#i am not against she/her-ing characters.

[vitrines]

i have such severe beef with the "all these male characters are women actually so it's #feminism and yuri" crowd because like. why are you making them women. what is it about these characters that makes you see them as women, as opposed to actual female characters. do you headcanon female characters as trans men? do you headcanon female characters as trans women? are you headcanoning these male characters as trans women, or are you just she/her-ing them?

if you have to make jokes about how male-centric your series is and you spend more time doing that than you do thinking critically about why that is, keep the word yuri out of your mouth. keep the term "final girl" out of your mouth. go find some female characters. go find some transfem characters. i promise you the representation is out there. there are a million webcomics and novels.

[sateurn]

😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

These sobs really limited my tags?????

I have so many more thoughts this is so so much less than 1/2. Broski. Big dislike

[peachetteprice]

Stern Captain John Price...

...Who is a total dog guy through-and-through but eventually succumbs to your cat's pretty face. It isn't an evening with him in your apartment without him muttering, whilst he's cooking;

"What?"

"Hey!"

"What's the matter, lovie?"

"What is it, darlin'?"

"Dearie me, you're very vocal today, ain't ya?"

Every time she meows for attention. In a voice so tender that you know he's never used on you. He relentlessly volunteers to feed the poor thing and asks if she can have more biscuits, despite your warnings that the vet advised not to over-feed her (because she's the most determined scavenger you know - you'd think she was a character on Lost with how desperately she screeches for any morsel of food in her immediate vicinity), but he still frowns, waits five minutes, then sneaks her a handful of biscuits - from his palm, which she gladly takes, because again, Lost, as well as him knowing that you'll hear it if they clatter into the dish - all the while, during which, he ensures via a dozen glances over his shoulder that you aren't about to chastise him for it.

Sweet John thinks you haven't noticed the extra chunkiness around her primordial pouch, but you have - you're just too kind to say anything about it (and you secretly adore the way his eyebrows raise whenever you announce that it's feeding time).

Do not be deceived that he won't still insist that he's a dog person.

Because he will.

Every damn time he comes around will he see your cat, fold his arms and say "you know, I'm more of a dog person, I am", only to rush to the couch and wait patiently - never staring, never moving a muscle because he initially assumes all cats are jittery, distrustful creatures worthy of the attention of a God, not a mere mortal such as himself (and he's not wrong with half of that drivel) - until she clambours on his lap and curls into a shrimp.

He gasps the first time it happens and exclaims;

"Love!" And tilts his head to her like she's a statue that he needs a secondary opinion to be given of whether it's moved before he checks (it has not).

Unfortunately, with all of the sweet things he does, he also actively asks if there's any housework to be done whilst he's over. Oh, because he wants to do it like the gentleman he is, considering you routinely give up your bed, body, and fridge for him? No. Silly! He wants to make sure you're running around like a headless chicken so that he can have a few more minutes of your cat sleeping in his lap, because as soon as your arse hits the cushions, she chirps up and crawls over to yours, instead.

He's a little bit confused when it comes to cats. He often watches her sleep, palms his beard, gives her a point - the same one he gives when he tells his boys off - and asks, most sincerely;

"Is she comfy like that, love? Won't her head ache after a while?"

But, oh, John, she's loafing! It's her natural state.

It takes him a long while to adjust to the various positions in which she clumps, the variable number of nicknames you give her on the daily, and the variety of noises your lips make as you call her to you, but John's a fast learner. Soon enough, she'd rather saunter his way and arch herself along his shin with a saccharine meow than respond to the fact that she needs flea-ing, even if you need her here, now.

Otherwise, she'll dirty the place up, and John'll complain about having an itchy beard again!

And we can't have that happen, because he spent all of ten minutes combing his beard - the same one she nuzzled her chin up against a few days prior - whilst you were undressed in bed, sighing, somewhat cold, waiting until he'd checked it thoroughly before he gave himself the all clear to eat you out until you came.

And the very next morning, what did he do?

He opened the bedroom door - only wearing his boxers - and carted her in to wake you up, yowling and purring. And, though you love her, and you wish nothing but happiness for her, it was something of a rude awakening when you'd rather be fast asleep, repenting for the hours of sleep you'd lost from being fucked within an inch of your life. It's something he catches onto, thank God, as he scoops her up by the belly - shit, he's getting really good at that - and tosses her out of the room, before sinking into the sheets once more to pepper kisses along your bare skin until, finally, begrudgingly, you wake up and he can play with her again!

(Oh, but he'll never admit he actually likes the thing. No. Never. Any emotion resembling that of pleasure is purely on behalf of you. It's what he thinks you'd like... and, with that being said...)

God forbid you make the mistake of mentioning wanting another cat because as soon as you do, he'll slam his phone on the counter, give you a positively wide-eyed stare - almost like a kid on Christmas - and insist that you should. Well, only because your cat needs a friend whilst you're both gone (despite the fact that she's four years old already...)

And, of course, with that territory comes a dozen screenshots of cats for adoption from Pets4Homes, Pre-loved and various animal trust websites that he think will be a perfect fit for your cat - when he really should be finalising paperwork - complete with a bemoaning message of:

Not trying to sway you in any direction, gorgeous.

Except he is.

Oh, and... what's that? Oh, yeah. It fucking works.

Because barely three months after he made his mark in your flat, are you placing a carrier containing a little tortoiseshell kitten (his favourite listing that he sent on the daily, and practically wa-hey-ed with delight during a very very serious briefing with Laswell at the prospect of being home that night to meet the kiddo) before the closed carrier of your cat, and - almost as if it was fate, played by the hand of God himself (John, that is) - they're more than happy to co-habit, and John's soon finding ways to sneak them both shreds of leftover roast chicken every Sunday.

The cheeky sod.

| Masterlist |

[weemssapphic]

Good evening, my internet-lawfully wedded wife. I would like to request that Hanahaki Phasma story please? 🥺🥺🥺

Hello 💖 Thanks for the request, lovely 🥺 I finally had an idea for how to write this and I am very happy with how it turned out - and nervous as I've never written for Phasma before. I hope you like it, regardless of the angst 🥺 Thank you to @dianneking for beta-ing and helping me with the title, it means a lot 🫶🏼

Forget-me-not

Captain Phasma x f!reader

Summary: Of all the people you could’ve fallen in love with, it had to be Captain Phasma. Could your love for her be your death sentence?

Words: ~3.1k | ao3 link in title

Content/warnings: Hanahaki disease trope, angst, no happy ending, mentions of blood + death, character death, briefly nsfw (light smut - minors DNI)

Icy blue eyes stare deeply into your own, pale pink lips are curled up into a devilish, seductive smirk. Phasma’s face is flushed and her pupils are dilated as she watches you come undone above her, bucking your hips against her and coating her abdomen in your arousal as you chase your high.

You’ve had sex with Phasma a handful of times now, which is strange in and of itself. You’ve heard plenty of stories about her since starting with the First Order – stories of one-night stands, lovers being used, abused, and discarded – threatened into silence, fired, even disappearing.

It would be dangerous to assume that you’re special – that you somehow mean more to Phasma than the other women she’s slept with. No one means anything to Phasma, that is one thing she has made abundantly clear. Phasma is the only person who means anything to Phasma. Everyone else is disposable, a means to an end – in this case, the end being her own sexual pleasure.

But then why has she let you into her bed time and time again? At first, she was demanding and dominating, relentless; taking, taking, taking. You cried during your first time with her – you were so overstimulated, yet she wouldn’t let up, and she punished you any time you tried to touch her. After that, you feared you’d be discarded like the rest – but then it happened again. And again. And then, one night, Phasma even allowed you to touch her. Watching the Captain Phasma reach the height of her pleasure on your fingers was something akin to a religious experience – you were ready to worship the woman, to give your soul over to her after hearing her moan and feeling her body shudder against your own. She’d taken her helmet off for the first time that night as well – you were immediately struck by her beauty. The planes of her face had a softness to them that had thrown you off-guard, her eyes – blue, oh so blue, oceans you could drown in – felt hypnotizing as they pierced your own. She’d been reluctant at first, but somehow – somehow – you’d managed to convince her – it must get quite hot and uncomfortable under that helmet after all. After the threat of torture methods that you hadn’t even heard of, ensuring you would never so much as think of telling a soul about seeing the great Captain without her helmet, she’d revealed her face to you.

And now, looking down at that charismatic, captivating smirk through the lustful haze of your fourth orgasm, you know you’ve gone and made the most fatal error you could possibly make.

You’ve fallen in love with Captain Phasma.

~~~

And what a fatal error, indeed.

After your latest rendezvous in Phasma’s quarters, you see her next at training the following morning. The bright fluorescent lights bounce off the chrome of her armor, flawlessly polished – though your mind is rather stuck on what lies underneath. Silken blonde locks, slicked back to emphasize her cheekbones, the curve of her jaw. Long, muscular arms and large, slender hands; rock-hard abs and legs that seem to go on for miles, with thick thighs that you can’t help but picture wrapping around your head. After seeing the fearsome Captain outside of her armor, you fear you can never unsee it – and you’ll always be left wanting, yearning for more.

Perhaps there would be a way to convince her that you’re worth more than a quick fuck – you can’t stop thinking about those strong arms wrapping around your waist in your post-coital haze, fingertips tenderly caressing your bare flesh as soft lips press chaste kisses all over your face. You would look into her eyes – which would fill with affection – and tell her you love her, and she would say it back with a smile on her face.

Cough.

You’re caught by surprise at the sound that bubbles forth from your chest, tickling your throat.

“FN-196, is something the matter?”

Phasma’s voice is cool and collected – dangerous. You shouldn’t have made a peep – but you can’t help it. Another cough tickles the back of your throat and forces its way out – you try to stifle it but that just makes the coughing fit worse.

“N-no-“ cough “I’m sorry-” cough “It w-wo-“ cough “It won’t happen again, Captain.”

You clear your throat awkwardly and straighten your back as Phasma stalks towards you, stopping right in front of you. She’s inches away from your face, though she’s tall enough that you’d have to crane your head back just a bit to look up at her. You don’t – you think she might kill you if you do, so you look straight ahead at your reflection in her armor.

She looks down at you for a moment, her head tilted ever so slightly – you wish you knew what she was thinking. Does she really hold any shred of affection for you, does she favor you at all? Or is she plotting the quickest way to dispose of you?

“One more sound and I’ll have you scrubbing TIE fighters all weekend.”

Merciful.

You nod curtly. “Yes, Captain.” You don’t dare say anything else.

~~~

After your little coughing fit, you briefly worry that you’ve caught a cold. You seem to be in the clear, however – you don’t cough again after that, not for a few days.

But then it happens again, as you’re walking past Phasma in the corridor. One moment you’re fine, the next you look up and see her walking towards you. You come to a halt and step aside to allow her to pass, a sign of respect. She affords you the smallest of nods – an acknowledgement that makes you swoon – and that’s when it happens. You cough, more violently this time, as though your lungs have run out of air and are shriveling up as a result.

Phasma stops in her tracks and turns towards you, staring. Waiting for the coughing to stop. It does, eventually, and you feel your cheeks burn. You know she can’t see it underneath your helmet, but you’re certain she can sense your embarrassment in the way your shoulders droop and your hands begin to fidget as you stutter out an apology.

“Are you ill?”

“N-no, Captain, I don’t think so.” You shuffle from foot to foot – you can feel another coughing fit coming on, and you really don’t want Phasma to be around for that. “Just a tickle, must’ve breathed in some dust.” Right. Through your helmet. As if Phasma would believe that.

She hums, giving you a once over. You squirm.

“Good.”

She turns and starts to walk away. “Come to my quarters tomorrow night.”

Your heart flutters as you watch her round the corner, disappearing from view.

Cough.

~~~

“Mmh, oh- f-fuck,” you mewl, as Phasma’s hips slam into yours at a brutal pace, her dildo disappearing inside of you as she thrusts the entire length into your cunt. A bead of sweat collects at her temple, rolling slowly down her flushed cheek. Her hair sticks to her forehead, falling into her eyes – hungry eyes that devour you as she ravishes you. Her lips are parted to let out quiet grunts, her abs ripple with exertion and her biceps flex as she holds herself above you.

Your eyes roll back in your head as the dildo reaches deep inside of you – your breath quickens and you feel a guttural moan tear from your throat as your orgasm hits you, your walls clenching around Phasma’s cock. She’s relentless – she doesn’t let up, fucking you through your orgasm and even after, as you sink into the mattress and try desperately to regulate your breathing.

Phasma reaches her own peak and tumbles over it, and it’s a glorious sight. Her jaw goes slack and her eyelids fall shut, a broken moan slips past her lips. Her entire body trembles a bit and her hips stutter in their movements. The fact that she can get off by watching you cum is incredibly arousing to you, and it makes you feel special.

She removes the harness and the dildo and tosses it on the floor beside the bed, before lying down next to you – not to cuddle, no, never to cuddle – just to rest for a moment and recover from her orgasm. You turn your head to glance over at her. Her eyes are shut, allowing you to admire her openly. She’s breathing heavily, her cheeks are red, her forehead is sweaty. She looks heavenly, divine even.

You wish she would let you wrap your arms around her waist and pull her close. You wish she would let you feel her lips against your own. You wish she would let you card your fingers through her hair and caress her jaw and tell her how much you love her, and you wish she would say it back. You wish-

Cough.

Oh no. Not again.

Phasma’s eyes shoot open and she looks over at you, raising an eyebrow. You avoid her gaze as your lungs constrict and you cough again, and again. Something tickles your throat – it’s as if something is stuck there. You cough harder – it has to come out. Covering your mouth, you cough again, and feel something soft hit your palm.

A small, blue flower petal. Your eyes widen in horror as you stare at the petal in your hand.

No. No, no, no, no. It can’t be. It can’t-

“What is that?” Phasma asks. Her brows are knit together and she cranes her neck to try and get a look.

“N-nothing” cough “it’s nothing.”

But Phasma isn’t one for playing games. Long, slender fingers curl around your wrist, vice-like in their strength – a snake devouring its prey, and she forces you to show her what you’ve coughed up.

Her upper lip twitches.

A billion micro-expressions cross her face, too quickly for you to place any one of them. When she looks you in the eyes a moment later, her face is devoid of any expression at all.

“It’s time you leave. Don’t be late for training tomorrow.”

You don’t need to be told twice – the hard edge to her voice scares you, so you clamber out of her bed and dress as quickly and as quietly as you can, your cheeks burning as you feel Phasma watching your every move. You hurry to leave, leaving the flower petal nestled among the sheets.

Phasma stares at it as you leave. She knows what it means. She’s no fool – she’s seen the way you look at her, how eager you are to please her – both in work and in sex.

An intense, burning rage fills Phasma - her insides suddenly feel like molten lava, her heart pounds viciously. If you die, Phasma will lose one of her best stormtroopers - and one of her best lovers. And you will die, if it's Phasma you’re in love with.

It’s not that she doesn’t want to love you back. There’s a reason she’s let you warm her bed for so long, after all. You’re skilled with your tongue, certainly, and you look so enticing when you’re being fucked into oblivion. But there’s something else – something Phasma doesn’t quite understand, something she’s never felt before. It’s not love, at least she doesn’t think it is – it’s nothing like how other people describe love, a feeling that Phasma doesn’t ever recall feeling.

But it’s something, and it’s been so long since Phasma has felt anything. Around you, in those brief moments after sex just before she kicks you out of her bed, she feels just a little lighter. Her usual anger is subdued, a dying ember where there’s usually a roaring flame.

It’s not enough, though. She knows this. She knows you know this – you must know this.

You’re a fool – a damned fool – Phasma thinks. Only an idiot would fall in love with her.

