#hook's daughter oc
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caswensworld · 6 months ago
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Here is my final theory for the ending of The Rise of Red before the movie comes out! I feel like our girls are going to redeem the Queen of Hearts and everything will be happily ever after as Life is Sweeter…
Until part 2!
As Maddox said, there are consequences messing with time so I feel like Red and Chloe will be so determined to save Auradon, they’ll forget they will have to face the aftermath so here’s how I think it’ll go
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Uliana will make it to present time or maybe her whole gang will
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Or Red and Chloe have to deal with Uliana’s descendant, my oc being Urchin as we know. My take on him is that he and his mom have been plagued with dreams of different lives cause of Red and Chloe did and now Urchin hates them.
Either way, I’m fairly certain this movie will end happily and part 2 being them having to deal with the consequences and I kinda love that. I CAN’T WAIT FOR THIS MOVIE!!!
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robomusical · 7 days ago
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Hrrrggg everything hurts. Thinking about the MegOP sparkling (I need names, but am thinking about naming her Stronghold) I’ve had rattling around in brain for the past month or so, so here goes, continuity soup because I said so. This is… a long one 😅
So we start with the usual pre war MegOP situation with Gladiator Megs and Archivist Orion, who go talk to the high council and yadah yadah, you know what happens next. (think TFP) OP gets the Matrix and Megatron is betrayed and starts up his intergalactic terrorist group (yippee!) When he finds out, Uh-Oh! He carrying and it’s Optimus’s… he freaks out pretty hard but WaveWave is there to support him during his pregnancy (Soundwaves a bit jealous about not being the one who’s currently carrying but is excited to see/raise a new spark). Eventually he has the baby and there are a few.. complications.
1. Sparklings are supposed to have strong bonds with their carrier and sire, but in Strongholds case, they have no sire bond with Optimus (the matrix prevented it), which causes her to have spark flutters (essentially heart problems) causing the little one lots of pain with no exception of expressing it but crying/being a fussy baby while she’s young. The only was they find this out is with Soundwaves telepathy, something they are VERY grateful for.
2. Megatron suffers from GREATLY from postpartum depression, and can’t even bear to look at his daughter. He can bring himself to feed her or try to establish any type of bond between the two and ends up hating her and what she stands for in his mind (having OP and trying to have a family with him)
This causes the young heiress to be raised by the deception high command with very little input on Megatrons behalf besides being an abusive mom and wanting her to be a warrior. She’s mainly being raised by Wavewave, the elite trine and Hook due to having to be in the med bay almost constantly in her sparkling hood. As a sparkling she showed major talent and interests in the arts, something that was supported by their caregivers, but almost gets beaten to death by Megatron finds out she wants to be an artist and not a warrior. (Megatron has “training” sessions with her, where she essentially gets beaten half to death but her carrier, who claims it’ll make her stronger. And when she’s finally able to beat him, she’ll be able to lead the decepticons) (this also leads to her hiding her passions) This is how she wins over Starscream and he decides to help raise/guide her (and who knows, maybe one day he or she will kill Megatron and he’ll be the leader of the decepticons) She’s raised to be a master spy (Soundwave) and interrogator/torturer (Shockwave and Starscream). Eventually though the war starts to pick up and everyone is headed to earth (think G1, but shockwave goes with the decepticons) leaving Stronghold alone on Cybertron with Rumble, Buzzsaw, Thundercraker, and the Constructicons to watch/take care of her; and her mentor Tarn (and the rest of the DJD) and a few other decepticons at about ~10 years old to Cybertronian standards. She finds herself forced to grow up and lead the Decepticons, being raised by the most ruthless and cunning bots has its advantages, and she ends up quickly taking out the Autobots on Cyberton leading the planet under Decepticon rule. However there was complications with the others (G1 style, went missing for a few billion years type-beat) She grows up a warlord, conquering Autobot territory’s and wiping them out, searching for her lost family comrades, with the Deceptions ruling the galaxy, (exterminating the Autobots and making allies with/converting Neutrals). She’s ends up creating a vast and powerful empire (Thundercraker, Hook and Tarn are very proud).
On earth is the normal G1 -> Earthspark timeline, expect I ignore everything that happens after s1. Soundwave manages to get a SOS comm into deep space, which gets intercepted to the Decepticon empire. This happens around/a little after her spark almost gave out, as her carrier/sparkling bond was broken with Megatron, which was assumed to be due to his death. This made her spark unstable, and made her even more vulnerable to her spark attacks (also her occasional maniac episodes go worse/more common) She leads a ship to Earth where she finds that not only is her carrier ALIVE, which means he LEFT her HE DOESNT WANT HER HE NEVER WANTED HER- but also joined the enemy. And started a new family, one without her This is also how she and Optimus find out they’re related, because honestly, Meg’s forgot all about her. (Also, megaton has more of a major role in the Terran’s lives, which leaves Stronghold seething, swearing to end them) ((You know when/how Megatrons calls Twitch “little bird”? THAT USED TO BE HER NICKNAME SHE USED TO BE HIS LITTLE BIRD WHEN HE WAS HAPPY WITH HER)) (think of when shockwave was racist towards the Terran’s) Stronghold finds out that the decepticons have been stranded on earth, and have been being tortured by Autobots and their human allies (GHOST). She stages a jailbreak for the others and begins to plan war with the others left on earth (she’s not leaving until Megatrons head is on a platter and she’s ripped the matrix out of OP’s chest). (They chill in the atmosphere like the Nemesis in prime) Needless to say, Shockwave Soundwave and Starscream are very surprised/proud to see her and her accomplishments (if not sad that she (now about 15) had to grow up so fast and what has happened to her)
There are a few ways this AU can end and there’ll prolly be a few alt timelines… 👀
Uhh anyways that’s it,,, I hope you like her and I will probably draw the creature soon
(Please please ask me about her and my silly little AU 🥺🥺🥺)
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hannahhook7744 · 7 months ago
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What does Hannah and her crew think of Joy Foxworth's girlfriend Fuega Madrigal ?
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Hannah thinks Fuega Madrigal is an overall nice person (though Fuega's temper definitely gave her pause at first).
All the younger kids think Fuega is a riot and like her.
The Hades' kids but heads with her, of course, since most of them are all head strong but the ones who also have control over fire definitely like being able to spar with someone who's not related to them with the same power.
And everyone else has varying opinions but at the end of the day, as long as Fuega Madrigal is with Joy and treats her right she is under their protection.
It's in the Stormbringer Crew contract. Anyone who is a member of the crew has protection for them and their loved ones (as long as those loved ones aren't an active threat to the crew).
Romantic partners (and later on, kids) who aren't crew also tend to get invited to crew gatherings (unless they're 'crew only' events like a meeting). But it's fine because that usually gives said romantic partners much needed space/a night to hang out with whoever they want (like other crewmate's non crew romantic partners).
So. Yeah. They have a decent opinion of her.
Also the only one who was really shocked that Joy and Fuega became a thing was Howiee, because the man genuinely did not know that most of the pirates he knew (including his own gf) were not straight lol.
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randomestfandoms-ocs · 2 years ago
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Randomestfandoms Turns 6 ✤ Day 5: Videos​
The Lost Girls: Rosabelle Legume; Lucette LeFou; Harley Hook; Keto Jones
I should not be left to my own devices They come with prices and vices I end up in crisis (tale as old as time) I wake up screaming from dreaming One day I'll watch as you're leaving 'Cause you got tired of my scheming (For the last time)
Tag List: want to be added?
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riveramorylunar · 2 years ago
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More Characters
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Left to Right: Aquata, Adella, Andrina, Attina, Alana & Arista
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Left to Right: Aqilus, Aquarius & Aenon
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Dawn Solari (Sun goddess)-
Age: 200+
Height: 6'0
Sexuality: Lesbian/Poly
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Astraea Callisto (Moon Goddess)-
Age: 200+
Height: 6'0
Sexuality: Lesbian/Poly
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Captain Hook-
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Mr. Smee-
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Peter Pan-
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Tinkerbell & Vidia:
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Left To Right: Dewdrop, Ivybell, Jasmine
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tunabunk · 7 months ago
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Another one of Pearl’s characteristics is that she’s extra affectionate!
> It’s mostly due to her sensory issues (in the fact that she NEEDS deep pressure therapy) that cause her to become touch starved. Hence, why she just loves to cuddle, especially with her parents.
>> All her life, she’s never ONCE received hugs or cuddles; the Octarion army stripped her of that…
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darilarostarg · 5 months ago
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To Taste
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Daemon Targaryen x female!reader
Summery: Daemon sees a pretty little Lady at a feast, and cannot help himself. 
Warming: SMUT, this is literally just pussy eating lol episode five took a toll on me
Words: 686
He didn’t mean for it to happen. His plan was to take his fill of wine and then somehow get himself to the nearest brothel. But then he saw you. Sitting alone at the end of a table, as your older husband gorged on the feast and ignored you entirely. Last time he did this, he was banished for nearly six moons after nearly causing an uprising in the Westerlands after he was caught balls deep in the daughter of Lord Reyne, two moons before she was to be wed. But you just looked so pretty, so soft, so lonely…he honestly couldn't help himself.
So here he was, on his knees, your skirts gathered around your waist, under a damp and drafty stairwell in the Tower of the Hand, with nothing but the sound of dripping water and your pretty moans. With ease, he hooked one of your legs over his broad shoulder, forcing it to wrap it around his neck just as he sinfully runs his tongue between your gooey folds; it's just as much a treat for him as it is for you. Daemon enjoyed eating out for his own pleasure, he got off on how responsive ladies were to his fingers and tongue.
"Such a sweet, little cunny," he muses as he comes up for air, eyes flitting up to your face just before he's enveloping your clit to his mouth. Your juices continue to coat chin, making it easier for him to slip his tongue downwards and glaze over your needy hole. He loved how your body melts into his ministrations, searching for more pleasure by carding your fingers through his long silver hair to press his face further into your folds.
“My Prince,” you sigh, head lolling back into the wall when he stiffens his tongue to then dip it inside of you. His fingers dig into the meat of your thighs and ass, making sure he can keep you spread enough for him to slightly nudge his nose against your clit as he moves his tongue within you.
Your fingers tighten on his roots, pushing his head back a bit and pressing him closer to you. At the same time, your hips are bucking softly after he slips two fingers into your heat, pulling his tongue from you to flick it against your clit.
Daemon can feel your leg start to weaken in stance while your other does as predicted: tightens around the back of his neck. He wouldn’t be able to pull away from the taste of you if he tried.
He continues to curl his fingers inside of you, gliding over that soft spot that has your knees buckling and breath hitching in the back of your throat. He knows how to toy with you, giving you more and more but making sure you don’t fall over the cliff without his permission. The art to his pleasure was menacing, but one he’s learned to master throughout his time in brothels, and his own, as well as other Lord’s beds. Daemon had always taken his time with his lovers… to explore, to satisfy, to taste.
