#and written an oc

[whatsfourteenupto]

You laugh at me but Dr Who has reached the final point of proof that it’ll be stuck irrevocably in my brain for forever

[deoidesign]

sleeping beauty (available in print!)

[moyazaika]

tbh jaded lawyer darling trying to save yan crime kingpin from getting his ass thrown into prison for life — yet again.

he’s lingering at the court’s steps, entertaining the news reporters with a dazzling smile, the entire world waiting with bated breath to see whether this is the day his billion dollar criminal empire comes crumbling down—

“the whole world knows you did it!”

“are you ashamed of yourself?”

“do you really think you’ll walk away a free man after today?”

that gets his attention.

“darling, don’t ‘ya worry about me,” he turns to the journalist, and tilts his head to the side, pulling out his lollipop from between those lips, curled in a sly grin. “i ain’t gotta worry ‘bout no fuckin’ laws when i got the world’s best damn lawyer on my side.”

a young man, then. thick glasses and braces on his teeth. far too thin and lanky, for all his balls of steel as he speaks up. “are you implying that your lawyer is an accessory to your crimes? a corrupt lawyer for a guilty man on his way to the gallows?”

he hears you approach before he can think to respond. the familiar, expensive echo of the dress shoes he’d bought you the first time you’d won a case, before you’re there where he thinks you belong; right by his side.

“alleged crimes,” you correct, and your kingpin turns to greet you with a million dollar smile. “now, my client will not be taking any more questions. kindly, fuck off.”

cameras flash instantly and countless more mics are shoved into his pretty face, still mesmerised by you, even when you grab him by the back of his collar (unironed, you notice with absolute dismay) and pull him inside, away from prying eyes.

“you’re being tried for sixteen drug and weapons counts,” you hiss, digging your newly manicured nails into his skin, as you pull the lollipop he’s sucking on right out of his mouth with a wet ‘pop’ and toss it to the side, seething. “when will you fucking get serious!”

he only dumbly stares back at you with a slack jaw, and stars in his eyes. his voice dips an octave lower, deep in his throat when he speaks. “oh, i could get very serious if you wanted to give me a kiss. or, y’know, maybe you could act as a replacement to that sweet lollipop of mine ‘ya just—oh, fuck!”

when you stride into the courtroom later, in your neat, pressed suit and slicked back hair, nobody dares ask why the infamous ‘alleged’ crime lord is following after you with a bruise blossoming on cheeks that flush a deep, deep scarlet.

-

the judge announces the jury's verdict, and you don’t even look up from the documents you’re perusing when he’s found ‘not guilty’ in a court of law, yet again—

“jesus fuckin’ christ, i knew you were gonna save me!” your kingpin jumps up from where he’s sitting besides you, pressing his face into your shoulder as he breathes you in with an elated, shuddering breath. “can’t even imagine which ditch i’d be rottin’ in without ‘ya, sweet pea.”

“excuse me, sir.” you pry his hands off you with a detached air of reservation you reserve for when the two of you are in public, but the way your knuckles are white when you gather the countless files and papers of yours scattered on your desk tell him everything he needs to know about how pissed you are. “hands off.”

he knows he’s in for it when the two of you get home, and yet, he looks forward to the sight.

it’s always more… exciting than it should be; when you’ve got him shoved right up against a well, going off about how ‘irresponsible’ and ‘immature’ he is, nails leaving his skin bleeding from how deep you sink them into his body, too caught up in your own irritation to notice or, honestly, care.

and maybe, he thinks, as he follows you out, tonight he’ll go pay a visit to someone after you’re done with him.

a man’s got needs, y’know?

he’s high off the rush of his latest win when he walks up the porch steps hours later. it's really only the latest achievement in a long line he attributes solely to you and your efforts.

he’ll make sure to repay you one day, with all you’ve done for him. he’ll take such good care of you; let you do whatever you wanted to him, as a token of his appreciation for ho hard you've worked to keep him on the streets he rules and out of the prisons he knows he belongs in.

in fact, his efforts start right here and right now; on the steps of a nice, suburban house, that belongs to the journalist with thick glasses and braces and a wiry frame. the white picket fence and 'keep off the grass' sign do little to deter the man outside. then again, the poor bastard could have had gates of iron, and he still would have found a way to creep inside.

he never knew being a journalist paid so well. shit, maybe he should’ve gone down this path instead of, y’know, running a criminal empire. this bastard's got balls of steel, for what he had the nerve to say about you. but it’s okay! hey! he’s here to take care of it for you!