~~~

As is to be expected, your illness gets worse. You begin to disrupt training with your coughing – Phasma finds this annoying as is, but what she finds even more annoying is the unfamiliar sense of guilt that gnaws at her stomach, knowing she’s the cause of your… distress.

She dismisses you from training – the others will get suspicious, and your performance is lacking anyway. It’s best if you stay in your quarters.

She goes to check on you one day, in the middle of the night. Briefly, she wonders if she should have come at a more reasonable hour, but then she hears the coughing through your door and she knows you haven’t been able to fall asleep yet anyway.

You answer the door, your eyes bleary and your face pale. There’s blood trickling down your chin and a few small, crushed flower petals cling to the sweaty fabric of your nightgown. And yet, you smile at her. She tilts her head – why are you smiling? You’re a fool – a damned fool.

“It’s progressed then?” she asks. The modulator in her helmet keeps her voice level, and for that she is grateful.

Your eyes fill with sadness but your smile – soft, gentle – never wavers. You nod and open your mouth to speak, but you’re interrupted by another coughing fit, and bloody flower petals spill out of your mouth and onto Phasma’s boots.

Phasma looks down at the stained chrome, then back up at you.

“I-I’m” cough “sorry” wheeze “I-I’ll c-clean it-“

“Leave it.”

Your eyes widen and your cheeks redden, but you don’t dare argue.

Phasma turns her head to the right, then to the left. The corridor is empty. She takes a step towards you, into your quarters, until she’s nearly flush against you. Lifting her hands to her head, she removes her helmet, and cool blue eyes pierce your own. Your smile is back now, and she doesn’t understand – in fact, it makes her a little uncomfortable. A smile like that has rarely been directed at her (even if there is blood dribbling down your chin and your eyes are slightly unfocused) – it takes all her willpower to maintain eye contact.

“You shouldn’t have fallen in love with me.” Her tone is lacking noticeably in bite, though neither of you acknowledge this fact.

“I know.”

Cough.

“You’ll die.”

“I know.”

Wheeze.

Phasma’s lip twitches and her eyes dart between your own. Your smile is steady and true, even as your eyes fill with tears.

Phasma knows what she should say – what anyone else in her position would say. ‘I’m sorry’. Except she can’t say it, because she isn’t. Is she? She’s unsure – she’s never actually felt sorry for anything, not even for betraying her own family. Why should some random woman, a subordinate of hers at that, change that?

She remains silent. She nods curtly. You stifle another cough as you nod back, blinking slowly – it appears as though, somehow, you understand. As though you know that Phasma even bothering to show up in your quarters at all before your body leaves this galaxy is nothing short of a goddamn miracle.

“You d-don’t h-have” cough “to love me b-back. Just d-don’t” cough “for-forget me.”

You chuckle. Phasma doesn’t think it’s funny. She blinks, puts her helmet back on.

“Goodnight, FN-196.”