The decision is split second: Daemon places your other leg onto his shoulder and keeps you pressed to the wall for him to devour. You let out a small gasp of shock at the sudden movement, but that is soon overshadowed by a long moan escaping due to him managing to slip three fingers into you while his ring covered pinky ghosted over your other hole.
However, this wasn’t your undoing, for that only arrived when he pulled his lips back a bit to spit on your clit before tonguing down the bundle of nerves and continuing to open you up on his fingers.
“Daemon! Oh, fuck! oh, fuck! Ohhh, fuck,” you whine as quickly as you can muster, both hands sinking deep into his hair so your nails scratch along his scalp as your thighs clamp tightly around his head. The feeling causes him to groan into your pussy, reeling in the pain as he plunges you into the fiery pits below.
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Authors Note:
Little mini blurb as a treat in celebration of the season finale! I am currently re-working my OC story, so I haven't been writing much else recently, but trust a sex scene will always make me wiggle out of my little dark hole.
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My masterlist can be found by click here!
You can add yourself to my taglist here or ask in the notes!
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Taglist:��@yn-jackson@ilikechocolatemilkh@velathaheigeros@anthonys-viscountess@multiversemayhemme
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forcemeanakin · 1 year ago
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Hot with brains
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•WARNINGS: SMUT.  Fingering (f receiving), oral fixation, dirty talk, praise kink and also degrading kink, corruption kink kinda??? Edging. Public space. The OC has a kink that attracts her to smart guys.
Pairing: ROTS!Anakin Skywalker x Female!reader.
Summary: Anakin falls for the librarian at the Jedi Temple, however, he soon realizes his adorable smile and golden curls won’t cut it with this one. No, she likes something different: brains. 
Word count: 4.7K. 
A/N: Pretty self-indulgent piece. I've been obsessed with Anakin's engineering brain ever since I got into Star Wars and this idea had be floating around for a whileeeee. Hope you all enjoy reading it, as much as I enjoyed writing it!
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You liked smart guys. 
It wasn’t a kink per sé. You just couldn’t see yourself hooking up with someone with no brains, let alone establishing a committed relationship with them. You were swoon by guys with deep thoughts and admirable speech skills. The type of man that would go for a whisky instead of a beer, or use real shoes instead of plain sneakers.
You being a snob might have to do with your upbringing, after all you were the daughter of two scholars and professors of one of the most prestigious universities of Coruscant. You were raised to be logical and love intellectual conversations. You wouldn’t- No. You couldn’t see yourself enjoying a space with someone with a low IQ.
That was the reasoning behind taking the internship in the Jedi Temple’s library as part of your college voluntary program. You had to volunteer a certain amount of hours in order to graduate from your Journalism degree with honors. 
You thought that even though this wasn’t exactly the area in which you were specializing, you would soak up some of the ancient knowledge of the Order, even make some great connections for the future. And so far it has been just that: A great experience. You got to read some really cool books and in the hours where no one would come, you got to finish some school work. The Jedi who would visit the library were nice and kind, always polite with a big smile. You even grew really fond of a young Togruta padawan that would spend her breaks in between training devouring books. 
It was calm and quiet. 
Until the storm broke through the door.
“Is this the one you’re looking for?” You yelled to Ahsoka as you climbed down the stairs with the title she asked for.
“Yes! Thank you, y/n!” She gave you a hug and ran to her table to start reading about the swamps in Dagobah.
You returned to your desk and kept registering the book’s codes into the control sheet when a loud sound made you look to the door, the one that was violently being thrown to open room for a tall, curly-haired man with dark robes.
You would recognize those robes anywhere. In reality, anyone from any point of the galaxy would recognize them.
Anakin Skywalker. 
One of the few exceptions of Jedi men who didn’t live up to the sophisticated standard of the Order’s image. And definitely someone you would prefer to stay away from. For some reason he was the favorite warrior of the people; the citizens would line up in front of the Temple to scream “Hero with no fear” to that pretentious douchebag.
He was fine. 
As what most people would call courageous, you would say careless. To others he was passionate, to you he was irrational. Not to mention how idiotic and unsubordinated he was; always talking back and doing things his way, ignoring what the guidelines said.
You didn’t like him. You didn’t like him at all. For that you were thankful that he never set foot into your sacred place. Until that doomed day.
“C’mon, Snips.” He shouted, approaching the desk where she sat. “We need to go. Council just called.”
“Can I have five more minutes? I’ve barely read anything about where we are going!” Ahsoka whined.
“You don’t need to read anything, we will find out anything that’s necessary there.” He huffed, finding his apprentice’s actions ridiculous. 
You quietly sighed and rolled my eyes. Of course.
“Fine… but y/n really took her time fetching it for me.” She exhaled annoyed and closed the book. 
Your eyes remained glued to your task at hand, not willing to look up and be involved in some type of pending argument.
“Who’s y/n?” Anakin scoffed rather loudly.
“Y/n! The volunteer?” Anakin frowned at the short explanation and shook his head in a negative motion. “You know, y/n! C’mon Skyguy, follow me.”
No, please no, you whispered to your insides.
“Hey, y/n!” You heard Ahsoka’s little footsteps running to where you were. 
“What can I do for you, Soka?” You answered, still pretending that you were too busy to move your head from its position.
“Skyguy hasn’t met you. Here, Anakin, y/n. She helps us out here in the library.”
“Ahsoka, we’re not supposed to be having social meetings, we need to go-” You finally gazed up and in that moment, Anakin and you made eye contact for the first time; it was intense. It felt like something clicked for him. “You must be Y/n.” Anakin shook his head lightly, hinting a little smirk as leaned over your table with fixed eyes. 
Hell, no.
“Yes, I am. How may I help you?” You were bitter, totally unbothered by his chiseled cheekbones, or his gorgeous hair, or his plumped lips. Not even the scar had any effect whatsoever. He was an ass and that was automatically a turn off for you. 
“I’m sorry I haven’t met you. You must be new.” He explained with dreamy eyes, subtly checking you out. You cursed the moment you decided to come in today with a blouse who had a bit of a cleavage. “I’m Anakin. Anakin Skywalker.”
“Actually, I’ve been here for almost two months now.” You suppressed the soul-eating need to roll your eyes.
“Oh, really? Sorry, I don’t come here much.” He leaned over even more, trying to keep eye contact even when you sat down. 
“Obviously.” You whispered on the low.
“Excuse me?” Anakin frowned, interrupting his beam to pout with confusion.
“Nothing.” You smiled widely with a fake grin. 
“Okay…” His frown deepened before a smirk broke out his lips. “Maybe I will make it a habit and visit more often.” He shrugged his shoulders, tilting his head to the side, deciphering the effects of his statement on you. 
“You should.” You looked at him and gave him a side-smile, making his eyes sparkle. “Books are good for you.” You returned to check the order of nabooian books on your computer. 
“Yeah, books are cool but there are other things I would much rather check out.” He smirked shamelessly at you, the back-handed comment flying way over his head.
You felt like gagging. Not the good kind.
Before you could come up with a clever response and shut him down for good, Ahsoka spoke from behind him.
“Ugh, gross! Let’s go!” The kid dragged him out by his clothes and before he disappeared through the glass door, he winked at you.
That was the first time you have seen him. First of many, many more. 
Since the day your paths crossed, he took every fleeting moment to come and “read”, when in reality it was just him eating, or drawing or doing anything but opening a book. Taking advantage of your breaks, or whenever you returned to your seat after doing rounds, he would come over and make conversation. About his battles, his accomplishments, his close-calls to death… or about random facts he collected from his missions and travels; Anything that would maybe impress you.
And when he wasn’t doing that? He would drown you in compliments, to see if in fact, you soften up to him. Anakin was already aware of your no-so-secret disgust towards him the day he caught one of your eye rolls.
Did he care? No. 
He was persistent: admiring your hair, loving the way you had styled it in a little bun (even though it was because the heat was eating you alive). He would ask about the tasks you were performing, sucking at pretending to be interested in hearing about organizing books in alphabetical order. 
And it would have maybe worked; his good looks combined to his natural charisma were enough to make any mortal melt at his sight. You almost combust when you saw him carrying some wood boards into the library, the primal part of you rejoicing at the sight of his strong muscles stretching. The man was eye candy, whether you like it or not.
But, boy, were you tough.
Anakin Skywalker was not your cup of tea to say the least. You wouldn’t collaborate in his attempts to get to know you. You were so uninterested in finding out more about him when you had already scanned him. Just a way-too-handsome-for-his-own-good guy who was lucky enough to be born as the Chosen One, because otherwise, he would have never made it in the Order. He was determined, you would give him that. 
His approaches were never creepy or invasive enough to make you uncomfortable, only to drive you wild. Even when he was the worst part of your day, you had to keep the polite but distant charade going on, in order to protect your job. Your disgust towards him, instead of hurting him, amused him. He liked challenges and you were freaking Mission Impossible. Although he also saw the flaws in you: a pretentious prick girl who had probably achieved everything in her life thanks to nepotism. But he could see past that.
Because, boy, were you hot. 
And he was sure you liked it nasty. 
Underneath your goodie-two-shoes clothes hid the true you: he knew you loved being treated like a filthy slut.
“Hello, y/n!” Ahsoka squealed in an excited voice. You two have grown to adore each other. 
“Hey, Soka!” You responded happily, finishing to put some encyclopedias on a shelf. When you turned around, you saw she wasn’t alone. “Oh… good afternoon, Anakin.”
“Nice to see you too, y/n.” Anakin huffed in a sarcastic voice before strolling to where you were, Ahsoka following close behind. “Is that a new shirt? It suits you.”
“No, it’s the same white button up shirt that I’ve always used.” You smiled and turned around to roll your eyes in peace. He was too busy devouring your bosom behind the fabric to ever notice the barrier between his eyes and your skin.
“Y/n, do you think you could grab me a book about loreeks? I’m doing a little presentation about them for my science class.” Ahsoka asked you with a sweet voice.
“Oh sure… just let me look oveeeer…” You walked, stretching the words as you searched in the countless sections. “...here. It must be on one of these shelves.” You announced when you entered the exotic animals aisle. 
Digitating the code on your scanner you found out it was in one of the tallest shelves, only reachable with a ladder. Right when you were about to move it, Anakin came in.
“Don’t worry, Y/n. I’ll get it.” And he used the Force to bring the book down. “Here you go Snips, study hard.” He nudged her head, annoying her.
“Yeah, I guess… but it’s Friday. Can I read after I hang out with the other padawans? Barris and Meelo are going skating!” She gave her best puppy eyes, to which Anakin agreed, after giving it little to no thought.
