch/refer to your source material? Like, do you decide to rewatch a series once every couple of years or do you watch it once, get inspired and then mostly focus on your own interpretation

hi! thank you! :)

answering publicly because it got kinda long and i thought other people might be interested

it depends! usually on how closely a fic is in conversation with the source material and if i've consumed it recently. like for my dead boy detective fic, i'd just watched it, i didn't need to review anything, and i'm often inspired to write after reading/watching

i haven't read harry potter since maybe high school, possibly middle school. i was 13 when deathly hallows came out and i remember being so underwhelmed by it, especially since i hadn't really liked half blood prince either, and i don't think really reread it after. for siat i just use sparknotes or google something something if i can't remember because for a long time it was in pretty close conversation with canon. i'd literally read the sparknotes for a couple chapters, think about how i wanted that to go in my fic, and update the outline. my other hp fic i'd just google something if i couldn't remember

while writing lynchpin, which was very in conversation with canon, i'd literally watch an episode, or to a certain point in the episode, then go and write until that point. i had stuff and arcs in mind, but that's how i kept pace and made sure i didn't miss anything on accident. however, i haven't watched untamed since completing lynchpin, which was my first untamed fic, but nothing else has been so closely in conversation with canon

i didn't consume any canon prior to writing my avengers fic because what good would it do me lol. speak of her is directly after infinity war pt 2 which i've never seen. i just knew that tony died and i thought it was bullshit

at the rind was while i was in the middle of a house rewatch, but anything after season 4/5 i probably googled because that's when i thought the show started to decline

pour herbel oil was definitely in pretty close conversation with the canon. i did with nirvana in fire kind of what i did with untamed, watching any scene with yujin and figuring out how i wanted to slide it a little to the left

supernatural is probably one where i'm most frequently checking the source material directly. this is partially because i first watched it a looooong time ago (like watched real time through most of season 4, although i really hated what they were doing with dean, then fully fell off when season 5 started because i hated the direction it was going so much) and because the boys and their relationship have gone through so many arcs and cycles that i want to make sure i'm hitting them both correctly for the time period they're in. see something say something i'd rewatch the episodes with cases i was including, but not much else, but that fic is probably in the least conversation with canon. back was a direct result of me rewatching when the levee breaks and hating it. no safe investments was just me being like, i think dean should have crashed out waaaay more about sam dying the first time. once i decided to expand the great puzzle i rewatched season 5 so i'd know what i'm working with and it was a SLOG at times, especially early season 5, because the way sam is treated just fills me with rage. but it's like, if i'm going to have the boys dig themselves out of this hole of bullshit, i need to know how deep it goes

so the broad answer is usually not at all, except with specific fics that are in such close conversation with canon that i have to make sure i'm hitting the timeline/references right. i have a pretty good memory so unless we're getting that specific, i don't feel the need to review source material that i haven't in a while

[miley1442111]

thank god for dr. spencer reid

a/n: this was written with a fem!reader in mind but imagine what you want, reader has a period (same girl) :) spencer us such a cutie in this :)))))))

summary: your shitty family is in town and spencer is away, what will you do?

pairing: spencerreid x reader

warnings: heavy family issues, mentions of stress and sickness, very brief mention of abuse (litch not talked about just referenced dw), kinda cursing (just realised i've never warned this before... opps) and i might've missed some!

My eyes are glued to the screen with a perpetual frown playing on my lips. It’s hard to try to care about my job when I have this looming feeling of dread hanging over me like a cloud. Spencer has been MIA for days now. He left in a hurry on Monday night for a case. It’s Saturday now and he hasn’t been responding to my calls. On top of that, I have dinner with my mother and father. Both of them make it abundantly clear that they’re disappointed in my career choice, which is ridiculous because I’m a lawyer. Not the right kind of lawyer they constantly say. I’m an environmental lawyer and I make good money. The only way to satiate their insufferable whining is with Spencer. They love him. They probably love him more than me at this point. Alas, I will just have to deal with them alone tonight. And today has already been one hell of a day. First, Morgan called me,asking where Spencer was, telling me that they finished and that they should be home soon. He had not come home yet. Secondly, I feel like shit, an allergic reaction, my period and some random nausea all add up to making me feel itchy, gross, and practically vile all over. Thirdly, a huge pimple has decided to pop up on my face and  just know my mother will comment on it. My mother is one of those women who look effortlessly put-together 24/7. I am not one of those women. She does not like women who don’t look effortlessly put together. Aka, she barely tolerates me. 

I sigh and close my laptop screen, unable to reread the same few sentences again and again, hoping that they would get into my brain. I’m defending a client, one of my firm's biggest clients, in court next week. They were accused of illegal dumping (dumping they did not commit) and now they’re being sued for 2 million dollars. I slump out of my desk chair and out of my home office, locking it behind me for the weekend ahead. If I have court next week and Spencer is coming home after a difficult case, then we’ll need a day or rest and relaxation together. That is, if he even bothers to come home. I busy myself with getting ready and try to push those thoughts out of my head. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The last hour of my life has been 60 minutes of absolute misery. Why did I ever accept this invite? My mother excuses herself to the bathroom and my father excuses himself for a cigarette, I nod along. Then it hits me… my dad doesn’t smoke anymore. I stare at the door and before I can stop myself my face contorts into a frown once again. Amelia, my sister. The sister that I haven't seen in years. The sister that bullied and abused me throughout our teenage years. Fuck. 