She doesn’t spare you another glance as she leaves.

~~~

Early one morning, Phasma is called to your quarters – as your superior, if something has happened, she needs to be informed.

And Phasma immediately knows what’s happened. Underneath her helmet, her eyes scan your body – limp, pale, covered in blood and flower petals. Even worse off than the last time she saw you. Usually, such a gory sight stirs up a sort of crazed bloodlust deep within Phasma’s soul, a gleeful sort of giddiness. Only now, when it’s you covered in blood and sweat, unmoving, she feels no such thing.

Her lips curl into a frown – wrong way, wrong way, she should be smiling! She shouldn’t be upset!

Sometimes, when one is confronted with death, they regret. They think of all the things they wished they’d said, they wish for one more moment with the person they care for.

Phasma doesn’t regret. She knows she couldn’t have told you how she feels about you anyway. How does she feel about you? Perhaps, she could have told you that when she’s with you, she feels for the first time. But would that have been enough to save you? No, probably not. And perhaps it’s better this way. It would have gotten messy – Phasma doesn’t mix work and relationships (only casual sex, only ever casual sex, only with people who are disposable). She’s not even sure she was built for a relationship – in fact, she’s certain she wasn’t.

So, no, Phasma doesn’t wish for one more moment with you in which she would profess her undying love (is she capable of such a thing?) and see the bright smile on your face when you realize your affection is returned. But her heart does ache a little – just a little twinge, really, in a very foreign sort of way – and, when she thinks of never feeling your silken skin under her fingertips again, her stomach twists.

The stormtrooper tilts his head. “What should I do with her, Captain?”

Phasma’s gaze never leaves your body, even as she’s addressed directly. What should one do with you? The thought of doing anything at all makes her heart clench.

But she can’t show weakness.

She can’t.

She swallows thickly. Discreetly.

Blinks twice.

Then her face hardens. The stormtrooper can’t see it underneath her helmet anyway, but it’s part of her mask. She has to play the part if she’s going to keep the respect of her troops. Self-preservation has always been vital to her, after all.

“Take her away.”

The stormtrooper shrugs and slings your body over his shoulder, before carrying you out of the room – carelessly, like a doll. Phasma grits her teeth – you should be treated like a precious thing, carried bridal style and showered with kiss- no. What is she thinking? You’re nothing but a corpse now, it hardly matters how your body is treated. Except, for some reason, it matters a lot to Phasma, though she cannot let on to that.

She waits.

She waits until the door closes and the footsteps of the stormtrooper’s boots against the cold metal floor fade.

Her gaze falls to the floor where, amongst a few droplets of blood, a single, tiny, blue forget-me-not petal rests.

A single tear drips down her cheek, catching on the inside of her helmet.

x

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Join my taglist here!

[iiapple]

do you hate knife as a character or what the fandom/his relationship with suitcase has turned into /genq

both

theres aspects to him i enjoy though usually its paired with another character's interactions with the general juvenile violence in season 1 - early season 2. knife and trophy's whole deal is so ridiculously stupid its laughable but in an enjoyable way where im kinda entertained. it can make for a lot of funny interactions that are just jabs at one another (and trophy getting the short end of the dick which is always funny). he and pickle are fun too even without the romancey shippinf component, they can be at a base just stupid gay bros that chill. while he was caught up in mic's business and did lend a hand in her arc, i do prefer how it is now where again, its just slight jabs and non melodramatic fun (add in soap to grill his ass, soapmic knickle video game sesh and soap is crushing everyone at it like hell)

however its the push of him needing to be this "philosophical deep guy who analyzes everyone correctly and its soooooo interesting how much hes changed" that really irks me. because i honestly dont buy it and just see a man who self pities under the guise of "learning and growing i help others now because ive changed". hes like balloon to me in that sense except hes able to keep it composed and together without becoming outwardly desperate. its honestly irritating how much of an involvement he has now and again, how much of a push there is to him being in the top 2 after "all his growth". i just dont give a fuck. why should i give a fuck about a man who burnt and harassed and bullied and tortured a woman in season 1 for fun, and had others try to join in on it too? and the GALL of him to even apologize to marshmallow for it too LOOOOOL... "ohhhh poor me im sorry marshmallow for hurting you before" pussy couldnt even state what he did to her, weak ass self fellating apology im SO glad marsh didnt accept it and was NOT kind about it in front of him. she shouldve start throwing rocks at him. all this "change and teaching" i will never forgive that man for what he did to women

not to mention, how practically of little to no help he was towards suitcase who, was dealing with bigger issues than he was as if hes fuckin get it. such bullshit advice and "lessons" hed tell her when its like dude, shut the hell up!!! youre saying the dumbest shit and still pinning it all against her somehow when shes been tossed around her supposed alliance because those 3 idiots couldnt get shit together for once. that AND her psychosis coming onto the foreground of it all of course shes not gonna talk about it further because you keep pushing in shit that she has no fault in, as if shedve trust you with that. its sweet that theyre working now against everything now but god lol, i just dont buy their newfound ammends and friendship of sort personally

what the fandom has done is REALLY hyopcritical. now im not gonna say its every single person who does this, nor am i a fan of monolith-ing (?) a group of people because of a common pattern, but its just really REALLY funny seeing people going after pairings like lairy or whatever saying its "proship" while shipping a man who has a history of violence on women with a psychotic woman who he has offered piss poor assistance to in the name of his own weird beliefs of changing and helping. idgaf for discourse around a bunch of pixels over trivial shit that really isnt THAT big of an issue (lairy discourse), especially because well, theyre wrong as fuck, but how are people gonna say one thing then turn around and do The Same Shit under another flavour. knifecase is such a kick in the balls to women and another example of how fandom greatly prefers men over women WHATEVER the situation is. theyll fawn over a man whos done shit and think "yeah hes my poor onglydoople poop. only HE suffers in this work of media" while greatly ignoring the issues the women in the same piece of work deal with by writing (misogyny) and circumstances (misogyny again). this world is founded immensely on misogyny and we're never getting the fuck out of it and while yeah im ranting about object character violence being sexist/misogynistic, you gotta get that its all a repeated pattern of these behaviours these mentalities this culture. you can argue one thing about writers intentions and beliefs, we dont know these people well enough to point fingers and label. however, how are YOU digesting it? shitting it out? what is your overall take and without using gay fandom buzzwords and misogynist thinking describe the women in the show (rhetorical)

[bestworstcase]

@tumblingxelian from here

As the person who started the "Give that girl a cult" tag, I kind of disagree. RWBY Beyond already made it clear Ruby has a lot of people focused on her in a Great Uniter sense. Add in how many issues she's been having and judging by the movie continues to have with playing the role needed of her. & that there's a nationalistic/fascist movement being aided by the villains & I feel like Ruby being admired not playing into it makes zero sense. The memes of Jax just screaming in frustration cos Ruby is much, much, much closer to the icon he only pretends to be are just memes and not realistic expectations for the volumes story. I should also clarify, cult was just picked cos "Fan club" doesn't have the same connotations.

mm to clarify where i’m coming from, my main point of disagreement with the "ruby gets a [celebrity] cult" angle is with Where and How it will have narrative impact (i think ruby’s celebrity will be more of a personal stumbling block for her tied into the summer rose mystery and an issue that exacerbates the nascent civil war, not smth she can take advantage of in the political conflict vs the crown) and how prominent it’ll be in terms of the amount of specific focus put on people adoring her.

but the main bone i have to pick is with specifically the "ruby is literally going to be deified / silver-eyed ascended savior / tea as communion wine" type stuff (like this other anon) where "cult" is being used explicitly to mean religious veneration. THIS variant makes me want to bite people 

but anyway, to your actual points: i get that the jax meme-ing is largely exaggerated joking around, but at the same time the main thrust of all the real speculation in this vein is that ruby’s celebrity functions to set up a personal conflict between herself and the asturias twins and strengthens her coalition’s hand against the crown because she’s admired, an inspiration to the people, etc. 

in the same way that "salem’s gonna show up a year late with starbucks to explain her ninety step plan for beating the gods" is an unserious joke that follows from things i do seriously believe, that salem’s ultimate goal is to get rid of the brothers and the heroic side will hear her side of the story as probably the last major narrative turning point… no one is joking about jax going "NOOOO!!" while he bleeds supporters to ruby’s accidental cult of personality because they don’t think her celebrity is going to play a meaningful part in defeating the crown, yeah?

i’m also using the memetic joke phrasing in the prev post mainly because i didn’t want to just repeat stuff i’d already said in the one right before, but—well, okay:

1 - the crown isn’t a vanity project. jax is arrogant, but he does also fundamentally believe that he’s doing what is best for his nation; it’s an ideological project. and the ideology is more or less, "vacuo was broken and exploited by foreign invaders long ago. outsiders and those who aren’t willing to fight to the death for vacuo make this nation weak; to become strong again, loyal vacuans must band together to get rid of these people and fight for ourselves and our way of life." when jax imagines the "old ways," he envisions himself as the kind of king who holds himself equal to all his people ("he wasn’t going to hold himself above them")—he’s tying himself in a mental knot here to hold this belief while also putting half his forces under mind control, obviously, but the cognitive dissonance here is buried very deep. 

2 - the MAINSTREAM, NORMATIVE city vacuan cultural view—expressed by many different vacuan characters, including sun—is "we lost our identity and our way of life because people were too soft and content; we let the other kingdoms come here and take what they wanted, and then they left us with nothing but sand, heat, and bitter memories. but hardship and fending for ourselves for so long has made us strong, so we don’t need anyone telling us what to do!" <- i am condensing but much of this is lifted verbatim from the speech sun makes to rally eleventh hour support against the crown. in that speech, he rhetorically equates the twins to the "other kingdoms" who, like the crown, "promised prosperity and paradise."

3 - now. i don’t believe rwby is going to play straight this idea that vacuans were to blame for the conquest of vacuo, because a) the nomadic vacuans in after the fall hold very different cultural attitudes, b) in the 9.11 animatic oscar explicitly refers to all this as a "history of colonization," and c) rwby doesn’t blame faunus for being persecuted or the people of mantle for being repressed, why would vacuo be different?—these are cultural views that i expect to be challenged in v10.

4 - notice how similar these normative/mainstream views are to the crown’s ideology! the crown is more extreme, more violent, but it’s really not that far off from stuff the good-guy vacuans say. before the 9.11 animatic, this was the whole basis for my thinking that the crown would be the arc antagonists in v10—at the end of the book, the defenders turn the tide by flipping the nationalist rhetoric around; ideological victory to the crown. dump tens of thousands of refugees from another kingdom into this situation, and what happens? popular support for the crown explodes. 

5 - BTE is a villain origin story. it’s just the prelude that sets the stage for this explosion of popular support; the main event is in v10, and i think this time the crown is going to be much stronger. in the book, it’s a fringe movement extremists and a roughly equal number of unwilling "recruits" under jax’s thrall, but almost every city vacuan character we meet expresses hostility toward "outsiders" and "traitors" and a lot—not all, but a lot—of what the crown believes is normalized to some extent; a really significant number of vacuans were just one refugee crisis away from breaking for the crown. vacuo has had two refugee crises in swift succession and there’s atlesian and mistrali warships allied with the faction that welcomed the refugees flying over vacuo now.

6 - it doesn’t matter that those foreign ships are there to defend vacuo too; vacuan nationalism is grounded in centuries of colonial occupation and the optics are really, really bad for the coalition. here is what jax is going to be screaming from the rooftops: "half or more of vacuo’s population is outsiders now, people from atlas and vale who never lifted a finger to help us but expect us to sacrifice everything to save them—give up our food and water when we scarcely have enough to sustain ourselves, give up our homes, spill our blood and defend them with their lives. they’re weak, pathetic cowards who came running to hide behind us instead of fighting for their kingdom, and they expect us to believe they’ll fight for us when the time comes? no, they’re just here to do what the other kingdoms have always done to us—they’re the real threat. are we really going to sit by and let these foreign invaders take our country from us again?"—and a lot of vacuans are gonna buy that bullshit.

7 - not least because a lot of it is… kind of true. vacuo has a very long, very real history of suffering at the hands of these other kingdoms whose people it is now being asked to make very real sacrifices for. both CFVY novels emphasize that food and water are already scarce before the kingdom doubles in size and vacuo is weathering onslaught after onslaught of grimm because of the refugees. it’s a really tough situation, and for someone like jax it is a massive political windfall because it’s so easy to twist that reality into a justification for hatred and violence.

SO,

here’s what really stands out to me about the 9.11 animatic and ruby’s celebrity in B4:

nora’s section: establishes that the vacuans are really angry, like "throwing junk at small orphaned children in a screaming rage" angry

oscar’s: the shade coalition is holding on by its fingernails against grimm drawn to the city in droves.

ren’s: the asturias twins get broken out of prison, and he reflects that salem has the advantage because it’s easier to exploit fear and anger than to overcome them. 

winter’s: popular support for the crown is booming ("atlas go home" and "long live the crown" grafitti)… and then the second refugee crisis arrives, provoking what is quite likely another days-long unrelenting assault of the city by grimm. also, when the shade coalition isn’t running itself into the ground fighting grimm, they’re distributing food and water to refugees. (=the crown’s talking point here is "see? they only care about helping THEM, not US")

qrow’s: he feels optimistic because he sees the refugees coming together, trying to support each other through this crisis and atone for past wrongs. the old divide between atlas and mantle is healing. every single character in this section is a refugee, and the "remember her message!" mural seems to be something the happy huntresses organized. 

"it was a relief for us," says nora of reaching vacuo, "but for the vacuans…"

and boba: yang takes ruby to specifically a boba shop that relocated from patch to vacuo after vale was evacuated; so this is likely a neighborhood where a lot of valean refugees settled and that means the vacuans who live here are going to mostly be the type of people who were willing to open their community and absorb that second wave of refugees, i.e. the shade coalition’s support base, people like the nomadic vacuans in ATF who would never be swayed by jax’s rhetoric at all because they weren’t already xenophobic… which BTE implies pretty strongly is a minority position within vacuo proper.

B4 is a character-driven piece focused on ruby’s personal struggle, and the beyond spots are all pretty light, pretty hopeful, and pretty opaque about the situation in vacuo for reasons of being optional side content.

the 9.11 animatic, on the other hand, was meant to be an episode of the show proper, so it does not hold back on the foreshadowing / setup at all: from nora to ren to winter there’s a pattern of escalation with vacuan support for the crown gaining ground, getting louder and bolder, and then qrow’s optimistic conclusion is focused very tightly on the refugees, with an acknowledgment that things are "bad, probably never been worse" beyond the small good he chooses to focus on… which conspicuously does not include any vacuans participating in these small acts of kindness or atonement: it’s klein and willow and the happy huntresses looking out for other refugees.

here’s what i think is going to happen with ruby’s celebrity in v10: the refugees from atlas and mantle will adore her—she’s the girl who rallied the whole world to come help them, and got them out alive when salem attacked and their general lost his mind. the refugees from vale will love her—she’s theirs, after all, born and raised in vale, and look at what she’s started. the minority of vacuans who threw open their doors to welcome the refugees will think the world of her—if atlas hadn’t fallen so quickly, these are the people who would have done whatever they could to send help, and her example is an inspiration. 

and the rest of vacuo is going to fucking hate her. she’s the girl who asked the whole world to come running to help atlas and then the very next day dumped atlas and its problems into vacuo’s lap. is it fair to pin the blame for everything on ruby? fuck no, but she’s the face of this crisis for better and worse.

she’s not a threat to jax; he literally could not ASK for a more perfect scapegoat. she’s the girl from beacon who abandoned her school instead of fighting to save it. (<- explicitly how the crown and basically the entire shade student body views the beacon survivors.) she’s the girl who begged the world to come help atlas and then not even a full day later ran away AGAIN, dumping atlas on vacuo. she’s the reason the sky is crawling with atlesian and mistrali warships. she’s the reason grimm attacked the city every few days for months on end. the satellite she used to send her message is a fuckoff huge battleship looming over vacuo now. she keeps asking vacuans to set aside their differences and work together with the tens of thousands of refugees burdening the kingdom, and all of those refugees think she’s the best thing since sliced bread…

i think ruby will be a polarizing figure—possibly divisive enough that her return might be the final straw that rips the kingdom in half. ’cause like. the people with the most reason to admire her are also the ones the villainous nationalist group despises and wants to get rid of, and the 9.11 animatic flags hard that the crown’s support among vacuans has skyrocketed since the refugee crisis began. they’re not a fringe group anymore.