you don’t ever need to find out what he’s done in your name. ♡

he’s very adamant about this, choosing to see the job to completion all alone, slinking away from your critical, watchful gaze—only once he’s made sure you’re knocked out by watching you sleep, crouched by your bedside, for a few hours—to make sure the problem’s all taken care of.

the kingpin rings the doorbell, and patiently waits for the door to open with his scarred hands held behind his back. there’s a glock in his left back pocket, and a silencer in the right. a swiss army knife curled in his fingers, because he’s always been creative.

yeah, can you believe that? his teachers used to tell him he would make a great artist one day. and he is, he likes to think. only that his canvases are a little less traditional, and not in the banksy way. you know how it is! life imitates art... or some hippie shit like that.

there's no rules in art for what you can paint with, right? or what surfaces you can carve up into pretty shapes...

and so, when the lock clicks open, and the handle turns, it’s exactly like he said; a man’s got needs!

so sue him! really, so what if his needs mean his heavy hands are clamping over the journalist’s mouth, twisted into a silent scream—

so what if he knocks the smaller man back, a fist flying to his face, those wide eyes and all, slack jaw stupidly hanging open in disbelief—

so what if he shoves him inside and kicks the door behind them shut?

your kingpin knows what comes with the life he chose, and sullying his name is one thing—but nobody gets to drag your name through the dirt and live.

he makes sure of that, personally.

-

“where did you go last night?” you ask, not taking your eyes off the weekly newspaper in your hands. there, on the front page, a greyscale photo of you and your headache of a client, descending the court’s steps after the verdict. “and why didn’t you ask for my permission before you left?”

the headline, in big, bold letters, splashed above the picture; INTERNATIONAL OUTRAGE AS INFAMOUS DRUG LORD EVADES LAW YET AGAIN. SHADY LAWYER TO BLAME?

“just takin’ out the trash, lovely. don’t you worry ‘yer pretty little mind about it.” as he says that, he abandons his own breakfast, suddenly snatching the paper out of your hands and ripping it up, but not before noting the name of the article’s author, tucking it away for later.

shreds of the weekly paper you hadn't even gotten to read yet fall to the floor, fluttering this way and that. you close your eyes and smile. “haha. funny. well, my ‘pretty little mind’ is telling me to throw the coffee in my hands all over you.”

“tryna mark me up?” he purrs, “if you really wanna wake me up, can i suggest somethin’ else ‘ya could throw at me? or on me, really. but—”

“i’m going to kill you in your sleep, one of these days.” you deadpan, turning back to your food. he’s like a little kid, and you’re not about to indulge him by giving him the attention he so desperately wants from you.

“'yer serious??" he grins, hands flying to his face in elation, a curious blush colouring his skin a deep pink. “you mean you actually wanna step into my bedroom— at night— of 'yer own damn will?“

you take another sip of your coffee, fingers trembling around the cup. don’t throw it at him it’s what he wants don’t throw it at him it’s what he wants don’t throw it at him it’s what—

“damn... guess i should start sleeping naked, then.”

[pprodsuga]

i’m serious about you

summary: gojo realizes just how much he likes you when you go on your first date

note: feeling a bit soft for gojo rn so pls enjoy this little scenario…it’s 2am and i just wanna write something before i go to bed <3 gojo is probably a little ooc but this is my blog so!!!

i’m a lil rusty when ur comes to writing fics but i hope u enjoy!

warnings: fluff fluff fluff + she/her pronouns

masterlist :)

“I’m surprised this place is open so late.”

You mutter absentmindedly as you look at the pastries behind the glass, face at a respectable distance while Gojo stands beside you. He leans down to see what you see, his own eye catching the chocolate cake sitting on the top shelf.

“Nanami told me about it a while ago,” he explains. “Says he likes to come here when he can’t sleep since they’re open so late.”

“Do you like this bakery?”

Gojo watches as you pick and choose which pastries you want to try. The girl behind the counter lifts her gaze to him, eyes widening before averting her gaze to the small box in her hands.

“Haven’t tried it, actually,” Gojo says. He rubs the back of his neck when you turn around. “I, uh, wanted to wait. To try it with you, I mean.”

He sees your mouth morph into a shy smile and he can’t help but return it. Gojo turns and orders a beverage from the cashier, watching as her fingers fumble with the buttons before she relays the bill.

You’re about to pull out your wallet when Gojo reacts quicker than you can comprehend. You watch as he gives his credit card to the cashier without batting an eyelash. He laughs when you huff and grumble about being able to pay for the pastries since he paid for dinner, but he bumps his hips with yours and tells you it‘s on him.

