#to entertain my cat up in her tower

[tendercoretroglodyke]

how to explain plato's allegory of the cave to your cat

[georgie-weasley]

Spontaneous G.W. x Reader

Warnings: one swear word

Word Count: 3k

Pairing: George Weasley x Reader

Summary: You were rich, pretty, smart, and everything George wasn't. According to George, you were untouchable. He admires you from afar until he learns that you are human, just like him

Masterlist

“I think you’ve got enough strawberries George.” Fred laughed, waving his hand in front of George’s face. George blinked, coming out of a trance to finally tear his eyes away from the girl that had him captivated and look at his plate. He had about 15 strawberries dangerously stacked next to his toast and waffles. Ten minutes ago he had been starving, ready to eat Fred if he had to until you walked in, laughing with your friends. He didn’t even see you at first since he was so preoccupied picking out his breakfast but he heard you. Someone must have said something hilarious because your laugh seemed to echo around the Great Hall, bombarding George from all angles. He loved it. Your laugh sounded like the crescendo in a song, taking his breath away. He had been red in the face and sweaty before he even saw you. When he finally did look at you, it was all over. You moved so gracefully, you could have been floating. George watched you talk with your friends and when he saw your smile, he forgot all about his grumbling stomach.

Fred turned to look over his shoulder and when he caught sight of you, he rolled his eyes and turned back to his brother. “Here’s an idea Georgie,” Fred grumbled, “stop staring at her and go talk to her.”

“Yeah mate, it’s weird. I’m uncomfortable for her.” Lee Jordan chimed in, reaching across the table to grab some toast.

“I will have you know I have talked to her.” George huffed, carefully dismantling Strawberry Tower, moving the discarded ones onto Lee’s plate.

“Talking about the weather doesn’t count.” Lee snorted, happily eating the food now added to his plate. George opened his mouth to retort but Lee continued. “Neither does telling her good morning or asking her about the homework.”

“Or apologizing when you ‘accidentally’ bump into her in the halls.”

George glared and threw a strawberry, aiming for Fred’s nose. Much to his disappointment, Fred ducked and the strawberry rolled away. “I have talked to her. Small talk counts as talking if you didn’t know.”

Lee rolled his eyes. “Sure but you’ve been in love with her since third year. Small talk isn’t going to make her fall for you. Just go up to her and tell her you’re in love with her and hope she feels the same. If she doesn’t,” Lee shrugged, “at least you know.”

“That is the stupidest thing you have ever said Lee. And you once asked McGonagall if she licks herself clean when she’s a cat.” The three boys shuddered at the memory. “I’ll talk to her about something normal. Something that will make her want to keep talking to me.”

---

“Do you ever wonder if McGonagall licks herself clean when she’s a cat?” George stood in front of you, hands sweating and his eyes going wide as he realized what just came out of his mouth. Something normal indeed.

“Pardon?” You cocked your head to the side, watching George with those beautiful eyes he could spend forever staring into.

“I just mean that maybe she acts like a cat does and that’s how they bathe. So maybe she…” He trailed off, hearing the giggles coming from your friends behind you. “Sorry, that was… weird.”

You smiled and George could feel his heart stop. He was going into cardiac arrest, he just knew it. “A little but a very good question all the same.”

He died. There was no way he was alive. The real you would have never even entertained his question, let alone call it a good one. He stared at you with wide eyes, his mouth hanging open. He should say something, something smooth. If he could just lay on the charm like Fred does so well, you’d be putty in his hands. “Do you think that means she goes to the bathroom in a box?” Oh. My. God.

George spun on his heel and took off sprinting down the hall. He was the biggest idiot on the planet.

George lay in his bed, hands covering his face as Fred and Lee practically rolled on the floor with laughter. “So you– I mean you really asked her if McGonagall uses… a box?” Lee burst into another fit of giggles as Fred gasped for air. “George, I think you did it mate. I think she’s in love with you now.”

A scarf came flying from the bed, landing harmlessly on Lee. “I hate both of you!” George grabbed his pillow, burying his face in it. The laughter died down and once the other two felt they could talk without falling into another laughing fit, they climbed onto his bed.

“George, you’ve never had this much trouble talking to a girl before. You’ve always been pretty smooth. Not like me but you have never struggled to talk to anyone. Why is she so different?” Fred grabbed the pillow, making sure his twin was still breathing.

“Why is she different? Have you not seen her, Fred?” George sat up, looking at his hands. “First of all she’s gorgeous. Ethereal. Stunning. All that and more. She’s funny. I’ve heard her make a few jokes and they’re great; some of them are almost as good as ours. She’s smart and talented and nice and just perfect. That’s the problem.” He sighed and glanced at his brother and friend, glad to see they were now taking him seriously. “She’s from this really well off family. Her parents are both ministry workers but not like dad, they have important jobs. Her family has been full of powerful witches and wizards for centuries but they have never acted like others are less than. I heard she’s been ballroom dancing since she was seven. Her family is rich. She's a lady and I’m just…George Weasley. She would never want to talk to me. Or date me for that matter.”

This had not been the first time George or any of the other Weasley boys had felt less than because of what they didn’t have. George had never seen your house but he assumed it was big enough to fit the Burrow inside it at least three times. He knew your family had money. Meanwhile the Weasleys were just scraping by. You were the kind of girl that should have been a princess while George was nothing more than a stable boy. Not even the court jester because a jester would have to be able to speak to you.

“George, you aren’t giving her a chance to give you a chance. You’re making her seem untouchable. She’s human too.” Fred patted him on the back and smiled. “I say, tomorrow you talk to her, like a person. Talk to her like you talk to me.”

“So I should call her a stupid git?” George smirked before getting a pillow to the face.

---

Today was Saturday and just as he had promised, George was going to talk to Y/N. He just had to find her. He checked out the Great Hall and there was no sign of you. Then he checked out any open classrooms he could find and you weren’t there either. He went to the library and had no luck. In fact, he was kicked out for yelling your name while looking for you. By this time, George was exhausted and sure his legs would fall off any minute if he didn’t sit down soon. The lake was close enough that he could kill two birds with one stone; he could look for you and take a break before his lack of legs would make it very easy to tell the difference between him and Fred. As luck would have it, he spotted you sitting under a tree not too far from the edge of the lake. His heart willed him to move toward you but his brain kept his feet firmly planted. This was stupid. He should leave you alone and move on to find some girl that would make more sense. Someone that was not out of his league. At some point, his heart convinced his brain to start walking toward you. The first thing he noticed was the letter in your hand and the next thing he saw were the tears on your cheeks. Yikes. Just back away slowly Georgie, he thought to himself. Take small, quiet steps and you can sneak away before—

“George?”

Shit. He plastered on his best smile and tried to pretend like you weren’t crying right in front of him. “Hey there Y/N. How are you? Probably not great considering the… crying.” George closed his eyes, mentally slamming his head on the nearest tree. It was honestly amazing how great he was at screwing up. He should be given some kind of award. “I’m so sorry. I just walked over and saw you crying and I don’t know what to do with crying people and I’m really nervous to screw up here.” Neither spoke for a minute as you looked up at him. Seeing your usually sparking eyes filled with tears broke his heart, shattered it actually. All he wanted to do was take you in his arms and make it all better. Just talk to her like a person.

Slowly, George approached you, afraid you would take off running or yell at him. When you made no move to sprint away, he sat next to you. “I’m sorry. You make me really nervous but I’m a good listener. Do you want to talk about what’s wrong?”

You were silent for a long time but he didn’t dare move or talk. Honestly, he didn’t think you would tell him what was wrong because why would you? Fred and Lee were right. He had only ever had small talk with you.

“It’s my parents.” Your voice was so soft George almost didn’t hear you. Oh. George nodded in what he hoped was an encouraging way. “You know they’re in the ministry right?” Boy did he know. George had heard from his father about your parents. Your father was part of the Wizengamot, the part of the ministry that makes laws and holds trials. He was a big name in the ministry. Your mother was part of the Department of International Magic Co-Operation. Her whole job involved getting wizards and witches in other countries to work together. She played a big part in getting Durmstrang and Beauxbatons to come to Hogwarts this year for the Tri-Wizard Tournament. George’s father was also in the ministry but his job was practically the least important position there was. He spent his days finding Muggle items that had been tampered with and reporting them, even if he committed the same crime in his free time. He didn’t make much money at all and it left the family of nine struggling.

“Yeah, my dad has mentioned them a few times.” He tried not to sound bitter as he answered you but it was hard not to.

“They want me to join the ministry when I graduate. They made sure my grades were perfect and after taking my O.W.L.s, they hand picked my classes and set me on the path to join the ministry. My mother even signed me up for a summer program at the ministry just so I have a better chance at joining.” You took a deep breath and looked over at George. You had fresh tears in your eyes as you continued. “I don’t want to join the ministry. They have such high expectations of me and I don’t want to let them down but I don’t want to be in the ministry.”

“What do you want to do?” George understood where you were coming from. Him and Fred had plans and dreams to open a joke shop, something their mother did not support. She wanted them to finish school and get some boring job like the rest of the wizarding world. They didn’t want to disappoint her either but their happiness had to come first at least sometimes. George and Fred would never be happy sitting behind a desk all day or chasing down bewitched muggle items. They wanted to bring joy and raise up a new generation of delinquents. That was the dream.

“Well,” you started as you turned to look at the lake, “I think I want to be a healer. I’ve always been good at potions and herbology and basic spells used for healing.”

“And your parents don’t want you to do that?” As you shook your head, George scoffed. “Why? I think being a healer is a perfectly respectable job. You aren’t trying to run off and live in a cave for the rest of your life.”

You let out a small laugh and George felt like he was floating. He made you laugh after you had been crying. He could die happy. “I agree with you but they think that working for the ministry is the only job worth having. They just want me to be successful. They’ve spent my whole life preparing me for the future they want me to have. Dance lessons and internships and anything else that makes me into whatever it is they want me to be.”

“Happiness is more important than success. Who says that being happy doesn’t mean you’re successful?” George ran his fingers through the grass. “My mother sounds a lot like your parents. Fred and I want to open up a joke shop. She thinks that we’ll be throwing away our potential if we go ahead with it.”

You looked back at George and watched him closely as he kept his eyes on the ground. He was pretty. He had the warmest brown eyes you had ever had the pleasure of looking at. “I think a joke shop sounds like a wonderful idea. Personally I can’t imagine you or Fred working at the ministry or any normal job for that matter.” George laughed and nodded. “What will you do?”

He thought for a moment, continuing to look at the ground because he knew as soon as he looked at you, he would forget everything. “Fred and I are opening the joke shop when we have the money. I think our mother will be disappointed for a while but we aren’t made to work in an office. Besides, she’s our mother so our happiness should take priority over anything else.”

“I wish I could be like you George. You sound like you have everything.”

He turned his head to look at you so quickly he thought he snapped his neck at first. You thought he had everything? You were jealous of him? “I thought you had everything. A big house, rich parents, grades, popularity. You have everything.”

You shook your head and smiled at him. “Really? I always wanted a big family that would spend time together. You have always seemed so sure of yourself and confident. You don’t let anyone tell you what to do or who to be. George, you’re spontaneous and perfectly you. I wish I could be like that.”

George smiled as your eyes found his and then time stopped. He was distantly aware of the wind rustling the trees and the sounds of other students talking but all he could see was you. Your eyes, drawing him in like a moth to a flame. “Then let’s do something spontaneous.” With great effort, George tore his gaze away from you and looked around. The lake caught his eye. “Come swimming with me.”

He grabbed your hand and stood, pulling you to the lake until you stood at the edge. Without waiting for you, George ran into the water, dressed in jeans and his t-shirt. Behind him, you stood at the bank. Should you be doing this? Probably not but it would make you happy. George made you happy. It was time to put your happiness first. You took off after him, squealing at the cold water. “You didn’t say it was this cold!”

“I didn’t want it to scare you away.” George laughed, cupping his hand to launch water at you. The water slammed into you and with a harmless glare, you retaliated, sending your own wave of water at him. The two of you continued to splash each other until George held up his hands in defeat.

As you both caught your breath, George moved to sit on the bank, the water lapping at his feet. You took a seat next to him and bumped your shoulder against his. “What do you plan to do now?” He asked, bumping you back.

“I’m going to tell my parents I don’t want to be in the ministry. I’ll talk to my head of house about switching some courses around to get on the right path to becoming a healer.”

George smiled. “I’m proud of you.”

He looked at you and you looked at him. George saw you like no one else. He heard you complain about your parents and instead of siding with them, as most people did, he agreed with you. He thought your happiness mattered more than what your parents wanted. “Thank you George.”

“For what?”

“For listening, making me laugh, making me feel… human.” You leaned over and kissed his cheek before standing. “I should go write that letter to my parents. I wouldn’t want to lose all the nerve you gave me.”

George watched you go, his hand coming up to the spot where your lips had touched his cheek. His face turned red as he replayed the kiss over and over again. Fred and Lee were not going to believe this. They were going to kill him if he just let you walk away after that. He clambered to his feet and sprinted after him. “Y/N! Wait!” He waved his arms, trying to get your attention. You stopped in your tracks and looked back at him, watching him chase after you.

“Yes George?”

“I was… Well I was wondering if you’d like to go to Hogsmeade with me next weekend?” He held his breath, waiting for the rejection to come.

“I would love to. I’ll see you later Georgie.” With another kiss to his cheek, you walked off. Next Saturday couldn’t come fast enough.

[writerslittlelibrary]

All assassins need a cat

masterlist

summary: since your rescue from the Red Room you had been living in the tower, and it didn’t take you long to realise that ex-assassins simply need a cat 

pairing: Winterwidow x widow teen reader, Natasha x widow teen reader, Bucky x widow teen reader

warnings: cats

genre: fluff

words: 1602

a/n: I really want a cat, so I figured I'd write something short about it :) 

You do not have my permission to repost, copy or translate my work

 |——————————— ⴵ ———————————|

Living in the Avengers tower had been nothing short of amazing. The people were kind, the food was even better. After living in the Red Room for so long you were overwhelmed with the freedom you were given, and the choices you could make.

You had been in the tower for two months now, and although you liked almost everyone that lived in the tower, you preferred Natasha and Bucky the most. 

They were kind, and because of your shared life experience it was easy to get along with them. They understood you, and there was no pressure in talking to them. You knew that whatever you told them, they would understand. It was comforting. 

However, it didn't take very long before you realised that both Natasha and Bucky owned a cat. 

It happened during a movie night. Natasha and Bucky had sworn to catch you up on all the great movies you missed. While watching the entirety of the Indiana Jones movies, a small, black cat jumped up on the bed, snuggling against Natasha. 

After you asked who the cat was, Natasha explained that she got her after living in the tower for a while. She said it helped her feel better about herself, and her past. 

‘Liho,’ as Natasha told you she was called, took a liking to you rather quickly. It didn't take many movie nights before Liho wasn’t only snuggling on Natasha's lap, but also climbing on yours. 

During breakfast with Natasha and Bucky later that week, you spotted a white cat joining you in the kitchen. It walked up to Bucky and started yelling at him for food. Bucky picked the cat up, snuggling with it for a few seconds before grabbing some food, feeding it. 

“That's Alpine,” Bucky had explained, telling you how he had gotten a cat not long after Natasha did. 

Bucky and Natasha didn't share a floor when they had gotten their cats, but when they moved in together it didn't take long before the cats became friendly with each other. Natasha had told you how you could often find them snuggled up together. 

After meeting both cats, you could often be found cuddling with them. 

When you were sitting in your room, you would leave your door open, allowing the cats to enter whenever they pleased. Often, they would wander into your room, either jumping on your bed or jumping on your lap while you entertained yourself. 

They started following you around the house soon after, always begging for cuddles and kisses. You cheerfully obliged, and it didn't go unmissed by either Bucky or Natasha. 

Natasha had brought up the idea one night, after you had fallen asleep in their room. 

She shared her thoughts with Bucky, discussing how it might be good for you to get a cat of your own. You loved the cats that were already living in the house, and both Natasha and Bucky thought it would be great for you to raise a cat of your own. 

At breakfast a week later Natasha brought it up again.

“How would you feel about getting another cat…?” Natasha asked carefully, bringing up the question casually so as to not make you suspicious. 