“You didn’t have to give her the book, I could have done it.” You waited for Ahsoka to leave before dropping the bomb. 
“Easy there, kitten. I was just helping out.” He furrowed his eyebrows. As if the unnecessary nickname wasn’t enough to drive you mad. Looking down, he saw the rest of your outfit and lingered his eyes more than necessary in your short, black skirt. “On second thought, I might have let you do it.” He smirked confidently.
“Just stay out of my way, okay?” You growled, walking away from him to your desk, not without bumping your shoulder with his on your way out.
“What the hell is your problem?” He asked with an incredulous face.
You were done. The build-up from the past month was beginning to choke down your sense of decency. Not to mention that your day was already going terrible before he appeared: the droid that would always help you out was broken, significantly delaying your work day. Also, it was laundry day and you had to use your uncomfortable lingerie.
“You know what, Skywalker?” You turned around with raised eyebrows. “You’re my problem.” He opened his eyes in bewilderment. “I don’t like you. I don’t appreciate you coming in, all macho-” You made a mocking manner. “-acting like a goddamn superhero, only after cleaning up the mess you created in the first place.” You crossed your arms in your chest. 
“I’m a general, kitten, and I can assure you the war it’s not my fault.” He scoffed, he used the nickname again, knowing it would press your buttons. 
“And how many times have you messed it up bigger than it was?” You squinted your eyes, only to see him run out of words. “That’s what I thought.” You came back to digitating codes. “It’s like you don’t think. You are just a machine run by adrenaline and praise.” You finally rolled your eyes in front of him without shame. You tried to run down the reports that C7, your assistant droid would do, only to fail and almost delete everything in your computer. “And I can assure you I have bigger problems than dealing with you!”
“Okay, back down-”
“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” You yelled, getting desperate and throwing a tantrum at the device. You had enough for the day. You could leave, given that no one would come over this late, but your sense of responsibility prevented you from going home before finishing your work load. “I fucking hate this system!”
“Let me see-”
“Don’t! Just don’t, okay?” You swatted his hand away. “I’m not in the mood.”
“Could you stop being so stuck-up and let me help you?” He raised his voice, stepping up close to tower you. His eyes were on fire and you could sense that your previous comments did get to him, but for some reason outside of your understanding, he was still willing to help.
“Fine.” You chewed the words in your mouth, stepping down as you glared at him, giving him space to analyze the situation.
Instead of leaning down the computer, he went directly to C7, who lingered weakly on the side of your desk. He picked him up and put it on the table, moving him around his hands to examine the droid. He hummed after a couple of minutes, putting the mechanical body at eye level. “I see.”
“See what? What is it?” You pressed, trying to pick a glance from over his shoulder.
“I’m going to need my tools.” He murmured, dropping the droid back again.
“Wh-”
“I’ll be right back.” He exclaimed, before heading to the door in a rush.
“Wait! What?” You shouted, the shadow of his body the only thing visible.
You stayed alone for about fifteen minutes. You even got to thinking that he was pulling a prank on you, after yelling at him. But you stayed there, because well… what else would you do? You were beginning to fall asleep as you played with paper clips, when you heard the door being opened again.
“Finally! I thought you had left!” You sighed in relief, pushing your body off your desk. 
“I was getting my tools, I told you.” He frowned, lifting the heavy, dark red box to the white marble. “Now let’s bring this one back to life.” He smiled, before busting the carcass open. 
It took Anakin less than what you waited for him to get C7 up and running again. He flipped panels, snapped cables and pressed buttons, at an order that seemed random to you, until C7’s mechanical eyes opened again.
“Oh my God!” You laughed in disbelief. “He’s functioning again!”
Anakin smiled down at the table, as he finished up adjusting some screws. C7 sat up, analyzing his surroundings before getting up and going straight back to work. 
“I-I-” You were speechless. How did he do that? So fast? “I can’t believe you just did that.” You mumbled, still looking at C7 like it was a ghost. “Thank you, Anakin.” You turned around with apologizing eyes, twitching an embarrassed smile. 
“No problem. His transmitter was disconnected from the main system. I had to fix his-” The next couple of things that he mentioned sounded like pure gibberish to you, but he was very firm, so it must be true. Right? Sensing your bafflement, he spilled facts slower and quieter until he stopped talking, finalizing with a dry smile. “Yeah, it was nothing.”
He was starting to pack everything in his toolbox again and you had a pending need to say something. However, you didn’t know if you should kick off with a real apology or-
“How did you know all that?” So a pop quiz it was. In your defense, you were genuinely curious about the abilities he had just demonstrated. Mindblown, to be more specific. 
“About what?” He furrowed his brows, closing the box but leaving on the table. 
“About the transmitter, and the restraining bolt, and- and-” You were running out of technical terms. 
“Mechanics are second nature to me at this point.” He shrugged his shoulders, picking up the box. “I know everything about the topic, so, it was an easy fix. I’d have rearranged his central system if I had the missing part, but it’s very specific. What I did will do for now, though.” 
He was about to leave when he noticed the way you were leaning on the table, head on top of your fist to pay close attention to him. You were murmuring almost unhearable “uh-huh”s, totally lost in his words. 
“Sooo, you know mechanics.” You were such a hypocrite, you couldn’t stand the man fifteen minutes ago and now you were drooling over the sight of him explaining complicated shit to you. Snob. “You often fix things?” You tried to investigate, see if the throbbing happening between your legs was worth pursuing. 
“Sometimes… I often go to the hangar and repair the damaged ships or flip them.” He grinned without teeth. “The techs often ask for me. They say I have an eye for these things. Been working on droids since I was a kid, so.” Anakin wasn’t trying to brag, but his ample knowledge in mechanics was something that he prided himself on. 
“That seems like a lot of work.” You continued the small talk, slowly losing yourself over this spontaneous crush. 
“It can get tricky.” He dismissed, beginning to notice the glint on your eyes. He recognized the way your irises had darkened: He got those fuck-me eyes wherever he went. “Still haven’t found something I can’t fix.”
But it was involuntary. The fact that he was an expert on a matter as hard as mechanics scratched a part of your brain; It flipped a switch inside of you. Anakin was a different man under your eyes now. He was smart, hella smart. 
“Gosh, that’s so impressive.” You giggled like the girls that would flirt at him. Pathetic. But you quickly regained control, not before sucking up some courage and getting closer to him, posing more seductively this time. “That brain of yours sure hides lots of secrets.”
He hadn’t quite figured out why the change of heart, so it took him a moment to replay your evening together. It lasted a bit more than he liked to admit, but it hit him. Of course. An arrogant smile cracked his face. Of course you would be attracted to someone who was a master of something you consider relevant. After all, you liked to consider yourself an “intellectual”. Just to test his theory, he consciously started to brag about something else… something that would have your panties in a bunch if his hypothesis was correct.
“Wanna know another one?” He cocked an eyebrow, resting his elbow on the table to stand inches away from your face.
Your face shined with a slight pink blush, but it was the way you bit your lip that drove him crazy. That and your enthusiastic nod. “Yeah.”
“There’s a reason behind why I’m the best pilot of the fleet. And it’s not just because of my background as a pod racer or the Force.” He whispered, snickering at how soft your eyes had grown. “It’s actually because… I use physics.”
“Physics?” You almost moaned. 
“Yeah, physics.” He repeated, moistening his lips, a thing your eyes followed. “Self-taught, just like with mechanics.”
That ripped a subtle whimper out of you. Well, not subtle to him. 
“You-you understand math?” If it wasn’t because you were visibly squeezing your thighs at the newly acquired information, he would be completely offended that you thought he was dumb as fuck. 
“Love em.” He muttered, his intense stare glued to you, as his fingers put a string of hair behind your ear.
Like thunder, you were rushing to capture his lips and show him just how hot you thought he was now. Anakin freezed at first, taking aback by your sudden demonstration of affection, but when he understood that you were willingly -and enthusiastically- giving yourself to him, he wasted no time to embrace you back. 
Wet kisses splashed everywhere; it was fucking mess. You hung onto his shoulders while he groped all of your body, starting with your sweet hips, fondling your ass like it was his personal stress ball and finally landing on your waist. You pressed against him shamelessly, but in reality, how much shame could you still have when the man’s tongue was down your throat? The only thing you knew with certainty was that the sucking sounds and moans you both dropped were intensifying the already sex-filled atmosphere.
“Anakin.” You tried to sound normal, but your voice was failing just like your knees were. “W-why haven’t you gone to a proper school? Maybe get a degree?”
Was that seriously so important to you? The opinion of others? Anakin questioned in his own head.
Anakin was the kind of person that wasn’t susceptible to the opinion of others, especially regarding his own image. He was sure of the shit he knew and didn’t need anyone validating that for him. No expensive universities, no uptight professors; Obi-Wan was more than enough. Nonetheless, he had found a shortcut to get inside your pants and God as his witness, he was gonna use it. 
“Y/n.” He snickered right in your face, drinking in the power. “I don’t care about any of that. I'm a certified engineer, that’s how I got to build this myself.” Removing the leather, he revealed his mechanical limb to you, wiggling his fingers.
It was fancier than you ever thought a mechanical hand could be. Black with touches of gold; it was elegant and sophisticated, way more advanced than any technology you had ever seen in the orthopedics research field. And you knew it well, your mom was an orthopedic surgeon. 
It was no surprise to him that after spilling that last fact you were now shamelessly grinding on his half-hard. The fact that he was an engineering mastermind was such an aphrodisiac. And as much as he wanted to have another taste of your full, pink lips, the ones he often imagined enveloped around his dick while you scolded him, Anakin wasn’t willing to make the first move.
You were going to have to beg for it. 
“Anakin?” Your hands flattened on his pecs, back arching when he cupped your cheek with the cool durasteel prosthetic, kneading against it with soft eyes. He must have noticed how captivated you were by his invention. 
“Yeah, baby?” He continued the soft ministrations up and down your cheek, redirecting your gaze to his face whenever your eyes would deviate to his artificial limb. 
“You- Uhm, you built it from scratch?” You gulped when his thumb inched closer to your mouth, rubbing your bottom lip and pulling it open. 
Little obedient you put no resistance, and instead, stuck out your wet tongue to happily receive his digit into your warmness. But this time it was his index, the one you were bobbing your head into, eye contact not faltering even when you were practically giving oral to his hand. Anakin smiled pleased at your enthusiasm for pleasuring him and added another finger for you to lubricate. 
“From scratch.” He nodded, lustful irises boring into you. “Designed it too.”
You moaned around him, feeling content with being sandwiched between his firm torso and your desk, and with your mouth being fucked by his fingers. Saliva smeared all over your chin, you whined pitifully when your lips were no longer stuffed. On the contrary of leaving you all hot and bothered, Anakin lowered those same fingers to your leaky cunt, pushing your underwear aside for easy access. 