“Amelia?” I question, looking at the blonde woman who looks… different. She’s obviously older than I remember, and a bit more… I don’t know how to put it. Her blonde hair surpasses her waist and she seems to be pregnant? Her blue eyes seem dull and lack a certain vividness they used to sparkle with. She’s the typical peaking in high-school mean girl who became a nurse girl. I honestly can’t believe I used to look up to her. 

“It’s so good to see you!” She smiles, one of her fake-bitchy smiles and I grimace as she tries to hug me. “I just wanted to know how you’re doing, especially with the baby on the way, I’ll need all the help I can get!”

My heart drops. “Oh!” Is all I can manage. She sits in the seat beside me and I instinctively move further away. Just as I think this stupid dinner can’t get any worse, her pervy fiancé, Johnny, walks in.

“No Spencer?” He smirks. “What? Did you two break up? He was always too vanilla for you, you need a real man-” 

“No, sorry. I was just late. I had to come straight from the jet,” Spencer smiles from behind him. My parents' eyes light up, as Amelia and Johnny’s faces fall. I smile appreciatively at him as he hands the flowers he brought over to my parents and sits beside me, a comforting hand on my thigh. 

“How’s work, Spencer?” My father asks, his undivided attention on Spencer.

“It’s good, strenuous but good. Our cases recently haven’t been too difficult- though there was one that had a puzzle I thought you might enjoy…”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

I walk inside our house behind him, a million thoughts at once flowing through my head. We walk to the kitchen, he sits me down and takes off my shoes for me, a true gentleman. 

He presses a kiss to my cheek and smiles. “You look beautiful.”

I just nod back, a small smile on my lips. 

“Is everything alright?” He asks, turning to me, his hands resting on my waist. 

“Fine,” I tiredly smile. “Just… you know, it’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

“You know, saying that makes me worry more, right?:” He smiles softly, though we both know he’s serious. 

“I just… I can’t believe she just showed up, like 7 years  of not seeing her and she just shows up? Like it’s casual? And then asks for our help with her baby? Like she did nothing to me? Like she-” I stop myself, determined not to cry right now. 

“Angel, it’s ok, let it out,” he soothes, a hand on my back, rubbing comforting circles. 

“I don’t want to cry though, they’re not worth crying over.”

“Then how about we get ready for bed, yeah angel?” He offers, a tired look in his eyes. I nod and press a soft to his perfect lips. He smiles against my mouth, his hands finding the sides of my face. I run a hand through his hair. He pulls away softly, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” I smile. “Thank you for coming, my knight in shining armour.” 

“I enjoyed it. Watching your father fail to solve a simple puzzle was amusing.” He smirks, a mischievous glint in his eye as I roll my eyes. 

“We’re not all geniuses,” I remind him. 

“You are.”

“And how am I a genius?” I chuckle.

“You’re dating me, you clearly have superior taste and intelligence,” he says matter-of-factly. I gigle at his antics and kiss him again. He pulls away and grabs my hand, leading me into our room. We both opt out of brushing our teeth and washing our faces, a makeup wipe sufficing for removing my makeup. He pulls me into bed with him, and finally, after a long week, I finally lie down in bed with him, his arms around me in a bear-hug of sorts. This is heaven. He’s my knight in shining armour. Thank God for Dr. Spencer Reid. 

[lawsbbygirl]

LAWLULAW FIC RECS PART 2

Link to part 1: here I finally got around to making a part two. I've read many fics since, and down below I'll link some of my favorites. There's a massive amount of incredibly talented writers in this fandom, and every day I feel so grateful to be a part of it, so please, don't take my recs as gospel, and look for fics yourself too. There are many amazing works that I've definitely missed adding, or that I haven't even read yet. I trust you all to shower the authors in kudos and positive comments! As a side note, I also write fics for this ship, so if you want to read my works, you can do that here!

Completed works:

Sating Hunger by xairylle 5,336 words, M "At the end of the day, even with all the major blunders that almost cost him his life, Law decided that this alliance had been worth it. Until he fucked it up by not being able to hold himself back from kissing Monkey D. Luffy." i will follow you into the dark by koudai 14,822 words, T "In the aftermath of Luffy’s and Blackbeard’s fight at Laugh Tale, Law dies as he performs the Perennial Youth Operation, to save Luffy’s life.

we've got blood and honey (getting high and getting some) by Trashgalore 11,158 words, E LawLu. Wound fucking, blood play, masochism... need I say more? Absolutely delicious. Easy Come, Easy Go by traszka 3,312 words, Gen "So, not-ally," Straw Hat strikes up again, "are you gonna kiss me, or what?" i’m a saint living in sin by corasonrie 4,340 words, M Human!Law, vampire!Luffy. Beautiful prose in this one.