“You want another cat?” You asked cheerfully, petting Liho behind her ears as she settled on your lap. 

Natasha nodded. “It might be fun for Liho and Alpine to get another play buddy.”

Bucky nodded along, settling in the seat next to you. 

“Besides, we were thinking, you might like one of your own…” Bucky explained carefully, but your gasp of excitement washed all their worries away. 

“I could get a cat?!” You asked excitedly, watching as Natasha chuckled before nodding. 

“If that’s something that you want,” she explained, sitting into the seat across from you. “I still have the contact information from the same people I bought Liho from. They have another nest and are looking for homes for the kittens,” Natasha told you, biting into her toast.

“We could go have a look if you want,” she finished. 

Another gasp of excitement left your lips. “I could get a kitten? We can go look at kittens?!” you exclaimed happily. 

Natasha and Bucky both nodded, chuckling a bit.

“We can visit today,” Bucky explained. 

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

After finishing your breakfast quickly, you had gotten into the car, heading over to the address that had the kittens. On the way, Natasha told you that the kittens were already old enough to leave the nest, so if there were a kitten that you had a connection with, you would be able to take it home the same day. 

You happily stared out the window, humming along to the song on the radio as your excitement grew. 

Once inside the house, you were practically jumping from excitement, sighing a little when Natasha, Bucky, you, and the other two people sat down at the table to greet each other and catch up. 

Natasha noticed your impatience, grabbing your hand under the table and rubbing soothing circles on it, assuring you that you would get to meet the kittens soon.

After a tedious half hour, the woman finally got up, leading you towards a different room where all the kittens were. 

Once you were finally inside, you gasped in excitement when all the kittens ran towards your legs, playing with your shoelaces.

You went to sit on the ground, smiling as all the kittens started exploring around you, inspecting you. Natasha moved to sit next to you, lifting a kitten into her lap and cuddling with it. 

After playing with the kittens for a little while, you found out that the mother cat was actually one of Liho's siblings, so you would be adopting a cat of Liho’s family. 

You were in the kitten room for about two hours, and you had grown especially close to one little kitten. It was the smallest one, and she was sleepy and shy when you first came in. After about half an hour, she did come over to you, sniffing you for a bit before deciding that you were the perfect place to take a nap. She climbed on your leg and started sleeping. 

“Can we have this one?” you asked Natasha as you carefully petted the young cat's body, allowing her to rest.

“She does really like you,” the woman said, cuddling with the mother cat.

Bucky stood in the corner, observing you and his girlfriend as you had a bonding moment. He loved Natasha more than anything, and you were slowly becoming just as important to him. He loved both of you, and he wanted to give you this moment together. He knew how much it meant to Natasha to be a mother, and he was certain it meant a lot to you as well. 

Natasha nodded excitedly, giving the kitten on your lap a little snuggle.

“I wish we were able to take them all. They are all so cute,” Natasha said as she lifted another kitten from the ground, holding it close to her and giving it some kisses. 

The woman stood up, walking over to Bucky. 

“If you could come with me, I will get you all the medical papers and get everything sorted out.”

Bucky nodded and followed the woman out of the room, leaving you and Natasha to snuggle with the kittens a little longer. 

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

After getting everything sorted you had taken the sleeping kitten into your lap, snuggling with it while you sat on the backseat. 

You were more than happy with your new best friend, and both Natasha and Bucky were more than happy because of the fact you were so happy. You cuddled with the cat a little more before you as well fell asleep.

When you woke up again you were back in the Avengers tower, sleeping on Natasha’s and Bucky's bed while Natasha read a book. 

“Good afternoon my little Malyshka,” she said when she noticed you were awake. She closed her book, setting it aside and brushing some of your hair out of your face. You groaned and blinked a few times before sitting up, noticing the weight that pressed on your legs. Your little kitten was still fast asleep. 

You smiled and reached down to pet her, enjoying the purring she made as she snuggled closer into your hand. 

“Thank you, Natasha,” you said as you looked at her, smiling when she gave you a kiss on your forehead. 

“Anything for you, my little Malyshka,” Natasha said as she cupped your cheeks, giving you another kiss on your nose.

“Leave some snuggles for me,” you heard Bucky say from the door opening, watching as he walked inside and crawled into the bed, on the other side of you. 

You smiled and leaned forward, giving him a little kiss on your cheek. 

Bucky smiled as well. “Thank you little miss,” he said jokingly as he leaned forwards as well, giving you a little kiss on your forehead. 

Your kitten started making some noises, waking up and taking in its surroundings. Once her eyes landed on you, she crawled higher up your legs, settling onto your chest as you leaned against Natasha. It didn't take long before the kitten fell asleep again, enjoying your gentle pets and kisses. 

“Another movie?” Natasha questioned as she observed your state, realising she would not be getting out of the bed for a while.

You nodded happily, snuggling close into her side as she started the movie, stroking your hair. 

“Thank you,” you sighed contently before falling asleep as well, safe in the arms of your found family. 

Permanent tags: @marvelnatasha12346 @lesbionion @nova-kyle @darkstar225 @saraaahsstuff @marvelwomenarehot0 @screechcat @iheartjohansson @tia-thesimp @swaqcenix @karmasgxrl @marvel-lous3000 @n0txn3vee @lorsstar1st

[sorryimdyingrn]

SCAREDY CAT (Severus Snape x FEM! Reader)

Summary: Y/N, Snape's assistant in class is easily scared and tends to overreact when someone creeps up onto her. What's going to happen when Snape decides to do so?

Warnings: Smut, improper use of the Incarcerous spell, Sub Snape, Dom Reader, handjobs, FEM! Reader, idk what else to put there, Idk probably incoherent English in some places.

Oh man I really am doing that. For the last few months I have been bringing myself to this moment trying to put some words together but this is the first time I'm actually succeeding in doing so! I hope you won't cringe to death and excuse my poor English as it's not my first language ❤️

A normal work day. Nothing out of ordinary and nothing signaling the things that were about to happen. The students were acting like students, other Professors doing their job sometimes stopping in their busy tracks to say Good morning and Snape shooting her those weird looks. They weren't hate by any means. They were more like... Fondness??? Who knows. No one really saw Snape looking at someone with fondness so no one could tell.

Y/N calmly stood by one of many desks in classroom, cutting up some Boomslang's skin to fill up a jar in Snape's storage after someone stole it. The swift movements of her wand made a quiet swish, leaving the ingredient cut into perfect strips easily fitting into the jar.

The scene was peaceful, no one to interrupt, no one to say anything and definitely no one to look at the way her hands moved like Snape liked to do while she was doing her job.

Severus Snape... Y/N's thoughts drifted to the dark and broody Potions Master. His cold aura was intimidating and she couldn't lie - if definitely turned her on a bit. Sometimes she liked to imagine how his elegant hands would feel like against her skin, his lips against hers, his dick in her hands as he looked up at her with pleasures in his eyes and him whimpering out her name with-

Y/N shook her head to get rid of the dirty thoughts clouding her mind. The last thing she needed was being horny and distracted right now. She sighed softly and went back to her work.

Snape stood silently in the doorframe, looking at his assistant with a softer gaze. As much as he would rather gnaw his own leg off than admit this, he liked her. He liked her a lot. Her happily glimmering eyes, her soft smile, her figure that he wished to see without clothes... And her voice... Oh her sweet voice that he imagined every night moaning his name and telling him how good he was for her when he palmed his painfully hard erection through his trousers crying out loudly...

An idea popped into his head. A devilish and seemingly at the moment perfect idea. It wasn't unknown that Y/N had a tendency of getting scared at the slightest things and her reactions were quite entertaining. A slight, almost unnoticeable smirk pulled at his lips as he silently closed the door and creeped up behind her. She still stood there unaware of what was about to happen. So happy... So innocent...

Snape raised up his hand slowly and gave her a gentle jab to her side.

Y/N jumped up with a loud shriek.

"SON OF A BITC-"

Without looking at her attacker, she swished her wand aggressively in the air. A black rope shooting out of the air tying Snape up in a rather questionable position, his hand flying out of his sleeve, now laying around a meter away from him. He was on his knees, his hands tied back to his ankles tightly, not allowing him to get up. Well that wasn't the outcome he expected.

Y/N looked down at him annoyed, right now not caring about the situation he was in.

"Not cool man. Not cool. You know I have a weak heart." She said while shaking her head disappointed.

The way she looked down at him sternly... Fuck, the way she stood over him in such a towering and dominating manner while he was on the floor kneeling... Snape shouldn't be enjoying this as much as he did...

He sighed defeated, trying to get rid of the inappropriate thoughts clouding his mind. Why was he into this?

"Yes, yes. That was uncalled for I know." He admitted his fault, shifting slightly with annoyance. "Can you let me go now? It's rather provocative position I'm in." He looked up at her, trying to look stern and cold the best he could.

She just then noticed his position, her eyes taking in his rather embarrassing state. Her finger went up to her chin in a thinking manner.

"Hmmm... No." Y/N replied bluntly and walked up to the door to lock it. "You scared me without thinking about the consequences of your actions, now you have to be punished."

The last sentence made Snape's mind fill up with very VERY inappropriate things. His position, her stern demeanor, locked doors, her talking about a punishment... It all made his thoughts go to a very dirty place, sending a jolt to his already hardening length.

He had to suppress a whimper when he saw her walking back up to the desk to resume her work. His face was on the perfect height to see her ass and thighs in the complete display. The sight making his cock twitch in the confines of his pants that felt wayyyy to tight right now. His eyes were glued to her backside with a needy look. Oh what he would give to touch her beautiful curve right now...

"Please..." He muttered under his breath, knowing that if he would say it louder, his voice would sound desperate and whiny.

Y/N sighed annoyed, her back still turned to him as she moved to bottling other ingredients.

"Can't hear ya. Speak louder if you want me to actually listen." She replied, still not happy about his little prank.

The feeling of his erection was now becoming slightly painful. He felt a bead of precum dampening the material of his boxers. His breath was heavy as he futily tried to control his arousal.

"Please Y/N..." Snape spoke up louder, his voice came out as a high whimper (just like he expected)

Feeling a rush of arousal through her core, Y/N turned around quickly to look down at him. She noticed his dick straining against his pants and her eyes widened.

His face grew panicked and lustful as he noticed her staring at the tent in his pants *Shit... She'll think that I'm a creep! She'll be disgusted by me and I will never-*

His train of thoughts was stopped as he loudly cried out involuntarily. She gently pressed her shoe to his cock, massaging it lightly

"Aaah! Please!" his head rolled back and hips bucked up to the contact, relishing in even the slightest touch to relieve his hard-on.

Y/N smirked and crouched down to his level. She grabbed a handful of his hair, yanking it slightly so she could see his flushed face.

"You're enjoying this? You enjoy being tied down and being punished like this?" her voice was amused and lustful as she took in Snape's heavy breathing.

Snape nodded his head eagerly, as much as her hold on his hair allowed.

"Mhm! Yes! Yes please I need- AH! MMMHH~

Y/N cut him off as she started to firmly palm his cock through the material. His hips were bucking up to the contact. Whines and moans were falling out of his open lips as he withered slightly under her touch, ropes restraining his movements a lot.

That moment was better than the things he imagined. How could he go go back to his own hand after feeling this? After feeling her?

She ran her thumb over his clothed tip, earning a shudder and a gasp from him.

"Fuck... You're sublime like this Severus... Those sounds you make are like heaven itself..." She whispered into his ear, leaving a kiss right under it.

He whimpered pathetically in response.

"Stop... Stop teasing..."

Y/N obliged immediately, almost attacking the zipper of his pants. After almost ripping his pants open she took his length out.

Snape hissed at the cold dungeon air against his sensitive dick. It was standing rigidly up, the tip already flushed red and leaking precum steadily.

Without hesitation Y/N took his length into her tight fist, waking him, hard.

Snape tried biting back the whines and moans of pleasure, failing miserably. He was writhing and bucking his hips up desperately, seeking more friction.

The sight was incredible. His cold and stern expression contorted into a face of pure pleasure. His mouth was open, gasping loudly and his eyes were rolling into the back of his skull with tears almost tricking down his cheeks.

"Please! Please Y/N I'm so sensitiv- Ahh~"

His orgasm was approaching quickly. His cock started twitching and his moans gained in volume. If she didn't stop he would-

"Are you going to cum? Are going to make a mess for me?" Y/N whispered into his ear before attacking his neck with kisses and gentle bites.

The only thing Snape could do was whine loudly and nod eagerly. His thighs started trembling, the uncomfortable coldness of stone floor long forgotten.

"Fuck... Come for me Severus... Come and look into my eyes... I want your fave to be engraved into my memory... I want to remember every single sound you let out as I make a fucking mess out of you..."

The pure filth that left her mouth spurred him on even more. She was still holding his hair tightly, her eyes now glued to his face.

Before he could warn her, the white hot pleasure took over his body with strings of his seed shooting over her hand and their clothes. He cried her name out and arched his back almost into a 90° angle (he might be almost 40 but that flexibility is still on POINT✨).

His head fell forward onto her shoulder as he panted loudly, trying to calm himself down.

With a swish of Y/N's wand, they bother were cleaned up as she tucked his softening length back into his pants almost lovingly. The hand gripping his raven locks now eased up and was gently running through his hair in a soothing manner.

"You can scare me every day if that's how it's going to end up every time" Y/N chuckled, getting rid of the binds on his body.

Snape only could quietly groan tired in response.

Hi! I have a feeling that was one of the most pathetic smuts that exist on this platform, although it just might be my opinion because I wrote it. If you have any feedback or tips then I'm more than happy to hear about them! I once again apologize for incoherent English. I hope that it's not actually as bad as it's in my eyes and that someone might actually enjoy this!

Now goodnight ❤️

[powdermelonkeg]

Personal headcanons for Gale's tower layout:

5F: An astronomical observatory with an orrery in it. The stardome is enchanted to reflect whatever sky and weather Gale wishes; if he wants to see the stars in Kythorn, that's what it shows him. If he wants rainy weather to read to, guess what. The stars reflect whatever position the orrery's been set to. There's a walkable ledge around the exterior of the roof for Tara's pigeon-hunting.

4F: A portal room, surrounded by three guest bedrooms and a bathroom. The bedrooms are themed: one smells like a sea breeze and faces the harbor, colored with sunset shades with gold accents, one smells like rose potpourri and fresh grass, mostly pastel purple with brass, one smells faintly spiced, deep maroon and bronze. Morena prefers the rose one. Each one comes equipped with a vanity that has three (magic) mirrors, a wardrobe that removes wrinkles and stains of anything hung in it and repairs minor stitches, a set of candles that never burn down their wicks, and curtains that, when drawn, enact a silent barrier around the room. The floors are polished hardwood with plush, patterned carpets. The bathroom is self-cleaning, has running water on command, whatever temp you want it, warms towels for you, and has a magic mirror (magic mirrors in my headcanon show hairstyles and things you WANT to try before you actually try them out).

3F: Gale's floor. His bedroom, a walk-in closet, a room for Tara, and a personal bathroom. Gale's bedroom has silence-spelled drapes, glowing crystal sconces he can dim with a wave, a desk, a large canopy bed (the one he summons during his last night in Act II), a small bookshelf for whatever he's currently reading that doubles as his nightstand, and a plush window seat. The walk-in closet is neatly sorted, with everything from travel robes to finery to wear to the annual Blackstaff Ball, and has the same enchantments in it as the guest room wardrobes, with the added effect of making anything put in it inexplicably smell like a library. His bathroom is just like the guest ones, but larger. The bathtub inside, when activated, always assumes he wants his bath piping hot and lavender-scented. Tara's room is smaller, but fully designed for her little cat body. Scratching posts, cat-sized perches and comfy cat towers, and a little bookcase and window seat of her own. She keeps her space VERY neat, in contrast to Gale's "organized chaos" sort of living.

2F: This is the floor we see in Gale's Act II illusion. The packed library, the messy desk, the private study, the balcony... He sorts his books by topic, then by date rather than author. Tara is appalled by it. The balcony has a minor enchantment to keep weather, pigeons, and seagulls off of it. Tara is upset at the lack of birds; it's SUCH a cozy napping spot, and you're going to take away her free breakfast, too? Gale's compromise was the 5th floor's walkable ledge, which is a prime pigeon-hunting perch.