He groaned when he first inserted a finger, your gasping a sign for him to slow down. “Baby, you’re tight.” He seemed to love that about you. 
After adjusting to the size of his strong index finger, Anakin breached in with his middle one, repeating the process of you getting used to the coldness and girth all over. 
“A-Anakin.” You closed your eyes, involuntarily standing on your tippy toes. 
“That’s right, you’re doing so well. Taking my fingers like a true champ.” He bit down a condescending smile. “Atta girl.”
The initial discomfort was just a milestone you had to overcome to succumb to the pleasure that it was being fucked by Anakin Skywalker’s metal hand. His frigid thumb came to roll over your bundle of nerves, helping you relax into him and enjoy the sensation of fully riding his hand. 
“That’s it. Fuck my hand just like that, kitten.” He chuckled, finding a spot on your neck to latch on, leave a little souvenir of your encounter, and hide his pitiful laugh. 
Kisses were peppered along your exposed throat, your clavicle and jaw, his long eyelashes tickling you and making you clench around his metal hand tighter. Whilst you worried about not whining too loud for anyone to enter the library, Anakin was pumping his fingers at such an unholy pace to complicate your task.
“Shhh, baby. You need to be quiet. Wouldn’t like for anyone to come in. You could lose your job.” He mocked with a side smile and you had to gripped his bicep to keep your balance. “Could you imagine? Getting caught having sex at work? With a Jedi?”
You could perceive that the trespassing of the pseudo-celibacy Jedi code was turning him to no end, the mischievous glimmer in his eyes getting stronger when he said the last sentence. 
“W-We’re not having sex.” You corrected him, like it mattered. Like having him knuckles deep into you was somehow less frowned-upon than to have actual coitus.
That made him laugh and you wiggled underneath him, fighting to not let your tears fall. 
“You just wait.” His lips ghosted over yours, his breath fanning over your heated face. The increase of the movements of his hand was a sign that he had noticed the contractions around his digits, fully aware that you were close. “Ready to come, baby? Gonna gush all over me?”
You nodded, biting your swollen lip, losing the battle against your tear duct. Anakin used his other thumb, the one that was not torturing your clit, to liberate your abused lip. His mouth lowered to capture yours in a hot kiss, this tongue sliding on your inside until it hit your throat. So deep into you that you would never forget his taste; so deep you will never be able to deny him. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You whimpered against his smile when you reached your peak, dissolving into this meaningless mass between his arms. “Anakin…” You rode out your climax, still rocking your hips to prolong the pleasure.
Anakin waited until you regained some composure to help you fix your clothes, putting back your underwear as he found it and lowering your skirt. His actions had you frowning: Weren’t you two gonna fuck? You were already mentally prepared to welcome his enormous cock in your tiny canal. 
He grinned at your puppy eyes and adorable pout, your flustered state funnier than it should be. It was almost enough to break him. But someone had to give you a lesson. 
 “At the end of the day, I’m just a soldier, Y/n. An incompetent one, according to you.” 
Before you could protest that, he was tilting his head in an accusatory manner. Like saying: Don’t even try it. And before leaving with his head high, he spat: 
“My apologies if that’s not fancy enough for you, ma’am.”
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cozymoko · 2 months ago
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I really loved your yandere cowboy OC idea (Jamie) and is it possible to ask for a part 2 or something? You have me hooked👀
My Fancy Lady
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Yes, anon!
Nav. Masterlist
𐚁 Pairing. Yandere! Cowboy x City Girl! Reader
𐚁 Warning(s). slight yandere themes, subtle jealousy from reader, overall just lovey-dovey though.
𐚁 Format, word count. Scenario, 2.2k words
𐚁 Synopsis. You're returning to your home back in the city, but you wouldn't dare go without your precious cowboy.
REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED!
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Jamie wasn't one for small talk—'less it was his woman doin' the talkin'. So, nights like this? Big ol’ fancy affairs? They weren’t his scene. He’d rather be anywhere else, maybe takin' on some honest work in town or catchin' a rodeo a few miles out. Hell, anything that didn’t have him stuffed into this stiff suit, collar chokin' him half to death.
But, reckon he had it comin’. You get yourself tangled up with a city girl, and suddenly you're wearin’ city clothes, trailed by folks who don’t know a lick about good, hard work. He couldn't help but stay close, though. With a pretty thing like you on his arm, he had to be. Men were wolves in these parts, sneakin' glances like they’d never seen a woman before—especially one who wasn’t theirs to look at. Made him chuckle under his breath. "What a damn shame."
Jamie stood across the ballroom, leaned up against the wall, one foot crossed over the other. He could’ve gone and greeted your folks, but Lord, your mama was a spitfire—firing off questions quicker than he could answer. He respected her, sure, and your pa too, but he’d rather keep what was left of his sanity. Just takin' in the sight of this place made his pockets ache.
Chandeliers dangled high above like crystal-studded stars, throwing soft light around the room. Gilded columns lined the walls, polished up so fine they seemed to look down on everybody else here. Tapestries hung alongside big, expensive-lookin' paintings—probably worth more than his whole ranch. The floor? It was slick as a lake after rain, shiny enough he’d bet a nickel it could trip even the steadiest cowboy.
Then there were the folks. Struttin’ around like proud peacocks, laughin' in polished tones that came off a little too uppity for his taste. Colors swirled around him—reds as bold as a fight, blues like icy temptation—colors he'd never even seen before danced across the floor. Reminded him a little of berries and fresh tomatoes, and just the thought got a chuckle outta him.
He’d never fit into this world, but it didn’t stop him from admirin’ its quirks now and then. Even so, this whole scene was like a country mile from his real life. He was just as sure he’d turn you into a cowgirl one day, but until then, he could appreciate the wonders of what money could do, even if he wouldn’t spend his hard-earned cash like this.
But there was one bright spot in all this: you.
There you were, right in the center of it all, falling into familiar voices and easy laughter. This was your world, and you looked like you belonged in it, talkin' to faces from your past who sized up the man beside you with curious glances. And yet, you smiled at them all—good and bad. Weren't you just the sweetest thing.
The cowboy stands across the ballroom, leaning against the wall, one foot tucked over the other. It's not that he didn't want to greet your folks, but your mama was a spitfire — hammering the two of you with more questions than he can count. He loved her, and your pa too, but he'd rather keep the last piece of his sanity tucked in his belt.
High society folks rubbed him wrong. Spoiled sons and daughters who’d had everything handed to 'em, struttin' through life without a lick of sense about hard work. Obnoxious, entitled, without a care for anyone who hadn’t grown up just like them. Jamie couldn’t stand it.
Yet somehow, out of all the men you coulda chosen, you picked him. What a thief, he thought with a quiet chuckle, his dark gaze never leavin' your face.
Course, he wasn’t all that innocent either—he’d done his damnedest to pull you away from this pampered life, wanted to whisk you off to the country, to his life, his world. And he’d caught you, good and proper. But that didn’t stop him from feelin' that familiar heat, the sharp taste of blood on his tongue from biting back the urge to snap at every wolf eyein' you tonight.
“Don't make a scene,” he murmured to himself like a man clingin' to a thin thread of patience.
He’d be lyin’ if he said he didn’t want you all to himself. Seein' you wrapped up in those fine silks, hair swept back in that way you liked best, lips painted in a soft color that made you glow... God, he wanted you. If he had it his way, you’d be in worn-out jeans, maybe one of his old flannels, smellin' of him and the wide open fields.
But he couldn’t tell you no. You hadn’t seen your family in months, and it just about broke his heart to see you so homesick. Jamie ain't one to go on about his old man, but if he learned one thing, it was this: happy wife, happy life. And you may not be his wife just yet, but he planned on changin' that real soon.
So to hell with all these other women, these high-class dames flittin' around the room. He didn’t care one bit about their money or their flirtin' glances. Jamie toyed with the silver pendant around his neck, tappin' his boot in time to the music.
Just then, a young woman drifted up, not much older than you, lips red as blood and curving into a sly smile. “Excuse me, sir,” she purred, “would you like to—”
“I’d be careful, sugar,” he cut in smooth, twirlin' his whiskey glass. “My wife fights. And I'd rather not see you back at your surgeon’s tonight.”
A crooked grin played on his lips as he raised his glass to his lips, his eyes catchin' yours across the room. There was only one woman he wanted on his arm, and she was wearin' a ring that matched his own.
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You never thought you'd see him in a suit before your wedding, but it was quite the surprise — a pleasant one, at that.
Standing there in front of you, Jamie looked like he’d stepped right out of a magazine. Broad-shouldered, lean muscle wrapped in a midnight suit that clings just right, standing out among the tailored suits and smooth accents. The crisp white dress shirt only made his deep auburn hair look richer, slicked back smooth with every curl in place, and those dimples peeked out just as he caught you staring. His boots clack as he shifts, whiskey swirling in his hand, that silver band on his ring finger catching the glint of the chandelier. The sight of it alone sends any would-be admirer scuttling off with barely a second glance. He’s your plus one for the night, and the whole room knows it.
When he smiles, there’s a glint of trouble in his eyes, and those dimples—well, they could make even the stiffest folks around here swoon. He looks like the kind of man who just barely tolerates a tie, tugging at it with a smirk whenever he catches your gaze, as if to say, “You really think all this makes me any fancier?”
He’s still Jamie through and through: rugged under all that polish, with a bit of a roguish streak he could never quite hide. And tonight, even though he’s dressed up to meet your family and stand in this world of chandeliers and silk dresses, he’s every bit the man you fell for—charmingly untamed, with a quiet confidence that makes you weak in the knees.
Your friends try to pull you into old stories and polite gossip, but your eyes keep drifting back to him. Jamie’s gaze is steady, unwavering, as though he has little interest in the things around him. There’s a hint of a smirk playing at his lips every time he catches you staring, his dimples deepening, and that mischievous glint in his dark, loving eyes. You know that look too well. It’s possessive, fiercely protective, as if he’s daring anyone to even think about taking his bride-to-be.
The more you look at him, the more it pains you to look away. You try to play it cool, but he knows you too well—knew what to say, when to say it, and how to say it. It leaves you with thoughts from earlier in the day, making your knees weak all over again.
“My, my, he cleans up rather nicely,” a warm, familiar voice whistles beside you. “Don’t you agree, dear?” You jump, blinking back into the present, only to find your mother smiling knowingly.
“Distracted?” she teases, twirling you around to face her, an amused smile etched onto her red lips.
She glides past the group of dazzling damsels, fanning herself as she casts an appreciative glance toward Jamie. “Lord, honey,” she whispers in your ear, amused. “If he’s not about the most handsome thing I’ve ever seen—and the way he looks at you? It’s like he’s afraid the floor might steal you away.”