so on the one hand, the pressure put on ruby is going to be orders of magnitude more intense than ever before because she’s a celebrity beloved by the coalition’s supporters, most of whom are refugees, and between that and finding out vale is just gone now right after getting back, to judge by her characterization in rwby x jl2, ruby is NOT going to be coping well in the wake of her resolution to be all summer was and more. 

and on the other hand, to the crown’s supporters, who could very well now be the majority of vacuans living in the city proper, she’s the perfect scapegoat and they’re going to utterly despise her, inflaming the existing divide and maybe splitting what fence-sitters still remain at this point one way or another. ruby is both the girl who united the world and the girl who tore vacuo apart—rwby does love its contradictions!—which is a) not going to help her mental health situation at all, and b) a problem she and the rest of the shade coalition can only solve by winning the ideological argument. 

to put vacuo back together again they need to beat the idea that "outsiders" make vacuo weak and therefore to be strong vacuo has to drive out everyone deemed un-vacuan. more to the point, they’ll need to overcome the feeling that vacuo is suffering because the rest of the world came together for the refugees. which… is difficult and unfair, because the crown are the ones refusing to play ball and making everything harder than it needs to be, and because if the crown goes into open revolt then the coalition is going to have to fight back and that will make it even harder to make a convincing case that the coalition really does want to be fighting for vacuo, for all vacuans, not against them. it SEEMS impossible. but saving everyone in atlas and mantle seemed impossible, too. 

also, waves vaguely, i expect the vacuo arc will mirror atlas in various ways and this is one of them: the ascendant political movement are bad guys this time, reactionary nationalists, and the heroes are going to defeat them the hard way, no cheating, which will incite the healing of vacuo.

[lemon-natalia]

Nona the Ninth Reaction - Chapter 17

only nearly 50% of the way through this book and we’re already on day four. and the description that ‘Hot Sauce draws her gun’ on this day is very ominous

‘That fucking shuttle’ Palamedes i am not as smart as you, i am both very concerned and totally clueless about what Palamedes realised about the shuttle. i guess my main theories are Pyrrha has either been taken/went willingly for some unknown reason to the Emperor’s shuttle, or she’s been taken into BoE custody for some reason??

from We Suffer’s perspective i guess it makes sense that she wants Nona to be Harrow, because despite their overall perspective on necromancy, having a Lyctor who could actually help them fight against the Houses could be incredibly helpful for BoE. at least i hope its that because Harrow did help kill an awful lot of planets in the last book, and i imagine some of BoE might want revenge

ohhhhmfg Pal and Cam’s situation is so tragic. Palamedes has technically survived but from his perspective he’s doing exactly what he rejected so firmly in GtN, killing her. this is just cruel 

and for all my theorising about Nona i didn’t consider what Pal suggests here, that Nona’s some kind of full soul merger of Harrow and Gideon. for starters i think its unlikely, given Nona has her similarities but is very different in many unique ways to both of them. and on a more personal level i just hope thats not the case because i like my character’s souls unmerged please and thank you

i wonder if Nona’s going to be able to do something about the RB eventually, given she seems to be able to understand it. also describing it as ‘low[ing] sadly, like a cow’ feels like a very pointed comparison given John apparently killed a whole bunch of cows a couple chapters ago. i mean i have no clue what the fuck it could mean or why but it feels significant 

i’m still very intrigued as to whose side the Angel is on. based on her story here she’s clearly not associated with the Houses, but that doesn’t necessarily mean she’s with BoE either. she’s kind to Nona and a good teacher to the kids seemingly but i still think she’s suspicious and don’t fully trust her 

the absolute irony of John’s motivations apparently being to save the Earth and everyone from climate change, only to years later be killing planets and using them for mining 

‘An interesting group, your family’ ohhh shit, first Hot Sauce and now the Angel seem to be taking note of the strangeness of Nona’s situation. and i’m curious whats up with Hot Sauce and the Angel’s relationship, what with her having already told Hot Sauce the survival advice she gives the rest, and Hot Sauce being so determined to look out for her. i wonder if Hot Sauce has confided in the Angel about Nona’s cut not healing, and thats why they seem suspicious of Nona’s family here

oooh is Nona’s drawing that seems to disturb the Angel an awful lot her drawing her dreams, of Gideon maybe?

oh the kid’s plan and swearing this oath is going to go so so badly. i feel like there’s no way they’re not gonna find out Nona’s related to necromancy sooner rather than later

wtf Hot Sauce is very ruthlessly practical about Born in the Morning’s dads being ‘baggage’. its  hard to believe she’s roughly the same age as Jeannemary was in GtN. like don’t get me wrong, Jeannemary went through an awful lot but she and Isaac were also ‘annoying teens’ in the way Hot Sauce really hasn’t gotten to be 

[spitsonyou1]

the randomest little be more chill rant that nobody asked for- both musical and book spoilers

not anything wrong with either of these, just mad at a character and I WANT TO CRUSH HER UNDER MY HEEL I ALSO WANT TO CRUSH THAT STUPID COMPUTER PILL.

read if you want?? Idk if you wanna sooo you dont have to

⚠️TW⚠️- sensitive topics such sexual harassment, drug use, and more relating to these

alright im not explaining anything and i assume you have read or watched bmc if you are reading this

i am going to be talking about the scene/song 'Do You Wanna Hang". (a very disturbing song for me, which most definitely implied S/A)

ehem. JEREMY IS NOT AT FAULT HERE. AND NO IM NOT BEING BIASED BECAUSE HE'S MY FAVORITE.

but genuinley. people could say it's Chloe's fault-- but that is more in the book, which i will talk about in a minute. It could be Chloe's fault in the musical, but she was also drunk off her mind and did not consent either. IN THE MUSICAL, THE FAULT IS ON THE SQUIP. it kept jeremy in that situation in both pieces of media, against his will, and if it weren't for Jake finding them, that situation would be horrifying. And because of the squip controlling jeremy, jeremy would be at fault for (yk)ing Chloe while she was drunk, therefore cheating on Brooke.

and so yesterday i finished the musical. i am still thinking about this song, and i go to the song on yt to see what others think about it.

dear the people, THIS IS NOT LIKE 'SAY NO TO THIS' FROM HAMILTON. ALEXANDER WAS FULLY IN CONTROL OF HIMSELF. MARIA (marie? idk) WAS NOT DRUNK.

as that one person on the reddit article said, this is much more like Blue or Your Welcome from Heathers. a very disturbing song portraying a strong message when characters were not in control of themselves, leading to messed up situations.

it is nothing like Say No to This.

(dear fanfic authors who make Jeremy and Chloe friends, this situation had not been resolved. you better have made a good side plot for this <3)

AND NOW FOR MY BOOK RAnT (there are many differences between the book and the musical, i prefer some things in each over others for reasons.)

a little bit of this info may be wrong, because i read the book a month or so ago. correct me if i AM wrong.

At some point when Jeremy was first in the party, chloe of course found him since they had agreed to meet up at the party in the book. (also, brooke and jeremy were never dating book wise) chloe gave him a mystery drug, and just told him to take it. CHLOE. LOOK AT ME. WHY. he takes it, and of course the squip is turned off now.

SO CHLOE HAS GIVEN HIM THIS STRONG DRUG, TAKES ONE HERSELF, AND TAKES HIM DOWN INTO THE BASEMENT.

you can see the problems with this.

in the book, this is chloes fault. she took advantage of jeremy for her own pleasure.

i dont think jeremy had consented to this in the book. (again i might be wrong)

and of course, Jake catches this in the act

we continue the book without uncovering this again, as they did in the musical

but yes that is the end of my rant.

i still dont like chloe

[foodsies4me]

April Malec fic rec!

Thanking @just-add-butter and @ariella9melody for this month's theme which is a double combo of "Outsider's POV" and "Let Alec have friends!" The same rules apply as always, one fic per author, even though all of these authors have other brilliant fics you should be reading and if you want to add your own recs in the comments, tags, or reblogs please feel free to do so! 😊

Also, I have tagged the authors whose Tumblr account I know, but if you'd prefer I not tag you, please tell me! I don't want these to be annoying for the authors.

One-shots:

Enthrallment by @smilebackwards: Magnus' magic being possessive and warlocks reacting to Magnus' magic being possessive, what more could you want? OC POV!

Summary:

It does look a little bad, Parmela thinks, looking at it from outside. As more specialists had been called in for consultation, they’d decamped to one of the larger conference rooms—eschewing attendance at A, B, AB, & O: The Impact of Blood Type on Non Subject Specific Blood Magic, because this was vastly more interesting and potentially important—and there are a round dozen high-level warlocks clustered around Alec, poking at him with magic. Or: Alec attends the Magical Inventions and Advances convention in hopes of recruiting warlocks for another Downworld Cabinet. The warlocks, however, are more interested—and concerned—by the blue magical aura following Alec around.

And I am breaking my own rules by rec-ing a second fic by smilebackwards: Portable Magic

Summary:

Magnus may go slightly overboard helping Alec set up for the book club gathering. Technically, perhaps, he didn’t need to create a signature cocktail or barter a favor to Raphael for O neg blood for the vampires or source the biscotti directly from Italy. But hospitality is important and these are Alec’s friends. He wants to make a good impression. Or: Alec is in a Downworld book club and Magnus finds this unaccountably fascinating.

I'll die on this (Under)hill by @clottedcreamfudge: like all of the fics written by clottedcreamfudge, this fic is downright hilarious. That said, poor Underhill. Underhill POV!

Summary:

The point is, Magnus Bane and Alec Lightwood clearly have an intimate knowledge of each other, and it has never once impacted on their work. What it is beginning to impact on, however, is Andrew’s sanity. Because apparently he really is the only one to have noticed it.

Be careful with my best friends heart by TheLostLightwood: A fic in Cat's perspective, who I maintain is one of the best characters in the series and we needed more of her! Cat POV!

Summary:

Catarina Loss had known Magnus for a long time, she had seen him cry, laugh, mourn, get injured and fall in love many times before. But she had never seen him more in love or more broken than she had in this moment. Cat's POV, as Alec is seriously injured in a fight against demons. And Magnus well he...

Alec's Little Ducklings by @to-the-stars-writing (this will be one of two recs for to the stars because I am being very bad at keeping to my rules this time around). Alec gets hurt and all of his friends appear to take care of him!

Summary:

After Alec's hurt coming home from the Hunter's Moon, he's left laid up in bed when the drug they gave him prevents his injuries from being healed by angelic or magical powers. Magnus is fully prepared to do take care of his stubborn boyfriend, only to find out that there are a few other people who are more than willing to offer their help.

the right thing by @cuubism: As the summary says, Alec's first speech as the Inquisitor doesn't go exactly as planned. Izzy POV!

Summary:

Alec's first speech as Inquisitor doesn't go exactly as planned.

nock. draw. release by chaidrivenwhore: A non human POV, but a weapon POV! Alec's bow to be specific!

the bow and arrows had tempted many, but this specific one, with its curved limbs engraved with angelic runes and sharp arrows, straight and unbending, had called out to a nine year old alexander lightwood like no other had.

Multi-chapter fics or series:

Families of Choice by MonPetitTresor, a recommendation made by @ariella9melody that I can only agree with because this fic is wonderful (as are all fics my MonPetitTresor).

Summary:

Life at the Institute takes a turn for the worse for Alec. When he's alone with nowhere else to turn, his siblings step up and help him find his feet once more with help from a few new friends along the way. Between them, Alec finally gets a chance to realize that the world doesn't begin and end with being a Shadowhunter, and there's more out there for him, so long as he's got the courage to reach out and grab it.

ask the always impossible of me by @faejilly: Some very nice Aline and Alec friendship!

Summary:

Just for one night, a magical ball where anyone can meet, when anything is possible... And that's just the beginning.

Running from the Night by @to-the-stars-writing: I love how Stars depicts Alec's struggles with his mental health and there are a lot of friends for Alec in this one!

Summary:

For a long time, Alec had felt like his life was held together by strings tied on him by the Clave, his parents, his siblings. Strings that pulled and tugged him in every which direction, heedless of the bruises and blood left behind. As much as they hurt, some days they’d been the only thing to hold him together. That is, up until the moment Alec stood on the shores of Lake Lyn and faced the death of the one person who held a piece of his soul, and the lies that followed his mysterious resurrection. There, on the shores of Lake Lyn, those strings finally pulled too hard, and Alec broke. With the permission of the Inquisitor, and the help of the warlock who Alec had wanted so desperately to allow himself to fall for (and had been terrified to do more than smile at his flirting) Alec walked away from everything and everyone. He left New York behind and made himself a home in the small town of Prayer – a joke Magnus found particularly funny. But, two years after that fateful night, Alec’s old life comes knocking, and those strings he thought he’d finally cut are tugging him home. Back to the place he never wanted to have to see again. At least this time, he’s not facing it alone.

[bloodpen-to-paper]

Spider-man: Across the Spider-Verse Trailer Thoughts

Can I just start this post off by saying that I am totally normal? Over this movie? Perfectly reasonable in my level of hype and mentally well in every way? Mhm, trust me. Anyway, onto the blurbs!

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

-Seems Miles is at his teenage rebellion stage

-Miles' teacher telling him he's not doing too well in Spanish in front of his Puerto Rican mother is an ouch (in that it's hilarious, but not for him. Sorry Miles)

-Seems there's gonna be a rift between Miles and his parents now that he's Spider-Man full time and very much keeping it secret from them; maybe this movie is where they find out?

-Across the Spider Verse seems to also have a core theme of Miles going against the grain and doing things his way, forging his own individual path for how he wants to do Spider-Man. Looking forward to seeing a more grown up Miles that is able to go further into his self-exploration now that he's reaching older teen/young adulthood.

-I think Gwen and Miles might get together this movie which... eh. Alright. No hate to the ship, but the first movie felt very platonic save for Miles liking her cause she's a pretty girl, and rip to cishet society but that ain't enough to sell me on a relationship. Maybe they'll get some development in this movie? Until possibly that I'm just gonna enjoy them as friends personally

-Apparently Oscar Isaac voices Miguel... Doctor Strange was not kidding when he said the multiverse got screwed in NWH

-Here we have Jessica Drew, Marvel's first (continuous) Spider-Woman! She looks awesome, and based on how often she appeared in the trailer, I'm assuming she will play a key role.

-I also suspect she will help push the narrative around ATSV's theme of parenthood, with Miles having issues with his own, and Peter becoming a father.

-Regarding the race change for Jessica, I earlier referred to her as the first "continuous" Spider-Woman, because she was the first woman to notably don the spidey title. However, the first official Spider-Woman was actually a one-off character named Valerie the Librarian. Originally, Valerie had no powers; she instead went around as a non-super helping Peter Parker's Spidey in any way she could. Spider Verse has always been by black people for black people, so it doesn't surprise me that they (allegedly) are honing back to Valerie, a black woman and the first official Spider-Woman, to base Jessica's appearance on. Goes to show the creators did their homework, which I'm pleased to see.

She is so beautiful ma'am please take my hand in marriage; also, she's pregnant! She is literally hero-ing while pregnant, which I've realized is not something we really see like... ever. Granted, because its dangerous, but Spider Verse has always made strides to give more diverse female representation, and a pregnant spidey mirroring pregnant working women seems to be next on their list. Happy to see it!

-We got Miguel O'Hara! Admittedly I'm not the most familiar with him, but one doesn't traverse Marvel comic fandom without having heard of this guy. Based on what I'm seeing in the trailer, he looks like a very fun character and I'm excited to know more

-"Don't even get me started on Doctor Strange and the little nerd back on Earth-199999." I am... so normal about the acknowledgment of the MCU in Spiderverse. The multiverse really is converging, which on a meta sense is something I absolutely love so I am very excited to see where the Marvel universe heads.

-Also people have been saying Feige stated the MCU was Earth-616 and Spider Verse went against that, which they're happy about, so if someone could fill me in on what happens in Earth-616 I'd appreciate it!

Peter's back! And he has a spider baby! From what I've seen this is Mayday Parker, daughter of Peter Parker and Mary Jane Watson, and she does indeed get her father's spider abilities in the comics. Perhaps we'll see more of her in the future?...👀

Stab me, it would hurt less.

(Looks like Gwen's backstory is being explored more, which is a hooray moment, but its exploring her trauma, which is less hooray.)

And of course... the meme, made multiversal. (Is that fucking PS5 Spiderman)

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

That's about it, very excited for this movie, also afraid, but mostly excited! See y'all when it drops!

[gale-gentlepenguin]

In your opinion, what are the top three peaks of worst narrative choice in Miraculous?

An interesting question, because with Narrative choices, its not so much one episode its the impact it has throughout the series.

But because I dont want to solely be Negative. I will also pick 3 POSITIVE narrative peaks as well. (I am only talking about what has aired so far. there could be choices later on I dont like or enjoy more than before. But we will see)

3rd worst

Su Han and the Order of Guardians

me too luka, me too.

Honestly the whole thing with Feast. which i thought would make this list, but nope. Because of Su han, I think Feast did the world a f***ing favor

Su Han is still my least favorite character. He is a stick in the mud that comes to yell and does nothing. The fact that he shows up in season 4 and doesnt even help Marinette with Guardian stuff is bulls***. He should be helping by teaching Mirakungfu, or anything!

Really, he only exists to show that Fu really made the best out of a s*** situation. When the order was beaten by a 4 FOOT TALL BLUE DOG, Having met Su Han, I understand why now.

3rd Best

Marinette telling Alya she's Ladybug