1F: The entry floor. It's got a sitting room to entertain guests with, and a large, well-kitted kitchen. The dishwashing basin does the washing for Gale. On the wall in the sitting room, there are two notable paintings: one is of young, 10-year-old Gale in a cape, standing proudly with both his parents and holding his first-ever proper wizard staff. He's TRYING to have Tara on his shoulders, he insisted, but she's just too big, so he's wound up leaning forward where she awkwardly perches on his back. He has a snaggle tooth. The other painting is of a much older Gale, dressed finely and standing with his mother, smiling. It was made before he got the beard, so he looks a decent bit younger than he is. Tara is wrapped around Morena's shoulders like one of those feather boas, but she's headbutting Gale's shoulder affectionately.

B1: Gale's wine cellar and well-stocked pantry. He collects all kinds of wines from all over Faerûn, usually getting them from merchants that pass through Waterdeep, but he's not opposed to cracking open an expensive vintage with the right company. There's a locked cabinet labeled "in case of Elminster" that contains some cheeses and wine to offer the older wizard, that way Elminster doesn't raid Gale's pantry when he's not looking. If you don't feed Elminster, he WILL feed himself at your expense.

B2: Gale's spell workshop, scroll storage, alchemy lab, and vault. Gale's not especially well-versed in alchemy (I think Wyll's got dibs on that, personally), but he DOES mix himself up some Arcane Cultivation elixirs from time to time. And if a potion recipe intrigues him enough, he likes to have a place on hand to try things out. The vault is well-guarded with spells, but, sadly, pretty empty; it just has his savings there now, where once it held all sorts of enchanted items he'd picked up through his studies and younger adventuring days.

An additional note: Tara has perches all throughout the house, on every floor, basically anywhere Gale spends a lot of time doing things. The cushions that are hers are magically heated and smell like tea and mint.

[omamorens]

If you, a divinity amongst mortals, did inkblade headcanons with Oisin and Aelwyn becoming weirdly good friends, and bonding over how they want to be better people for Adaine - it would be extremely delightful, is all <3

AELWYN MY BELOVED of course lovely anon!! this was cooking for so long in my asks i apologize for that

you know what Adaine’s worst nightmares are made of?

its her scheming sneaky older sister being weirdly good friends with the newly reformed and redeemed dragonborn that may or may not have a crush on her.

Adaine isn’t one to assume his affections though (she found out from Aelwyn).

But Aelwyn is definitely not their wingman, mind you

Everything she does is for her entertainment

And seeing her little sister be very skittish around the hot dragonborn trying his best to make amends with Adaine, then you better bet Aelwyn is watching it while eating popcorn

On the other hand, Aelwyn’s tips on how to apologize to Adaine isn’t working so well for Oisin

Adaine avoids him every chance she gets and at some point he even asked Aelwyn to set up a trap or something just to have Adaine hear him out

“That’s not how you apologize, dragonboy.”

“Okay, since you’re so great at it, how did you apologize?”

Aelwyn thinks the real!Oisin is too catty for his own good sometimes

But oddly enough, Oisin knows a lot of stuff about other people (is he just that observant? does he have his own network of spies like Aelwyn does? who knows)

And they bond over shit-talking about other people (they have to be a little bit evil. it comes with the territory im afraid)

Oisin is the type to rant logically too. what i mean is, when he rants, he pulls up a whole ass whiteboard and explains every reasoning as to why this thing infuriates him.

Ivy was his usual audience for his rants, but eventually Aelwyn becomes a regular too.

its actually such a healthy coping mechanism that Aelwyn takes up the same habit too.

but her audience is Adaine and Boggy, and theyre both very supportive of her rants (better she rants than enact physical violence or blackmail because she’s irritated)

Aelwyn and Oisin definitely bond over magic too. Wizards and their little tower of trinkets (but for Aelwyn, its just her apartment and the dozens of cat she has)

Oisin feeds the cats for her sometimes, in exchange for knowing about Adaine’s favorite things (so he can apologize to her with them)

Does it work? Definitely not. Adaine’s forgiveness cannot be bought with material riches

But she does notice how Oisin seems to handle himself better than before (healing looks good on him, though she wouldn’t admit that out loud)

she also gets the nagging suspicion that having Aelwyn and Oisin meet is certainly good for their individual psychological health, but terrible for the rest of Solace (again, being a little bit evil comes with the territory)

i love me some evil (handshake) evil best friendship. sure theyre trying their best to be better people but not much fun being the goody-two-shoes all the time

[luvergirl777]

For All the Multiverses | O’Hara

Pairing | Miguel O’Hara x Reader

Word Count | 7k, not too bad. 

Genre | Smut, kind of enemies to lovers if you squint hard. 

Summary | Miguel is an ass, through and through. There’s almost nothing that can convince you otherwise, the constant nagging, perfectionism, micromanaging, and passive aggressive comments fueling your rage. After a dumb remark, you’re done with him, done with all of it. 

Index | Submissive Miguel, soft dom reader I guess, biting (a bit of blood but nothing too crazy), bickering, dumb fighting, a bit of violence but not too bad (normal spider-people stuff.)

“It’s rude to stare, y’know?” You ask, voice absolutely dripping sarcasm with every single word. You can feel his eyes, your senses tingling throughout your body as his eyes bore into you from the top of his little platform. He’s been easily staring for 10 minutes now, glaring daggers at you as you try to work. “Didn’t your mother ever teach you that?” 

He simply lets out a tsk noise, clearly not entertaining your conversation any further. “You should get back to work,” Miguel grunts, and you can practically feel his eyes roll as he turns back around to his projections. You’re not sure why he resents you so much, you’re pretty literally only here to help catch anomalies, literally his sole purpose in life. 

“You should too, you’re supposed to be leading a capture in less than 3 minutes withhh, one sec, Gwen, Peter B, and maybe Jess if you need the backup. Spider-cat is also down to come with Jess if you’d like,” You inform him, once again getting on his nerves without even really trying. Truly, you practically do what Lyla’s designed to do. However, with anomalies popping up more frequently and unpredictability, she needs all the help she can get. 

“I know, I don’t need you to tell me.” Miguel grits out.

“Well, you should get a move on because the rest of the team has been waiting on you for 5 minutes now, but I'm sure you know th-“ 

“Ay mierda,” And before you are able to get another cheap shot in he’s towering over you at your desk, “No micro-managing my mission, got it y/l/n?” his tone is deadly serious, vaguely threatening. Still, you refuse to give in to his constant fear-mongering bullshit, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips. If there’s one thing you’re going to do in your time at the spider society, it’s putting Miguel in his place even if it’s just a little. 

“Sir yes sir, Mr O’Hara sir,” You give him a stupid salute, purposely looking dumb to mock him. He leaves with an exaggerated sigh, mumbling something under his breath that you can’t quite catch. You probably don’t want to, you’re sure it’s a string of curses. With a giggle, you immediately turn on your surveillance and begin overseeing the mission. “Lyla?” She pops up in front of you, bubbly and bright as ever. 

“Yes?” She beams, walking around in her little artificial intelligence world. She’s the only other lively thing around here, and you’re grateful for her presence after dealing with Miguel all day. 

“Can I have this mission? Pretty pretty please?? With a cherry on top?” You begin to beg, pressing your hands together and shaking them towards her to see. 

“Well…I suppose Miguel never put in an official request on who monitors this mission. So I suppose I wouldn’t be going against any orders…” She trails off, thinking for a brief moment, “But if anyone asks, I was super busy!!” She exclaims, immediately running off to make herself busy so she has the excuse. It makes you giggle, turning back around to watch your projections spread around your desk. You hate that you share an office space with Miguel, but at least he’s in the air away from you. 

They’re getting their asses kicked, genuinely. You can tell that they don’t know the anomaly they’re going against, constantly getting tricked by the changing of shapes, colors, forms, and even states of matter. Dragging a hand along your face, you quickly ping Peter B’s watch with a message to help them. 

Don't tell O’Hara I’m here yet, but the anomaly glows under ultraviolet light. Think glowing like a scorpion !!! 

Finally, things begin to click as Peter uses his watch to shine the light around to detect it. With a small smile, you pat yourself on the back. Still, while it’s now easier to find it’s not any easier to catch. You almost itch for Miguel to call it, eyes switching between cameras just in case you miss it. 

“Call for backup.” Miguel groans, eyes narrowed more than before in his mask. 

“Sorry, what was that?” Your voice fills his ear and he immediately drops his head, hand coming to rub his forehead as he fights off many choice words. He sits like that for a second as he recomposes himself. 

“God, can't you hear?? I said call-“ 

“Already there.” You hang up, and a loud click right after you finish your last word. (AKA before Miguel can give you any more shit.) Truthfully? You have nothing against him. In fact, you think his combat and intelligence are admirable beyond compare. However, you refuse to be afraid like almost everyone else that comes to help. You don’t understand it, yeah he’s kinda scary because of his authority, but at the same time, he does the same thing as anyone else. Everyone is here to help, and the snarkiness and ego he has is beyond your grasp despite it all. You just so happen to have the pleasure to work right beside him. 

Miguel was avoidant from the get-go, constantly denying the fact that they needed any more help. He can do it on his own, he’s got everything under control, he doesn’t need a set of eyes looking at him, etc, etc, etc. Even when Lyla appeared and gave a very timid “Actually we really would benefit from the help-“ She was promptly hung up on. (She then flashed her message on all of the holograms and projections in the room out of spite.) But still, Miguel was relentless in his belief that he had everything under control. This continued for a long time, however, there was a brief moment where the two of you got along well. 

You’re not sure what really happened, how it even started. The two of you began going on missions together, catching a record number of anomalies for the month with ease. Along with this, you two fell into a routine in no time. He’d get coffee in the mornings, leaving yours on your desk as he was always in way earlier than you. You’d get lunch for the both of you, bringing Miguel his food as it’s rare he’d really leave for long, let alone to eat. It was nice, very nice. 

Small conversations in passing turned into hour-long debates about anything and everything, friendly debates. These ranged from which lunch was the best from the cafeteria, all the way to the legitimacy of how the multiverse works. You thought the Miguel Burger was the best (and most funny), he loves the empanadas. He thought the multiverse was do-or-die at all times, you believe there have to be SOME exceptions in a multiverse of infinite possibilities. Through the small banters and discussions, you had actually learned a lot more about each other than you ever expected. In times you couldn’t agree, you two settled on a truce and no hard feelings. You both genuinely respected the other's opinion because you had enough respect for one another in general. 

Besides from office encounters, you had even started “coincidentally” running into each other during night surveillance. He scared you at first as you snuck through the hall, a giant figure also popping out of his room. After the initial fright and a very over-exaggerated gasp from you, the two of you laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation for a solid five minutes. He had spooked you so bad you even pulled your mask on, struggling to peel it back off through your laughter.  “What are you doing, O’Hara, do you know what time it is?!” You whispered in between giggles, unable to hold them back. 

He responded with a giant smile on his face, the lack of sleep probably going to his head finally. “I should ask you the same thing!” Afterward, you two snuck into the cafeteria kitchen to make a snack. The two of you made food, humming songs and passing ingredients back and forth with very little verbal communication needed. You two even entertained the idea of sneaking one of the projectors back for a movie, but you both decided you needed some sort of rest before morning duty started. 

Another fond memory was his birthday one year. He never celebrates, never even thinks about allowing himself to. You initially bribed Lyla to tell you, and when she wouldn’t, you did some totally legal background stalking to find out. Walking into the office with a cake on his desk, obnoxious balloons, and streamers all over the office, and your frame hiding behind said desk ready to sing happy birthday, your plan was in full swing. Admittedly he was reluctant to even let you celebrate, clamping a palm over your mouth once you began singing. Slowly but surely he warmed up, made a birthday wish, and blew out his candles. 

“Happy birthday Captain!!!” You’re over the top and obnoxious, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him around in his chair. Still, he offers you a genuine smile as you continue your birthday antics. Getting his favorite lunch and dinner, hand-delivering them to his desk, the whole nine yards. 

It’s not until dinner that he told you why, “The last birthday I had, was with my daughter.” Miguel mumbled, avoiding your gaze. “I know, it’s silly but I just wanted to remember it with her.” 

Guilt instantly eats at your heart and brain, immediately feeling bad for everything. You hadn’t even considered the reason why he didn’t celebrate, “I’m really sorry I didn’t know-“ You’re quick to offer your support, reaching out and holding his forearm in your palm. 

“But this is really nice!” He interrupts your apology, flipping his arm over so he can also hold your arm near your elbow, “Really thoughtful and kind, I genuinely really appreciate you, y/n.” 

Don’t even get going on the one Father’s Day you had gotten him a small gift. It wasn’t intentional, you had been at the store to get Peter a cake for him, Mayday, and MJ. Something cute with #1 Dad!! With a silly hero design in the background that you know Peter and Mayday would like. However, while you were in the store Miguel popped up into your mind. With an uncertainty that could rival god, you bit the bullet and also got him a smaller cake with happy father’s Day written across the top. 

You had found Peter in the cafeteria, bothering Miguel with who knows what as he just tried to get his food and then leave. As soon as you gave the cake to Peter, Miguel leaves instantly, a painful reminder he didn’t need right now. Peter and Mayday thank you, and Peter jokingly smears a dollop of frosting across Mayday‘s nose. With a small smile, you excuse yourself to track down where Miguel went. “Captain?” Your voice is quiet and unsure as you walk into the office, trying to see if he’s up on the platform or not. 

You get no response before you’re swinging up there, unsure of where else he would’ve gone. Sure enough, he’s sitting, hunched over facing away from you. “I brought you something, you don’t have to accept it if you don’t want to I suppose.” You try to speak as softly as possible, minimizing the echo in the office. Placing it down in front of him, he picks his head up just the slightest bit to see what it is. Instantly, he lurches up and you think you’ve seriously done it now, stepped a bit too far over the boundary that you already crossed. 

Instead of being chewed out, he instantly pulls you to him, wrapping you in his arms. “Thank you.” He mumbles, clearly trying to avoid voice cracking. You let the silence comfort the two of you, too scared to talk in case it sends Miguel over the edge he was so desperately trying to come back from. It’s nice, your arms wrapping around his waist and holding him close. 

Everything seemed to be going positive and only up in your friendship, you two were happy and well-working co-workers. However, this promptly ended when you slipped up during a mission, made a dumb move for someone else, and got hurt pretty badly. 

You, Jess, and Miguel were fighting together to catch a doc-ock from about 100 years in the future (from Miguel’s world anyway.) Jess had slipped just as razor-sharp blades were flying toward her. What would’ve originally hit her stomach, was not going for her throat. Without a second thought, you had jumped in front of her to avoid the for-sure deadly strike. It caught your ribs, slicing deep to the bone. Jess sprung up, grabbing you and opening a portal without a second thought and leaving Miguel behind. “Fuck, fuck Jess, hurts bad.” You groan, hands flying to your wound in a feeble attempt to stop the blood from pouring out. It soaks everything it touches, your hand completely red and your forearm soon to be.

In a blur, you’re rushed to the medic bay and onto a bed. The entire time, you’re groaning, writhing in pain. “What were you thinking?!” His voice is unmistakable as he storms into the med bay, quickly finding his spot next to your bed as he accesses the damage you took. “Stupid, stupid move, y/n. Idiotic, even.” He’s mumbling more that you can’t quite catch, and you’re too out of it to even try and understand the broken Spanish. “Can't believe you two.” 

Jess cries next to you, holding your hand where it rests on the bed. “Jess would’ve died.” You grit as his hand presses against your wound to slow the bleeding, making you cry out. “Captain!” You scream, hands flying to grab his wrists as you continue to writhe. It’s bad, your hands instinctively clawing at his forearms to try and get him away even for a moment. Easily overpowering you, he doesn’t let up. 

“I know, I know I'm sorry, mi sol.” His words fall on deaf ears as you scream. The pain is unbearable as you go in and out of consciousness, doing your best to remain conscious of Jess’s emotional state. You’re completely out as you get stitched and cleaned up, your body is completely spent and your adrenaline begins to wear off.