Broken Hearts by Dragon_Falls 33,943 words, M Canon spoilers. "After retreating from Blackbeard, Bepo takes Law to the Thousand Sunny for help. Law is so broken that he doesn't even realize that the virus from the battle has returned. He now has to deal with his grief and a new body that he hates." Here Cums Peter Cottontail by Alte 13,802 words, E LuLaw. Ridiculously horny encounter between bunny hybrid Law and a hungry Luffy. Read the tags! Ice Ice Baby by killyhawk 9,265 words, E Hockey AU of my dreams. Fireflies by Martilla 63,531 words, E LuLaw. Old man yaoi AU. Absolutely adore this one. on every candle (i wish for you) by Minniaa 6,941 words, E LawLu. Luffy makes Law's birthday a million times better. So hot! Fog by Oh_Whoa 9,244 words, E LawLu. "Zoology professor Law hitches a ride on the Thousand Sunny." This one is so effortlessly hilarious and delicious. Obsessed with it! hanabi by quackquackcey 4,840 words, E LuLaw. "A lazy sunset at the beach, a stroll through the summer festival, a dash amidst hanabi—their feelings finally connect." Beautifully written omegaverse. Pirates Don't Have Love Stories by Kyrathel 19,617 words, E LawLu. Mpreg. "Luffy gathers a crew and battles with his gender identity." I love this fic so much and have reread it several times. Read the tags! We Should Get Rid of our Innocence Together by vomsa 44,109 words, E Switch. This one is such a fun story of our boys losing their virginities to each other. Humor, delicious smut, and just a great read! ᚴᚱᚢᛘᛘᛁ by MisuAnonimasu 10,589 words, E LawLu. Viking!AU of my dreams! The whole series is a fantastic read. like sunshine and marigolds by fallflowers 42,182 words, E LawLu. The perfect childhood friends to lovers fic. you're not just a human being (you are art) by orphan_account 3,127 words, E LuLaw. Law grows his hair out and Luffy has a crisis. So cute! The Doctor is Snowed In by Anonymous 35,867 words, E LawLu. "Wherein Luffy learns a little more about his anatomy and tests the patience and bond of his newly formed alliance while stuck in a cave on Punk Hazard." I love this fic SO much. and we'll have a spring wedding by Killyhawk 4,895 words, M "A 40-year-old Luffy appears on the Thousand Sunny with unexpected news." AMAZING READ. One of my faves for sure. Logistics by ST_Osmanthus 4,241 words, E LawLu. "The alliance succeeded. The mission is over. It’s time to go." This one is so fun! A Good Man Is Hard To Find by Masked Deuce 29,566, E DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. Serial killer!Law and cannibal!Luffy. Read the tags. Love this one so much. Tea'sing All The Way Through by Camafeu 274,600 words, E Modern AU. One of those fics that left a mark on me. It made me cry, laugh, scream, and I'll never forget it EVER. Definitely in my top five of all time. Autonomous Sensory Meridian Response by DidntThinkofAName 9,302 words, E LawLu. "Luffy sees Nami fiddling with a pair of tiny transponder snails and begs her to let him try them out. Things get out of hand.

Or, the one where Law does ASMR." I'm so obsessed with this fic, I could read it a thousand times. I shine only with the light you gave me by bokkuroo 5,766 words, E LawLu. God of Death Law and God of the Sun Luffy. Very sweet and spicy. Treats by Rainy_atw 6,124 words, E LawLu. "Luffy gets golden-retrieverd." This is so fun and hot, OBSESSED.

Ongoing works:

After the Fall by Minniaa 4/? chapters, E LuLaw. Beautiful AU based on the Icarus myth. Sun King by Newmoondust 1/? chapters, E Roman empire AU where Luffy is a gladiator, and Law is a priest. Gorgeously written and I'm so invested only one chapter in! a scripted empathy by lances 2/8 chapters, E Law is a serial killer and Luffy is an underground fighter, but that's not enough to explain how riveting this fic is. Unique and captivating! Hold My Heart, it's Beating for You Anyway by 7raffy_law 5/? chapters, E LawLu. My absolute favorite vampire fic. Beautifully written with an engrossing plot, and fantastic characterization. shadow rises (and you are here) by shishiswordsman 8/11 chapters, E This author is one of my absolute favorites, and this fic makes you feel despair, sorrow, pain, but also flickers of hope masterfully weaved inbetween. The angst is spectacular, and the bond between Law and Luffy and how it's written takes my breath away. Of fans and filmstars by N_Moonbreeze 6/? chapters, E Switch. Pornstar!AU that hits the spot. Love this author's writing style and this fic in particular has me in a chokehold.

Don't Assume by Kyrathel 14/? chapters, E LuLaw. Fem!Law. This fic is so much fun to read, with delicious smut as well. "Luffy meets Law online playing a game. He isn't really what he thought she was..." Curiosity Killed The Cat... But The Hot Wolf Doctor Brought Him Back by vomsa 15/? chapters, E Such a fun and yummy omegaverse fic. Absolutely adore it!