You laugh, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks, but her words are truer than she knows. Jamie tips his glass toward you from across the room, raising it in a silent toast. There’s something soft in his expression—a flicker of mirth in his dark eyes.
You almost let them drown you, submerge you in their warmth. If not for the grating sound to your left.
"Who might that be?"
"I haven't seen him around."
"Should I ask him for a dance?"
"Do you think he's spoken for?"
"Of course, look at the jewel on his finger!"
"I quite fancy him. Shall I pursue him anyways?"
"Oh, how shameful~!"
Some of the girls here are looking his way—of course, they are. Jamie has that rugged charm, like he was carved out of southern dirt and bathed in the evening sun, with the wild confidence of a man who knows he’s got nothing to prove. His auburn hair, slicked back in a style that both respects the occasion and still says he’s a cowboy first, gives him a sharp, roguish look that’s almost out of place here, like a tiger in a cage.
But despite the glances, the obnoxious remarks, no one dares approach him. The way his eyes follow you, even from a distance, says more than words ever could. He isn’t here to be seen; he’s here for you.
Yet, it doesn’t make it any easier to hold your tongue. You’ve hosted these parties since the age of fourteen and know how people behave here—their promiscuous ways, and the men who can’t help but leer. High-class harlots looking for any man to pounce on, taken or not. Greasy men following women’s every move, provoked or not. You remember too well. This was the yearly matchmaking party hosted by four of the wealthiest families in the city, your family being one of them. It wouldn’t look good if you didn’t attend the event your household had built its reputation around.
You knew Jamie would settle on keeping to himself, yet you hadn’t thought your rugged companion would be the talk of the party. That alone makes the joy blossoming in your chest wilt. For once, it feels as though he isn’t just your fiancé, but everyone’s. Of course, you want everyone to love him as much as you do—but without undressing him with their winged eyes.
Just then, Jamie makes his way over, his familiar smirk making your heart skip a beat. “Sugar,” he says, poking the soft flesh of your cheek, his eyes gleaming with a familiar, mischievous warmth. When he finally makes his way back to you, he tips his drink up, raising a brow. “Sugarplum.”
His words go in one ear and out the other, turning fuzzy and static as they pass through your mind. A deep frown settles at the corners of your lips as exasperation bubbles over.
“Jamie, stop it!” you huff, swatting his hands away. “You’ll ruin my makeup, you damn brute.”
“Yeah, yeah…” he murmurs, a lazy smile tugging at his lips. But he doesn’t bother moving his hand from the top of your head, his fingers gently brushing through your hair as if daring you to protest again. You turn away, cheeks flushed, doing your best to regain the poise you usually wear like a crown.
Jamie notices the pout you're trying to hide, his lips curling in amusement. For all your princess-like composure, you’re showing more than you realize tonight. He leans down, his voice low and teasing.
“Don’t pout, pumpkin. Fix your face.”
You glare up at him, crossing your arms, but he just chuckles, reaching for your hand. Before you can react, he pulls you closer, his grip firm yet careful, as if he were holding something precious.
“Remember, Sugar,” he murmurs, giving your kiss a long, playful smooch. MUAH! “You’re the main character.”
With a playful glint in his eye, he twirls you around, his hand never leaving yours as he guides you in a slow, elegant spin. You can’t help but let out a surprised laugh, your frown dissolving as he twirls you like with practiced ease.
Only then had you decided.
That night was quite the surprise indeed—
A pleasant one at that.
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©CozyMoko, all rights reserved. Don't repost my work on other platforms.
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eternalslover · 2 years ago
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Love this
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in my world uma has older siblings who are twins! meet amira “mira” triskelion and skylar triskelion! these are my pronouns + sexualities for them and my hc sexuality and pronouns for uma!
(ps uma is wearing harry’s jacket)
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radioisntdead · 10 months ago
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I have an idea.
Mom susan and daughter are reader
How about the reader tries to introduce her husband to her mother??
Good evening my dear! I wanted to see a Susan and Alastor in-law showdown and I wrote a drabble and then some headcanons, so I hope you don't mind, but if you do just let me know and I can replace Alastor with another requested character or an oc or something,
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The mother in-law
Susan & daughter reader, Alastor x female reader
Warnings!!
Cannibalism, violent elderly, implied Violence AGAINST the elderly in the headcanons mostly, Susan invading boundaries, Alastor gets insulted by Susan, Reader needs a drink, poorly drawn Cat Alastor in a suit, OOC characters, not proofread, does anyone know a replacement for Grammerly??
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Alastor made the most of falling to eternal damnation, seeing it as a new opportunity,
He become an overlord, a cannibal, the feared Radio demon,
It was shocking enough to him that he had met you, and while it did take awhile and a long long friendship he did end up realizing he had feelings for you, a sweetheart of a cannibal, who worked with his dear friend Rosie and asked to court you in the gentlemenly way, with a bouquet of seven roses and a kiss on your hand, He was the happiest lil' deer in all of hell.
He'd take you dancing, you'd do something like reading or taking a nap as he did his radio broadcast, the two of you would go on walks,
It was bliss
Unfortunately or fortunately depending how you look at it, Alastor disappeared for seven years taking you with him, much to the distain of your mother.
During the time away you were wed, it was a small ceremony, only the two of you and the fucked up cat thing that looked strikingly like Alastor you adopted as your witness.
Anyways with the sudden seven year disappearance and marriage, he never got to formally meet his mother in law that you've told him so much about,
So once everything was settled and you got to visit your dear mama a couple of times, you decided to finally introduce them,
Unfortunately they already knew each other.
Oh no.
Alastor wore his best suit, he even put that evil radio cat into a suit, you wore a lovely dress that matched the aesthetics of cannibal town [Or an exact copy of Alastor's regular suit if you wanna give Susan a heart attack]
He walked arm in arm with you to the cannibal town home your mother lived in, and from the moment the door was opened there was only one thought on his mind.
Oh shit it was Susan, you were the daughter of the Ornery old bitch,
How was someone like YOU related to SUSAN??
Were you adopted? You had to be, he refused to believe that old lady had spawned you in any type of way, maybe she picked you up off the street?
Susan grabbed your hand pulling you in and looking over you, not bothering to greet the radio demon beside you,
"Where have you been I thought you died, Why are you with the guy with the shitty haircut that looks like someone went at him with a fucking hedge trimmer"
"Mama I visited you last week,"
Susan questioned immediately as you laughed nervously, barely two seconds in and she had already insulted Alastor,
you look over to Alastor who stood awkwardly in the door way, waiting to be invited in, the cursed cat in a suit standing by him also waiting to be invited in.
"And apparently you already know my Alasto-"
you were cut off swiftly by Susan squinting at Alastor
"You married the fucking embodiment of red-40?"
Alastor blinked, "Excuse me?"
"You're excused." Susan moved to shut the door in Alastor's face but was stopped by you stopping her
"Ma, please, Alastor come on in"
You said gesturing for your husband and the thing to enter, Susan scoffed mumbling about something as she turned around and sped into the kitchen.
Alastor leaned into you, hooking his arm with yours as the messed up cat clone moved around immediately crawling upon Susan's rocking chair.
"My dear it's not too late to leave and dine elsewhere''
"Alastor please, It's just one dinner with my Ma''
"Who's an ornery old-"
"ALASTOR."
It's a very very awkward dinner, Alastor tried to compliment Susan's meatloaf? He got bullied, you did step in to shut that behavior down but that didn't do much, Alastor tried to help wash the dishes after supper? Susan stood over him watching as he washed every plate and each piece of cutlery, judging him.
Susan did not fear the overlord, and you were concerned.
After dinner was finished and dessert was eaten Susan stared both you and Alastor down as you sat on her couch.
"How long have you been married?"
"Six years."
"Where are my grandchildren then?!"
You hold up the mini Alastor, it's tail wagged slowly as Susan looked upon it with a look of disapproval,
"That's a shitty looking rat, is your husband dysfunctional?"
"Ma, can you not- NO, Alastor put away the tentacles she will RIP THEM OFF-''
AND HEADCANON TIME BECAUSE I am not the best at writing action.
You poor soul.
They can't kill each other because you exist,
It's like stopping two toddlers from fighting except one's well over a century old and your married to the other one,
You're an unpaid babysitter I'm so sorry
Alastor was raised to respect woman and the elderly but he is very close to attacking Susan
He can't do much because he doesn't want to get into trouble with Rosie because attacking one of her cannibals no matter who it is, was a whole can of worms he rather not open, and also she was unfortunately your mother,
He's questioning that, like after this dinner expect him to sit you down and just start throwing questions, like how?
He liked Susan's meatloaf well enough, he could live without it though,
Susan runs into him randomly on the street? She asks if she has a grandchild yet, no? He's getting attacked with the cane and asked if he cannot perform properly Violence on the ace deer
She tries to convince you to leave him and tried introducing you to a random cannibal she pulled off the street, but she stopped after you got upset at her.
Assuming you live at the Hazbin hotel with Alastor Susan visits, she somehow got a key to the room you and Alastor shared so you could be sleeping and Susan pops in swinging her cane, dropping lore
Alastor lives in mild fear, he's changed the locks, he's put Niffty outside the door as security,
Susan always GETS IN.
You have boundaries with her but she breaks them and your working on getting her to stop,
It becomes a hotel wide situation of getting Susan to not break in
She oddly enough likes Angel dust and you use him as a distraction whenever she appears without warning,
You owe Angel several favors.
You are in debt.
Susan eventually grows a fondness for the freak grandchild, she gets clothes, dresses him up and calls him sonny,
Alastor's not the most pleased but it's better then getting asked if he suffers from certain conditions
They sometimes fight over your time, like he's taking you out on a date and Susan pops in and drags whisks you away for tea or something,
They can't do much aside from verbal Insults and glares, but they did get into a physical fight, Alastor got hit with a chair, Susan almost got eaten, Alastor sent Niffty on her and she almost got stabbed
You threatened to tell Rosie and they both stopped, thankfully
Susan keeps divorce papers on hand just in case you ever change your mind, she's not afraid to attack an overlord, this woman is down below for a reason and she is FERAL.
If she catches Alastor chompin' down on your arm he's getting whooped with a cane and the both of you are getting a full lecture on if he's doing anything he's not supposed too, and if he is, he needs to go.
Alastor is very adamant that he would never intentionally harm you apparently the BITING DOESN'T COUNT AS HARM???
Dude has a fear of becoming like his father.
They have issues but they agree on things like this,
There's eventually a group meeting about Susan breaking into the hotel and while she's welcome she needs to stop popping in at late hours of the night or at the crack of dawn,
There's a Susan security system set up now.
Susan's never going to fully approve because you'll always be that small child she found on the side of the streets long ago to her and no man, woman or whatever is going to be good enough for her little girl, but she'll put up with it, she knows that while Alastor isn't the best person it could be worse.