The very first time you wake up, Miguel is next to you. His forehead rests on his palms, hunched over in the chair next to you. Your voice is too weak, so you simply reach out and take hold of his arm. “Menos mal que estás bien.” His voice is soft as he takes your hand in his, holding it up to his forehead. “You’re okay,” Miguel mumbles, pulling your hand down a bit to his cheek. You smile, flattening your hand to hold the side of his face in your palm.

“Sorry,” You speak, and he gives you a confused look at what you could be apologizing for. “About your arm, and fucking up the mission.” There are scratches all along his forearm, and you’re about 90% positive it had to be from you. 

“No, no. Don’t even worry about anything.” He speaks, shuffling slightly to stand up. Miguel places your hand gently back down to your stomach. “And what I said about that mission, that was just- I was-“ He can't even finish what he wants to tell you. 

“Please don’t leave me.” You mumble, realizing that he’s definitely about to run away. Miguel huffs heavily, his chest rising and falling. He has a sorry look on his face, and you know him well enough to know he’s not sticking around long. Leaning down, he wraps you in his arms, holding you close and protectively to his chest. It hurts, bad, but you’re not going to tell him as you soak it in. “O’Hara,” Tears cloud your vision. 

“I’m sorry, y/l/n.” And just like that, he’s disappearing. Recovery is a bitch, worse than the initial injury. You’re grateful for everyone visiting you in the med bay, but not once do you see Miguel even for a status update. 

Since then, he’s completely detached again. No longer leaving you coffee, ignores the lunch you bring him every day, not entertaining any of your conversations. You’re somehow completely back to the day you joined. 

Due to this incident, you naturally brush against each other, butting heads on almost everything now. This continued for a while, still remaining relevant here and there to this day. You can see Miguel shake his head as Jess and spider cat come in, they need all the help they can get, before he springs into action again. He’s scary, with fangs, claws, and running on all fours now. Maybe you’ve ticked him off a bit too much. you make a mental note to “STFU when O’Hara gets back” out of fear you’ve created this. (Not an uncommon occurrence.) 

With Jess and Spider Cat, they’re able to wrangle up the remaining anomalies and come back to HQ. The door slamming open startles you, and the mental note you made earlier is in full swing, sirens and all going off in your head. Your lips are sealed more than ever. You can feel his glances, before he quickly turns away, just to look back at you. He’s working himself up to chew your ass out, for sure. This is usually the look that he gives to Hobie when he’s being an idiot. The only thing you can do is turn your gaze down and continue searching through the multiverse for anything unusual. 

“Really? Really, you did the one thing I told you not to do?” Miguel carries on and you’re sure he’s pacing the platform as usual, “¿Por qué? ¿Por qué sigo dando órdenes?“ (Why? Why do I keep giving orders?) He continues to get himself going. 

You don’t know what to say to possibly make the situation better, so you continue your work. “Oh? And now you’re just not gonna talk to me, huh? I see how it is, ya veo cómo es.” (I see how it is.)

“I figured I was helping, O’Hara.” You spit, moving your screens aside to glare up at him. “You know?? Doing the one thing I’m here for? I don’t understand why you think me helping the team is somehow to spite you.” His eyes are beginning to turn red and you’re quick to flash your projections up once more to avoid the glare that is surely targeted at you. Your suit suddenly feels too right around the neck, strangling you. 

“Hmm, hmm.” Miguel nods, turning around on his platform and giving you the silent treatment from here on out. Eventually, he would break, you’re sure of it, have to ask you for something eventually. To your dismay, you’re the first one that has to break the silence in the suffocating room. 

“There's an anomaly on Earth 295-“ 

“Go get it. Since you want to micromanage anyways, you got it.” It’s not encouragement at all, the opposite really. With an exasperated sigh, you get up from your desk and begin to make your way out into the lobby. Rounding up a group of people, you set off to catch the anomaly. It’s easy, a routine capture before you’re dragging the man back through your portal. With another sigh, you shove open the doors to your shared office and plop down into your chair. No other words are exchanged for the rest of the day, the two of you doing your work while passing another in silence. 

You wish you could work alongside Lyla in her artificial intelligence database. Clocking out for the night, you’re preparing to open your portal and crash land somewhere in your city. Anything is better than being here. “I need you to stay tonight for overnight surveillance.” Miguel breaks the silence just as you’re about to press the open button, your arms immediately falling to your sides and your head was thrown back. 

“Fuck you, O’Hara.” You groan, leaving your office and heading up to the overnight dorms to begin your night surveillance. God, you hate him. You joined the society to make the universe better, all of the multiverses better, not to be picked on by some oversized man in a tight-ass hologram suit. Plopping down at your desk in the dorm, you curse O’Hara out in your head. Scanning through your brain, there’s literally nothing you can think of to make the situation better. He simply hates you because he can’t handle everything on his own, you’re sure he’s just projecting but it’s infuriating regardless. The whole night, every second of the surveillance shift, you become more and more irritated. 

It’s 7 am when you crawl out of your dorm, running on 5 minutes of accidental sleep and spite. You’re technically supposed to be at your desk at 7, but at this point who cares. If he says one thing, one single thing to you, “You know you’re 3 minutes late-“ And you’re ripping off your watch and hurling it at his head. Miguel, spider sense less, doesn’t feel it coming and gets absolutely clobbered in the side of the head. You hope it bleeds, truly, as your chest heaves. 

“Fuck, you, O’Hara,” You grit, turning around and beginning to make your way out of the stupid office, away from his stupid little platform, and his stupid little dramatic face. Like an idiot, he chases, “All I do is fucking help you, stick my neck out for these missions, bust my ass, and nothing. You take the credit and I get yelled at for helping.” You're beyond angry, fists clenched at your side- 

“Just put your watch back on estúpida, you’re gonna glitch-“ He watches as you do just that, never crumbling or falling as you turn to glare at him. Scary, that was scary. He’s never seen someone withstand their literal atoms glitching, let alone being so angry they’re able to move also. Still on you’re feet, Miguel ignores the smart part of his brain that tells him to move away from you. 

“All because pretty boy,” You’re stepping closer to him, and Miguel takes all the strength in his body to not cower away from you. Forcing himself to stand tall like always, he takes whatever you’re about to give him, finger digging into his chest, “Can’t take the fact that he can’t control everything. Pushes everyone away, would rather the multiverse weaken than admit he needs some fuckin help, and everyone just believes it. Holds their heads high with the assumption everything is fine, they’re doing their job, getting their pats on the back. It’s such a shame you’re so attractive O’Hara, because it’s ruined by that fucking personality of yours.” Maybe you’re being too mean, but if you don’t say it no one else ever will. At the commotion, a few heads begin to look over at the two of you. 

“Can we please talk, in private, where people aren’t staring at us-“ 

“I’m going home. I’m going through that stupid freaky spider machine, that has a stupid name by the way, and leaving the team,” You say, definitive as you tear yourself away from Miguel and began the trek towards Margo’s office (essentially.) 

“Can we please talk like adults, y/n?” Miguel still follows, this time grabbing you by the wrist and yanking you back harder than he really meant to. He’s strong, much stronger than you, so it’s no surprise that you almost fly backward into his chest. He catches you by the waist, only making your anger bubble more. Glaring up at him, you can see a flash of emotion rush across his face before it’s gone just as fast. “Please, y/n.” 

Miguel isn’t a beggar, never has been, in fact, you can’t even remember if you’ve ever heard him say please before now. “To the office?” You force a grin as the group of eyes on the two of you continues to grow. Miguel offers you a polite nod, placing your watch back on your wrist before allowing you to lead the way. With an annoyed grunt, you eventually make it back to your desk, plopping down in the chair. “If you go up to your platform to talk to me, I’m opening a portal and leaving. Before you even get a word in,” You warn him. 

Miguel walks over with an annoyed sigh, rubbing the wrinkle in between his brows out. “y/n please stay, we need all the help we can-“ His words are cut short as your lurch forward, roughly grabbing his face in your hand. His cheeks are squished together as your fingertips dig into his skin, spinning around. You easily knock him back into the chair you were previously sitting at. “¡Joder! ¡De acuerdo!” (Ah fuck! Okay Okay!)

“Now you need me? All of a sudden, now you need the help.” You hiss, caging him in as you step closer, fingertips digging in even more with each word. You’re basically leaning over him, one of his knees slipping between your legs without even realizing it. Miguel’s hands reach up, timidly wrapping around your wrist in an attempt to calm you down or at least loosen the grip you have on him. 

“Cálmate dulce chica, podemos hablar de esto.” (Calm down sweet girl, we can talk about this.) Miguel offers, a small whimper falling from his lips as he realizes how close you are to him, essentially hovering over his lap. “y/n please-“ It’s nothing short of sin, a loud whine falling past his lips as his hands fly to meet your waist. His big hands almost wrap around you entirely, if he squeezed his fingertips would probably touch together. 

“You’re getting off to this? Really Miguel?” Another groan falls from his lips, you never call him Miguel. Never, it’s always O’Hara or some stupid nickname you picked up from the kids because you thought they were funny. There’s a small smirk on your face, making Miguel’s eyes narrow with lust as it’s clear you’re very amused by his situation. His mind almost melts as you finally sit, your knees on either side of his hips. You fill his senses, judgment beginning to cloud as your smell fills his nose and voice his ears. “You are, huh?” You draw out, the slightest bit of humor behind your voice. 

“You’re just, ah fuck, so pretty when you’re yelling at me,” Miguel speaks, a bit muffled as you haven’t released him yet from your grip. Finally, you let go of his cheeks, leaving behind faint red dots where your fingertips once were. “So soft, warm,” He continues as his mind becomes fuzzier by the second, hands pawing at your suit material. He wants nothing more than for it to be gone right now and for a brief moment, he thinks about ripping through it. He can give you one like his, yeah, he thinks as he rationalizes. 

“You gonna be good? Let me see you?” You mumble and break his train of thought, hands trailing over his suit that is technically molecules that he’s learned to manipulate over the years. With a small nod, he removes the fabric where your hands trail, leaving open skin for you to touch. The rest of his suit remains intact, only his front opening for you. “Naughty naughty,” You tease at his lack of underwear or boxers, ghosting your fingers across his head to tease him even more. Without explanation, you climb off his lap and step away. 

“y/n? Fuck, what’s wrong-“ His worry ceases as you begin pulling your suit off, the skin-tight fabric being dropped on the desk space next to you. “Oh Dios, vas a ser mi muerte.” (Oh god, you’re going to be the death of me.) He knows you don’t understand Spanish fluently, only picking up bits and pieces of his expressions. In this case, you caught death and that’s about all you understood. 

“You know I don’t understand, Miguel.” You tease as you crawl back onto his lap only in a bra and panties, seated securely on his big thighs. Leaning forward, your hands find their place naturally in his hair. “Let’s talk like adults, hm?” You mock him from earlier, a sick smirk spread fully across your face. “Go ahead, tell me everything you wanted to earlier, or else I’m taking my watch off and going home~” You almost sing song, soaking in the hint of misery it gives him. 

“I just wanted to say- haaaa fuck,” You catch Miguel off guard as your lips find his jaw, hot kisses soon spreading down to his neck. You mark him thoroughly, you wanna leave a part of yourself with him. 

“C'mon, O’Hara, or I'm leaving.” You continue to warn. 

“I, we need you here. I know I’ve been, shit shit,” His train is thrown off as you press yourself closer to him, pinning his cock in between your stomachs as your hips search for friction, “Mean to you recently. It’s just because, ah ah, I liked you. But I couldn’t express this because of our circumstances. And when you got hurt, it scared me because I realized how much you actually meant to me. So instead of liking you I thought hating you would push you away and it would eventually dissipate. But you’re so stubborn it only made things worse because you refused to go to a different department at least.” 

“I see.” You barely give him a response as you suck dark hickeys into his chest, peering up at him to catch his expression. “Miguel, let me ride your fingers,” He groans, nodding his head as his palm slides closer to where you need him. 

One of his palms remains on your waist, the heat spreading from his hand to your body. It feels as if you’re on fire, blood molten lava as it flows throughout your body. As much as you’ve hated him recently, he’s still incredibly attractive. And to have him this pliant and finally following your instructions? An added bonus. Your breath hitches as he runs across your clit, running across the small bead as your hips reactively pick themselves up to give him better access. 

“Fuck, so pretty like this, finally listening to my instructions,” You fill the silence, hands falling to hold Miguel’s head in them. “You gonna let me kiss you, O’Hara? Or is that too intimate for you?” 

“I want nothing more, please do.” He groans as you immediately lean forward, lips clashing as you starve for a taste of him. He kisses you back with a matched fury, his palm siding up to hold your torso against him. He swallows your moans as he begins his ministrations, sinking his middle finger completely into you. The kiss is messy, the only thing grounding you as he inserts another finger, expertly finding what makes you tick. Tongues pressing against tongues, lips swollen, moans, and panting breaths mix together. 

“Close, O’Hara,” You warn, “If you stop, I’ll kill you,” A genuine threat as your grip falls to his neck, loosely choking him. It makes him whine, more focused on pleasing you more than ever now. Your hips begin meeting his hand, chasing a high you so desperately need now. You’re soaked, the sound bouncing off the office walls surely embarrassing beyond belief if you were thinking straight. Your free hand finds Miguel’s lips, thumb brushing along his lips and revealing his canines, giant fangs that stick out farther than his other teeth. “Coming,” You whine, losing your grip on him almost entirely as your face falls into the crook of his shoulder, riding out your high. 

“C'mon, cum for me. So pretty, y/n, shaking around my hand.” Miguel encourages you, thoroughly prolonging your orgasm as he targets the spot inside and your poor aching clit. He stops only when your hips drop, no longer able to withstand the abuse. “Fuck, so pretty y/n, all for me,” Miguel continues, pulling you close as your lips reconnect, this time rough. Your hands pull his hair harshly, head tilting back as he whines into your mouth. 

“Gonna ride your pretty cock, get myself off,” You mumble into his mouth, causing him to groan in response. Miguel’s more than happy to let you, puppy dog eyes and all as you pull yourself away from him. He’s big, and you’re sure you’re not completely stretched as much as you’d like but you’re in too deep now. Lining yourself up, it’s a rough start. Miguel’s hands fly to your waist, not pushing but simply squeezing as his head falls back. His face is squeezed hard, whines falling past soft lips before he can think to stop them. “So big, fuck fuck,” Whimpering, you sink slowly inch by inch as you will yourself to take him. 

“Shit y/n. fuck, haaa fuck fuck, tight,” Miguel babbles, unable to hold it back. Taking the last few inches, you lean forward to wrap your arms around his shoulders, desperately needing something to hold onto. “So good, please move, please feels good, so deep,” Miguel feels like his mind is melting, completely pussy drunk as he shamelessly begs for you. You grind against him, trying to get a feel for how big he is before you hurt yourself. Rolling your hips slightly, you effortlessly pull moans from the both of you. 

Your bodies are completely pressed together as you pick your hips up and slam them down, body heat suffocating but so good at the same time. Your face finds itself in Miguel’s neck, moans and whines being muffled into his skin. Miguel holds onto you for dear life, almost bruising the skin underneath his fingers. Your pace is brutal, once again chasing your high with no other regard in mind. His hands begin to hurt, definitely bruising the skin underneath. 

“O’Hara.” Your tone is pissed off as you rip his hands away, webbing them to the armrests on either side of you. He could easily rip them, you’re sure, but he won’t, another thing you’re sure of. “Stupid boy, getting rode and doesn’t know what to do with himself,” You taunt, almost feeling his cock jump. It feels too good, he feels too good as he instinctively curls in on himself. “C’mon, don’t get shy on me.” You taunt, wedging your feet on the inside of his thighs and spreading them. 

“Your stupid boy,” He babbles back, picking his head up more fully to watch how you use him, relentlessly fucking him. “So good, so pretty.” He can see the tip of his cock in your stomach, bordering crazy he’s sure. His fists ball at his sides, doing his best to be good. “Gonna cum soon, you feel too good.” 

“Hmm, I’m not stopping until I cum.” You warn him graciously. You’re about 95% sure it goes in one ear and out the other, too distracted to fully register your words. “Do what you want, Mig, just remember that.” Once again, he definitely doesn’t comprehend as he eagerly nods at the approval. 