[azulbestpeacock]

THANK YOU FOR THE TAG MY LOVE

1. three ships: also max brinly/laura kearney, yui hirasawa/azusa nakano, komi shouko/tadano hitohito

2. first ever ship: probably either pinkie pie/cheese sandwich or discord/fluttershy

3. last song: shinkiro by houshou marine and gawr gura

4. last film: puppy love

5. currently reading: the new jim crow: mass incarceration in the age of colorblindness by michelle alexander

6. currently watching: komi-san can't communicate

7. currently consuming: mountain dew voodew zero sugar

8. currently craving: dairy queen frosted sugar cookie blizzard

tag nine ppl - @xxgh0stxt33thxx @princehugo @moodlevoodle @agodsdamnednerd @clowncrumbs @bimyheel @the-magicalpotato @victorian-lad @infinitemacaroni

9 ppl to get to know better

aaaa okay thank you @cloudycaffeinatedcryptid for the tag 💜💜 I haven't done a tag game in A While so I kinda forgot they were still around lmao

1. three ships: max brinly/laura kearney, natsuki subaru/emilia, and akane kurashiki/junpei tenmyouji/carlos (for vastly different reasons than the other two), and now that I'm typing that gotta say I'm noticing a bit of a Theme there

2. first ever ship: I think it genuinely might have been danny fenton and sam manson from danny phantom

3. last song: idol by yoasobi. no I have not watched oshi no ko it's just a banger

4. last film: the fnaf movie 😔

5. currently reading: uhhh beyond The Fanfics I've been trying to reread the importance of being earnest. Emphasis on trying because I always find something else to do

6. currently watching: aimsey playing little nightmares <3<3 LN you will always be famous

7. currently consuming: nothing

8. currently craving: curry istg it's always curry

tag nine ppl - (sorry in advance if anyone doesn't want to 👍)

@sethopophobia @khattikeri @raspberrycherry @newra181 @ihateyukanda @daisysmartheart @having-a-harp-time @blu-roux @azulbestpeacock

[marronje]

Now having gotten somewhat used to the void in my chest I can finally drag all my thoughts about the epilogue into one pile

I know it may be getting old for some of you guys already, but I haven't seen some things being discussed anywhere

My problem with the ending is actually with the audience, I literally have almost no issues with how the epilogue is written, all the minor ones I have don't come from the epilogue but the previous plot building which wasn't perfect by all means.

1. People forget that this chapter isn't the Epilogue but the Epilogue pt. 2

TWO PARTS YOU KNOW

Please reread 430. You did? Now let's compare.

a) Can you see what the chapter is focused on? 430 is a lot more shallow, it focuses on facts and tries to contain all the changes at once and looks VERY rushed. Hori didn't have much time with his schedule, so of course he tried to fit all at once and nothing at all. This chapter is more about the system and facts, trying to answer the more crucial questions fans may have.

Chapter 430 has ~20 pages

431 has almost 40 (!)

b) 431 finally has time to look at the characters up close. Why there is so much about Uraraka? Well, because in the pt. 1 she's got one panel and a couple of words. That's why half the chapter is about her now, because she and Izuku are the male and female leads of the manga.

c) Why didn't we have more of Katsuki? Well, this character isn't very known for huge inner monologues and all this sappy stuff. We can get enough from character interaction and subtle cues, as always. Despite being a big asshole and a major loudmouth (I say this with all my love and adoration guys), Katsuki is a really stoic character. And this kind of character doesn't need a whole 5 pages writing down their motivation and inner thought process. I like this. This man remains the most conscious person here and has the greatest development in the series (and Shoto, sure, these two are on the whole other level compared to others in terms of writing)

Izuku and Ochako are more open to us, and it shows in the chapter's way of storytelling

And Shoto is still the most relatable dude here, me too, Shoto, me too...

2. Izuku is NOT shutting Katsuki out of his life. He basically invited him to TEACH TOGETHER just like Katsuki invited him to BE HEROES TOGETHER.

To me it shows clearly that these two just found their two paths that don't align fully. Izuku has been teaching for years after his quirk was gone. Sure, he still adores hero job, but he already has stability and purpose and it's IMPORTANT to him. He's only been back to heroics for a month after all. Izuku has matured significantly, and I respect that about his character even if it's not perfectly written.

"Izuku wouldn't ever decline the offer". Do I need to remind you that it's whole 8 years after their school days?

Imagine yourself 16, dreaming to start a rock band with your best friend. You're both so passionate about it, you think music is the most beautiful thing in your life and you'll never be over it.

But you get your fingers injured severely, and you can't play your guitar anymore. You're devastated, but your knowledge is valuable and you get a whole teaching degree and go to work in a musical college. It feels very fulfilling to you. But your friend is very talented, he continues and pushes forward and actually becomes a worldwide known rock star! You're so glad for him!

But the time passes, and your friend, now famous and loaded, states – you're getting most expensive treatment and surgery, and we – I and our old band bros – pay for this.

And your fingers, they work properly again. You had a whole life of 8 years, and now there are so many possibilities open. You know your friend wants you to join his band and travel and rock the stage together, he offers it to you without expecting much, because he knows you have your life settled already, you can't change that with a flick of a wrist. He's an understanding friend, even if his passion for your old shared dream burns brighter still. You can join his band for a concert or two once in a while, it's a good reprieve from your everyday life. But as much as you love music, your priorities shifted significantly since your youth – and now teaching is as important and precious to you.