You look so perfect under the awful fluorescent lights in your best dress and hair let down. He’s not used to seeing you like this; so carefree without your worries tucked away in that pretty little head of yours.

Gojo used to think he’d make it through life without relying on anyone and that he couldn’t count on other people for his own source of happiness and companionship. But he can’t deny there’s something about you that tugs at his heart strings a bit too aggressively.

This feeling follows him to the morning prior, when he asked you to accompany him to dinner. Gojo had guessed that you liked him more than you let on but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel the same. This new sensation in the pit of his stomach travels with him tonight, especially when he takes a step back to fully absorb the way you look in his jacket. It dwarfs your shorter stature yet Gojo thinks it was made for you to wear.

The girl behind the counter turns around to finish the order, leaving the two of you to your wits for the time being. Gojo senses that this—casual dating or otherwise—isn’t something you do often. He silently thanks Shoko for drilling him about you (likes, dislikes, who you are as a person aside from the so-called friend group you two belong in) because he sees your finger tapping against the side of your leg and decides to make a move.

“I really like spending time with you,” Gojo starts. “I could do this again and again if you let me.”

“Really?” you ask, sounding something akin to disbelief. Your dress follows your movements as you turn around but all Gojo can focus on is the way your cheeks begin to blush. How cute.

He takes a step forward, nodding. “Believe it or not, I really enjoy spending all of my money on cute girls.”

“Is that so?“ you ask with an uptick in your voice. “Wonder if I’m the cutest, then.”

Gojo knows you’re joking by the way you’re smiling at him, but he wants to set the record straight.

“You are,” he says, “because you’re the only one.”

A soft sound distracts the two of you and he looks past your shoulder to see the cashier has set his beverage on the counter. Gojo thanks her and grabs the cup when he notices notices she’s written her phone number on the back of the surface. His stomach drops when he sees your eyes linger on the penmanship.

He panics.

“I must be special.”

Your voice lacks the humor from moments prior, eyes glazing over the written numbers while Gojo pathetically stands like he’s a frozen statue. He doesn’t know why he cares what you think of him nor why he wants to disprove the theory that he can’t settle down because of an innate need to flirt with everything that breathes. He watches you swallow and avert your gaze to the exit sign when he nods furiously.

“Yeah, you are.”

Gojo throws the beverage in the trash can beside him and cups your jaw in both of his hands to pull you into a tender kiss in the middle of a poorly lit bakery with two other patrons. He thinks your lips taste like coconut and sugar, so soft that he could keep his mouth on you forever and never complain.

He must be doing something right because you’re kissing him back.

You pull away first and he laughs at your flustered state, leaning in to press another quick kiss to your lips before you can escape him. He pays no mind to the girl who walks into the back room.

“I’ll spend however long it takes to make you understand that I’m serious about you,” Gojo promises.

“You better send Nanami a thank you card.” You grab the box of pastries. “Taking me here was a good start.”

Yeah, he thinks. She’s the one.

[paarthursass]

Baldur's Gate 3 Companion!Tav Ask List

What if your Tav was a recruitable companion, instead of the main character? (contains major spoilers for the game, and for some dark urge runs as well)

General

Where can your Tav be recruited?  Are they first encountered on the Nautiloid, or in the Nautiloid crash region?  Or are they not recruitable until a later act?

Do the other companions have special comments or reactions upon recruiting your Tav?

Does your Tav have any comments or advice when you recruit other companions?

What sort of general actions raise or lower their approval?

Are there any instances where your Tav can permanently leave the party, depending on player character actions?

Do they have any secrets that can be revealed?  What are the prerequisites for this secret coming to light?

Do they have their own personal quest that spans the course of the game?  Can it take different branching paths depending on the choices the Player Character makes?

What do they say when the Player Character asks them to stay in camp?  How about when the Player Character asks them to come adventuring again?

Does your Tav have any escalating conflicts with one of the other companions, like Lae’zel and Shadowheart’s knife-fight?

Are there any unique NPCs associated with your Tav that can show up during the course of the game?

Are there any moments in the game that trigger unique dialogue for your character? (Like Gale’s anecdote about the barfight after you save the goblin prisoner) 

Story Specific

How does your Tav advise the player character when it comes to the Dream Visitor?

How do they advise the player character on Raphael?

How do they react to Astarion biting the Player Character?

How do they react to the Player Character letting Abdirak whip them?

How do they react to the Player Character taking their first tadpole power?

Will they stay with the Player Character regardless of siding with the goblins or the tieflings, or is it possible for them to leave the party permanently?

What can they be found doing at the tiefling/goblin party?

Do they have comments on who the Player Character chooses to spend the night with? 