As his high approaches, his hips begin grinding up into you, chasing his own release. You allow it, having already warned him more times than you should’ve. “Coming, nghhh ahh fuck, fuck,” And he does, hips driving forward as he cums as deep as possible. You entertain it, sinking down fully and grinding against him as you coax him through it. You can feel his thighs shake underneath you as his hips rest back down on the chair, head thrown back as his chest heaves. 

“Oh, Mig, sweet boy.” You tease, voice flowing through his ears like honey. “I haven’t cum yet.” Finally, you’re getting through to him as you pick your hips back up, dropping down with a wet smack. 

“y/n, wait! Shit, fuck, nhghhhh ah ah,” Miguel is so overstimulated, thighs shaking slightly as his hips buck. You’re once again chasing your high, using him completely as your toy now. “Please I can’t-“ Tears prick his eyes as his head picks up to meet yours, muscles flexed as he pulls against his restraints. Your grip meets his throat, stopping his whining momentarily. 

“I warned you, be good for me and sit still,” You mumble, your free hand reaching for his mouth once again. ”Been so mean to me, so mean Miguel, need to use you. Need to punish you.” You bite into his shoulder, muffling yourself. His whines and moans are nonstop, the overstimulation driving him crazy. Eventually, you pull your head back, finding another sensation to play with. Wedging your fingers into his mouth, Miguel thinks his mind is going to melt. Your fingers run across his fangs, testing the sharpness on the pads of your index and middle. Much to your surprise, (not really), they easily prick the skin and cause blood. Miguel’s tongue is quick to soothe over the two pricks, earning him a loud moan as you run your fingers across his tongue. “My dumb boy, all pussy drunk, overstimulated, just so stupid, hmm?” 

“Yes, yes,” Is all he can manage with your two fingers in his mouth, beginning to fuck them against his tongue in speed with your own hips. It’s obscene, but the sight makes you clench tightly around his cock, earning you even louder whines. There’s saliva dripping now, so messy as he allows you to do as you please. 

“Fuck, gonna cum. Gonna cum for you, Miguel.” Your thighs are growing tired, Miguel doing his best to pick up the slack and thrust up into you. “Cumming~” It’s barely a warning as your head falls forward, thighs shaking and clamping down around Miguel’s hips. He does his best to prolong it, thrusting up with the limited movement you allow him, soon spilling inside you once more as you’re just so tight. 

As you come to, your hips pick themselves up and down a couple more times, fucking his cum into you. “No more, please, no mas, no mas, por favor mami,” (No more, no more, please mami.) Miguel cries, tears slipping as the overstimulation is too much. Your hips still with him still inside, chests heaving as the both of you fight to catch your breaths. Your hands are quick to meet his cheeks, wiping away the stray tears that fall. Leaning forward to kiss the tear stains, Miguel whines as you slide along him. 

“Look at you, absolutely covered in cum, spit, sweat,” You smile, slowly picking your hips up and climbing off his lap. Everything aches, but you’re so satisfied as you wobble over to your suit. Picking it up, you opt for carrying it rather than fighting it over your sticky skin. Miguel looks like the epitome of sex as he remains in the chair, still struggling to recover. “Miguel, you okay?” Your voice is much gentler now, walking over and placing a kiss on his forehead. He nods as you rip through your webs for him, freeing him of his restraints. You offer a soft peck which he takes gratefully, your fingers coming to rub his scalp where you had been tugging at his hair. 

“Miguel?” Carefully climbing into his lap again, you drop your suit over the armrest. “My boy, are you alright?” You pull him close to you, holding his head against your chest as you massage his scalp. You hold him until he comes down fully, placing soft kisses on his forehead and tear-stained cheeks. 

“Yes, mi corazón. Are you okay? Feeling okay?” His hands meet your waist where he had been previously squeezing, rubbing the soon-to-be bruised skin. 

“More than okay.” With one final reassurance peck to his lips, you stand back up fully and grab your suit. You're exhausted, both from night duty and today's festivities, and it’s clear there is no way you’re going to be able to work today. “I’m gonna go home and get some sleep, I had the night shift last night.” The reminder pains Miguel that he really asked you to do that out of spite. “You’re more than welcome to follow, or swing by later.” You offer, tapping on your watch until you carefully open a portal inside your apartment. 

Glancing back once more, Miguel looks cute as he watches you go, suit fully formed once again. You wonder how that works with all the liquid on his skin, but you opt to ask another time. 

“I’ll stop by later,” He offers, not missing the way your face falls slightly. He quickly climbs to his feet, “I just have a couple of things to do here, otherwise I would, I really would trust me.” Miguel explains, big frame easily engulfing you into a hug. His cheer-up protocol works, putting a small smile on your face as you look up at him. 

“I’ll see you later, spidey,” You beam, leaning forward onto your tip-toes to kiss him. He meets you halfway, indulging you. With one final glance back, you step through the portal, waving bye as it closes. 