So this one is something many people are on the fence about. If you like this choice, you like or tolerate Alya. If you dont, you hate alya.

I for one Love Alya and Marinette who was sinking in her new responsibility gains a confidant that wants to help and do whats best for her. (she is like 80/20 on that but still, its the thought that counts)

Alya does help flesh out somethings and helps Marinette grow as a guardian and is probably the reason Chat noir didnt f***ing ditch earlier than kuro neko.

Alya even showed to be a somewhat competent ladybug replacement. But thats out the window with the recent episodes. I still think this is one of the best choices made in season 4

2nd Worst

Sentimonsters are Sentient

The show is weird with Sentimonsters. Now I dont know if Sentiadrien is 100% confirmed. But its gross how some sentimonsters are given more respect than others. It is like "Oh only the Human looking ones are sentient" Sentinino, Sentialec, Sentigabriel, sentibubbler all got controlled like puppets with no agency and no one gave a f***.

They should just be emotion's given form and nothing more. Because basically the peacock miraculous creates slaves. And its kind of f***ed up. Id put this at number one, but its still sort of being explored and if the show finds a way to give the sentimonsters full control or a means of not getting erased on a whim, I can over look it. But yea, its pretty bad.

2nd Best

Gabriel Getting all the other Miraculous

I have wanted this since SEASON 2!

The problem with season 3 and 4 was the fact that Ladybug and Chat noir had access to so many powers, heroes and abilities that basically Hawkmoth/Shadowmoth were not even a threat anymore. That they could have taken him down at anytime if they were more active. Like no cap, why didnt Marinette give herself the snake AND horse when she went for Shadowmoth in Sentibubbler. Or the horse and Bee? Stun his butt and WIN.

With Gabriel having the miraculous, the tables and stakes are now high again. Ladybug and Chat noir are up against the wall. Thats where the tension needs to be if you want things to develop.

The Worst

Miracle Queen (The last 10 minutes)

So this may seem like cheating but this episode really did a LOT and had a massive impact on the show. Lets have a check list.

It had Fu wipe his memories (something that apparently he could do but was never mentioned)

Chloé's growth and development is completely tossed out that she ends up exactly how she was in season 1 (and eventually worse)

The love rivals start dating the heroes because Marinette read Fu's letter which just told her "Life sucks and you gotta settle"

So basically it pulled a Deus ex machina out of its butt, destroyed the potential of a redemption arc and then make no means of seeing a struggle just poof, like it didnt even happen. And then the love rivals that had hardly any screen time (maybe like 2 episodes total with the heroes) are just dating.

The last one may have gotten axed but the first two are ever present and its horse crap.

The Best

Chat Blanc

So this is gonna need some explaining. While I am not crazy about the time travel, and I am not crazy about all the things in the episode, or even how some of the trauma is handled. Chat Blanc is an excellent choice to show the viewer how things can go wrong.

Its not the scenario where Hawkmoth wins, its not the heroes winning. Its EVERYONE LOSES.

This episode took Season 3 to the darkest its been. I would have loved if it was several episodes. I would have loved if this was explored more. But the fact that the group took a concept fans have thought about and brought it to such an NTH degree

I 100% can say with certainty before this episode no one wrote Chat blanc in fanfiction as an end of world threat. Maybe a dangerous beast or feral cat. But NOT A COSMIC LEVEL THREAT.

This episode demonstrated how dangerous the powers of the miraculous are. It gave the viewer a reason on why Marinette and Adrien dont share their identities right away. Its because of the worst case scenario.

(I would have put origins, cause umbrella scene but thats not so much a narrative choice as it is the start of everything, but know its basically pseudo number one)

[takaraphoenix]

Sugar for the Secretary

Part 1: The New Secretary

Tags: m/m/m, polyamory, AU/heavy canon divergence, post-Nogitsune, Bad Alpha/Friend Scott, Stiles leaves Beacon Hills, Spark Stiles, Pack Mom Stiles, Alpha Peter, magic, sugar daddies, fluff, hurt/comfort, PTSD, (explicit intercourse, anal, oral <- those will be in part 2), m/f

Main Pairing: Chris/Peter/Stiles

Side Pairings: Boyd/Erica, Jackson/Lydia

Teen Wolf Characters: Mieczysław 'Stiles' Stilinski, Peter Hale, Chris Argent, Allison Argent, Derek Hale, Erica Reyes, Vernon Boyd III, Isaac Lahey, Jackson Whittemore, Lydia Martin, Cora Hale

Writer's Month Prompts: sketch + plane

Summary: Stiles finally got out of Beacon Hills, together with Isaac. They move to London for a fresh start and Stiles gets a job at as a personal assistant to a lawyer, Peter Hale. He didn't expect for Peter to be an Alpha, to find a new pack and even less so, to fall in love with his new boss and his boss' husband.

This Story on FFNet | This Story on AO3

and if you want to read part 2, where the smut and sugar-daddy-ing is stored, you will have to follow this story on one of those sites ;)

Sugar for the Secretary

Stiles Summer Stories 2024

Part 1: The New Secretary

Stiles sat curled together on his seat on the plane, legs drawn up and a sketchbook on his knees. The weight against his shoulder was comforting, felt like home. Isaac next to him was snoring slightly, rubbing his nose against Stiles' shoulder, scenting him even in his sleep. A small smile stretched over Stiles' lips as he reached out to run his fingers through the oversized puppy's hair.

Turning his head, he looked out of the small plane window, watching the way the endless water finally made room for land. His heart skipped a beat. They'd done it. They had left the US – left Beacon Hills – behind. Finally. Everything would be better, wherever they'd end up. For now, that was London. It had been the first flight out of LA that led to another continent and Stiles wanted as much distance to that cursed, fucked-up town as possible. London sounded good.

"Are we there yet?" Isaac asked in a sleepy voice, nuzzling him.

"Soon, pup," Stiles whispered, his arm still around Isaac. "Soon."

Fuck Beacon Hills. Fuck Scott. Fuck Theo. Fuck it all. Stiles got out and he took his pup with him. Even without a pack, he was still Pack Mom, as long as he had his pup. A sneer formed on his face at the thought of the pack that had rejected him, of how easy it had been for Theo to twist Scott, turn him against his oldest friend. All these years, all the things Stiles had done for him, and some well-placed comments from Theo were all it took. No more. They got out, he got out.

"We're going to have a new start," Stiles muttered, to himself, to Isaac, to fate itself. "A better life."

The hand not playing with Isaac's hair was gripping his pen tight. He was doodling, silly sketches. Twirls all over, three joined together, just pointless, meaningless symbols, but they looked pretty.

/break\

"Peter Hale, I am not your personal assistant, I am your paralegal."

Peter didn't even raise his eyes off the file he was reading when Lydia stormed into his office. He loved that girl fiercely, she was ruthless, brilliant, manipulative. Plus, she was on track to becoming a lawyer and Peter knew not many years from now, his firm was going to be Hale, Martin & Associates. Best addition he ever made to his pack.

"Someone needs to do it. On the ladder, you're below me."

Lydia's face scrunched up in annoyance. "Your dry-cleaning and fancy coffees and your lunch appointments are not my job, Alpha," Lydia spoke firmly. "Get. A. Personal. Assistant."

A low growl escaped Peter. "I won't trust someone who isn't pack with my dealings."

The redhead in front of him put her hands on her hips and stared at him unimpressed. "Well, then, convince one of the other betas to actually do this job, but it isn't mine."

And then she had the audacity to snort. "I can just see Derek being delighted to organize your and Chris' date nights. Jackson trying to figure out how dry-cleaning works."

This time, Peter also had to snort. He loved his pack, as much as they annoyed him at times, but they were all not fit for this either. Lydia was the only one he trusted to keep up with him. He was an incredibly busy man who always juggled ten things at a time, was the most sought out defense lawyer in London, the Alpha of a pack of werewolves, husband and father – there was a lot that needed his attention. Lydia, she was quick and clever, she could keep up with all the tasks he gave her. She also was part of his pack, so she knew about the supernatural. What was Peter supposed to do with a human from whom he'd have to keep everything?

"This is my last warning, Peter," Lydia raised her eyebrows. "Get a personal assistant, or I'm quitting. Jackson's father is dying to have me work for his law-firm too."

She wiggled her hand, her engagement ring glinting in the light. Jackson Whittemore, whose father David was a lawyer himself. Peter and him had battled in court a couple times before. He wasn't bad, but he was no Peter Hale. So Peter knew this was an empty threat. Still, though…

"Fine," Peter heaved a sigh. "Will you put together a listing…?"

"One last time I'll do something that's not part of my job," Lydia smiled pleased.

/break\

Chris was holding his cup of coffee between both hands, looking out of the kitchen window into their backyard. His daughter Allison was outside with her bow, practicing. He had very mixed feelings about it. Though he'd taught her his own way, seeing her embrace their hunter heritage sent his thoughts swirling with memories of his family, the family he'd left behind in Beacon Hills all these years ago. He took a shaky breath and closed his eyes.

For so many years, Chris had done everything in his power to be the perfect soldier, the perfect son. He pushed down his homosexuality, he married the strong and beautiful woman his father picked for him from an allied, influential hunter family, he had a daughter, an heir.

And then he met Peter Hale and fell madly, deeply in love, in a way he never thought he could. But it was the Hale Fire that changed everything. The death of nearly all of Peter's family, leaving Peter in a coma and his nephew and nieces all alone and lost. They were just kids. Cora was so small, Derek was only fifteen, Laura was barely legal, not in any way ready to take care of her siblings.

It was the biggest fight Chris ever had with his family and he understood it. They were werewolf hunters and he wanted to take in three orphaned wolves. And then Victoria accused him, knowing there was more to this than just charity. Knew that Chris had been sleeping with Peter.

They got divorced, it was an ugly divorce and Chris had to fight to take custody of Laura, Cora and Derek. He thought he could share custody of Allison with his now ex-wife, but then Kate came back. His baby sister, she came back and she snarled at him for taking in Hales, for caring about Hales, and he realized the truth. The ugly truth that Kate had killed Peter's family, had done it for revenge because she'd known Chris was in love with Peter. It had all been Chris' fault.

When Chris realized that these sociopaths were with whom he'd leave his daughter – there was no flinching, no condoning, when Gerard and Victoria were confronted with Kate's actions – they ran. The Hales had funds, millions of dollars from too many life insurances that had all gone to the survivors. In the middle of the night, Chris had Peter flown out with a medical helicopter, and he packed everything important and his four kids and followed.

They lived in New York, until Peter was recovered enough to speak and move again. The strength of his pack-bonds, of his mate and the cubs, helped his recovery, so did the Alpha spark that he had inherited from his sister, as the oldest living Hale.

Peter became the Alpha of the Hale Pack and as small and broken as it was, with only Chris, Peter, Laura, Derek, Cora and Allison, it was a good pack. A good family. A family Chris loved.

There was no hiding the truth from Allison anymore, she didn't understand why she had to leave her mom, why she couldn't contact their family, and living with four born wolves, she needed to know the truth, even if she was still so young. His wide-eyed little princess, she thought it was cool. Werewolves. Like in the movies and shows. She'd giggled the first time Laura showed her shift-form and flashed her eyes at Allison and it had warmed Chris' heart.

Generations of hatred and bigotry and he had gotten his daughter out before she could be victim to his family's indoctrination. She still had a chance, to be happy and have a normal life.

And yet here she was, practicing archery with silver arrows in their backyard. And it made him feel tense and nervous. He knew, he knew she would not harm the innocent. He'd raised her better than that. But seeing her use the chosen weapons of his old family just made him think of what his father would have twisted her into, would still try to twist her into if he got his hands on her.

"You worry too much, my love."

Chris tensed for only a moment, torn out of his dark thoughts, but then he relaxed when his husband wrapped his arms around Chris' waist. Taking a slow, deep breath, Chris leaned against Peter's chest. His solace, his love, his Alpha. Sure, Chris was the one who'd helped Peter heal, had helped his recovery and his physical therapy and had watched over the kids while Peter was still in a coma, but what Peter had done for him? Showing him love, showing him family and pack? It had saved Chris from a fate worse than death, he knew that, deep down.

"I can't help but worry," Chris argued. "She's still my little girl, even if she may be twenty. And the things our pack gets involved in, it's… dangerous. I worry about them all, all our betas, but the wolves at least have their supernatural healing. Allison doesn't."

"I'm more than aware of that," Peter grumbled, nuzzling Chris' neck. "I have the same worries about you too, Christopher. You don't have supernatural healing either but you throw yourself head first into every danger and fight too. She's… her father's daughter."

Peter's hands trailed up Chris' stomach, deliberately tracing scars from years of hunting. Chris huffed. He knew his husband was right, on both accounts. He heaved a deep breath.

"How's the assistant hunting going?" Chris asked, to change the topic. "Heard from Allison that Lydia finally convinced you to hire someone. Very good, because I was starting to fear she may kill you one day if you don't. She's your paralegal, not your girl for everything."

It was Peter's turn to grumble at that. "I have interviewed six failures so far."

"Peter," Chris heaved a sigh. "You gotta give one of them a chance."

"No," Peter glared, Chris could hear the glare in his voice. "My personal assistant would have to coordinate pack things, would have to understand my needs as a werewolf. All these doe-eyed humans are just not fit for the job. Besides, they can't keep up with me either. What good is an assistant when they stumble over instructions and are overwhelmed by a few tasks?"

"Well, then get one for their doe-eyes," Chris rolled his eyes.

"Excuse me?" Peter huffed out a laugh.

"You heard me, Peter," Chris offered a half shrug. "Lydia is very done with you on this matter. You need an assistant. If you don't trust them with the tasks to the point of not even giving them a chance to prove themselves, then hire one for their pretty doe-eyes. Get yourself some eye-candy into the office, and maybe they will prove themselves."

"Mister Hale," Peter purred delighted, kissing Chris' neck. "Are you trying to make me seduce a non-existent assistant here? How very naughty."

Chris gave another half-shrug. "I'm not telling you to fuck them over your desk, but if something pretty to look at is the motivation you need to hire someone, then do it."

"Mh…" Peter made an intrigued noise.

"The fucking over your desk can still come later once they proved themselves."

Peter sputtered out a laugh and Chris turned around in his arms to properly kiss him. Though Chris was mostly teasing here and making fun of his husband, the two of them had taken plenty pretty twinks home with them over the years, they'd always enjoyed sharing.

/break\

Stiles was sitting at their kitchen table, legs crossed beneath him. The newspaper was spread out on the table in front of him. He was already working two jobs, waiting tables at a cafe and bartending at a club around the corner, but it just wasn't enough. It never was. Him and Isaac were already living in a shitty, tiny rathole of an apartment and rent was still too damn high. Not to mention the amount of food a werewolf could eat – not that he'd say that one out loud, Isaac would just look so unfathomably guilty at that. And now Stiles' laptop broke. He needed a new one.

His life had fallen apart so much, he was hanging in by a threat. Him and Isaac were surviving here, but not quite living. His research, his hyperfixations on weird supernatural occurrences, that was his escape, that was his. If he couldn't do that anymore, he was going to break. It was his distraction, from all the bad fucking memories of all the bad fucking things that had happened in Beacon Hills. He'd thrown himself entirely into his research and work and taking care of Isaac to keep himself from spiraling. He needed this. So he needed more money, to get it fixed.

"What you need isn't a better job," Isaac offered. "Because neither of us has any kind of qualification for an actual better job. What you need is a sugar daddy, Stiles."

"Fuck you," Stiles sputtered, throwing a pillow at his pup.

Isaac was sprawled out on their bed – because there wasn't much more in their one room apartment, a bed, a table, two chairs squeezed in. They had the tiny bathroom too, thankfully enough, because Stiles had absolutely drawn the line at the apartments that shared bathrooms with the entire floor. Nope, no way, no sir. Stiles had some standards, regardless of how painfully broke they were.

"C'mon, you know I'm right," Isaac grinned teasingly. "You haven't gotten laid since we got here. I know. I can smell it. Which also, I wish I couldn't. But yeah. Two birds, one stone. You could go and seduce a filthy rich guy and we could live off of him."

"Ah, yes," Stiles gave Isaac a pointed look, voice completely dry. "So many rich guys are into twenty year old single moms of young, bratty werewolf pups."

Stiles threw an apple at Isaac, getting an oof from the other boy as the apple his him in the stomach. Then Isaac picked it up and took a bite out of it. It wasn't even that Isaac was wrong. Stiles was horny and absolutely desperate for physical contact from someone not Isaac. Pack cuddles with his pup were great, but he wanted something very different. But dating was made harder for Stiles on account of Isaac – he was way too prone for feelings, he couldn't risk his heart with someone who didn't know werewolves existed, couldn't drag anyone into this life. And his and Isaac's relationship was impossible to explain to someone who wasn't a wolf. Fuck, it would be a hard sell even to a werewolf, Stiles guessed. A Pack Mom without a pack.

"This looks good," Stiles spoke absentmindedly as he circled a job listing. "Personal assistant. Doesn't really sound like it requires too many qualifications. And lawyer should pay well."

"Again: Just get a sugar daddy and then you could stop working and start going to college, as you absolutely should because your brain is totally wasted waiting tables."

"Isaac, I love you, pup, but drop it," Stiles warned him with one look.

Isaac heaved a sigh but he thankfully obeyed. They both knew that Stiles could go places with his intellect, knew that he was meant to absorb more knowledge at college. But college didn't pay the bills. They had to prioritize and a roof over head was more important than education.

/break\

Peter knew his husband had manipulated him, but he wasn't mad about it. He found it quite delightful and saw it as a sign that he had rubbed off on Christopher over the years. Besides, he did like Chris' angle. Even if the assistant proved useless, it would be nice to have a bit of eye-candy around. So yes, he was going to just hire the prettiest little thing that'd walk through his door.