Do they have unique dialogue if the Player Character lets them die when they steal the Blood of Lathander?

How do they react if the PC licks the dead spider in the Gauntlet of Shar?

What do they say if the PC tries to force them to go up on stage with Dribbles the Clown?

Is it possible for your Tav to be kidnapped and replaced by Orin?  How is Orin's deception revealed?  How do they react to the PC rescuing them in the Temple of Bhaal?

How do they react to the PC either allowing Astarion to ascend or convincing him to spare the 7000 spawn?

How does Tav react to the PC becoming a mind flayer?  Can they offer to become one themselves?  Does their reaction change if they’re romanced? 

How do they react when the Dark Urge first reveals their amnesia and murderous thoughts to them?

How do they react to the Dark Urge killing Alfira?

If romanced, how do they react to the Dark Urge trying to kill them in Act 2?

Romance

Is your Tav a romanceable character?  Are there any specific requirements to romancing them?

Does your Tav need to be flirted with to start the romance, or will they approach the PC themselves if approval is high enough?

Are they a polyamorous or a monogamous option?

Do they have a special romance scene at the tiefling/goblin party?

Does the romance have different branching paths, or just one route to take?

How do they react to the player character breaking up with them, or choosing another character over them?

What questions can Zethino ask the PC about Tav in the Love Test? 

If they’re poly, do they have a reaction to the PC engaging in a relationship with Halsin?

How do they react if the PC has sex with Mizora? The Emperor?  Haarlep?

Will they join in with the PC and the Drow Twins, or no?

What are Tav’s plans for the future?  Do they propose to the PC, or is marriage not something they’re interested in?

Free space! Share anything from your companion!Tav au!

[prahacat]

when the horrors catch up and you take an evening off to batch-process

[aemondwhoresworld]

SOUVENIR

pairing: cregan stark x fem!reader

summary: what will happen when lord stark's wife or maybe his son, reckon found a souvenir from his old lover?

warning: minor angst, jealousy, mention of an ex-lover, use of y/n, cregan is a single dad, y/n’s lord stark second wife

word-count: 1k

mae: english is not my native language, please forgive my lag of grammar. i do use google for a translation, if any reader could help me fix some of the grammar or vocab, that would be great and i’m very appreciate it!! 🤗⭐️ this is my first fic, please forgive me if i made any mistake. i might delete soon (idk if rhis was too flop 🤗)

you and Cregan have been weds for 36 moons. although you are Cregan's second wife, Cregan has always treated you with nothing but respect, love that every lady wife deserve that affection from their lord husband, even when you know that the betroth between you and him are duty, beneficial for both houses but you cannot help but falling for him more and more. the begin of the 5 moons into your marriage life, both admitted you had feelings for the other.

right now, in the middle of winter season in Winterfell, sitting in front of the fireplace inside your and Cregan's chambers, with your favorite book open in your hand along with all the thoughts of those sweet moment that you have had with Cregan and Rickon.

“mommy, mommy look what i found” even you are not his real mom, Rickon still always call you mommy. Rickon's clear voice pulled you out of those thoughts and immediately all your attention is on Rickon holding a handkerchief in his hand, you take it from Rickon's little hands and ask

“oh what did you find Rickon, can you show it to me?” you asked softly, the boy also nodded in agreement, opened the handkerchief and you immediately saw that there were seams and very skillful embroidery inside, and of course this handkerchief did not belong to you because you had no memory of embroidering a handkerchief to give to Cregan as a gift before or not from what you remeber

when you look a bit closer at the embroidered lines, its shape resembles a man and woman, hands in hands. at this moment, you immediately recognize the male figure in the scarf is Cregan because of the Stark family's signature scarf and then when you look at women figure, you wonder who is the girl standing next to your husband?

but then a small knock on your chambers door interupted

“my lady, Lord Cregan Stark wants to meet you in the dining hall,” said the maid, Anza. before the Anza can leave the chambers, you called for her and asked about the handkerchief.

“Anza, do you know who is standing next to my husband in this embroidered scarf?” you gently asked while pointing at the embroidery. when Anza didn't answer your question, you turned to look at her with curious eyes.

"what’s up? is there something i shouldn't know about?”

“no, my lady,” she continued, “if you really want to know, i’ll tell you.”

“then just tell me then” you said

“my lady, it's Lady Celess Ashwood. an interest lover of Lord Stark.”

hearing this, you were a bit disappointed, but you had to regain your composure, stand up and tell Anza to take Rickon back his chambers because it was time for him to rest. you walked out of your shared chamber, went straight to the dining hall where Cregan was already sitting there and waiting for you, all the way from your chamber to the dining hall, holding that handkerchief in your hand with lots and lots of thoughts running through your mind

does he really love you?

or is it because he still misses his past lover?

there are so many thoughts that make you go to the dining hall without even knowing when, with a handkerchief in your hand.