“I’ll be there!” He promises just as it closes, leaving you two technically universes apart from one another. 

~~~

Hours later, the sound of his portal is unmistakable in your small one-bedroom apartment as it fills the silence and shakes the walls. Peeking your head out of the hall into your living room, his giant frame looks a bit silly in the small area. Nevertheless, the giant smile that spreads across your face is priceless. “You actually came!” You speak, spooking him slightly as you step out from behind the hall wall. 

“What? Of course.” He scoffs, welcoming you with open arms when you approach him. He must’ve gone home and cleaned up, hair seemingly damp and a glow that only a warm shower could give radiating from him. “I wouldn’t miss this for all the multiverses.” 

[fourraccoonsinacoat]

FourRaccoonsInACoat Masterlist

Thanks for stopping by my masterlist, I am thrilled there are people who are interested in my writing! You may be asking, did I really create a logo for a nonexistent book series that only exists in the BG3 universe and features Malta the crime-fighting cat, all for the sake of a gag?

Yes. Yes I did. I will speak no more on the matter.

My fanfiction is centered around Baldur's Gate 3 and explores the romance between Astarion and the Dark Urge. The Durge MC in my works is based on my first BG3 Durge, a female half-drow warlock named Eli. I currently have one ongoing chapter fic, as well as a few one shots that all take place in the same universe.

I write fanfiction for myself as a way to decompress from life and because I enjoy sharing my stories with others. It legitimately makes my day when someone is entertained by my writing, so thank you for every comment, like, message and kudo. Much love and appreciation to you all!

Also, if you're here for BG3 Incorrect Quotes, follow that link for the masterlist.

____________________

AO3 Account - All of my works are crossposted to AO3.

Ongoing Work

Head Full of Ghosts:

Current Rating: M

Chapters: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

Eli has spent a lot of time combing through her fractured psyche, trying to piece together any semblance of facts about who she was before she awoke on a mind flayer nautiloid. In all that self-reflection, she has concluded there are two things she is very good at. Killing people and drinking.

Neither of which is proving very useful as she tries to navigate interpersonal pitfalls after being appointed leader of a ragtag group of maladjusted misfits who are trying to source a cure for the illithid tadpoles in their heads. As if that isn't problematic enough, she's also having to contend with the growing affections between herself and the group's resident vampire spawn, Astarion.

Between fanatic cultists, goblin raids, murderous urges and cryptic memory loss, Eli figures a relationship is the last thing she ought to get herself wrapped up in. And from what she's seen of Astarion, the cavalier rogue seems to have his own breeds of specters haunting his steps.

Neither one of them has any business mucking about with romance. But, neither one of them is particularly good at staying away from things that entice.

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One Shots

In chronological order:

Fall for Me ---> Faint of Heart ---> Midnight Prayer

Fall for Me

Rating: E NSFW18+

Astarion wakes from a nightmare and goes to Eli, seeking reassurance as he struggles with the denial of his feelings. The last thing he wants to do is give someone else control over him, not after he’s so recently regained a taste of freedom. Over the past 200 years, every relationship Astarion was involved in had been nothing more than a means to an end, with Astarion either playing the role of manipulator or the one being manipulated. Attachments were leverage, giving someone a hook they were able to dig their claws into in order to gain ground. Isolating himself from connecting with others was how he had survived.

This, however…this was different. 

Rating: M

Faint of Heart

Somewhere along the way, more and more truth has begun to slip into the words Astarion has been using to charm Eli into his bed. He's not sure when it started, but sometime between their passionate nights and hard fought days, genuine feelings began to stir.

It all comes to a head after the crew stages a prison break out of Moonrise Towers. Now, during a rare evening of respite, Astarion is determined to make a confession, regardless of his fears over the fallout.

Rating: M

Midnight Prayer

Neither Eli nor Astarion knows what they're doing when it comes to romance. Their combined histories with healthy relationships adds up to an unsurprising total of zero. Astarion once admitted to Eli that he couldn’t remember ever bedding the same person twice. And Eli…well, she can't remember anything, frankly. Her memories of past lovers are nonexistent…at least…

At least until today. Today, when they’d finally met the infamous Enver Gortash.

[danglovely]

Regrading Taskmaster: S07E01 The mean bean.

*Score changes noted in parenthesis.

Let's do it. It's time for everybody's favorite season. It's not my favorite season, but everyone who matters likes it. I think this season really works because the cast is so competitive and willing to fight with each other in studio. James and Rhod really seemed to get what is entertaining for the show, but the other three were great as well.

Prediction time? I'll guess that I will end up having Kerry still winning it. It always felt like she wanted the win more than she wanted to be an entertainer on the show. Jess is the only other contestant that seems to take the competition aspect of seriously in any sort of way.

But enough exposition.

Prize Task: The Thing That Most People Would Like to Touch

I think that's more likely than the sign having an existential crisis.

My immediate go-to is to bring in a cat and bringing in living things always seems to work well. Greg could pick it apart if he hates cats or brings up dog people, but I think it's solid.

James chooses MC Hammer because of the song "Can't Touch This." It's a decent joke, but they only have a cardboard cutout of him. Real MC Hammer gets five points instantly; cardboard cutouts compete for one.

Jess brings in a sign that says "do not touch." James immediately mentions the weakness in that it is clearly referring to not touching something other than the sign and so that other thing would be the thing you'd want to touch. Jess limbos under James in points.

Kerry brings a Newton's Cradle. I'll give it this -- when I first saw one, I was fascinated. Once the novelty wears off it kind of becomes, as Greg says, "disappointing to touch." Kerry slots in between Jess and James.

Phil brings in a delightful chariot toy that moves in the most interesting way. To this day I want to play with it. I assume everyone is like me and wants to play with it, so it's getting the five. Note: First instance of the haggling joke.

Rhod brings in a replica of Greg's childhood toy, "BT" and there's a lot of conversation about the absolutely insane things Greg did in his youth. It's clever and deserves second.

James: 3 (+1) Jess: 1 (0) Kerry: 2 (0) Phil: 5 (0) Rhod: 4 (0)

VT 01: Design and demonstrate the best "quick change outfit." Best and quickest "quick change outfit" wins.

Just no sense of urgency whatsoever.

Two aspects to the win condition here: (1) best, (2) quickest. I would say "quickest" is more important, seeing as that is the point of a "quick change outfit," but I could be convinced the other way if there was a change where I truly couldn't figure out how they did it.

Jess's change is great and it's only marred that you can see the neon green headband from her 80's workout clothes underneath her wedding veil. She goes with the classic "curtain up, curtain down, different outfit," albeit with a lot of ruffling in between. Also insane that Greg thought she was a ghost and not a bride. 4-second change.

Rhod's attempt is completely insane. Obviously he was doing a different task and that task was "humiliate Alex." He wasn't going for points here, but he still gets one.

James seems to connect a suit and a dress on each half of his body, steps offscreen, then turns around. It was fast, I'll give him that. His third outfit was just removing the suit. It's definitively worse than Jess's outfit so the speed is irrelevant in this instance.

Kerry's is good. It happens quickly and the outfits look completely different. I'm more impressed with Jess because I can see the strings that pull Kerry's velcro apart, but I think they're close enough that fastest wins. 3.6-second change.

Oh Phil. It's so unimpressive. He basically just changes out of his outfit off-camera and it takes him longer to do it than an average person would take. It's even more brutal now that Taskmaster showed the video of him changing.

James: 3 (+1) Jess: 4 (0) Kerry: 5 (0) Phil: 2 (+1) Rhod: 1 (-2)

VT 02: Build the highest tower. You have five minutes from when your first box is assembled and maximum time twenty minutes from now.

Goddamn stinger and stinging nettles and then the friggin holly bush and thorny branches. Where do you get off?

First location task! The Woodrow High House -- I like the aesthetic of this place a lot and wouldn't mind visiting it one day. I also never noticed that they folded the task into a box before.

This task is a joy because the five put together so much failure in their own ways. The only real judgments to make is whether their attempts constituted "a tower" and when their first boxes are assembled.

James tried to hang a box off a tree with rope made of tape. A tower probably needs to consist of a minimum of two boxes. Arguably he didn't complete the task.

Phil contests that he hasn't assembled a box until every side is closed. I'm not buying it and his argument doesn't help. He also did not complete the task. Phil also argues that Rhod's tower isn't free standing. If that's what was said in the task I'd give it to him, but it wasn't.

Jess confidently builds a tower only for it to fall over as soon as she turns around. Here's the thing: the task doesn't specify when the tower should be measured so it could be interpreted to the maximum height she ever achieves. She even says "I'm leaving it there." Jess's maximum looked a lot taller than Kerry's so I'm flipping them.

James: 0 (-1) Jess: 4 (+1) Kerry: 3 (-1) Phil: 0 (-2) Rhod: 5 (0)

VT 03: Work out the circumference of the caravan in baked beans. You have three minutes. Most accurate wins.

It is such a bad omen that Rhod is the smart one.

I'm with Alex here in that the only way to do it is to find the average length of a bean. There is honestly no way for me to actually evaluate who did best from the footage, so Alex's measurements need to be trusted.

James: 4 Jess: 3 Kerry: 5 Phil: 1 Rhod: 2

Live Task: Make the best fruit display hat. You may not touch or tamper with your hat. Only the fruit picker-uppers may touch the fruit. You may only hold the fruit picker-uppers by their handles. Best fruit display hat wins.

First off, we ask if there are any disqualifications. There is some inadvertent contact with the fruit, but nothing intentional and that's the heart of the task.

The next bit is that people start collaborating by making each other's hat. The task specifically says to make the best hat, not wear the best hat. Thus, the hat that they make should be what they're graded on.

And now my subjective opinion:

James makes his own hat and gets a watermelon, and what looks like an apple and a mango on it. It's bad.

Jess makes Kerry's hat and Kerry makes Jess's hat. I think the hat Jess makes looks better and has more fruit. Phil makes Rhod's hat and Rhod makes Phil's hat. I'm honestly impressed that Phil got that much fruit on it, including a pineapple. Rhod's is similar to what Jess and Kerry did, but has slightly less volume than the other two.

James: 1 (-1) Jess: 4 (+1) Kerry: 3 (-1) Phil: 5 (+1) Rhod: 2 (-3)

F I N A L

James: 11 (0) Jess: 16 (+2) Kerry: 18 (-2) Phi: 13 (0) Rhod: 14 (-5)

There are no crazy scoring changes. I did dock Rhod a lot, but that's mostly because I felt Phil deserved credit for making his hat. There is a prisoner's dilemma version of that game where you depend on the other person to build your hat but you don't want to make it too good. That's not what the task said though.

Kerry wins.

[sustainably-du-mortain]

The art of losing

Fandom: The Wayhaven Chronicles Characters: f!detective (Sadie Langford) & Unit Bravo Word count: ~2.5k A/N: Here's my secret santa for @nsewell. I had so much fun getting to know Sadie for this @wayhavensecretsanta! She's a sweetheart and I hope I did her justice. I hope you'll enjoy this!!

A yell echoes down the corridors as soon as Morgan steps inside the warehouse, making her instinct take over as she runs to the source of the ruckus. 

The screams lead her to the living room, and although she’s not quite sure what to expect, she understood, as the screams turned into a weird mix of laughter and complaints, that she didn’t have to worry. So, when she reaches the door, it’s not worry guiding her anymore but curiosity. What she definitely didn’t expect to find though, is the rest of the team, sitting on the carpet, Ava, towering over the other three as she kneels over the coffee table; pointing an accusing finger at Farah.

“I know you’re cheating!” She growls, almost making Morgan shiver. This is a tone the commanding agent rarely uses on them - despite them constantly getting on her nerves - and Ava must have sensed the very faint hint of fear in her teammates as her tone is way softer, almost pleading, when she adds: “You keep taking the pot!”

“How the heck do you want me to cheat!? I didn’t even know the rules of that game half an hour ago! You’re just mad because you’re losing-” The young vampire retorts, before she adds with a little glint of mischief in her eyes “-loser!”

Morgan has to hold back a laugh when Ava’s ears flush red with anger and Nat quickly scouts closer to her to land a soothing hand on her friend’s shoulder. She remembers a similar night, decades ago, when they had to ban game nights after Ava forced them to play the same game for hours because she kept losing or could tell that they were letting her win on purpose. Had she known they were playing a game, Morgan would have actually avoided the living room at all cost.

She catches Sadie’s gaze and cannot hold it anymore. The detective is seated between Ava and Farah and the look of pure panic in her eyes gives away that she’s regretting not going to the local Christmas market like they had planned. That she would have rather braved the heavy-falling snow than whatever is going on right now. 

‘Get me out of here’ she mouths, but Morgan doesn’t make any move to help her. In fact, she steps even further into the room, thinking this debacle might at least entertain her for a little while. It’s not like she’s got anything else to do anyways.

The detective, realizing that she won’t be able to get out so easily, mouths again ‘I hate you’, to which Morgan answers by blowing a kiss in her direction. 

Admitting her defeat, Sadie holds up her cat in Ava’s direction. “Could you hold while I play my turn, please?” She asks, barely hiding her attempt at defusing the situation.

And for a second, Morgan thinks this might work as Ava eyes the hairless cat, barely annoyed at being handled in such a way. She watches as the commanding agent sits back down, crossing her leg, almost preparing to take the cat. That is until she goes “You’ve been holding him just fine the whole time.”

Sadie makes a face at her. “Yeah, well unlike you, my legs are getting numb.” She states, not waiting for the vampire’s answer before putting the sheriff in her lap. The cat is already falling back asleep.

There's a moment of latency as everyone waits for Ava's reaction and, as she doesn't show any sign of exasperation, Sadie reaches for something on the table and the silence falls heavier when she makes it spin.

Morgan steps a little closer and sits on the sofa behind Sadie. On the table, she makes out the blurred lines of a wooden spinning top. Underneath it, the detective is crossing her fingers as tightly as she can bear.

In front of Sadie, two glass pebbles are sitting on the table. Morgan looks around the table and noticing that the others have similar piles before them - some much bigger, like Farah’s, and others only containing one more than Sadie’s stash, like Ava’s - she understands, despite having no idea what game they’re playing, that her friend is losing. 

The four faces of the spinning top become more and more visible as it slows down and starts wobbling. Although she can now make out the symbols on the four faces of the toy, she still doesn’t know what they’re supposed to represent. She hears Sadie take a deep breath before she actually stops breathing. She can’t help but think the human is being a little-over dramatic, but then…

***

The dreidel finally tips over and…

“Nun!” she yells, much louder than she intended. 

She hears Morgan hissing sharply behind her and realizes she’s probably broken her eardrums. So she turns around and mouths a silent apology, to which the vampire answers with only a grunt, before she goes back to the game.

Sadie stares at the dreidel laying on its side and lets out a relieved sigh. She’s not losing that round either, she thinks before handing her dreidel to Ava. The vampire sitting by her side, mumbles something as she does, but Sadie doesn’t get it. 

The two are competing for the second to last place and, so far, Ava is winning. Sadie crosses her fingers once again and prays. She prays that Ava lands on ‘Shin’, which would force her to add another token into the pot, meaning they’d be even. But as she realizes what she’s praying for, Sadie is torn between shame and an irrepressible need to laugh. She’s usually not that competitive, but seeing how invested she is in that game, she guesses being around Ava is starting to rub on her.

Ava spins the dreidel and it flies across the room, making everyone duck.

“Ava!” They all scream in unison.

“What?” She asks, acting like nothing happened. She acts like it’s completely normal to turn a dreidel into a projectile, despite the fact that they all know how much control she has over her own strength. 

Her ears turn pink as they all stare at her and she sheepishly avoids their gaze. A move Sadie has grown accustomed to these past months: she is trying to hide the shame of letting her emotions get the best of her. 

A loud gasp echoes around the room and they all turn to Nat who went to fetch the toy. “Ava! It made a dent in the wall!” she cries in horror, staring at the toy encrusted in the wall. 

Sadie’s mouth falls wide open and she struggles to hold back a laugh, but as she sees Farah and Morgan trying as hard as she is not to laugh and that the rest of Ava’s face is turning a bright shade of red, she cannot help but crack up in laughter. 

Ava and Nat instantly start arguing like an old married couple about repairing that hole.

But as the argument grows in length, Sadie’s attention is caught by a flash of light in the middle of the room. She could have sworn the Christmas tree wasn’t turned on when she  got here earlier this afternoon.

Farah, noticing her confusion, leans in her direction. “I set a timer,” she whispers, “although magic would have been cool!” She adds like she had just guessed what the human was thinking.

“You can do that with Christmas lights?” Sadie asks, genuinely surprised by that fact.

“Nat bought really fancy ones” Farah explains and Sadie can’t help but chuckle at this. 

Knowing Nat she should have known everything they had gotten to decorate the place was really expensive and she dares not imagine how much she actually paid. But judging by the tree sitting in the middle of the room, she probably spent more than Sadie’s salary this month.

This tree is so gigantic it’s almost comical. Upon seeing it, her first thought had been about Ava having a heart-attack when she first saw it and having another one when Nat asked her to bring it inside. Because although Nat could probably make Ava do anything as long as she used her best pleading eyes, Sadie is still wondering what Nat could have possibly bribed Ava with so that she accepted to do it. Not that she doubts Ava could do it, in fact, Sadie knows Ava can haul a tree without any difficulty. It’s just that her brain still cannot comprehend how she managed to fit that ginormous tree - that almost touches the high ceiling and takes up half of the room - through the tiny doors of the warehouse.

Yet it’s not the size that made Sadie burst into laughter when she first saw it, but rather the wide array of colors ornating it and she instantly guesses Farah had been the one doing the decoration.

She remembers the young vampire, less than a couple weeks ago, begging Ava to get a Christmas tree so that, as she put it, she could get the best of the human experience. But the commanding agent had refused, so Sadie supposes Farah must have changed strategy after that refusal and pulled on Nat’s heartstrings so that she would indulge her, like she always does, especially when Farah pulls the ‘I never got to be human’ card.

And today, Sadie was met with this… She’s not quite sure how to describe it. Calling it an atrocity would be quite harsh, but this is definitely a little bit of an eyesore. It’s like Farah had randomly grabbed garlands and ornaments and let her excitement take over when she put them on the tree. It kind of reminds her of that time her kindergarten teacher would let them decorate the Christmas tree in her room every year.

Sadie still has to hold back a laugh when she thinks of Nat’s reaction when she first saw it. She actually snorted when they decided to settle in the living room and saw Nat scrunching her nose at the sight of it, desperately trying to hide the fact that she disliked the arrangement. Before that, she had even caught her trying to arrange some of the garlands a little more neatly and actively replacing some. Nat had begged her not to tell Farah.

There’s a loud grunt by her side and Sadie realizes Ava and Nat have stopped arguing. And it seems like Ava has already played her turn. The dreidel they both share is laying on the table and she can’t believe her eyes. Ava has to put another token into the pot.

“This isn’t fair,” the vampire grunts.

“You’ve just got bad luck,” Nat tries to soothe her.

“My spinning wasn’t optimal. The cat sleeping in my lap is reducing my range of movement.”

“Are you really blaming the sheriff because you’re losing?” Sadie asks, offended.

“All I’m saying is that I couldn’t spin the dreidel properly.”

“Yet you’re still petting the cat,” Farah points out.

Ava’s mouth opens as she looks for something to say, but nothing comes out and instead she readjusts her position to accommodate the sheriff as he shifts in her lap. Sadie shakes her head, forces herself to look away not to let her feelings transpire. Yet she can’t hide the soft smile tugging at her lips after noticing the fondness with which Ava looks at her cat. Neither can she hide her heart beating a little too erratically.

She clears her throat. “It’s your turn, Nat,” she announces, barely hiding her attempt at changing the subject.

Yet as the small wooden top starts its rotation, her attention is brought back to the vampire sitting beside her.

Ava is readjusting the hairless cat’s sweater. She tugs on it, making sure it covers most of the sheriff’s body, despite the fact that it's not cold inside the warehouse. She rolls the little collar properly so that it doesn’t bother him, and when she’s done she scratches him behind the ears, a spot he particularly likes.