You even invite your friend to give a lesson of two in the college where you work. It's a way for you two still remain in each other's lives even if your paths are a bit different now. Your connection is built on compromise and genuine support from both sides, and it's fantastic!

I know the analogy isn't perfect, but it works I suppose.

3. About Himiko and Ochako. It's a painful one, but

No, Himiko wasn't haunting Ochako for the whole 8 years, it's probably a time to time occasion. It's not because Ochako is tired, it's because she can't let go of her guilt and at particularly taxing times it manifests in these visions.

Dreams are still a big mystery for science, but what we know is that they're almost always NOT about what you see, but about the hidden layers of meaning.

And of course we know this is not REAL Himiko, it's just Ochako's mind.

So I don't understand all the weeping around Himiko now being DEAD FOR REAL OH. This is Ochako's mind, not a literal Toga's spirit no matter how much Horikoshi wants his symbolisms to be literal in this story. It's still open to interpretation if Toga is dead or notnot (she's coping).

Tsuyu is so Tsuyu 😭😭😭

Right, my girl, this dummy really thought there's something wrong with her health while she just needed to see a psychologist...

I remind you that psychotherapy is severely underdeveloped in Japan. There's still a lot of stigma around mental health there, so please keep this mentality in your mind while reading manga. "They could just go and see a therapist." No, they couldn't. Their culture doesn't work like this, and societal norms aren't a joke in Japan, they're literally overwhelming.

And about how this chapter "ruined" Himiko. To me, it didn't.

"Himiko was written for Ochako". Exactly. Ochako's main negative character trait was inability to open up about her true feelings, putting up a cheerful front and all that.

Himiko was created to get her to understand what suppressing emotions does to people. Unfortunately, it seems she didn't catch this message fully until Himiko told her with plain words and freaking pushed her forward.

And isn't it a torture for Himiko seeing Ochako beating herself over her death, putting up a brave front to avoid her inner struggle which is COMPLETELY OPPOSITE to what Himiko tried to convey?

And Himiko loved both Izuku and Ochako, so of course she wants them to be special for each other and open up to each other too.

Because Himiko LOVES love in any form (pun intended), and wishes happiness for her special people, and sees how they have been holding back from living how they wanted.

Do you really think Himiko would prefer a depressed Ochako having hallucinations of her over an Ochako who's opening up and rebuilding connections with the man she yearned to reach out to for so long?

And of course I'm not about the ship. This manga was never about the ships. We've got a clue that Izuku barely had any contact with his former classmates since graduation in 430. This chapter is created to gives us hope that it'll change, starting with Uraraka because Uraraka was the one to reach out to him first in the beginning, and now it's his turn.

I imagine that it's just a start of the reconnection arc. Izuku can do this with the rest of his classmates too later, and knowing his tendency to butt into others' business he certainly will.

(Yeah, it's an actually good idea for a new tome for you Hori, not Boruto 2.0, never Boruto 2.0 please...)

4(?). This one has gotten me confused...

They studied 3 years... so they must have become class 2-A, then 3-A.... I hope it's a bad translation.

Do you trust Jirou? She certainly did put a whole ton of wasabi in his food, look at her face

Katsuki not toasting because he's the sober friend for his whole bunch of idiots>>>>

(he really has come here for the food)

Katsuki, when did you undergo your Syndrome arc?

[queenburd]

The use of color in The Stanley Parable: HD and Ultra Deluxe (with honorable mentions to the Demo)

dedicated to @squuote who needs more TSP analysis to rotate

A little over a year ago, I (only somewhat jokingly) lay out the argument that while The Stanley Parable is notorious in its use of yellow, the color yellow is not actually associated to the Narrator. The color most associated with him, I argued, was red. [1, 2]

I've had plenty of thoughts regarding color and TSP in the interim and I want to go over those thoughts today in as much depth as I can manage. You know, for fun. None of this is to argue about creator intent, but it's a fun way to stretch the critical thinking and literary analysis portions of my brain. It's also super cool if you don't agree with my readings, since the point is to get you thinking about these things and studying them to interpret for yourself.

Anyway let's gooooooo

(note: all images are embedded with a link to the source page I pulled them from. For those on mobile, be careful with your scrolling and tapping!)

Yellow

Okay let's start with the “obvious” one. Yellow is seen as one of the main colors in the game, it's the color of the main office and the primary assets associated with the Parable. We see yellow PRIMARILY in the beginning of the office, before the two doors room. It lines the cubicles and the walls are often interpreted as yellow (eh, they're more of an off-white. They're actually absorbing color from the brown-yellow carpet, and they do the same in the lounge).

It's the color of the Line(TM), it's the color of the cargo lift in the warehouse, and, most strikingly, it's the color of the SKIP Button.

We'll get to you.

Okay, so yellow is a color with conflicting interpretations, which is par for the course for all of them, we're not going TOO insane on color theory and color psychology we will be here ALL DAY and I was an ART student. So let's just look at the most basic reading. Bright, oversaturated yellow is a color that can exhaust the eyes easily. It grabs our attention like a highlighter and burns our retinas.