"Mister Hale, your next interview is here," Lydia announced. "Mister Stilinski."

She stepped into the office, followed by someone. Once she was close enough, he ran an arm down her arm, scent-marking her in passing. She tilted her head a little bit in return, silent submission to her Alpha. It was subtle enough but it pleased Peter and Lydia knew that he needed the calming effect his betas' submission had before one of these interviews. The more idiotic applicants were really testing his patience and the last thing he needed was to go all fangs and claws on someone.

"Please, sit down," Peter motioned at the chair opposite him.

Lydia grabbed a couple files off his desk before sauntering out of the office again. Only when the door closed behind her did his eyes land on Mister Stilinski. Peter froze in surprise as the largest, prettiest doe-eyes stared at him that he had ever seen. Wide, a dark honey-whiskey color with long lashes casting shadows on pale cheeks. Peter swallowed. That much for hiring a doe-eyed beauty, if nothing else, hm. A pretty face too, with a cute upturned nose, pink lips, tousled brown hair that looked like the boy had run his fingers through it in a nervous habit before coming into the office.

"Thank you for the chance, Mister Hale," Stilinski offered him a smile.

He really was pretty. That would be a treat to look at every day. Peter rested his elbow on his desk, supporting his head as he drank in the sight. Long, pale neck, begging to be marked up. Slender frame, long legs thrown over each other, thighs that would look good wrapped around Chris' waist.

"Why do you think you're the right choice for this job?" Peter asked curiously. "I'm a very demanding employer, I'm a busy man with important cases. I need someone who can keep up with me, who will not forget or mix up my appointments, who isn't above the smaller jobs either. I will demand many random errands too, I have a… large family that demands my attention."

"I'm very good at multitasking, I'm not above getting you your favorite coffee order from across town if that's what you need from me, I'll keep your calendar organized, I can run any errands you'll need me to, and I'll accommodate you for all your… other needs."

That gave Peter a tense pause and made him wonder if he had leered at the boy a little too obviously. Was he coming onto Peter? That was… very daring. Not necessarily in an appreciated manner, considering the way Peter was sitting and drawing attention to the wedding band on his hand. He liked taking a pretty thing home, with his husband, when they were very clear about their shared interest and intention. What he didn't appreciate too much was when people hit on him regardless of his wedding ring. Cheating wasn't something Peter condoned, even if that may be a hypocritical thing to say, considering how his relationship with Christopher had started. Then again, his very gay husband had been forced into an arranged, loveless marriage with a cold woman who didn't love him either, so he had never quite found it in himself to feel too guilty in that case.

His eyes were steely. "I'm unsure what you are implying there, Mister Stilinski."

"You're a werewolf," the boy said, surprising Peter even more. "I assume that will entail special accommodations to your schedule and your… needs."

A low warning growl escaped Peter. "How do you know that."

The broad, smug smirk on the boy's lips should not be as tempting as it was. "You were scent-marking Miss Martin when she approached your desk earlier and she, in return, bared her throat to you, which makes me think you're not just a werewolf, you're an Alpha. The 'large family' you spoke of, I am assuming is your pack. And your calendar looks quite full, but you have no appointments on the three days of the full moon, which stands out."

"Clever boy," Peter raised an eyebrow. "And how do you know about werewolves? I would have smelled if you were a wolf yourself, Mister Stilinski."

"I'm…" Stilinski leaned back, a calculating look on his face. "I used to be in a werewolf pack, before I moved to London. So I have a lot of experience with werewolves and… ah, werewolf needs. I know how to treat wolfsbane injuries, I know about pack dynamics, I know what to look out for in regards to potential… dangers and such."

There was more to that. The boy was something, he'd started that sentence with I'm, before redirecting. He wasn't ready to share what he was yet, but he was not human. Intriguing.

"I'm intrigued," Peter admitted amused. "Tomorrow, eight AM, do not be late. I prefer the espresso from the Silver Moon café."

These big doe-eyes blinked at him confused. "What."

Peter offered a wolfish grin and a flash of red eyes. "You're hired, Mister Stilinski."

/break\

Chris was sitting at a table in the Silver Moon, coffee and a croissant in front of him. When Peter came home yesterday, he'd been far too wired up. Apparently, he'd hired a pretty doe-eyed assistant – and even better yet, that assistant was in the know about the supernatural. Chris was curious, considering how horny Peter had been yesterday, so he wanted to see the boy for himself.

"There you go, Alpha," Erica grinned as she placed a plate of eggs in front of him.

"Thanks, kid," Chris smiled at her, gently touching her arm.

The Silver Moon was the café their betas Boyd and Erica owned and ran together. The mated pair worked well together, Boyd in the kitchen in the back, Erica up front behind the counter and, if there were not too many customers, she'd also bring the food to the table.

"Oh, hey, we are still on for shopping today afternoon, right?" Allison asked.

"Sure," Erica gave her a thumbs-up. "Meet you and Lydia at four."

She hurried back behind the counter when the bell over the door chimed. Chris' eyes fell onto the person entering the shop. A lanky kid, no older than the betas, all pale skin with moles, messy hair that looked like it was made for someone to grab and tug it, bow-shaped, pink lips. It were the big, brown eyes though that tipped Chris off. The definition of doe-eyed. Chris snorted.

"Hi," the boy grinned, bouncing on his feet. "Uhm, please one espresso, two black coffees and one vanilla frappuccino to go. Also, holy shit, that looks really good, one of those croissants, please."

"Sure thing," Erica nods. "Name?"

"Stiles," the doe-eyed twink offers.

"Take a seat, I'll call your name when your order's ready."

Stiles wandered over to sit down in the booth next to Allison and Chris, long legs stretched out into the store as he leaned back, his back cracking in a very unnatural sounding way, causing Chris to wince. Allison narrowed her eyes, having noticed her father's focus on the boy.

"You are not picking a guy for yourself and dad while we are having breakfast," she hissed.

Chris coughed surprised. Well, his and Peter's relationship wasn't a secret – there were no secrets in a pack of werewolves. Allison, thankfully enough, was very accepting of their polyamorous nature, she just asked for them to not parade around one-night-stands in their home.

"I'm not, Allison," Chris chuckled, motioning his head a little toward the kid.

But as he did so, he noticed the boy was looking at him, was now making direct eye-contact with him. It gave him enough pause not to continue speaking. Had the kid overheard her? It had been so low he had barely heard, but then Peter had said the kid may be something supernatural too.

"Did my new boss send his husband to spy on me?"

Chris raised his eyebrows, regarding the boy. "He did not. I got curious on my own. How…?"

"Wedding picture on his desk. Picture of you both and who I assume to be your daughter," Stiles motioned at Allison. "Right next to it. I'm observant."

"Mh," Chris tilted his head, unable to deny the thrill this boy was giving him. "You are going to spend a lot of time with my husband and I like to get my own impression."

Stiles got up and moved to sit down next to Allison, right opposite Chris. Allison scooted over with one raised eyebrow, looking between Chris and Stiles. The boy folded his arms in front of himself on the table, grinning at Chris and leaning forward a little. It drew attention to his neck. Oh, Chris knew exactly what kind of thoughts Peter must have had at the span of pale skin.

"Hi," the boy held out a hand. "I'm Stiles. Nice to meet you, sir."

There was another thrill at the way 'sir' sounded coming from the boy. "Christopher Hale. My daughter, Allison. I'd like to apologize in advance for any growling my husband is going to do."

"Eh," Stiles shrugged. "I've had worse. I can handle a growling Alpha."

"Order up for Stiles," Erica called out, interrupting them.

The pretty twink got up and walked back to the counter. Chris couldn't help but stare at his perky ass. Once he had his order, the bag with the croissant stuck under his arm, the carrier with the four drinks in one hand, he took one of the black coffees and, much to Chris', Allison's and even Erica's horror, downed it in one go. He put the empty cup back onto the counter.

"You terrify me," Erica noted. "I like you."

Stiles offered a grin that was all teeth. "Thanks. I am guessing you're going to see me like five times a week from now on because my boss really likes your coffee."

At Erica's confused look did Chris speak up. "He's Peter's new assistant."

"Huh?" Stiles blinked confused and took the second black coffee.

Good lord, he wasn't going to drink two black coffees within a minute, was he? Chris watched in mortification as Stiles did exactly that. This boy sure was something. Shaking his head, Chris looked around. The café was empty. Chris, Allison, Stiles and Erica were the only ones.

"Erica and her mate run the café. They're also part of our pack," Chris offered. "That's why Peter made you go all this way, since it's not exactly around the corner of the law-firm."

Stiles turned those doe-eyes on Erica, like he was taking her in again. "Interesting."

There was so much calculation in his gaze, as though he was scheming. A look Chris was all too familiar with from his husband. He found it far too charming. Smiling, he took a sip of his own drink, watching the boy step away from the counter.

"Well, I'll see you tomorrow then, Erica," Stiles waved with one hand, then turned toward Chris and Allison. "And I am assuming I'll be seeing you again too, Mister Hale."

With that, he walked out of the café, leaving Chris with an uneasy feeling. The boy was too pretty, too charming, too intriguing, too clever. This was going to be a big temptation for himself and for his husband. He wondered just how long Peter would last before caving and dragging that boy from the office back to the pack-house and into their marital bed to be shared with Chris.

/break\

When Stiles sauntered into the firm, he did so with all the confidence he didn't feel. His suit was cheap, he'd gotten it from a second hand store to look presentable for the job interview yesterday, but this whole office was so large and so pompous, the art on the walls was actually real and expensive, he recognized that. Some of the outfits the lawyers walking past him were wearing probably cost more than Stiles and Isaac's apartment. Hence the fake confidence. He worked here now, he was not going to let the side-eye from the lawyers make him feel like he didn't belong.

"Hello, Miss Martin, you are looking as beautiful as yesterday," Stiles smiled brightly.

Lydia Martin looked up from her desk, utterly unimpressed and waved her hand to show off her engagement ring. "Not interested, Mister Stilinski. But congratulations on the job."

"Oh," Stiles blinked and shook his head. "No. Sorry, that's just my, uh, personality. I'm flirty in nature. Not hitting on you. Super gay. Very gay. Here, I brought you a coffee."

"I don't drink-" Lydia paused as he put the drink down. "Is that a vanilla frappuccino?"

"Yep, you were drinking one yesterday, while I was waiting for the interview," Stiles smiled brightly at her. "And since the big boss sent me to fetch him coffee, I figured I'd bring you one too. Seems you're always hard working and I thought it might be a good way to get off the right foot."

Lydia pursed her lips as she took a sip. "Lydia. You can call me Lydia."

"I'm Stiles," Stiles grinned in victory. "Looking forward to working with you, Lydia."

A small smile played on Lydia's lips as she nodded. "I do think you could be… interesting."

With that ominous sentence did Stiles head into the office of his new boss. It was exactly eight o'clock, he was expected, right? Taking a shaky breath he walked in, finding Peter Hale behind the desk. The man looked up, one eyebrow raised. Waiting. After a moment, Stiles approached and put the coffee down in front of him. Peter still looked at him kind of weirdly.

"Erica said you paid for the coffee," Peter frowned.

"Uhm. Yes? I don't… steal?" Stiles offered, confused.

Peter rolled his eyes in exasperation and then pushed a credit card over the table. "My husband was supposed to cover your bill this morning, but apparently you threw him off by… downing two black coffees in under two minutes and he only noticed when you were already gone. I wasn't expecting you to pay for my coffee out of your own pocket, Mister Stilinski."

Oh. That kind of made sense, but he had been too euphoric about the new job, he hadn't even questioned it. His eyes landed on the credit card, doubtful. Peter pushed it further toward him.

"I expect you to be on time and to bring me coffee every morning. You'll pay any and all expenses that I require with this," Peter tapped the card. "And yes, your coffee order goes on that too."

"But…" Stiles trailed off, adjusting the bag under his arm with the croissant a little.

Peter's very captivating ice-blue eyes landed on it. "Your breakfast too."

"But," Stiles tried again, unsure how to put it.

"If I sent you somewhere to fetch coffee or food for me, I expect you to get something for yourself too," Peter stated, leaning back in his chair, his eyes intense on Stiles. "Lydia!"

After a moment, Lydia stuck her head in, glaring. "Not. Your. Assistant. You have a Stiles now."

"I have a what now," Peter looked at her in puzzlement.

"Stiles," Stiles lifted a hand. "Uh, I prefer to go by Stiles. It's a nickname."

"Stiles," Peter tasted the name in his mouth. "Lydia, you're going out shopping with Erica and Allison today, right? Please take Stiles with you, he needs a new wardrobe."

"I'm good," Stiles squeaked. "I can't-"

Peter pushed the credit-card fully over the desk, very insistent. "I'm not expecting you to spend thousands on suits that I require you to wear, Stiles. The credit card is for anything I require you to buy or ask you to buy. Stop looking at me like that."

Reluctantly did Stiles pocket the credit card after another moment. Lydia heaved a sigh.

"Fi—ine. But only because my fingers are itching to dress that boy in something appropriate. This suit makes me feel sad and miserable," Lydia regarded Stiles. "No offense."

Stiles stared at her bewildered. "Unsure how I could possibly not take offense to that."

/break\

Peter was positively surprised by Mister Stilinski. Stiles. The highest of his expectations had been to get to look at these big doe-eyes and have something pretty in his office. He loved himself a pretty piece of prey and those eyes, mh, they did the trick. But then the boy had surprised him by knowing about the supernatural and he had surprised Peter even more by what a quick study he was.

That first day, Peter might have been a bit more demanding than he usually would be. It was a test. From the coffee order – to see if the boy would be able to remember the name of the store as well as the order, to see what he would do once there (and mh, the fact that the boy had recognized Chris all on his own from having glanced at the photos on Peter's desk pleased him immensely. Clever boy) – to every other task given. He basically sent the kid from one corner of the city to the next, dry-cleaning, going to pick a client up for Peter, delivering some files to the court house. He'd wanted to see if the boy was self-sufficient, knew his way around the city and was clever enough to figure out how to do things without Peter holding his hand. And he proved to be all of that and more.

"You look like the big, bad wolf who actually ate Bambi," Chris furrowed his brows as he approached his husband. "Did you eat Bambi?"

"Bambi is out getting new suits with Lydia," Peter waved a dismissive hand. "Besides, you're mixing your stories up there. The big bad wolf didn't get Bambi. The huntsman did."

Chris cocked an eyebrow and refrained from commenting further. Oh, Peter could see it in his husband's eyes, that Christopher had seen how pretty Bambi was. Smirking like the predator he was, Peter wrapped his arms around Chris' waist to pull him into a slow, deep kiss.

"The kid's going to be a problem, isn't he," Chris asked against Peter's lips.

A casual shrug. Perhaps, Peter wasn't sure yet. He hadn't been this attracted to a third party in a very long time, it might become a problem that the kid now worked for him, but that was a bridge for future Peter to cross. Current Peter got to kiss his husband and had no worries in this world.

/break\

After visiting his husband, Chris made his way to the preferred suit shop of Peter's, knowing he was most likely to find Lydia and entourage there. A small smile spread over his lips as he spotted Allison, Lydia and Erica sprawled out on the expensive leather couch, holding champagne.

"Come out, Stiles," Lydia demanded annoyed.

"I'm gay," Stiles called back without missing a beat.

Lydia simply rolled her eyes, while Chris choked on a laugh. "Not what I meant, honey."

"Hey, dad," Allison side-eyed him as she spotted her father. "What brings you here?"

"Curiosity," Chris offered after a moment.

There was no lying to his daughter, after all. Not entirely, at least. Perhaps the half-truth would suffice for now. Erica scooted over, throwing her legs over Lydia's lap and making room for Chris. An employee brought Chris a flute of champagne and bowed. Damn did Chris hate these fancy places, but that was one of the sides of being a Hale, he supposed. Peter liked it fancy.

"I look ridiculous," Stiles complained as he finally got out of the changing room.

"You look hot," Erica corrected. "Big Bruce Wayne vibes. Very Batman."

"Thanks, Catwoman," Stiles rolled his eyes. "I feel more like Dick Grayson stealing Bruce's suit for the very first time. This is... so not me."

He spread his arms and turned around once. Chris appreciated the view. The suit hugged his body in all the right places, drawing attention to his very well-formed ass and long legs. Those legs, Chris wondered what they'd feel like around his waist... or look like around Peter's head. Erica's cackling and her side-eye toward him told him that he hadn't fully masked his rising arousal. He offered his beta a sharp glare to shut her up. It only partially worked.

"Nonsense, you look good, and besides, this is who you are now," Lydia raised her chin. "You work for the most wanted defense attorney in this city, you represent the Hale name. You have to look the part, if you want to or not."

"This costs more than my car," Stiles muttered dejectedly. "Actually, more than my last two cars together. What the fuck."

"Don't look at the price-tags," Chris chided firmly. "Peter's paying for it."

"Mister Hale," Stiles startled, like he had only just noticed him. "Uhm. What... are you doing here?"

"I got curious when Peter mentioned that he had given you to Lydia as a sacrificial lamb," Chris smirked bemused. "That's always entertaining."

Lydia got up and picked three more suits for Stiles. "These ought to do for now, you will be fitted for something more personalized this Friday, do not miss the appointment."

"More personalized?" Stiles looked actually distressed at that. "This is ridiculous. I'm his secretary, not his new star attorney. I don't need a tailor-made suit."

Lydia gave him a withering glare. "Honey, everybody needs a tailor-made suit."

/break\

Stiles had actually survived his first week of working for Peter Hale. There had been a few close calls where he was pretty sure he was going to die – the suit shopping and the suit fitting were two such occasions, as well as that time he nearly got run over when rushing from the coffeeshop.