She likes catching these moments where the commanding agent briefly lets her guard down. These moments where her caring nature shows. Not only with her cat, but also with the members of the team. When she helps Nat to cook, despite the fact that she herself doesn’t eat. When she listens to Farah’s new interest that week and actively asks questions so that Farah knows she’s listening even though she doesn’t really understand what she’s saying. How she closes the blinds without a word when the sun shines a little too brightly through the windows, bothering Morgan. How she often comes to check on her when she’s sleeping over at the warehouse, making sure Sadie has everything she needs.

Despite how much she hates admitting it, she cares deeply for every single one of them.

Ava looks at her, a puzzled look on her face, and Sadie quickly reverts her eyes. She tries to find something else to look at other than the vampire sitting beside her, and her eyes land on the menorah sitting on the mantel.

This is the first menorah she has lit in years and, to be honest, she didn’t expect to find one here today - just like she wasn’t expecting the Christmas tree. But what really moved her was its beauty.

Sadie is usually not a material person, but this menorah is amazingly well-crafted. 

It looks a little bit like a tree made out of brass. The trunk divides into two branches, on each of them sits four flowers to hold the eight candles. The ninth flower sits in the middle, slightly higher than the others, and holds the shamash. 

Vines spread out  on each side of the trunk and rise to coil around the two branches holding the candles. On those vines are carved small, intricate flowers.

Upon seeing it, she teared up a little at the thought that Nat must have spent so much time carefully picking such a gorgeous menorah for her.

And so, after the sunset, before they started playing, she kindled the first candle, answering Farah’s questions about its meaning.

Someone taps on her shoulder, bringing her attention back to the game. They’re all looking at her expectantly and she understands that they’re waiting for her to add another token to the pot so that they can start another round of spinning, meaning she’s left with only one glass pebble.

Ava hands her the dreidel. She spins it and once again she’s crossing her fingers.

Sadie looks around herself as the spinning top starts wobbling. Ava is discreetly trying to pet her cat who purrs in the vampire laps, making the others chuckle. Farah whispers something to Morgan and they share a mischievous look and the detective wonders what they’re up to, although she’ll come to know sooner or later. Nat is sipping on her tea, keeping a fond eye on each of them and she smiles when their gaze meets.

The dreidel lands on ‘Shin’, but Sadie doesn’t care. She does feel a tinge of disappointment, especially since she has just taught them to play. But after all, this game is all about luck and she realizes she’s been lucky enough to find a new family this year, so maybe that’s all the luck she needed. 

[lifeofamarauder]

The Dark Prince 1

Mattheo Riddle x Odette 

Part 1 <3 (it gets more spicy as we go but you first need to SUFFER)

Word count- 1,313 words

I wrote this not from Y/n perspective but let me know if you want me to post that version as well if you prefer it! I tried not to use too many descriptors for Odette, other than her house and family names.

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Intro: I had a few quiet first years at Hogwarts. I explored the castle, read books in the library, and even brought a black cat to join me my in fourth year. It was all so quiet and nice. Until he came along.

.

.

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I'm officially fifteen.

I'm officially fifteen and I have planned absolutely nothing for today. If my mum were here she would be scolding me about not having planned some grand party in the astronomy tower or at the very least invited my friends to Hogsmeade then getting drunk off of butterbeer and pumpkin ale. I couldn't tell her how impossible this was seeing as the only person who knew and cared about my birthday was Luna, a fourth year who would join me and jinx (my adorable kitten I brought with me last year) reading together or playing wizards chess. I also could never tell her how horrible I was at wizards chess and that miss Luna Lovegood beat me every time. I value my life too much for that, though I don't mind either of these things myself. But I am truly the antithesis of her.

My mother is a kind woman, as long as you are one of her party guests or my older brother, Silas. Two years older than me and more perfect than any other Ravenclaw Purebred around, Silas may as well be a Prince according to my mother. He even became Prefect this year. We're all so very thrilled (or so I'm told).

But today, I get to do whatever I want, and I don't need to tell anyone else about it. Today is the one day of the year I can be completely selfish and introverted. I only take this one day to myself, as my mother and my brother take control of my other 364.

I pet Jinx and move her off my chest before I set out some toys for her to entertain herself while I'm gone. Even though I know she will just end up sitting at the window watching ravens fly by the tower, I want to make sure she has anything she might need. I've never met a more spoiled cat and honestly? She deserves it.

I manage to make it all the way to the library without running in to Silas or his Quidditch buddies who would immediately notify him about my whereabouts. I'll count that as my first birthday gift of the day. I'm all prepared to sit in my favorite nook debating for around 30 minutes over which book to read first (I brought 3 just in case) when I notice someone in my spot.

Now, I didn't pick this spot my first year for its comfortable sitting or bright lighting, I picked it solely for it's purpose that it would be the very last place someone else would try to sit.

If this were any other day, I would walk away and decide to read in the astronomy tower or the empty corridor by the DADA classroom, which will most certainly be empty on a Saturday, but today is MY day. So I suck it up and decide to ask him to kindly leave him. I stand there awkwardly looking at his back and impulsively choose to poke him to get his attention.

His dark eyes immediately look up and I take a moment to fully look at his face now. He has a scar forming on his nose and another on his cheek that looks like it's been there a few years now. My breath catches when we make eye contact and I'm struck by how dark and deep his eyes are as they bore into mine.

I realize I'd been standing there staring at him for longer than I should, and shake my head a little to clear my thoughts before I force myself to continue.

"Can you move?"

Smooth.

He just keeps staring at me, his dark curls falling in his face, so I gather what's left of my courage and force out another sentence, slightly stronger this time.

"I need this seat. Can you please move to somewhere else?"

He, again, doesn't say anything, but this time his eyes darken slightly and he has the faintest hint of a smile.

I force myself not to smile back but unfortunately I cannot hide the blush escaping. I open my mouth to elaborate once more when he finally says something.

"What's your name Princess?"

I'm taken aback by the unexpected pet name. Princess? I just met this guys and he thinks its ok to call me Princess? He just keeps sitting in my seat, not acknowledging my request and SMIRKING at me. My desire to smile at him is gone, now taken over by annoyance. Who does he think he is?

"Apologies your highness, you must not have heard me. Honestly." I roll my eyes to give full effect of my annoyance. "I just want-"

"I mean I'm more than happy to keep calling you 'Princess', Princess, I just thought your name might be more favorable to you." he interrupts me while turning back to his book. And wouldn't you know, he's STILL smirking. I'm starting to lose it.

"You most certainly may not keep calling me Princess, my name is Odette and it's my birthday and all I want for this one day is to read in my spot where no one will bother me and maybe if I'm feeling adventurous I'll steal some hot chocolate up to my room and read THERE until I fall asleep and have to wake up and then once again do everything else for everyone else until I can't take it anymore!!!"

I realized my voice was rising and I had begun gesturing quite frantically but I kept eye contact with him. A small win. His smirk was still there, but this time his mouth was more agape and he looked like he was slightly shocked by my sudden outburst. And maybe impressed? I can't tell. I'm too shocked myself at my outburst that I can barely register anything else. I take deep breaths and try to calm my heart.

He slowly closes his book and stands up. I hide my head in embarrassment until I see his feet come almost in contact with mine as he backs me up into the bookshelf. My eyes shoot up and lock instantly with his which does nothing to calm my heart. I swear his face gets closer and I can feel his breath tickling my face but I'm unable to look away. He pulls in close to my ear and whispers, "My name's Mattheo but by all means, please keep calling me 'your highness'."

He pulls back only slightly to look at me, my face flaming by this point. The corners of his mouth lift up once more and he looks down to where I'm clutching my books in my hands. His hand reaches out and I think maybe he's coming in closer and I instinctively flutter my eyes closed. Instead, I feel one of the three books I'd long forgotten being pulled out of my hands. Mattheo steps slightly away from me, making the space he left suddenly feel cold.

He inspects the cover and looks back up at me before simply saying, "This is one of my favorites." He sets the book down on our table and he starts to walk off. I shake my head once more trying to clear it of whatever just happened.

"Happy birthday, Princess!" he calls over his shoulder.

I begin to call after him, feigning annoyance, to say that is not my name once more but he's already vanished.

I look back to the spot I just won back expecting to feel more victorious, though it suddenly looks much less enticing then it did minutes ago.

I sit down across from the book he laid on the table and attempt to pick through the two that he didn't touch but I tell myself I'm only curious as I pick through the one he claimed was his favorite.

I become fully immersed in the story and fail to notice the jealous eyes that had been peaking out at me from behind the shelves.

[thevindicativevordan]

Comics this week ?

Superman #18 - Farewell Campbell, I loved your art on this book when you were actually able to draw it. Most enjoyable part of the Absolute Power event was this tie-in, rarely get to see Supes and Zee team up. Do need to reiterate that all the writers who make a big deal that "Superman never lies/Superman is bad at lying" are making themselves look foolish. Waid at least has tried to justify it in interviews by saying *his* Superman never directly lies as Superman, but Clark is a proficient liar no matter how you try and spin it.

World's Finest #31 - Boring start. Waid defied my expectations with the Imp arc, but this appears like it will live down to my expectations of being half-assed. Reads like Waid is sleepwriting, Eclipso and the JSA have never held my interest and this doesn't appear set to change that. I do want to shout out Gutierrez, his art is fantastic. He's great at drawing facial expressions to sell the comedy bits and he's great at fight scenes.

Wonder Woman #13 - Diana blocking bullets despite being powerless was awesome and the Diana/Steve flirting here was cute. Otherwise this sucked like the last two issues did. I finally get why people hate Damian, he is insufferable here. Normally his bluster is entertaining but here the stilted delivery King writes his dialogue in irritates me. At least it's finally over and we can get back to the main storyline.

Jenny Sparks #2 - Jenny being this emotionally affected by 9/11 is the most ridiculous thing since Doom cried over the Twin Towers. She's done plenty of genocides all by herself, knocking down two buildings is her equivalent to a cat getting stuck in a tree. All the grawlixes need to go, King overuses them to the point it's hard to follow what the characters are actually saying. That said, Jenny and Clark having had a fling in their past is perfect and everyone who got mad at that can get bent. Another $820 billion to Tom King for a Superman mini with Jenny in it please.

Incredible Hulk #17 - First time since Immortal Hulk where I've let out several "holy shit" reactions. Don't think this book will surpass GL: WJ as the peak of PKJ's cape work, but I'm back to being eager for the next issue like I was during the Warworld Saga.

[draconic-ichor]

The Cat, The Sun, and The Moon

Fnaf

Part 1

Sun/moon x female oc

Warnings: strong language, fire, brief mentions of blood/violence

Summary: Tabby is a Tech that works for Fazbear Entertainment. Late one night, a routine service call spirals into a life and death situation, and she makes a life changing decision…

Feedback appreciated, 18+

It was already past eleven at night when another car pulled into the parking lot of the Freddy Fazbear's Mega Pizzaplex. Tabby stepped into the night, pulling her employee jacket tighter around her.

She huffed, looking around.

Must have been the only one to answer…she thought.

Late nights like this were not uncommon for her; a mixture of her love of overtime pay mixed in with her vapid social life. When the main system would encounter hiccups, corporate would send out calls to all the techs.

Tonight was, seemingly, no different.

Picking up her overnight bag after forgoing locking her car, she headed inside.

It was already quiet, the far off sounds of the arcade just audible over the hum of countless fluorescent lights. A stark contrast to the building during open hours.

Punching in, Tabby went further into the plex.

The side entrance took her right past the Daycare, always finding time to stop in and say hello to the Daycare animatronic if they weren’t too busy.

That animatronic in particular was not too liked by the staff or general public, that fact and many more causing them to worm a soft spot in her heart.

Pushing open the oversized doors, eyes bombarded with all the over-saturated colors of the rainbow followed by the heavy smell of plastic.

“Sun?!” She called out.

Seconds after the word left her lips the man of the hour burst into view. Sun jumped up, “Hello!”

“Hello!” She smiled, “How are things?”

“Oh swell.” He answered brightly, “We had so so so much fun.”

“It sure looks like it.” Tabby noticed all the toys strewn about still.

“Ah…yes.” He followed her gaze, bouncing over to pick up a large stacking block. He began building one of the many block towers he had about the daycare, “You usually are off on Thursdays.”

“I got called in. Sector three is sending out codes again.” She responded.

“Awfully late.” Sun pointed out, “Doors will be locked till morning soon, sunshine.”

She shrugged, prepared for a long night. “I packed some food and I have my music.” She thumbed through her bag as she spoke.

“Nutritional food?” Sun pressed, placing another large stacking block on the tower.

“….well.” She looked away, red.

Sun put his hands on his hips showily, turning fully toward her in a snap, “Tabitha!”

“Oh the full name.” She giggled, nose crinkling as she did so, “Please Sun, have mercy!” Her voice was thick with mock fear as she tried to stifle her giggling.

He started listing off all the health concerns that came with malnutrition, sounding displeased.

“I’ll be fine.” She waved him off, shifting the strap on her bag into a more comfortable position. Clearing her throat to get the huffy animatronic to pause his mother henning, she regretfully informed, “I really need to go get started on this.”

He drooped a bit but nodded in understanding, gesturing to the rest of the daycare, “Gotta clean.”

“Oh!” She snapped, remembering. Tabby swirled around at the door, calling out, Hey Sun!”

“Yeeeessss?”

“Let Moon know I brought both my headphones and my Bluetooth speaker.” She informed, “Just in case he wants to stop by during the hourly resets.”

“I’ll…let him know.” As soon as the words left his voicebox he paused what he was doing, holding still for a moment. It was a tell of his, when speaking to Moon.

“What did he say?” She asked, leaning on the heavy door.

“Well…” Sun’s rays drooped a bit.

“Even if it’s mean.” She added, expectantly.

“He rudely said you listen to trash.” Sun admitted.

“We’ll see.” She gave a smile, waving goodnight before making her escape.

Sun brightened to wave back, watching her go. His optics stayed trained on the door long after it closed, clutching a discarded toy.

M: Only humoring us…

“Quiet you.” Sun grumbled under his breath.

~

The system was much worse than she expected, settling in to work at one of the large computers. As the hours bled by she realized that she’d been completely alone…

Tabby shifted in her seat, pushing the odd sounds she’d heard to the back of her mind. Something wasn’t right.

Just as she’d get close to fixing one problem, two more systems would slip into a warning mode; files becoming corrupted. A knot started to form in her stomach, the worry of a virus infecting the main system starting to become more and more likely.

Just as she was about to pull her phone out the computer in front of her turned red with a large warning.

FIRE

Simultaneously the alarm started blaring overhead, forcing Tabby to her feet. She took a sharp breath.

Picking up her back she rushed out of the door, lights were flashing overhead as she ran. The security door was ahead of her, Tabby fumbling with her keycard. It swiped but the door wouldn’t budge.

The horrid smell of smoke and burning wire trickled into her senses.

Panic rose as she swiped the card another time, trying to manually open it shortly after.

“No no no no.” She chanted, door sealed.

Her mind was filled with all the warnings about this company, the plethora of reasons why not to work for them. Memories of the lack of employee safety protocols came to the forefront as she banged on the door with closed fists.

The scream for help echoed off the metal walls, the smell of smoke thickening.

Tabby sank to her knees, beating on the door with growing desperation.

She knew this was the only exit…and she there were less than a handful of people still working at the oversized building…

She slipped in and out of consciousness, eyes stinging and throat threatening to close up against the unrelenting smoke.

She blinked up, tears making streaks through the ash on her cheeks, realizing she was being carried. A mess of melting plastic and metal looked back at her. Had she been in better mind she’d be terrified, thrash against the hold. But she wasn’t in better mind, the smoke smothering her.

The animatronic burst through the doors into the night, the sudden oxygen causing the fire to swell forcing them to stumble forward and drop the person they’d be carting. They crawled closer, large hands touching the person’s side.

Still breathing.

Still breathing…

Suddenly realizing they were out of bounds, the animatronic stood, turning back to the doorway, to the flames. Their body was broken, energy waning, connection to the server snapping.

They were suddenly alone, lost, outside.

But also their head was clearer than it had been in a long while. With the loss of the server so came the merciful reprieve from the virus that had been poisoning their every thought.

They fell to their knees, static wheezing from their voice-box.

By the time Tabby awoke, breathing air into her lungs, her savior was unresponsive. She shakily stood, fully illuminated by the fire, stumbling towards the animatronic.

It was Sun? Maybe Moon?

She couldn’t tell, any of the features that would tell them apart burned away. She choked, seeing them in such a state, sinking to her knees to pull their faceplate up.

An optic blinked to life, glowing softly as it looked up to meet her wet gaze.

“Sun?!” She exclaimed, “You’re alive!” She pulled him close, hugging him to her, “It’s ok, it’s ok.”

Their body moved ever so slightly, making a whirring clicking.

Tabby looked up into the fire, hearing the far off blare of sirens. Panic seeped into her bones. Mind racing she looked between the broken animatronic in her arms to the building. It was gone…they would come and find the animatronics in states like this. They would…they would…

She swallowed bile back down her stinging throat.

“We have to go.” She struggled to stand, dragging the animatronic with her. Mind made up, she did everything she could to get them to her car. Placing them in the backseat she heard a staticy sound hiss out, doing her best to sooth, “It’s going to be alright.”

Hopping in the driving seat, her keys still thankfully in her pocket, making their escape before any of the responders made it to the scene.

Street lights blinded her, eyes watery as she blinked away the pain. The realization of exactly what she was doing dawned on her.

Sun? Moon? Both of them were fazbear property, despite how human they seemed. She bit her lip, knowing she couldn’t leave them.

Tabby looked in her rearview mirror. They had shifted, faceplate against one of the back windows, optics looking up into the night sky as she sped towards her apartment.

Stars

They thought, reaching up a bit towards the glass.

~

Getting them into the apartment building was a job in itself, getting them into the elevator another. The animatronic could assist in walking only slightly, leaning heavily on the tech to get them further.

By the time they made it to her apartment, Tabby was exhausted, the taste of copper on her tongue and clothes sweat through.

“Come on.” She helped them inside, sitting them down softly on the living room floor. She coughed, straightening to wobble into the kitchen. Leaning over the sink she filled a glass with shaking hands from the faucet.

Bringing it to her lips she began to tremble with the loss of adrenaline.

What the fuck was she doing?

She almost dropped the glass. The sound of metal drew her attention, rushing back into the main room to find the animatronic curled into the corner.

Tabby came close, sitting beside them on the floor. After a long moment of listening to the whirling of their gears she spoke.

“Is this Sun…or Moon?” She asked gently, watching the other closely.

The animatronic’s ruined face held her gaze for a long moment, mismatched glowing optics wobbling ever so slightly, before tilting down. A rasping hiss escaped their voice box, ending in a garbled mess of static.

She frowned, heart clenching a bit. Reaching out tentatively, she took their hand, drawing it close. The second contact was made, their faceplate lifted to watch intently.

“One tap for Sun, two taps for Moon.” She instructed.

Looking back at her face, the animatronic seemed to think over their answer. Hand twitching to life, it carefully enveloped her knee, cracked fingers sprawling over her leg.

She gulped.

Index finger raising, taping twice before pulling away.

“Moon?” She questioned, finding him looking away. His posture was more hunched, curled in on himself now that she knew.

“You saved me…” she breathed, gratitude mixed heavily with confusion.

His face snapped back to hers. Glowing optics wide.

He gave a small nod.

“I…well I didn’t even think you liked me.” She admitted.

He held her gaze, unmoving.

“I’m going to fix you, ok?” She spoke softly, determination in her voice.

He turned away, curling in on himself against the wall, uncertain.

She bit her lip, standing on wobbly legs, deciding to give them needed space.