It can be a color of excitement, but it can also be a color of sickness. I've been thinking about the short story The Yellow Wallpaper the past couple days. Or maybe I've been thinking about it for longer. It's just that I haven't reread it in actual years, but every time I saw someone talk about the wallpaper in TSP, I thought about the story. Here's some passing thoughts on the short story in comparison to TSP. [3]

Sickness, and madness, and beginnings, and infinity. In the end, yellow, to me, is the color of the Parable grabbing the player (and by extension the Narrator) by the nose and saying “let's get moving. We have a story to play. Play the game, and keep playing.” Notable to me is how the SKIP button is almost scathingly yellow in contrast to the room it's in, and as the room gets darker the glow gets more foreboding. The Parable did this. The Narrator might think he made it, but he doesn't control it. Yellow isn't his color, and it never was.

Red

“Stanley walked through the RED. DOOR.”

The use of red in TSP is probably the most interesting and fun to analyze for me. It's used extremely intentionally and it's commonly associated with power, anger, and passion. We see red in the Boss's Office, in the Countdown ending, as the door to the Starry Dome, and a TON in the TSP2 Expo. There's red doors and signs in the Escape Pod Bay.

So I've joked that the color red is the Narrator's color, and while it's still a fun interpretation, it's not one I'm married to. I think it's more accurate to say red symbolizes control. The Zending Door is you letting him control the story. The Countdown screens are him taking control from you. And TSP2 is the Narrator trying to exert control over what the developers have made. It's a response to New Content and to the SKIP button. I have a million trillion thoughts about the TSP2 Expo but I won't get into them here.

Anyway, red feels very obviously to me associated with the Narrator trying to take control, or things only being possible when he has control. I'm thinking about the signs in the Escape Pod Bay telling you that it won't work without him. (I'm thinking about how the same door asset for the Zending is used in the Escape Pod Bay. No. shhh. Staying on topic.) So I don't have much more to say on the matter because I feel like I've tread this ground before. Red is about control, and it is held in direct contrast with blue.

Blue

Oh, blue. Soothing blue, sweet relaxing lounge and ocean paintings and boss's bathroom and blue door that leads to broken textures and an irritable Voice.

If red is the color of control, then blue is the color of rebellion. Small rebellion, sure. Rebellion that means nothing in the scheme of things. Blue is the stepping stone to bigger deviations from the path. I mean, the lounge is only the first step to the right, and you can still get on the “correct” path. The blue door you have to go through repeatedly, you have to make the choice multiple times, for it to lead to the Games ending. The boss's bathroom doesn't GO anywhere until after the epilogue. These are “rebellious choices” in a game where you don't really have a choice, and it's the closest you get to defiance.

I like to make it Stanley's favorite color for obvious reasons.

(Hey, fandom, why you keep associating it with the Curator? The only blue in the Museum is in a couple assets on display.)

Green

I gotta admit, while there's definitely something to green and its use in TSP, a clear meaning for it is eluding me, and I've been thinking about it on and off for a couple days now. It's a fairly infrequent color in TSP as a whole, but it does make an appearance. Besides being the color of plants (such as the ever important fern, the potted plants scattered through the office and the ones in the TSP2 expo, and of course the growth in the SKIP button room), it's also the wallpaper in the Demo, and the same wallpaper is used in the Boss's Office in the Real Person Ending. Thinking further, it also appears in the small room before the stage in the Press Conference Ending, and it's the color of the carpet in the HL2 Office that is found under the Games ending. (It was also brought up by my pal glitch that green is the color of the cursor on Stanley's screen, the first thing you see before gameplay begins. Good catch!)

Thinking about it, it's hard to find a throughline. There's something familiar about the green. Not necessarily safe, but it usually comes before something much bigger. Maybe this is a bit of a stretch, though. Let's say for now green is associated with the familiar in the face of the unfamiliar.

(There's possibly a thesis here about green being associated with gifts and surprises. The Narrator makes the Press Conference ending something that teases but also praises Stanley, the Green Room in the Demo is the space where the Demo is meant to be revealed to you, and that alternate Boss's Office is supposed to, in the Narrator's mind, be the first step to a wonderful story made just for you.)

White

Most people, when they think of white in The Stanley Parable, immediately think of the Museum. And they're right to! It's one of the most prominent environments that uses white. With that in mind, we can't forget the other places it appears, since it's best to keep everything in mind when trying to formulate a meaning for it.

So, other places where white is prominent: We have the out-of-bounds ending, and the Art ending (aka play that Baby game for four hours). We also have a massive part of the TSP2 expo.

Honestly, there is a lot of white in the rest of the office, but it tends to be absorbing the colors of the environment in ways that make it less noticeable. White's really good at that, which means the times where it's by itself as the outstanding color are outliers and feel intentional. So what do these things have in common?

Well, they kind of show the seams of the game? Take this with a grain of salt, but the Museum is designed to show you some of the design process for the game, effectively taking you out of the setting to give you a top-down perspective (hehe, literally in the case of the diorama of the office up to the two doors), and the out-of-bounds ending is a joke about breaking the map, falling out of the world , which can break immersion in other games. The TSP2 Expo is the Narrator showing off all the features for his sequel idea, giving a “sneak peek” of what will be included.

The Art ending doesn't fit with this thesis, but it does involve the... revelation, I suppose, of the “character” of the Essence of Divine Art. What I'm trying to get to is that white is a color of revelation and display.