She eventually respects your boundaries, yay!
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Good evening folks! Thank you for tuning in! I hope you liked whatever this was, I'm slowly working though requests! Now it's 3 am and I'm tired, goodnight! Have a cursed cat Alastor in a suit that I drew with my fingers
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He looks like a tatortot
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hannahhook7744 · 1 month ago
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Thanks @cleverqueencommander for the birthday gift!
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mochinomnoms · 3 months ago
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Shrimpy Chronicles: The Drop-Off
Background Octopolycule x Reader (Main: Dad!Jade and OC!Daughter)
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Synopsis
“Open water! I wanna see the water open at the drop-off!” Oh yes, she knows all about how Dada raved about the drop-off. Pearl knew it all too well, more than she wanted, actually. Dada, with his droopy eyes and raspy giggle, talked about how the open ocean is where all the big scaries come from. Where leviathans sleep, and the kraken lays in wait for the next unsuspecting meal. And that’s if the human fish-ear-men don’t get you first! “They throw in iron hooks, puttin’ tasty morels from the surface to bribe ya. And then, when you bite, take even a nibble, the hook digs into your cheek! And out through your skin! They drag ya up ‘n out of the water, and then they skin and scalp ya to eat!” No, she didn’t have nightmares for weeks after! Pearl was just having a hard time sleeping!
Collection Masterlist: Shrimpy Chronicles
[wc} - 2,020
[cw/tags] - Reader is mentioned as 'Ama' but has they/them pronouns, in daughter's p.o.v., heavily implied poly!octotrio x reader, main focus is Jade with daughter.
[notes] - I wanted to write a cute domestic scenario with the other twin since I did Coral in the last story lol. Thinking aboujt Jade's dream in Book 7, even though it's not accurate I think it does show that he does like having his friend and brother around. I think he'd want his kids to feel the same about their own siblings and friends.
also prime sibling behavior at the end uwu
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If Pearl had to decide on going to school or hiding in the coral in her bedroom, she’d rather hide. 
No, she’s not a baby! She’s not scared of her first day of school! She just doesn’t want to go, she thinks it’s booooooring!
That’s what she’s telling Coral anyways, who rolled her eyes when Pearl asked if she wanted to skip the day before. 
“I don’t wanna! Dada said they take you to the drop off and look at how deep the-the—um…”
Coral had scrunched her nose and lips, frustration clear on her little face.
“I forgot what it was called.”
“I think Dada said it was open?”
“Open water! I wanna see the water open at the drop-off!”
Oh yes, she knows all about how Dada raved about the drop-off. Pearl knew it all too well, more than she wanted, actually. 
Dada, with his droopy eyes and raspy giggle, talked about how the open ocean is where all the big scaries come from. Where leviathans sleep, and the kraken lays in wait for the next unsuspecting meal. 
And that’s if the human fish-ear-men don’t get you first!
“They throw in iron hooks, puttin’ tasty morels from the surface to bribe ya. And then, when you bite, take even a nibble, the hook digs into your cheek! And out through your skin! They drag ya up ‘n out of the water, and then they skin and scalp ya to eat!”
No, she didn’t have nightmares for weeks after! Pearl was just having a hard time sleeping!
Either way, Pearl just didn’t feel like leaving the comfort of her home. Her Baba was gone for the morning already to check on his restaurant on the surface, while her Ama and Nana Narissa left a bit ago to talk with people in the town.
Ama and Nana had given her and her sister lots of kisses and made them breakfast to wish them good luck. Ama looked ready to cry as Nana put a barrette made of sturgeon scales into Coral’s hair, clipping her two dark strands of hair back and out of her face.
 Ama was fully bawling as Nana did the same thing for Pearl, though her hair was long and thin enough to be fully clipped into a low ponytail.
“They match like their fathers! Waaaah! They’re so cute!” 
Ama had been babbling, squeezing Coral and Pearl to her chest like a kid with a toy. Dada always squeezed tightly, but Ama could give him a run for his money right then.
Nana had to drag Ama away and called for her Dada and Papa to finish getting her and Coral ready. Dada was giggling at Ama as they swam out the front door, while Papa was looking at her and Coral. 
“My, my. Look, Floyd, the little ones are matching us.” Papa reached down to tap at the barrettes in her and her twin’s hair. “How did Mother get these scales, I wonder?”
“Mama’s real cutthroat, probably told some of them that she’d serve them up to humans if they didn’t give her some.” Dada had taken to picking up Coral by the tail and swinging her upside down in his arms. 
“What? No, Nana is nice!” Coral was giggling, twisting and turning to get out of Dada’s grasp. 
“Nice to you, Nana loves her baby grand shrimp!” Pearl watched as Coral managed to wiggle mostly out of Dada’s grasp, reaching up to pull at his dark gray strand of hair 
As her sister pulled harder at his hair, and Papa swam over to pull Coral away from his face, Pearl took the opportunity to quietly slip out and back into her bedroom. She could still make out the sounds of laughter and a screech from Dada as she heard a chomping sound. 
Pearl giggled to herself, swimming into her bedroom to find a hiding spot. Somewhere new, though, where Dada or Papa couldn’t find her. 
Hmm, in the bookshelf? No, that wouldn’t work. Under the pillows? No, they’d see her underneath it. Oh, wait! Baba left his old octopot in their room! Said something about using it for a hatchling, but she didn’t know what that was!
She’s not a hatchling, so maybe they’d never suspect she’d be there. Perfect!
Pearl hummed to herself, going into the toy corner, where she saw the black, metal cauldron among the many toys she and her sister had been gifted with over the years. 
She didn’t exactly match the color of the pot, but Pearl supposes she can cover the entrance with a stuffed toy.
“Hmm, oh! This one!” Pearl grabbed a blue and yellow reef fish, just big enough to cover the entrance, and curled into the pot as tightly as she could. 
Pearl closed her eyes and relaxed, being soothed by the cool iron of the pot and the darkness surrounding her. Even the stripes on her tail were starting to glow in the rhythm of her heartbeat. 
Biting at the tips of her claws, she waited for the sounds of her fathers and sister to finally disappear. Hopefully they wouldn’t notice she snuck off and—
“Oya? Now what little creature is hiding here?”
The sudden light in her eyes made Pearl hiss and curl further into herself, burying her face into her tail and arms. She felt Papa’s hands carefully reach in and pull her out, though she growled and swiped at them. Even when she bit into one of his fingers, Papa still carefully cradled her and brought her back into the open. 
He looked amused as she gnawed on his finger, twisting her little tail around his arm as she let out another growl, trying to imitate a roll she’d seen him do to a barracuda once. A death roll, she thinks it was called?
“I see, it’s my little elver! Now, what is my elver doing hiding from her Papa, hmm?” Papa cooed at her, rubbing his thumb against her cheek affectionately. 
Pearl let out a pleased purr, finally letting go of his fingers and nuzzling into his touch. She just about melted into his arms as he brought her to his chest, humming as she curled in like she used to when she first hatched. 
“Now, Pearl, what’s going on?” Papa sunk to the floor, curling his tail around him as he spoke. “Aren’t you excited about your first day? Your sister certainly is.”
“Umm, yeah! I just—I just feel—um—sick!” Pearl let out a ‘cough’, sticking her tongue out for dramatic effect.
“Ehgeh…I’m too sick to go to school.”
Papa’s chest shook, sounding like he did when he was trying not to laugh at Baba Zuzu when she tried to eat one of his arms. 
“Oh, is that—pfft—so?”
“Yeah! Too sick. Too tiiiired! I stay home!”
Pearl went limp in Papa’s arms, feeling rather satisfied in herself. She managed to trick him! No school for her means no drop-off either! Now she could stay home all day and—
“Oh noooo, you can’t stay home, Pearl, we need to take you to the doctor!”
Huh?
“Oh, um, no thank you—”
“Yes, yes. You must go to the doctor, that cough sounds awfully terrible. You’re going to need, hmm, throat surgery.”
Pearl started squirming out of Papa’s grasp, finding it rather hard to do when he decided to squeeze her against his chest. 
“No Papa Jade, I don’t wanna go to the doctor—”
“Hmm, then you’ll need medicine, the one that tastes like sour algae.” 
Pearl panicked, pushing against his face, which was slowly morphing into a grin.
“Actually Papa, I think I’m okay, I’m not sick—”
Papa’s second jaws clacked as he softly pressed his teeth on her, brushing against her cheek, then neck, then tummy, tickling her. 
“Aha! You lied to Papa, now he’s going to eat you!”
“EEEEE!” Pearl shrieked, thrashing in his hold as she cackled. “NOOO—snrk—STOOOP! PAPAAAA! AAAAAAH—snort—THAT TICKLES!!”
Papa let out a gentle laugh as he finally let Pearl breathe, using his free arm to lean against the ground. She was small enough though for her to still be cradled in his other arm. 
“Now, Pearl, do you want to tell me the actual reason you don’t want to go to school? It’s your first day after all.”
Tucking herself into his arms and shutting her eyes closed, Pearl mumbled into her Papa’s chest.
“...I’m scared of the monsters…”
She felt herself moving again, peeking from her eyelashes to look at Papa’s frowning face. 
“Monsters my sweet?”
Peal nodded, tapping her claws together nervously. 
“Yeah, and the fish-ear-mans. The ones that Dada Floyd said would-would—um—scape you to eat?”
“Scalp, my sweet.” Papa looked mad, but still gave her a soft smile. “He means scalp.”
Sighing and swimming up and towards the door, Papa held Pearl’s hand to help her follow. 
“And he’s being a bit dramatic, they don’t eat little mermaids like you. Even if they wanted to, I wouldn’t let them.”
The living room was empty, Dada and Coral probably left already to the pickup spot for school. It wasn’t very far from their grotto, and it looked like a lot of other families were on the way as well. 
“...But, Papa? What about the monsters?”
Papa looked down at her, his eyes softening as he rubbed a thumb over her hand. 
“Well, the sea has many monsters, but they all live far, far away from the reef. Much farther in the deep sea, that’s why you go to school, to learn how to protect yourself from the monsters.”
Pearl pouted, she didn’t know what learning her numbers had to do with monsters. 
“But, if I stay home…the monsters will never find me! Problem solved!”
She smiled to herself, shimmying her shoulders like she was dancing. 
“They can’t find me at home! You can protect me!”
Papa let out a chuckle, tugging her along as they saw Dada and Coral waiting at the pickup for the teacher. She thinks his name was Mr. Raymond.
“Well, that is certainly true, but—” Tugging her up into his arms again, Papa pressed his forehead against hers and murmured. “—who will protect Coral? She’ll be all alone without you.”
Pearl frowned at that, looking at her sister, who was currently clenching tight onto Dada’s arm and digging her teeth into his shoulder. 