It was Monday morning and when he walked into the Silver Moon to get the usual coffee order, he was surprised to find Peter Hale there, sitting with his husband and their daughter. There were five tables, set together, creating a long sitting area. Erica herself was sitting down too, for once, between Allison and a really handsome, dark-skinned guy. There was a kind of arrogant looking blonde guy on Lydia's other side and a tall, dark and handsome guy with stubble on his chin at the end of the table, next to a brunette girl who looked a lot like him and also seemed weirdly familiar.

"Uhm..." Stiles' eyes darted around, unsure how to proceed.

"Sit down," Peter ordered, pulling out the chair between himself and Lydia.

"Uhm," Stiles repeated, wanting a bit more information.

"The pack has breakfast together every Monday, we open the store an hour later on Mondays to make time for it," the guy next to Erica supplied. "I'm Boyd, Erica's mate."

Right. So he had survived the first week and thus got to meet the entire pack then? Reluctantly, he walked over to sit down between Peter and Lydia, looking around.

"These are Cora, Derek and Jackson. The rest you already met, I believe" Peter said in lieu of introduction. "There is one more member to our pack, but she is studying abroad in Paris."

Stiles nodded slowly, offering an awkward wave. Erica started shoveling food onto the plate in front of him. It was set out a bit like a buffet, plates each staked high with pancakes, waffles, bacon, eggs, set out on the tables, everyone just taking whatever they wanted. It was… nice.

Jackson was Lydia's mate, that much became obvious quickly, by the way the two leaned into each other, whispered with each other, exchanged looks that spoke more than entire volumes. Erica kept nuzzling into her own mate too, Boyd having one hand near constantly entangled in her curls. Allison was bickering with Cora, while Derek kept adding his own two cents occasionally.

It was warm and comfortable and that only put Stiles more on edge. Something that's been bothering him for the entire past week now became an itch he needed to scratch. In an attempt to fight that impulse, he started fidgeting more, bouncing his leg, tapping his fingers.

"Stiles," Chris spoke slowly, watching him with sharp eyes. "Is something wrong? We didn't mean to make you uncomfortable with this invitation. It just seemed easier, considering the rest of the pack wanted to get to know you, now that you are going to be a big part of our Alpha's life."

The way Chris reached over the table to take his husband's hand at that last bit made Stiles' heart jump. Werewolf mates would always just really get him, they fucked him up bad. That kind of intense love and devotion? One could only dream about, really.

"It's not that," Stiles shook his head, pausing. "There's just… Something's been bugging me. But I don't know if it's my place to even bring it up. Probably not."

"Well, now you have to say it," Cora huffed, giving him a look.

Stiles turned toward her when she spoke and he couldn't help but stare. Why did she look so familiar? He felt like he'd seen her before. Where had he seen her before? He had such a good memory usually, why did this escape him. Something about her was eerily familiar.

"Why doesn't this place have wards," Stiles blurted out, before his brain could latch onto the Cora mystery. "The firm too. I don't get it. They're pack-owned. Why would you not protect them."

The others slowed down in their eating, individual conversations coming to a halt as everyone regarded him and great. Yeah. This was why he hadn't meant to bring it up. He grew more nervous.

"How do you know that there aren't wards?" Peter asked dryly.

"I mean, for one, my job interview? When you reacted surprised that I knew about the supernatural," Stiles tilted his head as he turned to look at the Alpha next to himself. "If your firm had wards, bare minimum is for them to trip if another supernatural creature walks in. Should have tipped you off about my presence and you shouldn't have been surprised that I knew."

Peter narrowed his eyes at him. "You're not human. You only said you knew because you were in a pack, you didn't say that you were non-human too, Stiles."

A casual shrug, and Stiles pulled one leg up against his chest, resting his arm on it. "See, now I know you don't have wards because you seriously don't know I'm not human."

"What are you?" Lydia was giving him the same look as Peter now.

"Rude question to ask," Stiles shrugged. "You didn't disclose that you're non-human and a non-wolf either, Lydia. I don't see how I owe you my nature."

"He's right," Chris' voice was sharp and he shot both Lydia and Peter a look. "He's your employee and coworker, he has a right to share this only if he is comfortable."

Stiles beamed at Chris at that, genuinely beamed. How long had it been since someone defended him? Much less defended his right to make decisions about and for himself. Damn, that was sad.

"You don't have to answer me either," Stiles offered after a moment, looking at Peter. "It's just, your husband asked what's bothering me and… the lack of wards is bothering me. But you don't owe me a reason or explanation. It just. It's the thing that's bothering me, that's all. Your pack is a big enough size to constitute an Emissary who should be behind these things."

His eyes involuntarily landed on Chris. That had been his running theory for the past week. Either Chris or Lydia were the Emissary of the Hale Pack, because neither of them were wolves. They scent-marked but they did it in a clear way that was learned behavior, not instinct.

Peter's sneer drew his attention. "Our pack doesn't have an Emissary. Let's say… I have made bad experiences with that in the past and I'm not trusting potential incompetence with my pack."

For a moment, Stiles processed that and then it sank in and made him snort out a laugh. Because yeah. Incompetent and untrustworthy Emissaries, like Alan Deaton. He froze the moment the name crossed his mind, his eyes landing on Peter. His heart-rate picked up rapidly and his eyes widened as the pieces that had been right in front of him slotted together.

His reaction was obvious not just to the wolves and now everyone was staring intensely at him, most of them with something akin to concern, but all Stiles could do was stare at Peter.

"You're Peter Hale," Stiles whispered stunned.

"Are… Are you having a stroke, darling?"

The words could have been sarcastic, but Peter's voice was genuinely worried and okay yeah maybe Stiles must look like he was having some kind of episode there, sitting frozen and staring at him with his heart racing, stating a very obvious fact he had been aware of for a whole fucking week. His head snapped over to Derek and Cora, his mouth falling open.

"You're Derek and Cora Hale," Stiles hissed, pointing at Cora. "That's why you look so damn familiar! Fuck. Fucking elementary school. And you! I remember you, with your stupid basketball, thinking you look so cool when dropping Cora off for class, like you were all that."

Stiles narrowed his eyes at Derek. The stupid middle-schooler with his stupid basketball and talented hands. All the girls in his class always giggled whenever he'd dropped his sister off. Stiles slowly looked around when he realized that it had gotten eerily quiet. All eyes on him.

Not that Stiles had time to focus on them – on the Hale Pack, fuck – no, Stiles was too deep in his head. This couldn't be real. They were alive. They were actually alive. Stiles clasped a hand over his mouth, his eyes widening in horror when other things started coming together. The horror was directly followed by a hollow, dark and ugly laugh as he felt like reality was slipping from him. He started pressing his thumbs hard against the pads of his fingers, one by one, counting his fingers, counting that this was real, checking that this wasn't a trick of his mind.

"I ran all the fucking way across the ocean to escape that fucking hell-hole and I end up with the last survivors of the Hale Pack," Stiles muttered to himself. "This can absolutely not be real. This isn't real. This must be in my head. There's no way. I worked too damn hard to get out, I can't-"

He couldn't breath anymore, everything was spinning, his chest felt too tight and his lungs couldn't fill and his eyes were unfocused and why wasn't there enough air in the room-?

"Stiles," Chris' voice was sharp and firm, jolting him into a semblance of focus. "I need you to slow down your breathing, you're having a panic-attack. Can you breath in deep and hold, like this?"

When had Chris gotten up and walked around the table? Why was he kneeling in front of Stiles now, holding him by the arms, talking to him? Stiles took a shuddering breath but it wasn't enough, it just wasn't enough, why did his chest feel like it couldn't take any more air in? A sob wrecked his body and he doubled over. He was losing it, again. Maybe he never had it, maybe everything had been a trick from the Nogitsune, him and Isaac getting out, getting a new start, maybe he was still stuck in Beacon Hills, had never gotten out, never gotten his mind back.

"I can't go back, I can't go back," Stiles sobbed, shaking his head. "I can't-"

"Breath," Chris instructed, a clear command. "Stop thinking and just breath with me."

It took longer, Stiles didn't know how long – didn't want to know how long – for him to regain his bearings and when he did, he blearily looked around. He was comfy and warm and felt oddly safe. Which was not exactly how the aftermath of his panic-attacks usually went. They weren't at the table anymore. They were on the ground. Chris was on the ground. Stiles was on Chris. On Chris' lap, to be exact. The older man had his arms around Stiles, was holding him close. Peter sat next to them, a grounding hand in Stiles' neck. The rest of the pack was also sitting on the ground, around them in a circle. It looked nearly protective, like something they'd do to shield a vulnerable pack-member. Stiles liked that sentiment, even though he knew it was probably about their Alphas.

"Fuck," Stiles rubbed his face. "Second week on the job and I have a panic-attack in front of my boss and somehow end up in his husband's lap. Great going, Stilinski."

"Stiles," Peter's voice was surprisingly soft. "You don't need to be ashamed of having a panic-attack and you're in Christopher's lap because you only started calming down once you were held down. The restriction seemed to make you feel grounded."

"Oh," Stiles blinked sluggishly. "Okay."

"You will have to explain yourself though," Peter raised his eyebrows at him. "How you recognized us and why… why that sent you into a panic-attack."

Stiles still rubbed at the tear-streaks on his cheeks, feeling so, so tired. Too tired to argue or fight or storm out. Even though he probably should. His instincts were in conflict. Some of them told him to run, grab Isaac and run even further, as far away as possible. But other instincts, instincts he hadn't indulged in in literal years at this point, told him that he was safe and that he should never get up from the safe comfort of Chris' lap. Sighing, Stiles rested his cheek against Chris' shoulder.

"I worked so hard to leave Beacon Hills behind, to leave your family's legacy behind and I somehow manage to run into your family, of all people," Stiles muttered frustrated. "Cora and I went to elementary school together. Pretty sure I said that before my freakout."

"Stiles," Cora tilted her head with a frown. "Oh, you were the loud kid who always was glued to the side of that quiet, shy kid that always wheezed during recess."

Stiles couldn't help but flinch at the reminder of Scott, of back when Scott had still been his best friend, his other half, when they used to be inseparable. Tears welled in his eyes again. The reminder of Scott usually didn't make him cry anymore, but he was still raw from the aftermath of his panic-attack. A gentle hand wiped his tears away and he turned to look at Peter.

"What do you mean you were running from our family's legacy," Peter wanted to know.

He sounded much more patient than he should, honestly. How had he not threatened to just rip Stiles' throat out at this point. Stiles would identify himself as a threat to his pack, if he were Peter. Bitterness overtook him as Peter's question really sank in. He curled together, making himself small on Chris' lap, absolutely not caring that he was still sitting there. As long as Chris wasn't going to push him off, Stiles was absolutely not giving up the first safe place he'd been in in years.

"I told you I was part of a pack," Stiles' voice felt hallow even to himself. "That was back in Beacon Hills. But you know what happened when there was a new pack in Beacon Hills?"

Rhetoric question, they probably didn't. Nobody spoke or interrupted him. Or pushed him to explain faster. Why were they being so patient. Nobody was patient with Stiles. Aside from Isaac.

"The people who tried to kill your entire family came back to finish the job, because surely an Alpha in Beacon Hills meant that the survivors of the Hale Pack had returned to reclaim their territory," Stiles felt oddly dead inside as he remembered those early days.

"The people…" Peter's voice wavered and he looked at Stiles, past Stiles.

"The Argents," Stiles snarled, curling tighter, pressing a hand against his shoulder. "Kate came to finish the job she'd started. Hunted us like animals for months."

Peter noticed the way Stiles' fingers clawed into his own shoulder. Curiosity got the better of the Alpha and he unbuttoned Stiles' shirt enough to push it aside and see what Stiles was holding onto.

"That's a gun-shot wound," Peter pointed out, voice dark.

"Yeah, heard the part where I said 'hunted us like animals'? I was being very literal there. She chased us through the preserver, trying to shoot us all down," Stiles turned his head away from Peter, instead burying his face in Chris' chest. "Ironically, she was only the start of our problems."

He noticed how stiff Chris had gone, completely rigid beneath Stiles. Right. All of this was his husband's trauma, Chris was probably worried about his mate. Well, as long as Chris wasn't going to push him off, Stiles was very selfishly not getting off his lap because it was his trauma too. If he wanted to comfort his mate, he'd first have to physically remove Stiles himself.

"She's in prison," Stiles noted belatedly, looking at Peter, Derek and Cora. "For mass murder and grand arson. My dad… My dad was the sheriff at the time, he put her behind bars. Well. We put her behind bars. He didn't know about the supernatural back then. And I was feeling petty. Because my Alpha didn't find murder a sufficient method of getting rid of a threat, even if that threat kept fucking shooting us with wolfsbane bullets – which, fyi, hurt like a bitch even if you're not a werewolf. Fun fact there. So I had to get more creative to get rid of her. And her… obsession with the Hales was… well, it set me on the right course. I just needed to get all the evidence and bahm."

If he'd have more energy, he would have added jazz-hands for effect there. As it stood, he just wanted to go to sleep. Chris was very comfy, even though he was still rigid as steel. He tucked his hand under his ribs, pressing against them hard, balling a fist in the expensive fabric of his shirt.

"Daddy dearest wasn't a fan of his deranged daughter going to prison for killing werewolves," Stiles continued, too tired to stop, too raw to stop. "Gerard Argent came to town a couple months later and he was hell-bent on revenge. You should have seen his fucking face when he realized a fifteen year old wise-ass brat had gotten his daughter convicted."

"You were how old," Derek's voice was a distressed growl.

A tired half-shrug. "Yeah. Childhood in Beacon Hills. Rainbows, sunshine, kittens and murderous hunters all inclusive. He was a better hunter than his daughter though. She was wild, unhinged, lashing out. He was precise, direct, effective. Captured us. Held us captive for days. Couldn't believe that a bunch of kids had outsmarted the great Argent family, was so damn sure there was a Hale somewhere pulling the strings. Tried torturing your location out of us."

His knuckles were white with how hard he was grabbing his shirt, effectively pulling it out of the confines of his pants. Peter's hand was gentle when it grabbed his, but Stiles didn't move.

"Kicked in my ribs," Stiles muttered in a detached voice. "Punctured my lungs. Nearly killed me. Makes my panic-attacks all the more fun because being unable to breath is just another trigger, so it's like a spiral from one panic into the next. Fun times for Stiles."

He just wanted to sleep. He knew he couldn't. Shouldn't. Thinking about the Nogitsune only meant he was going to have horrible nightmares and most likely another panic attack. But in all fairness, how likely was it that he ran into the Hales in fucking London? Of course did that seem unreal.

"Stiles, that's horrible," Lydia looked genuinely devastated.

Erica and Boyd were clinging onto each other, looking at him with horror and pity. Erica had grown attached to him quickly, she probably made her mate second-hand-attached to him. Poor Boyd.

"Yeah, those were the easy times," Stiles stated dryly. "Things got worse from thereon out. That's why we got out. As far away from that hell-hole. But you get it now? That your family legacy's been one of the things I ran away from? And that seeing you here is… it feels unreal."

"I… do understand that," Peter frowned at him so softly, so worried. "I'm sorry."

"Fuck," Stiles heaved a sigh. "It's not your fucking fault. That's not. I didn't mean it like that. I don't blame you for the deranged hunters who were trying to murder you! I'm just… I always thought you were dead, I thought she was just being a paranoid bitch. Honestly, this actually makes the getting tortured to give up your location bit feel a little better, because hey, you actually were alive. It was really annoying when I thought I was getting tortured for nothing, you know."

"You absolutely need to stop being so glib about this," Jackson said, sounding a little nauseous.

"Sarcasm is how I cope," Stiles drawled, giving him a deadpan expression.

There was a silent conversation happening over his head, between Chris and Peter. Stiles was too exhausted to pay closer attention to it or try to decipher it. He just closed his eyes. A nap sounded good. His eyes snapped open and he bolted up. Nope. No sleeping after a panic-attack.

"Stiles…?" Allison asked in a near small voice. "Are you… alright?"

"Yeah, no," Stiles shook his head. "Got too tired there for a moment."

"Maybe you should go and lay down," Peter suggested gently.

"No," Stiles' voice was sharp. "Can't. Can't sleep after a panic attack. There are only worse panic attacks waiting for me in that direction. What I need to do is keep my mind occupied and get it exhausted enough so I might actually maybe sleep tonight."

"That doesn't sound healthy," Derek pointed out, impressive eyebrows furrowed.

"Never claimed it was," Stiles shrugged. "But it's been working for me for years now. Also, after all the soul-bearing I just did, I'd… really like to get out of here. So, please. Just. Give me something to do, Alpha. I need something to do."

There was a flash of red eyes at Stiles' unintentional use of the title. Stiles swallowed hard. Damn, that looked hot on Peter Hale. No. Nope. Not getting attracted to his hot, married boss.

"Fine," Peter heaved a sigh. "I'll text you the next few errands I have for you."

/break\

After that day at the café, Peter felt an irrationally strong sense of protectiveness over Stiles. The boy had suffered for the Hale Pack, without even being part of it. And when he had barely been a pup – fifteen years old, being hunted by the Argents. He kept an extra eye on Stiles, made sure that when he sent the boy out on an errant, he could be sure at least one pack member would be close by to watch over Stiles. And Peter was very pleased that his pack didn't even have to be commanded to do so. No, after the way Stiles had broken down, they were all attached to him.

"Stiles," Peter smiled pleased when the boy walked into the office. "Come here. Sit."

Stiles stared at him with suspicion and confusion. "Did… I forget to book a luncheon for you, sir?"

Peter had a table set with rumpsteak, green beans and roasted potatoes, two glasses of wine. "No. Come and eat with me, I didn't feel like eating alone today and Christopher is busy."