Gray

Gray is not a color that tends to stand on its own merit in The Stanley Parable, and that in itself is intentional. Gray is used as a texture of “unfinished” things, things the Narrator doesn't want you to look closely at, and would prefer you move past Right Now Right This Second Please.

It's the walls of the Broom Closet, as well as the walls of the maintenance room. It's also the walls of the room right outside the Starry Dome—the hall that leads right to the stairs. (Honorable mention, @chirpbudgie brought up that the desks in the office are gray, which is also an implication of the way Stanley's coworkers seemed to disappear with work unfinished. There is a sense of “wrongness” in how they've all vanished. Nice eye, bud.)

You're not supposed to dwell in these places. Go back to the story, please!

Black

“Blackness, and a rising chill of uncertainty. Was it over?”

Last and least is black, less used as a color in its own right and more a use of shadow. It really stars primarily in the Mind Control Facility, dark rooms with a sense of foreboding. Honestly, what is there to say about black?

Only, I tell a lie. You see quite a lot of black in this game, don't you? After all:

It's the Loading screen.

Blackness is uncertainty, and mystery, like the game tells us, because anything could be hiding in the darkness, and anything could happen when that screen is finished loading. It's white's opposite not just in value but in meaning. You don't know what's going on, you just have to wait and see. Any time you might have an answer, or an ending, here comes that loading screen to wipe the slate clean and say “hey, what haven't you found yet? What haven't you tried? What tricks does this game still have up its sleeve?”

(And now I'm thinking about the Figurines ending, and how the Narrator shouts to stop the loading screen, to go back and stay in the familiar please!! Because the fellow hates uncertainty, really he does. But that's a thesis for another day.)

(We also can't forget that Ultra Deluxe's Setting the Time is also set on a black background, and there's always, to me, a sense of foreboding and uncertainty there too. What happens after this is the game, right? Is this for something? Is this doing anything? Is it changing anything?)

Silver

It's a bucket :)

Okay that's the end of this post. There's probably plenty more to say about this subject, this isn't exhaustive by any means. Color is an incredible tool, and visual storytelling and color interpretation is not in any way a science. As I posted bits of this in my server for extra feedback and examples of color, other folks brought up an entirely different interpretation of the color green. And I didn't even bring up Mariella being dressed in full green!

Anyway I didn't bring up orange because there's only a couple instances of it in the game but its always about unfinished things/assets (Baby game, just a lot of Games ending things) but it also shows up in the TSP2 Expo (Button That Says The Name of the Player Playing The Game (Jim)) for features that uuuuuh. Aren't done. So that's funny.

Like I said, there's almost certainly more to say about color theory and the game, but this thing is hitting 4 pages long and that's not including images oops.

I hope this was a fun read! Some of this stuff has been percolating in my brain for a while and it's good to finally get it on the page. Talk to me about TSP I love this game.

[bansheeoftheforest]

Still refusing to reread PJO/TKC but it is still infesting my brain so woe crossover au be upon yall

Au where Anubis casually gets assigned to be Bianca's and Nico's older brother, anyone?

(messy points below, mostly from Anubis' pov coz he is my pookie, and keep an eye out in the reblogs section for add-ons/updates!)

Like, once the other Egyptian gods start dropping like flies because the magicians are imprisoning them, assuming they may also go after Anubis, he turns to Hades as a very very very last resort because, well, he would like to not be imprisoned for all eternity, thank you very much. Hades agrees on the condition that Anubis looks after his demigods, since he otherwise really isn't to any use of him, which Anubis accepts. So, Anubis is basically the Hades/Pluto demigods' divine babysitter in exchange for some protection from the magicians who may or may not also want to imprison him.

I shall say that this either works bc A) Hades kids radiate enough death so that he can be around them without a host or B) it is all just bureaucracy so when the rest of the Egyptian gods are gone those rules simply do not really apply.

Anyways, once the Big Three ProphecyTM rolls around and Maria Di Angelo kicks the bucket, Anubis is left in charge of making sure the Di Angelo siblings survive, taking them to and staying with them at the Lotus Casino and the different schools that Hades moves them around to, either as their "older brother"/guardian or as their pet dog that the authorities simply don't bat an eye at.

The siblings, with their memories absolutely fucked up, simply accepts that they either have a brother, a dog, an older brother who is occasionally a dog, or a dog that only conveniently shows up when their brother isn't there and vice versa.

And since I haven't read any RR books since I was 12 and I never read the HOO series, I can't really talk much about the logistics from here on out but. I have some thoughts in general.

Anubis makes sure that he takes the majority of the responsibilities, so that Bianca can be a little more happy and a little less stressed than she would have been if she was alone looking after her little brother.

He also happily distracts Nico when Bianca needs a break, he can genuinely listen to Nico ramble about whatever for hours, remembers it quite well and can return the conversation, which Bianca rarely has energy for.

(He was the exact same when he was young and wants to make sure Nico has someone that listens to him)

Genuinely cannot rest until he makes sure the siblings are fine and safe, which becomes a bit of a problem when Bianca goes on her first and last quest, and even more of a problem when he is more stuck in the Brooklyn House and he has to keep contacting Nico before he allows himself or Walt to rest as a result of that.