“...I think Dada Floyd needs more protecting than Coral.”
A laugh left Papa’s mouth as he watched the small shrimpmer somehow launch herself at Dada’s face, making him fall backwards into the ground.
“Perhaps you’re right, but she’d still like the company. I know I did with your other parents.” 
She smiled at that, Coral did always like bringing her around when they got into trouble. Baba and Ama told her that Dada and Papa got into it a lot too. They seemed to grow up fine. 
“...Okay Papa, I trust you!”
Pearl wriggled out of his grasp, darting over to Coral and practically tackled her off of Dada and into the soft sand. Both of them giggled as they played a game of tag, waiting for their teacher to pick them up. 
As the two were preoccupied, Jade swam up to Floyd, who was up and stretching his arms over his head. 
“Heya Jade, was wondering how long it’d take ya to find Pearl—yow!”
Floyd hissed as Jade pulled on his earfin, on the verge of digging his claws into the thin skin. A small, polite smile on his face, Jade leaned in to quietly hiss. 
“When our mates get back home from their work and chores, we are going to have a good and clear conversation about how to talk to our children, if just to keep myself from mangling you to shreds.”
Finally let go of, Floyd held a hand to his now tender fin, glaring at his brother and growling. 
“Tch, what’s stoppin’ ya now?”
Jade pouted and wiped an imaginary tear from the corner of his eye, even sniffling for dramatic effect. 
“Our mates—unfortunately—adore you too much, I fear Azul and (Name) would be devastated…”
“Fuckin’ asshole.”
“Yes you are, but what am I?”
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comments and reblogs appreciated 🩷
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magnolia-among-the-stars · 5 months ago
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the last bit of us (chapter one)
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Plot: Tyler Owens hasn’t been home in a year. He’s survived all the storm chasing and motel living with his new partners as they try to save lives. But with all the damage they’ve taken from driving high beams first into monster storms, it’s time to pay the piper and bring the truck in for repairs. And the only person who can fix them is the best mechanical engineer he’s ever met. Eleanor Harding, his estranged wife.
Pairing: Tyler Owens x Estranged Wife OC (Harding Daughter)
Word Count: 2441
Playlist Song: Snap by Rosa Linn
A/N: This is a hefty intro to Eleanor but really wanted to establish her before we get angsty!
prologue / one / two / three
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The sky was still dark when my alarm clock went off. My hand slides along the mattress, slapping the snooze button. It can’t be time already. There’s no way. I snuggle deeper into the mattress and peel one eye open to squint at the cracked window. The big moon is lower in the horizon but the sun hasn’t made its known yet. 
My phone starts to go off, across the room atop my bureau. “Fuck.” 
I try to get the kink out of my neck when I get up. The wooden floorboards of the farmhouse creak as I shuffle past the bureau into the bathroom and shut off the alarm. The bulbs above the mirror are too bright and I have to shut my eyes for a minute to adjust. I wash my face, toss my hair into a quick braid and pull up the weather app on my phone before heading downstairs. 
The coffeemaker in the kitchen is ancient but after a few taps and fiddling with the cord of the plug, it starts to gurgle. It’s a satisfying sound. While it brews, I check the living room through the archway for Carter. He’s still curled up under a small crocheted blanket on her couch where I left him last night. He’s too tall and most of his calves dangle over the arm of the couch. 
“Carter, time to get up,” I call and pull my thermostat off the drying rack to fill with fresh coffee. He doesn’t move. I sigh and look down at my watch. The long spider web of cracks in the glass doesn’t distract from the face. It’s 3:19 AM. We gotta get on the road. The wind chimes are loud out on the porch. The rain should be starting soon. 
“Carter,” I say again. I walk through the archway and grab the closest thing I can find and chuck the pillow at his face. 
Carter startles immediately, shouting “I’m up,” in the process. He grabs for his glasses, dropped onto the coffee table. 
“No you weren’t,” I say, stepping back into the kitchen to fill his thermostat. “We gotta go, the storm should be rolling in any time now and Birdie will murder us if we’re late.” When I turn to look at him, he’s sliding his rain boots back on. 
“I’m so sorry, I forgot. I thought you were Birdie’s boss,” he says, hand on his chest to fey surprise. 
“It’s too early for your sarcasm. C’mon.” The entryway into the house is cluttered with a few pairs of boots and sneakers, my raincoat and denim jacket along with a variety of hats hanging from the hooks. I stare at the wooden loveseat under the coat hooks while sliding on my boots. I can only see the bottom half of the painted heart on the backing. 
“El, anytime you want to get moving,” Carter says, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. 
I blink a little, standing up and grabbing my own backpack. “Fuck you.” 
The farmhouse sits out in the middle of an open field in Guthrie, Oklahoma. The barn doors shudder a little from the wind and I can see my dad’s red beat up Dodge Ram on the lawn. I smile a little, pushing the screen door open. It squeals as I unlock the door to my truck and slide in. The engine stutters a little when it comes to life and we whip out onto the road. 
“Did you sleep at all last night?” he asks me, taking a sip of his coffee. A bump in the road causes the truck to jump and a little splatters on him. “Ah jeez.” He tries to wipe at it and I can’t help but chuckle. 
“Not really,” I shake my head. I reach for the radio, turning the dial so I can hear the morning station. There’s a new Luke Combs song playing and I tap my fingers a little to the beat. “Too much on the brain with this project.” 
“I don’t know if you’re aware El but you always have too much on the brain,” he says.
“Well someone has to do work on this team,” I joke, smirking at him. 
It’s not a lie. Ever since Charlie and I had gotten our first big contract with FEMA, I had been in nonstop work mode. Throwing myself into each project a little deeper than the last. It was probably worrisome how much time I spent at the warehouse, elbow deep in some new tech but I couldn’t help myself. It was a safe and mindless space, fixing and tinkering. 
We drive down the long stretch of dirt through the fields and I peer up at the sky again. There’s a loud ringing in the cab of the truck and I glance over at Carter, peering down at his phone. “It’s Birdie,” he says. “She says we’re late.” 
I grin a little, shaking my head as the warehouse comes into view. The freshly painted sign on the building reads TempestEdge Innovations. I push the button on the callbox and the military grade barrier raises to allow me to drive through. I swing around the side of the building to the open garage door. It’s just about 3:46 AM. 
I slide out of the truck as the door to the garage closes behind me. “You’re late,” Birdie’s voice echoes across the warehouse. 
“Birdie, give me a break, I had to make four repairs last night before we left,” I say, walking toward the tall blonde woman. Her hair is pulled snug up into a ballerina bun, a clipboard held to the fleece of her vest. “Not all of us go for a run a 2 AM to start our day.” 
She scoffs and shoves me playfully. “Maybe you should give it a try.” 
We grin, making our way deeper into the warehouse where all of our desks are crowded together with a few computers. Tables of spare parts, design blueprints and drawings and our small kitchen are scattered throughout the space. Beyond that, my engineering floor houses large models and mock ups that sit large and wide. 
I drop my bag at my desk and smile at the photo frame on the corner. It’s from graduation at OSU. We’re all making funny faces at the camera, hugging each other tightly. I tap on my keyboard to wake the screen, noticing my phone buzzing in my pocket. I ignore it and look up, “How’s everyone doing this morning?” I ask.
“Morning E,” Palmer, our Meteorologist says when she looks up over her computer screen. She gnaws on her lip, auburn brows raised. “I don’t think this classifies as morning quite yet.” 
“I mean, dawn, maybe?” Sean says, walking up from behind me with a coffee mug in hand. It’s white with rope lettering that spells out This ain’t my first rodeo! Sean walks over to Birdie who is looking over her clipboard, comparing it to the large chalkboard we wheeled over to her corner of the office. She’s talking to herself as he kisses her head on the way to his desk. 
“Dawn is defined by a sun rising in the sky,” Carter remarks, tapping away on his computer. “Definitely not dawn yet.” 
We’re interrupted by Charlie, stepping into the office space with her phone pressed to her ear. “Alright, yes. I can definitely get out there next week. Thank you so much, have a wonderful day,” Charlie says. She smiles at everyone. “Alright team, let’s get this test going.” 
Everyone slides up from their desk chairs, grabs their tablets and walkies and heads to the back of the warehouse. We slide on our swanky mesh neon vests, easily identifiable out in the storm. Sean slides the back door open and we step out onto the ramp. The rain has started and it’s coming down sideways, like a thick curtain across the landscape. A few hundred feet from the warehouse, a row of buildings line up on either side. 
“Alright, we all remember safety procedures?” Birdie asks, looking over her clipboard. There’s a chorus of noise and Birdie grumbles. “C’mon people, we’re all about to bunker separately for the tornado. Do we all remember safety procedures?” 
“Birdie, we’ve done these bunkering tests a few times now, c’mon,” I say. 
With our current contact, we started trying to build new infrastructures on different buildings to withstand a tornado in the hopes to help families and businesses not fall into a pit of financial burden from having to rebuild. It was the biggest project yet and took us nearly six months just to build the fake town with different materials and different methods. The only way to collect data around the structural integrity of the buildings was to bunker into each of the different variations.
Palmer had tracked cells moving toward the area and we were certain an EF2 was heading straight for us. Which was a perfect opportunity to split up again and see how well the buildings held up. It would be our third test trial. It’s not the smartest move but growing up with two crazy famous storm chasers? Kind of breeds crazy. 
The winds start to pick up and I look up at the debris and dust kicking up in the air. “Alright guys, let’s head out,” I say, turning on my radio. We take off in different directions, saying goodbyes and waving each other off through the harsh winds. While Charlie stays safe inside the warehouse, Birdie takes to the gas station, Sean the grocery store. Palmer heads to the farm house tucked behind everything and Carter yells “Stay safe” as he turns into the doctor’s office. I head the furthest down the road to the bar & grille. 
I look up the doors behind me, moving to the safety corner where all the monitors are. I slide into my space and settle in, logging into our tracking system on the tablet to type in my notes. I can barely hear the wind outside and pull my walkie talkie from my waist. “Alright, I am settled and am clear. See you guys on the other side.” 
I wait, anxiously tapping my foot as I watch the footage off the street for the incoming destruction. But ten minutes passed with no noise whatsoever. I glance up and toward the door, confused. I tap the storm tracker, noticing the pattern of movement for the storm diminishing. I click the button of the walkie with my thumb. “P, am I reading right that the storm choked itself out? Over,” I say, watching the monitor again. 
“The winds are dying down, I think it missed us,” Palmer calls back.
“Let’s hold for another five minutes to be cautious,” Birdie’s voice crackles. But five minutes pass with no movement. Birdie calls that we’re clear and I head out of the building. The sun is starting to rise, illuminating the fields with a golden glow as if there hadn’t been 40 to 60 mile an hour winds and rain only a little while ago. 