Stiles looked wary for another moment before he shrugged and then just plopped down opposite him. "I am not saying no to a free meal. We've had ramen for the past three nights."

"Why," Peter made a disturbed face.

"...Because we don't have money?" Stiles gave him a pointed look. "I only started working for you three weeks ago, not like I got my first paycheck yet? So we're still living off the rest of my waiter paychecks. And those, you know, not that much."

"You keep saying 'we'," Peter narrowed his eyes, latching onto that.

Stiles actually froze at that, looking caught. "Yes."

"Who is we?" Peter asked more directly, rolling his eyes. "You don't talk a lot about yourself. Outside of… what you told us last week at the café."

"I… live with," Stiles paused tentatively. "Someone."

Peter tilted his head, so very intrigued. He was addicted to this boy, he needed to learn more about Stiles, wanted to learn everything there was about him. What did 'someone' mean? The way he said it, it was a loaded word. A romantic partner? His wolf growled deeply displeased by that.

"Are they… in the know?" Peter asked tentatively.

More reluctance, before Stiles nodded. "I was… I mean, it's only been three weeks. But I've noticed the way your pack's been stalking me. So I was… thinking of… I wanted to ask you if he could… meet the pack. I like your pack. It might be… good for him."

Him. Peter's wolf grew more agitated. He knew Stiles was gay. Was this a boyfriend? Did Stiles have a werewolf boyfriend? It was terrifying how attached his wolf was to the boy, how attached he was to the boy. But at this point, Peter fully considered Stiles his.

"Friday night, why don't you and that… friend… of yours come over to our den for pack dinner? He has a chance to meet everyone and the pack would love to have you over."

Stiles stuffed his face with beans and Peter's thoughts wandered somewhere else entirely at the way Stiles' cheeks bulged. He could imagine stuffing his cock between those pink lips, stuffing him, having those beautiful doe-eyes stare up at him while the boy was on his knees for Peter. Mh. What a delicious mental picture. He offered a lazy, pleased smile at the thought.

"Okay," Stiles shrugged. "I'm also noting the way you fully did not react to your betas stalking me. Just, so you know. I noticed that. Which makes me think it's Alpha sanctioned."

Peter's smile was all teeth, maybe some fangs. "I just watch out for what's mine."

Stiles choked on the beans, coughing violently, before Peter continued. "And you're my secretary."

[destructivisms]

The Boys X Brazilian Music

headcanoning the music tastes of the boys characters with brazilian music! because i am brazilian and have decided to make that everyone's problem. shout-out to my best friend who does not have tumblr and thought of half of these. most of the artist names have links to songs!

includes the boys and assorted other characters that we had ideas for.

BILLY BUTCHER

Butcher listens to punk rock, the revolting bastard, and the language won't make much of a difference — he'd love the Brazilian punk bands with a history of dirty lyrics and censorship such as Plebe Rude, Os Replicantes, Inocentes. However, as with the Spice Girls, he knows a powerful pop teamup when he sees one...

HUGHIE CAMPBELL

He's a classic rock/pop guy, 80s stuff, so he's bingo-ing all the standard "plays on the radio" bands — Legião Urbana, Paralamas do Sucesso, Barão Vermelho... He cries to Epitáfio by Titãs and 100% has dedicated Tarde Vazia by Ira! to Annie.

M.M.

Undoubtedly our family man loves a good pagode — a subgenre of Brazilian samba that comes from a community celebration with food, music, dance, and drinks. He'll go out to dance with Monique to Turma do Pagode and Grupo Revelação's hits. Also, as a fan of rap and Black protest music, M.M. would be really into fundamental Brazilian rap artists such as Racionais MCs that denounce racism and political violence.

FRENCHIE

This guy canonically listens to French trap/rap so there's no doubt he'd get hooked on artists such as Matuê and Teto. However I also feel like he'd be into psychedelic rock and its trippy guitar riffs — which leads us to artists like Raul Seixas, Os Mutantes, and O Padre dos Balões (will never pass on an opportunity to recommend my favorite small band). He'd also listen to Mamonas Assassinas because I think so.

KIMIKO

She has a soft spot for classic musicals, jazz standards, and slow ballads — the samba and bossa nova classics would be a gold mine, from Cartola to Chico Buarque, João Gilberto and Tom Jobim. She'd be obsessed with Carmem Miranda! And I can also see her falling in love with Elis Regina and Marisa Monte's voice. I can also see her jamming to 80s pop that sticks to your head — A Fórmula do Amor by Léo Jaime and Kid Abelha jumped immediately to my head (and it's been there since, send help).

ANNIE JANUARY

Annie is the type to have grown up listening to sertanejo — a very popular genre of Brazilian country music. The classic duos, such as Chitãozinho & Chororó, and especially the movement of female-centered sertanejo led by artists like Marília Mendonça and Maiara & Maraísa. However she probably stopped following these artists around 2019, so anything newer than that (like Ana Castela) "doesn't sound right" and takes her on an angry rant.

BONUS:

THE DEEP

Unironically listens to O Sol by Vitor Kley while staring at the sunset. Firmly against Mestre Jonas by Sá, Rodrix & Guarabyra because that is whale abuse.

ASHLEY

Unironically listens to Manu Gavassi looking at the mirror and thinking "literally me."

HOMELANDER

This one song on loop.

[werothegreat]

Shimmering Skies

More stuff! So much! Let's go with important things

Of course we have HeiHei. He is here, he is good boy.

Naveen is insane. Play this 4 drop Singer with a decent statline and oh yeah also play Grab Your Sword or A Whole New World or Along Came Zeus for free. Nutty.

Keyword is just Support (meh) but he costs 1 less for each item in play. This will see play in item decks and he might be scary.

This is just shiftable worse Don Karnage, but the art is fantastic.

He also gets a gorgeous Enchanted, which he deserves, just look at him.

Ward, shift 3, gets +1 lore pip for each other The Queen you have in play. This gets more interesting with:

Ward, when you play her, look at the top 3 cards of your deck, put any The Queens from them in your hand, bottom deck the rest. I'm not sure why The Queen is Spiderman meme-ing, but I am intrigued, let's see what this gaggle of girlbosses gets done.

First printed 5-lore character! Gonna be real hard to actually get her on the board, but still love the symmetry of a 5/5/5 for 5.

She's also the prize for store championships next set, with gorgeous art.

Honestly decent statline for a Reckless character, and very flavorful. Give me more bird Arthur!

Ehehe. Forgive me a cru-el chuckle.

WHOSE LIES WERE TOO GOOD TO LAST sorry don't know what came over me. Maybe play in a Puppy deck? Would be amazing if this were in Broom colors but right now there isn't really any (competitive) name-typal deck in Amber.

Obviously intended to bounce his cousin we just saw, but I could see him in a Blurple items deck running him as an extra Tamatoa or Belle.

Welp, Amethyst had to get a good card eventually. Shift 4, when played, exert all opposing characters. This might see play in Amethyst/Ruby, but I think Amethyst/Sapphire might be a more likely candidate, since those colors like a board wipe.

I LOVE HER AND NEED A PLAYSET. Shift 5, at the end of your turn, choose an opponent, if they have more cards in hand than you, draw until you have the same. This is very good card draw, especially against Amethyst decks, and if you can get her out quickly enough, you can get around discard decks as well.

Shift 4, when played, banish an item or location. Notable mostly for being Simba's first Floodborn, he is not going to replace Benja or Aladdin - Brave Rescuer anytime soon, and Steel already has so many ways to get rid of locations.

The passive is nifty, but I don't understand why they keep giving Challenger to higher lore characters. He dies to Brawl, for fuck's sake. Most notable for the story beat, I guess we have different villains trying to fill in the power vacuum left by Ursula?

So first off this is Brainstorm in Lorcana, which will likely see play, second Basil gets hypnotized by Jafar, which is interesting, and third I really hope this means we get a Basil Floodborn in Emerald, and a good one this time!

Here, have 4 extra copies of Mufasa - Betrayed Leader. Also does this mean we're getting a new Mother Gothel card?

I want to like this card, but he dies to Brawl and Daring Visitor, and if your first and second turns are just playing an item and a location and Pacha is your first character, you have just forfeited any board control.

This one is interesting. I like the flexibility, and it's cool that Emerald has been getting these "kicker" cards this set, but the uninkability does hurt her a bit. She may still see play just for how much she can do, though.

lol

[andyouweremine]

I am very slowly making my way through a rewatch of Season 1 of Arrow and listen, nothing gives pure Olicity like this season. I don't care if they kiss or hug in other seasons, nothing is as pure or as close to the actual dynamic of their relationship that I wanted to see as Season One and there are some good reasons for this:

(1) Writers are still like 99% sure that they are going to stick with the spin cycle Laurel/Oliver relationship through the end of the series. Felicity as a character is Not A Thing. She's there to help facilitate plot points and make the audience laugh.

(This is not a slight on Felicity; she is not a real person--she's a character and the fact that thanks to EBR she's actually doing more than the writers need her to do is incredible. More so the fact that she does in-fact upstage the Official Comic Book Love Interest who is just not vibe-ing with the lead in the way they need to but I DIGRESS. Her function in the narrative is to provide tech help to move the story-of-the-week along, and do some heftier plot work with helping Walter and later giving Oliver his Mom's Copy Of The List (TM). Characters are allowed to be narrative tools. That's literally how story-crafting works, and I personally think it's something beautiful when a character who initially exists to do some narrative lifting ends up being incredibly beloved by fans and writers and therefore promoted and fleshed out beyond their initial conception. EBR and Stephen and some very cute episode 3 writing made Felicity. I DIGRESS AGAIN.)

(2) Felicity connects with the audience because she makes us smile the same way she makes Oliver smile, which is almost against our better judgement and kind of by accident. We like her because she's insanely likeable, and Oliver likes her for the same reasons. Enough to keep going back to her when I'm sure that Queen Consolidated has more than a one-woman IT department, and he could probably have reduced suspicion by going to someone else another week rather than literally give Felicity all the clues to figure out his identity. But he goes back to her again and again because he's in this perpetual darkness post-island and she's a literal ray of color and light. I will also say that costuming and hair and make-up for Felicity is absolutely top-tier this season, it never gets better than this. She's professional and colorful and I love the bright lipstick and ponytail of curls. I don't completely have an explanation for why her style alters so dramatically post season 1 other than Whoops She's A Female Lead Now and we Are The CW so she needs to be wearing Fashion and not Panda Bear shoes.

(3) She's not supposed to be a love interest, literally not the point of her character at all. So when the writers actually start deviating from The Plan and pulling her more and more into the story, her relationship with Oliver is portrayed as this genuine burgeoning friendship as they learn to trust and rely on each other. Honestly my favorite Oliver/Felicity scene of ALL TIME is still in Big Belly Burger when she brings him Walter's copy of the notebook. "I'm not an idiot; you've dropped some pretty big lies on me, and yet I still feel like I can trust you." idk, I love it. You can pry it out of my cold dead hands. THIS is the best moment of this ship hands down and again I will die on this hill.

(4) There's such a stark difference in how Felicity and Oliver have important conversations after season one. Season two is okay, but by the time we hit Season three the big differences are starting to show. Compare, simple things like "I still feel like I can trust you" or "If you're not leaving, I'm not leaving" to the dramatic "I don't want to be a woman you love" or "Then say never. Stop dangling maybes." or literally my least favorite line in all of television "You opened up my heart in a way I didn't even know was possible."

(I SWEAR TO GOD, "I don't want to be a woman you love" was initially written for Laurel to say. I have no proof of this, but once you think about it it's such a Laurel/Oliver line. I would bet money it was sitting on a whiteboard for three seasons and the writers just couldn't get over how much they liked it so they had Felicity say it.)

(5) Oliver and Felicity's relationship is actually healthier in season one? I don't care that he's lying to her about the laptop or the syringe of vertigo or the arrow or the flash drive, she knows and she's choosing to press him carefully on all of those things without pushing too hard. (This is important because Moira and Tommy and Laurel and Thea and even Diggle are pressing Oliver super hard to open up in literally every other scene, but he's just not responding to them. Felicity lets it go. These look like bullet holes? Opens the laptop anyway. Flash drive has insanely high encryption for a scavenger hunt? Okay, she'll give the info anyway. They become friends-- to the point where a shot and bleeding Oliver goes to Felicity because he does actually trust her.)

Season One Olicity was the Best Olicity don't come at me.

[kainagant]

do u have any thoughts about the kind of hypothetical relationships nagant could've had with other villains ( the league, shie hassaikai, mla, etc) if they had ever been explored in canon?

hey anon, thanks for the ask. the answer to your question is yes, kinda, and not yet. but by the time i am done writing out this post the answer will be yes, yes, and hell yeah.

i have definitely thought about lady nagant's interaction with the lov. mostly because (exposed) i'm a dabihawks shipper and i also subscribe to the fanon that lady nagant and hawks knew each other a little bit more than canon would imply. though i think with kaina's personality she was probably a little bit closed off, even with little keigo, but she was definitely big sister-ing, just from a comfortable emotional distance. anyway au kaina gives dabi the scariest shovel talk he'll ever receive, and all she did was point the barrel of her elbow at him and say "watch yourself".

the other league members think shes cool. mostly. i think there would be preliminary distrust due to her hero status but then they get to know her a bit and discover that she actually has good takes. i think shiggy could appreciate that shes critical of hero society without just regurgitating stain's beliefs. she has her own perspective and firsthand experience to back it up. he mentally adds her grievances to the compiled list of "reasons why the lov are committing unspeakable crimes against humanity, if anyone ever bothers to ask"

(cut for length)

i have kinda thought about kaina's interaction with the shie hassaikai, but mostly through the lens of her and chisaki. honestly the 8pods would be like. she's god. for real. or maybe she's actually the devil. chisaki already fills the god position for them and kaina clearly doesn't fear god (chisaki) so she's just a different beast entirely. basically they are all shocked by how casually and oftentimes brusquely she talks to chisaki. kaina herself is a bit weirded out by the 8pods insane worship of chiskai. "he's just a guy???? he's not even that cool cmon guys what am i missing…" chisaki grumbles "stop telling them that, it took a lot of effort to convince them im god" /j

okay jokes aside i think kaina would sympathize heavily with many of the 8pods downtrodden experiences. i mean she sympathized with chisaki, which not even the paragon of forgiveness and saving everyone (midoriya) was really willing to do. let's be real, for as much as kaina has a cold shell, she's very very gooey and warm on the inside and she sees this ragtag group of wet cats that chisaki scraped off the street, and she adopts them. with her unique brand of acting like she doesn't care when actually her heart aches whenever she thinks about what they went through.

i just want to preface this next part by saying that i'm a little bit biased against the mla. not to say that they're bad characters or that it's wrong to like or enjoy them, but from a personal standpoint i've never found them as compelling as other villains. i mean their motive is like. borrowed from another guy. and maybe if they had personal experiences with quirk discrimination, like toga or tabe, they might be more sympathetic. its not that they don't have a point, its just that its obvious that all of the members have a lot of privilege, and it makes me wonder how well they actually understand what destro wanted for society. also their motive is kinda funky because its a lot more relevant to the time literal decades ago that destro was actually living in. not saying that quirk discrimination isn't a thing in present day canon but like. we see it in the opposite direction that the mla sees it. we see people who are quirkless be treated like they're worthless. and the mla seems to want a society that only reinforces this issue, by assigning value to people based off of their quirks.

this is all to say that (i'm projecting) lady nagant would probably not like the mla that much. even putting aside whether their motives and beliefs are sympathetic or not, i think kaina would see the obvious privilege that they have, the pressed suits and influence and wealth, and be like. damn. did society really hurt you or did it actively benefit you? i also think on an individual level, members like curious and trumpet would irk her. like, btw, i love curious and i think that her being a media piranha makes her interesting, but also kaina would think she's incredibly annoying and invasive. kaina would also aliken trumpet to the hero commission, with his (what is essentially) brainwashing of his followers.

at the same time though, i think kaina has probably carried out hits on people like the mla. and although she may not agree with their ideology, she doesn't think that means they should be silenced. let the people speak, even if she thinks they're insane and wrong. because she believes that people deserve to have the whole, unfiltered truth, and then make their own judgements.

tl;dr on the mla thing. she wouldn't be besties with them, but she wouldn't necessarily hate them or anything. probably just scoff whenever they try to talk to her. like ok, re-destro, whatever you say (internally thinks he's stupid).

a more light hearted headcanon could be curious hounding kaina for the "untold story of the treacherous hero" etc etc. they develop an unfriendly rivalry in that kaina spends a lot of time trying to avoid curious and curious spends a lot of time hunting her down. maybe they have hate sex. this sounds like the plot for a crazy enemies to lovers slow burn rarepair nagacurious that i will not be writing. but yeah that could happen. maybe even throw curious character development in for flavor. i mean it starts out with curious relentlessly pursuing lady nagant, it evolves into "ok my interest in you has evolved from just pure journalism and now i'd like to kiss you and go on dates" and at some point lady nagant actually explains her tragic backstory, and the character growth moment is curious not betraying kaina's trust, and actually keeping the juicy details to herself. to reiterate delusional: i will not be writing this fic.

anyway thanks so much for the ask, anon. most of this was like. crack taken seriously and definitely in an au, but yeah. i love thinking about lady nagant, and i really enjoyed considering how she might mesh with the other villains in the series.