He is so so so so SO protective of the siblings. He is absolutely ready to die or kill for them. He is not a fighter, more often than not a pacifist, but when it comes to them he is the first to throw hands.

Also him absolutely being ready to kill the demigods that find the siblings at the military school coz he is so used to the "any demigod or magician is here to kill one of us and I have to protect them at all costs" mode that he has been kinda stuck in for the last 70 or so years, minimum.

He is merely an older sibling running on the equivalent of 3 hours of sleep and 2 strong coffees, which really doesn't help the situation once shit starts going down in Brooklyn/the Egyptian pantheon.

Speaking of the Brooklyn House. After being a Divine BabysitterTM for like 2000 years he genuinely cannot get rid of those base instincts, which ends up with him fussing over the Kanes/Walt/Zia and the rest of the initiates because those are CHILDREN and they need to REST and be SAFE and EAT PROPERLY and TAKE YOUR DAMN VITAMINES, WALT.

Because of those 2000 years of babysitting, Anubis is genuinely amazing with kids. You'd think they'd be scared by him, but no. He is the first one they run to when they scraped their knee and need a band aid and a hug.

He also 100% stares right into Percy's and Will's souls the moment he finds out Nico has/had crushes on them. Despite being raised in an entirely different time he definitely is a "no dating until you are at least 25 otherwise I might have a heart attack" sibling and he is not letting some random demigod break his lil brother's heart. He accepts Will well enough though coz he makes Nico laugh which in the end is the most important thing.

Will might actually be more intimidated by Anubis than Hades but that doesn't stop him. Nico is his babygirl and he knows Anubis is (probably) more bark than bite (most of the time).

No matter if Hades allows him to like. stop being a babysitter once the gods are restored and Ma'at is balanced and all, Anubis still sticks around and checks in on Nico (and eventually Hazel). He gets antsy if he hasn't heard from them at least once a day.

He probably has a good base relationship with Jason and Reyna (bc both are protective older siblings when it comes to Nico) but he keeps Percy at a distance ever since Bianca's death (not that he blames him). But he isn't particularly close to any of them, as his priorities lay with Nico, Hazel, and the Brooklyn House.

Assuming Anubis doesn't like. Introduce himself to the greeks as "Anubis" and instead says he is someone else, I have absolutely no idea when or if he would ever tell any of the greek demigods what he truly is. But I suppose Nico would eventually find out that his older brother actually isn't related to him at all, or even from the greek pantheon, and instead only happened to become his older brother as a favour to Hades. Depending on how he finds out he definitely could get upset but I like to believe he sorta figures eventually, and is just happy Anubis genuinely cares for him.

I also like to think that the greek gods they meet when the demigods take the siblings from the school to camp half-blood, just gives Anubis A LookTM. Either they are fully aware he is protecting the Hades kids or they think an Egyptian god is just casually hanging out with some random demigods. Which must certainly be a sight to behold.

Can yall for a moment imagine being the Kane siblings, trying to get the feather of truth from the god of death to avoid the impending apocalypse, who then says "sorry I am mostly on babysitting duty so I can't really help yall more than this, good luck tho."

Walt who meets Nico and is so conflicted because in one way he is slightly weirded out by this tiny depressed gremlin, but in another way the Anubis PartTM of him is just going "protect protect protect protect", which is a weird first impression.

One of the Kane siblings would be interested in Mythomagic, I just know it. Either Sadie coz it is funky or Carter bc it is nerdy. Either way, Nico has at least one Kane to bond with bc of it.

Nico just has the ultimate diplomatic immunity because he can go between Camp Half-blood, Camp Jupiter, and the Brooklyn House basically as he pleases.

On a completely different topic, the majority of Nico's wardrobe is just shit he has stolen from Anubis, he just lets it happen, in part because it is not like he as a god has a limited wardrobe, and in part bc Nico is absolutely adorable when he drowns in Anubis' jackets bc they are too big for him.

Also, Anubis helping Nico train his death magic, and teaching him the easiest ways to build endurance while using it.

Frankly the thought of the rest of the gods being banished, imprisoned, in exile or attempting to free themselves while Anubis is playing babysitter is very funny to me in general. Imagine being Isis or Osiris and attempting to ask your nephew/son what he did during the 2000 years yall were imprisoned and he goes "I took a side job as a babysitter to pay the bills".

Honestly I might reblog this with more thoughts eventually. They are all just so pookie.

[wickerfemme]

1. Current read, or last thing you read?

2. Most outgrown article of clothing you still wear?

3. A fun activity you're looking forward to doing soon?

1: I'm in a big "rereading" phase right now, because I'm trying to carve out more time for reading but also my anxiety etc. have been through the roof lately and making it hard to tackle new stuff (even though I'd like to move on!). Last fiction I read was Christopher Priest's The Prestige.

2. Probably this tanktop:

(which, to be honest, I haven't put on since probably last May, so who knows if I can still count it as something I "still wear". We're fast approaching that "what of last year's summer wardobe still fits me" season)

3. I don't know if this really counts as fun, but I have an appointment for a long-overdue haircut next weekend that I'm very excited for.