“We woke up at the ass crack of dawn for this?” Carter groans. 
“Not dawn,” Palmer corrects, walking in step with us back to the warehouse. Birdie wraps her arm around Sean’s waist as they step ahead of us. 
“The conditions seemed perfect,” Birdie says, shrugging. “All we can really hope for.” 
The door slides open to the warehouse to reveal Charlie. She’s got this fixed look on her face as if she just stepped in dog shit. “We’ll get the next one Charlie, no need to fuss. They know that we can’t control the conditions of the storms,” I point to the sky and pat her on the shoulder. 
“That’s not what soured my mood,” she says. She crosses her arms over her chest and huffs. 
My eyebrows knit together in confusion as the team steps passed us, back to our desks. “What is it?”
“Someone’s out at the gate,” she says, nodding to the opposite end of the warehouse. “Someone’s here? No one comes here.”
“Oh, if only,” Charlie says. She turns on her heel, heading to the door on the other side of the building. I rack my brain for people who know the warehouse. We had some rich investors who would stop by trying to buy us out, our clients and FEMA reps that would come our way to see new tech and some family but, Mom and Dad would’ve called me before showing up. Curiosity kills the team and I hear their chairs scrap against the floor. Loud footsteps follow us as Charlie shoves the door open with a knowing look.
I step around her and peer out at the gated entrance to see a suped up red Dodge rumbling idle. The engine turns off after a moment and the driver side door swings open. I see his cowboy boots before I see him. He’s wearing a stupid flannel and his stupid backwards baseball cap. Tyler. He takes off his sunglasses, expression is hard to read. He’s not showing his normally beaming pearl whites that I caught a few times while passing Carter’s viewing of their YouTube videos. His face is stiff, uncomfortable as he rests his hands on his hips. What takes me by surprise is the young woman who steps out of the passenger side. 
I don’t notice my feet are moving until I realize how far away Birdie’s “Son of a bitch” is. I don’t even realize how fast I’m moving or how close Tyler is. “What the hell are you doing here?” I ask when I’m close enough that I could throw a rock if I wanted to. And I wanted to. 
He looks down, trying to collect his thoughts. I can see the gears turning in his brain, trying to figure out what to say to me. He rubs at his jaw, nearly smiling and leaning up against the door of the truck. His eyes sparkled a little. “Hi El.” Bold to go with charm. 
“That’s all you have to say? Hi El?” I cross my arms across my chest, staring him down. He’s insane.
Tyler purses his lips, gaze softening as he takes me in. He turns to look at the woman, now having moved in front of the hood of the car. “Kate,” his drawl is still thick with an enthusiasm that can’t be rivaled. “Meet Eleanor. Eleanor Owens.” 
“I prefer to go by Harding these days,” I retort. 
“Owens…you mean–,” the woman – Kate – stutters a little. 
“Wife,” I state, turning to look at her. “He means wife.”
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ayrtonswnna · 2 months ago
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ʚïɞ "damn we're equally dumb" LN4 texts au
⠀⠀↳ my masterlist ↳ drop a request! ↳ more lando norris!
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✧₊⁺ lando norris x winter brown (brown!female oc)
✧₊⁺ gender: crack
✧₊⁺ summary: lando is hooking up with his bosses daughter for a while now, behind his back. now zak is at his daughter's house and lando is hidden inside the closet.
✧₊⁺ warnings: many curse words, two fools who could easily fall in love, 🏳️‍🌈 jokes, LH44 and CS55 mentioned, kinda short idk
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ʚïɞ ayrtonswnna, 2024. check my masterlist or drop a request (: reblogs and feedback are always welcome! (:
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nephalem-da · 4 months ago
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Elara’s Playdate
(Bill Cipher x OC)
Synopsis: Bill Cipher drops off his mischievous baby daughter, Elara, with the unsuspecting Pines family while he celebrates his anniversary. Chaos quickly unfolds as the Pines struggle to control the demonic toddler, leading to the complete wreckage of the Mystery Shack.
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The Mystery Shack was unusually quiet as the Pines family enjoyed a rare moment of peace. Mabel was doodling in her scrapbook, Dipper was buried in a journal, Stan was counting money behind the counter, and Ford was studying an ancient artifact. It was a day like any other—or so they thought.
A sudden surge of energy rippled through the shack, making the lights flicker. Before anyone could react, a portal opened in the middle of the room, swirling with bright colors. The Pines family jumped to their feet, immediately on guard. Stan reached for his brass knuckles, Mabel grabbed her grappling hook, and Ford quickly pulled out his ray gun.
Out of the portal stepped none other than Bill Cipher, but this time, he wasn’t alone. In his arms was a small, light purple triangle with a single eye and a giggle that could only be described as mischievously adorable.
“Hey, nerds!” Bill greeted with a wide grin, ignoring the fact that the Pines were ready to attack. “No need to get your knickers in a twist. I’m not here to cause trouble—well, not for the next few hours, at least.”
“Bill!” Dipper exclaimed, stepping forward, his journal clutched tightly in his hands. “What are you doing here? And… what is that?”
“This, Pine Tree, is my darling daughter, Elara.” Bill’s voice was almost proud as he looked down at the giggling little triangle in his arms. “Isn’t she just the cutest little reality-warper you’ve ever seen?”
The Pines family was stunned into silence. Ford, who had been studying Bill intently, looked the most shocked. “A child? But… how is that possible?”
Bill chuckled, seemingly enjoying their confusion. “Oh, it’s possible, Sixer. Just because you haven’t figured it out yet doesn’t mean it can’t happen. Anyway, it’s me and Mae’s anniversary today, and we’ve got some cosmic chaos planned. But we can’t exactly take our bundle of joy with us, now can we?”
Before anyone could protest, Bill floated over to Mabel and gently placed Elara in her arms. The little triangle cooed, looking up at Mabel with wide, innocent eyes. Mabel’s heart melted instantly, despite the fact that this was Bill Cipher’s offspring.
“Mabel, sweet shooting star, you’re in charge of her while we’re out,” Bill said, his tone suddenly serious. “If anything happens to my precious Elara, well… let’s just say you’ll find out there are fates worse than being turned into a sock puppet.”
Mabel gulped but nodded, unable to resist the adorable cooing of Elara. “Don’t worry, Bill! I’ll take good care of her.”
“Good!” Bill grinned, satisfied. “Mae sends her regards, by the way. And with that, I’m off!”
With a snap of his fingers, Bill disappeared back into the portal, which closed behind him with a flash of light, leaving the Pines family in stunned silence once again. Elara wriggled in Mabel’s arms, making a soft, happy noise that was almost too cute for words.
“Did that just happen?” Dipper finally asked, still trying to process what had just occurred.
“Yes,” Ford replied, his voice filled with disbelief. “Yes, it did.”
“Well, we can’t just leave it—her—alone,” Mabel said, looking down at Elara, who was now sucking on one of her tiny points as if it were a thumb. “She’s too adorable!”
Stan grumbled, crossing his arms. “Adorable or not, that thing is still Bill Cipher’s kid. I say we toss it back into whatever dimension it came from.”
“No way, Grunkle Stan!” Mabel protested, holding Elara protectively. “She’s just a baby. And besides, if Bill finds out we didn’t take care of her, who knows what he’ll do!”
Dipper sighed, knowing Mabel was right. “Okay, so what do we do? How do we take care of a… a baby triangle?”
Ford adjusted his glasses, deep in thought. “We’ll have to treat her like any other child—keep her entertained, fed, and most importantly, keep her from using any of her powers.”
“Easier said than done,” Dipper muttered.
The day that followed was nothing short of chaotic. Elara, despite her innocent appearance, quickly proved to be a handful. She had a knack for getting into trouble, whether it was floating up to the ceiling to play with the light fixtures, or phasing through walls to explore hidden rooms in the shack.
At one point, Stan tried to distract her with some toys, only for Elara to accidentally turn them into living creatures that began to wreak havoc in the living room. It took all of Dipper’s quick thinking and Mabel’s grappling hook to catch the rogue toys and return them to their inanimate state.
“Who knew babysitting a demonic triangle would be this hard?” Mabel panted, wiping sweat from her brow as she and Dipper corralled the last of the animated toys.
Elara giggled, clearly enjoying the chaos she had caused, while Stan looked like he was about ready to pull his hair out.
By the time the day was over, the Mystery Shack was in complete disarray. Furniture was overturned, pipes were leaking, and Stan’s prized taxidermy collection had been knocked over. The Pines family was utterly exhausted, sprawled out on the floor around Elara, who was now contently gnawing on a rubber duck Mabel had given her.
As the sun set, another portal opened in the middle of the room. Bill floated through, looking as pleased as ever, with Mae following close behind. The Pines family groaned, too tired to even get up.
“Well, well, well!” Bill exclaimed, surveying the wreckage with a laugh. “Looks like little Elara had a great time! Didn’t you, sweetie?”
Elara cooed happily, floating up into her father’s arms. Mae, who had been silently observing, shook her head with a small, amused smile. “Honestly, Bill, you could’ve warned them about how energetic she is.”
“Where’s the fun in that?” Bill winked at her before turning back to the Pines. “You all did a decent job keeping her in one piece, so I guess I’ll keep my promise.”
“Promise?” Stan grumbled, struggling to sit up. “What promise?”
“I promised I might stop messing with you for a week if you kept her safe,” Bill said with a smirk. “Consider it your lucky break.”
Mabel, despite being utterly exhausted, couldn’t help but smile at Elara. “She really is cute, though.”
Mae floated over to Mabel, a soft expression on her face. “Thank you for looking after her, Mabel." She patted her head, "I knew I could count on you."
Mabel giggled as she handed Elara to Mae's outstretched hands, "Your welcome!"
Bill looked down at the Pines family one last time. “Well, it’s been fun, but we’ve got to get going. Mae, Elara, let’s roll!”
As the portal reopened, Bill and Mae floated through with Elara in tow. Just before the portal closed, Bill turned back with a mischievous grin. “See you around, nerds! And remember, don’t miss me too much!”
With that, the portal closed, leaving the Pines family in the wrecked remains of the Mystery Shack, utterly exhausted but strangely content.
Ford looked around at the chaos and let out a weary sigh. “I suppose we should be grateful that’s all they did."
Dipper nodded in agreement, leaning back against the wall. “Yeah, but I have a feeling this won’t be the last time we see them.”
Mabel, still holding the gem Mae had given her, smiled to herself. “I kind of hope not. Elara was pretty fun, in a weird, terrifying way.”
Stan groaned, dragging himself to his feet. “You kids are nuts. I need a nap.”
As the Pines family slowly began to clean up the mess, they couldn’t shake the feeling that their lives had just gotten a whole lot more complicated. But then again, when it came to Gravity Falls, nothing was ever simple.
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