She soaked in a warm bath, sucking on a cough drop. Everything hurt, water turning a dark color from a mixture of grime and dried blood. The reality of the situation sank deeper in her bones, the thought of going to the hospital soon to follow.

No…

She had to come up with something, anything. A reason why she wasn’t there at the time of the fire, why she couldn’t have stolen one of the animatronics in a panic.

She closed her eyes, she’d think of something in the morning…

She had to.

[burning-fcols]

Travis can't help it. He doesn't like what he's seeing & why should he? Anthony was practically hanging all over that cat looking guy! Drooling by the looks of it! It stirs something ugly in the pit of his stomach & a growl bubbles from the back of his throat. Yes, Angel is a porn star, yes he was bound to flirt. But to where he could see it? When it wasn't even for work? That guy looked like he was getting genuine flirts & that alone wasn't fucking fair! After all he cared for Anthony. Was even going so far as to having his back during a tough work day & this was what he got to see in turn? Hands are clenched into tight fists as he waits until the other guy left the scene before striding up to Angel, looking clearly torn between angry & just disappointed. "You've got some fucking nerve. Who is he, huh?" ( uh-oh :'3 -sends another jelly bean- ) - ✧ ˖ ˙ 「 @Qᴜᴇꜱᴛɪᴏɴᴀʙʟᴇᴍᴜꜱᴇꜱ 」 ˙ ˖ ✧

「 ☆ 」 Ever since that first after-work conversation with Travis— a genuine, surprisingly non-creepy one —things have been changing between them. Not intentionally; Angel is smart enough not to seek a listening ear from the guy whose life mission is to get back in the porn star’s pants. That’s just asking for obnoxious attempts at manipulation. But Travis is a persistent sort. Only lately, his relentlessness has reared its head in ways that DON’T make Angel want to rip out the other’s feathers. Who would have thought Travis could be kinda sweet when not drooling all over the place? In a way that, reluctant as Angel is to fully believe it, doesn’t seem fake.

Still laced with selfish intent ( as things always are ) but— crazy as it sounds —it feels more like he’s being romanced than seduced. As if the crazy avian thinks he has a shot at MORE than another fuck. As if Angel could ever be allowed to pursue more, even if he wanted to. Which he doesn’t. He can’t. Not letting himself entertain such stupid hypotheticals, Angel had tried to leave such troubles BEHIND him along with the work day. But apparently, he wouldn't be allowed even that reprieve.

Startling at the unexpected newcomer, Angel abruptly stops before he can follow Husk through the doors of the hotel. Having ran into the bartender taking a breather outside— needing to get away from whatever bat-shittery was going on in the lobby —Angel hadn't wasted the opportunity for good-natured flirting banter. Hoping to distract himself from the headache of a Director he THOUGHT he left behind and fervently trying to ignore how his actions felt more playful than serious. How interacting with Husk ( despite being a comfort ) didn't elicit the same... confusing tightness in Angel's chest. One would think that'd be a good thing.

It's not.

Tensing, he rolls his eyes with a mutter of ❝ Stai scherzando, cazzo. ❞ before sharply turning on his heel to face Travis. Speaking louder so the other can hear, fur bristles as he emits an indignant scoff and dryly retorts, ❝ Oh— I've got some fuckin' nerve? Big talk comin' from th' STALKA' on my fuckin' doorstep. ❞ Fists clenched at his sides, one arm dramatically sweeps across himself as if motioning in the direction of the V Tower, ❝ What, suffocatin' me durin' work ain't good enough fer ya anymore? You gotta stick yer beak inta my business here 'cause I won't let ya stick yer dick inta my ass THERE? ❞

Bitterly barking out a laugh, Angel crosses his arms and questions through a sardonic smile, ❝ Or are ya here on ❛ official bus'ness ❜ ? Hmm? Y'doin' th' Vees dirty work like a loyal li'l bitch? Did one of THEM send ya here ta ruin my fuckin' night. ❞ Frankly, he doubts it. If Valentino wanted something, his phone would be blowing up. Vox likely would have sent one of his other assistants. Someone less liable to get distracted from the task at hand... and Velvette isn't the type to work through people who aren't directly under HER influence. But Angel spats out the accusation regardless, hoping to remind Travis exactly WHAT connects them.

They both happen to belong to the same shitty group of people. Nothing more.

He purposely ignores the question about Husk— he's not about to throw around specific names to someone with a jealous demeanor and access to Valentino —hoping to throw Travis off-balance enough for him to neglect to realize he didn't actually get an answer. 「 ☆ 」

[fanmoose12]

Hi, I'm sending you a probably weird but funny prompt.

Hange us new to the apartment complex. When she's in the elevator a dark haired man calls out her name and of course she thinks someone's calling her but in reality this man had a brown tabby cat who entered the elevator and stared up at her. The man picks the cat up.

"Is your cat called Hange?" she asks suppressing a giggle.

The man narrows his eyes at her. "yes"

"Well, this is a coincidence. My name's Hange too."

The cat meows.

Hange is at her limit.

The long week, the mountains of boring, tedious assignments that Erwin has entrusted upon her have drained all of her energy, left her with little to no strength. There is just enough of it left for her to turn off the computer, compile all her notes into an uneven paper tower and shuffle out of the office (she'd never hear the end of it from Erwin if she spent yet another night behind her work desk). Her patience far too thin to deal with busses' irregular schedules, Hange hauls a taxi and soon arrives to the entrance of her apartment complex. She heads straight to the elevator, not even entertaining the idea of crossing all five flights of stairs tonight, all benefits of a regular cardio be damned, waits until the elevator opens its rusty doors before her and walks inside.

Her eyes shut closed, as soon as the doors of the elevator closes, and by the time the loud ding announces her arrival, Hange is already beginning to doze off.

Just a few more steps, she tries to encourage herself, as she walks out of the elevator and into the dark hallway leading to her apartment. The lonely bulb that flickers off and on is the only source of light in the hallway, Hange briefly thinks of complaining about it to the owner, but quickly comes to conclusion that it's a problem for another day.

She enters, makes no more than a couple of steps towards her apartment, when she hears,

"Hange! Hange, damn you, where did you go?"

Uh oh, Hange thinks, as the voice gets clearer, harder to ignore, you really did it this time, Zoe. You've really reached that point of exhaustion when hallucinations start to appear.

Oh well. At least, she knows it's a hallucination. It means that she's not going completely crazy. Yet.

Hange sighs, rubs her forehead with a palm, and promptly decides that it too is a problem for another day. She resumes her walking, and almost instantly - the voice appears again.

"Hange! Hange!"

Hange tries to ignore it, although it's hard - the voice is insistent, and, as the still functional part of her mind registers, vaguely attractive. It's a bit rough, and even though the tone is undeniably disgruntled, the voice is deep, husky and Hange...

Hange shuts that train of thought, mentally chastising herself. An auditory hallucination is a bad sign as it is, she really shouldn't deteriorate it further by wondering if her hallucination is handsome or not, lest she develops the visual hallucination as well.

"Hange! Come on, get out of here already. You make me look an idiot."

She sees him just as she approaches the front door of her apartment. The lightbulb flickers on right above her head, allowing Hange to take a good look. She sees a man - vaguely her age, with straight black hair, fair skin, high cheekbones and a jawline so sharp it can probably cut glass. Hange stares at him, blinking slowly, in utter awe, she really... She really hopes he's not a hallucination.

"Um?" Hange comes to stand next to him, her hand reaching out to his shoulder. "Why are you looking for me?"

The man recoils sharply, his eyes wide and startled as they meet her. "What?" he grits out, swiftly masking his suprise behind feigned nonchalance. "I'm not looking for you. I don't even know who you are."

"But..." Hange feels lost, but only for a moment. She shakes her head, returning her resolve. "Just now, you were calling out to me."

"I wasn't," he bluntly denies and doesn't even have the gull to blush while doing so. Hange isn't sure if she should be angry or impressed.

"You were! You were yelling 'Hange, Hange'! That's my name."

"Oh..." now, some sheepishness creeps into the man's features. "That's... That's also my cat's name. There she is, the brat."

Hange raises her eyes to where he's pointing at, sees an old wardrobe her neighbour can't be bothered to get rid off, and there, right on its top... sits a brown ball of fur. A cat. Named Hange.

Her exhaustion is probably to blame, but another beat of silence follows before she bursts into laughter. She grips her sides, uncaring of the man's heavy glare, and continues laughing, letting out the weeks of pent up frustration.

"Nothing funny about it," the man grumbles, arms crossed on his chest. "She refuses to get down from here."

When her mirth subdues a little, Hange takes another look at her new acquaintance, then turns back to the wardrobe. Oh, so that's the root of the problem - he's too short to reach the top of the wardrobe. Hange lets out another giggle at that thought.

She rises to her tiptoes, flashes a smug grin at the man, then takes the cat in her hands. The cat - Hange - doesn't even protest and settles down in the circle of her arms, immediately beginning to purr. Hange smiles, scratching behind cat's ear.

"Traitor," the man mutters. He extends his hands towards Hange, means to take the cat away from her, but Hange evades him gracefully.

"Uh huh," she tuts, pressing the cat closer to her chest. "Not so quickly. I want something in return."

The man gives her a critical look, the frown on his forehead deepens, but after a second of contemplating, he gives in. "And what do you want?"

"Your name," Hange says, and, feeling bolder, adds, "And a cup of coffee."

"Huh?"

"Well, it's only fair - you know my name already. And we must go on a date."

"Really?" the man rises his perfect eyebrow. "And why is that?"

Hange smiles. "Because your cat is named Hange and you lost it near my apartment. Clearly... it's fate."

In response to her brilliant deduction, she gets a mere roll of eyes. "It's just a coincidence."

"No, it's fate."

"Coincidence."

"Fate," Hange repeats, too stubborn to give up so easily.

"Coincidence," he shoots back, just as firmly.

"Fate!"

"Coincidence."

"Fate!"

"Coinci- ah, fuck it," frustated, he runs a hand through his hair, messing his previously neat hairdo. Hange stares at him in utter wonder, feeling hot all over. "Alright, I'll go on that date with you. Just give my cat back."

Hange's eyes begin to sparkle, smile blooms on her face. The cat continues to purr in her hands. "And your name? You promised it as well, remember?"

"I didn't promise shit," the man mumbles, but despite the grumpiness of his tone, his eyes soften. At least, Hange thinks they do. The poor lighting makes it very hard to tell. "But fine. It's Levi. Happy?"

"Ecstatic," she says, without an ounce of sarcasm. She really is happy. Still unbelievably tired, but... not nearly as beaten and bitter as before.

She hands Levi his cat with a smile, giggles when another Hange snuggles closer to her owner, and takes a step back, ready to finally enter her apartment and fall in a deep, deep slumber.

"Well... I'll be going," she lifts a hand, waves a bit at both Levi and his Hange. "Good night."

"Good night," Levi echoes, still not moving from his place. Strange... Hange thought he'd make a run for it as soon as he got his cat back. But he lingers, appearing almost shy. "Tomorrow night, at seven," he says at last, looking in her eyes with an uncertain expression. "I'll come to pick you up, alright?"

"I'll be waiting," Hange promises and quickly unlocks her front door, disappearing behind it to hide her burning cheeks and giddy smile.

She leans on the door for a bit, listens intently, waiting for the sound of Levi's retreating footsteps. Before she hears them, she hears something else - a quiet, but possibly fond snort. Then Levi walks away, and Hange finally heads to bed.

In those few minutes that she needs to fall asleep, she thinks about their meeting, about soft look in Levi's eyes, about his fond snort and comes to one possible correct conclusion: it definitely was fate.

[lavila27]

Priscilla- a movie review by Lauren Avila

Curiosity is a strong emotion. As the saying goes, curiosity killed the cat. Who knows what drew the metaphoric cat to its demise, perhaps an irresistible scent, the thrill of the hunt, something shiny… one may never know. For me, it was the new Elvis Presley movie that just hit theaters. Of course, the online world seems to forget that it is in fact not the newest Elvis movie but rather, a movie about his seemingly controversial ex-wife, Pricilla. This movie made headlines long before its Venice Film Festival world premiere. When the news that Jacob Elordi, of “Euphoria” fame, was cast as Elvis Presley the internet was let loose conveniently at the start of the 2022 award season. The production of this film came right on the heels of Baz Luhrmann’s “Elvis,” which skyrocketed its star, Austin Butler. to Hollywood’s A-list status with accompanying award nominations. Even in spite of the inevitable comparison battle, this movie has built-in hostility that it's up against. “Priscilla” is based on Priscilla Presley’s often refuted memoir, “Elvis and Me.” The book, co-written by Sandra Harmon, unveiled many shocking anecdotes pertaining to the person Elvis was behind closed doors. However, Priscilla has retracted or altered stories over the years since its release. It has also recently been revealed that prior to her unexpected passing, Elvis and Priscilla’s daughter, the late Lisa Marie, was adamantly against the making of this film because she anticipated that it would portray her father unfairly. So with all this in mind, how did the film turn out? Read ahead for my honest thoughts.

***SPOILER WARNING- the following review contains spoilers about the book and movie***

“Priscilla” opens with a noticeable reminder that Elvis Presley Enterprises did not allow his catalog of music to be used. Frankie Avalon’s “Venus” is played soon into the film to set the decade. Its instrumental is also reprised later. Other songs used throughout the movie suited the story and era in a sufficient way as to make one forget that one hasn’t heard a single Elvis song in a movie about Elvis. Well, except for one but more on that later. What else is obvious is how the budget of the director, Sofia Coppola, was used. The film, from color schemes to costumes to sets to performances, is understated and utilizes soft tones that remain throughout. I felt like the entire movie came across as a motion picture with the glitzy-Hollywood filter removed. It looked and felt very realistic, coming from a personal standpoint. Cailee Spaeny, who plays the title character, effortlessly conveys Priscilla’s youth and innocence. She is soft-spoken, apprehensive, and obedient to any and all. While based on truth, I believe that the height difference between Jacob and Cailee was really emphasized in the movie to serve as a visual symbol of the relationship. Jacob’s Elvis completely towers over Cailee’s Pricilla, which Coppola highlights often. Only minutes into the film, the audience is introduced to Jacob’s Elvis, an impressive blend of voice and mannerisms very reminiscent of the genuine article. 

The film stays very faithful to the book, bringing to life many key stories that built up and brought down Elvis and Priscilla’s union. As a whole, I felt the movie used a first-person perspective just as the book did. We, as an audience, experience the butterflies and excitement of puppy love, then the intimacy and bliss of real love, and finally the heartbreak and sadness of lost love. The film clearly shifts in acts, using pacing as a tool. The beginning is slow and steady, then the middle heats up in a whirlwind before finally coming to an abrupt end. 

While I think “Priscilla” serves as an entertaining adaptation of “Elvis and Me,” I’m not sure it acts as anything else. It didn’t bring anything new, which perhaps was its goal? If it was only made to tell a story of a girl entering an unsustainable relationship that was always a fantasy, then it did so. Now please don’t misunderstand me. There’s nothing wrong with sharing a cautionary tale of what happens when your “dreams” come true or even an angsty fairy tale. However, I feel that something was missing. This is a unique, once-in-a-lifetime love story that could have been explored a little deeper. Elvis and Priscilla had a very complex relationship that changed both of them in life and death. There’s a reason why the real Priscilla still keeps the memory of her dead ex-husband alive but a “Priscilla” audience is left wondering why. 

Nevertheless, the performances really sold this film! If I’m being honest, I feel that Jacob will be the one people leave this movie talking about. However, Cailee is not to be missed. Priscilla navigated through an unstable, unpredictable, and unbelievable life that no one could have prepared her for. Cailee brings a remarkable blend of strength and vulnerability that makes Priscilla rootable. She faces challenges but continues to be capable of surviving them over and over. 

In some ways, I think Jacob had the easier job because all he had to do was play Elvis Presley.

Not only did Jacob have to take on the role of arguably the most recognized person in history but he had to do it following Austin Butler’s highly praised performance. He had to master the  voice, the looks, and the nuances of an extremely popular yet surprisingly mysterious icon. It should’ve been impossible but I must give credit where it's due: he did it. To be fair, I think it helps that I had never seen Jacob do anything else. You may form a different opinion if you’re used to him as an Australian actor or as his characters in “The Kissing Booth” or “Euphoria.” However, I really believed him as Elvis. His physical profile is very similar which hardly needs help but I have to admit that his voice work was right on point. He’s charming, which makes it so easy to understand why Pricilla falls for him but he’s also a bit dangerous like a ticking time bomb. As the audience, you never know what to expect from him. Jacob’s Elvis is a mix of bad boy and Prince Charming, with a little druggie twist. Elvis’s drug use is highlighted so much that it begs the question: are we seeing the real Elvis or the product of medicinal influence?

Even with Cailee and Jacob succeeding in their roles individually, this movie would’ve failed if they didn’t share chemistry. Anywhere from the kissing to the yelling, these two nailed their chemistry. I believed they were in love through every stage of it. Their standout to me was the sequence when they locked themselves in their bedroom after Priscilla’s high school graduation. Cailee and Jacob sold the sizzling hot chemistry together then brilliantly crashed through the complicated emotions of two emotionally-unstable individuals in the span of less than five minutes. There are several times where emotions run high such as when Elvis throws a chair in frustration after Priscilla dislikes a song he likes, or when Elvis threatens to send Priscilla away after she accuses him of cheating, or when Elvis tries to force himself on her in Las Vegas. He threatens, manipulates, lies, and withdraws so many times that it comes somewhat as a shock when Priscilla finally decides that she’s had enough.

My biggest problem with the movie is the ways in which it did stray from the book. Granted, it was not often but when it did, it was noticeable. There were details that if not spelled out for an audience they would not understand or plot holes that they would have to fill in themselves. Book readers would recognize what happened and why, while an unknowing audience would have to assume. For example, Priscilla explained multiple times how difficult it was to maintain a closeness with Elvis when she was competing with the Memphis Mafia, Colonel Tom Parker, Vernon Presley, Larry Geller, Hollywood and its stars, and his fans for his attention. I don’t think this is stressed enough in the film. Priscilla certainly goes through her lonely times, that comes across plainly, but Elvis appears accessible when they are together. A major part of why Priscilla decides to leave in the book is because they drift too far apart, yet this appears very suddenly in the movie. The movie version of Priscilla hardly shows a concern about Elvis’s decline in physical and emotional well being but the book version noticed the changes over time. I feel these are only a few aspects that would’ve been important to incorporate. 

I also have to note a few surprises I was not expecting. There was an Elvis song featured. They managed to get “Guitar Man,” notably featured in Elvis’ 1968 Comeback Special, into this movie. Jacob “performed” as Elvis a few times in the film, including candidly playing the piano for his friends at a party and wiggling on the Vegas stage. This movie also used Dolly Parton’s “I Will Always Love You” as part of the emotional ending scene. Fans may know that Elvis wanted to record this song but Dolly wouldn’t sell her rights to it. It is massively appropriate that this is the song that is used as Priscilla resumes her independence but takes a lifelong love for Elvis with her as she leaves. The song also has special meaning because in reality, Elvis sang it to Priscilla at the end of their marriage. Most importantly, the lyrics apply in such a way that is truly touching, tragic, and beautiful. It was a perfectly poignant way to end the movie and one of my absolute favorite decisions they made. I was sobbing at that choice. 

With all the weight that this film is carrying around, it is easy to form an opinion before even sitting down to watch it. I truly expected open season on Elvis, his reputation, and his career, but I think the film told a story in a way that did not outrageously force an opinion on its audience. Sure, it leaned a certain direction but ultimately how you choose to analyze the relationship is in your control. As an Elvis fan, I don’t know if I would recommend this film to diehards. I suppose I could best caution you by saying that this film shows the reasons we (and Priscilla) fell in love with him but it also shows why she ultimately left him too. Suffice to say, you must make the decision of watching “Priscilla” with that in mind. Jacob commented in an interview that Luhrmann’s “Elvis” and Coppola’s “Priscilla” would make a good double feature and I must say that I agree with him. Finally, it is important to remember that there is nothing wrong with liking both because they are two very different stories told in two very different ways. 

I almost forgot to mention that I want to give a huge shout out to the props department because there was ample screen time, including literal prop montages, to feature classic Elvis memorabilia such as magazines, records, photographs, etc. The attention to detail was fantastic! Well done, props department!