“y/n” Cregan stood up, walked towards you with a gentle smile on his face, Cregan's hands gently hugged your waist, then he bowed down his head and gave a kiss on your forehead, a kiss filled with love.

“Cregan” you said and gently leaned into Cregan's hug. then you asked him

“who is Celess Ashwood?” Cregan was a bit surprised when he heard this name, its been awhile since he last heard this name but he calmly answered

“how do you know this name?” Cregan asked you with a warm voice, his toned arms still not leaving your waist. still holding onto you tightly like he was afraid that if he let go you would be blown away by the cold, strong winds of Winterfell.

“please, cregan answer my question first.”

“Celess is…” he hesitated a bit, as if he didn't want to say it

“Celess is someone i once had feelings for, someone i once loved.”

“so you still miss her? that’s why you didn't want to say it, right, my Lord Stark?" You asked Cregan with a slightly disappointed voice, tears welling up in the corners of your eyes

“please call me Cregan, we are man and wife there are need to call me that” he continue

“and no, i don't want to mention it, not because i don't want you to know, but because i think it's not important anymore. now i have you and Rickon by my side, that is my first priority.”

“then why did you still keep this handkerchief?” you continue to ask him

"i didn't keep it, love. i thought i lost it so i had no intention of finding it again."

after hearing Cregan say that, you can’t say that your moods change completly but atleast you felt relieve when you learned that your suspicions about his loyalty were completely wrong.

“well, i forgave you my husband but unfortunately for you, Rickon is the one who found it and gave it to me.”

“oh my son, Rickon is always on your’s side. i pray to the Seven one day you will gave me a daughter” Cregan joked, then pulled you in a tight embrace. then you ask

“so you have to quickly plant your seed inside me, hopefully the Seven might heard your pray sooner or later, my dear husband.” at this point, you could only laugh, only now did you pay attention to it. the dining table in the dining hall was filled with food and Cregan let you out of that warm hug

“but before we start to try and bring another baby Stark into this Winterfell, we must have to to eat first, my dear y/n.”

[beetle-beep]

picked up a stim recently where I just like scratch at the top of my sun plush's head while I'm at my computer and this image slammed into my head like a baseball bat

[choccy-milky]

another scene from my most recent chap that i had to draw, bc i love the mulan trope😩💕 fight your gf man-to-man, seb🤺

[gunslingerorchid]

I can not tell you how I screamed into my pillow when I got this commission. Thank you @ogariane!!!! This piece is based on a thing I wrote to release the brain rot. Just a shameless fluff piece, where Gojo wishes Tsukiko a happy birthday.

[wistfulpoltergeist]

Amadeo Goldfield

Son of Elon Goldfield (filthy rich real estate developer and investor). A gorgeous young man of high origin trying to cut ties with his influential, oppressive family by setting up his own business. Awfully cheap Victorian house on the hill seems like a good start.

Dr. Mark Stonefall

Professor of Psychology, war veteran and member of the Parapsychological Association, investigates the paranormal with his loyal army pal and assistant, Jason. Author of several works on telepathy and extrasensory perception.

Gloria Heartaway

Mark's ex-girlfriend and therapy couch for a short time after the war. They graduated together from one faculty, yet Gloria is skeptical and finds parapsychology all fake, has strong belief in scientific methods and medicine. Mostly deals with trivia problems of high society wives.

Jason Analu

Former soldier and war veteran, Mark's flatmate and assistant. His family came from a lineage of (Sulani) healers and shamans, making him curious about his friend's research.

Elliot O'Brian

Wonder boy, a young man who beat the telepathy test giving 90% correct answers. While the world admires his abilities, his own family wishes him dead. Simply because you can't hide anything from Elliot. A cook from some small pizzeria who dreams about opening his own restaurant.

Pani Freya Burana

Hereditary witch, Tarot expert and medium who speaks with the dead through automatic writing. She lives in her own world of occult and believes she was born to give the living a well-deserved magic kick (for a small, almost insignificant fee of a few thousand). Author of ten books on how to open a Goddess within you and one on how to buy all your Goddess wants but can't afford.

Mr and Mrs Rogers

Servants in Hillhouse, strange pious, somber siblings who look after the mansion as their parents did before them, and their grandparents before that… They know that the house is haunted and the only way to avoid being cursed is to leave before dark, stay loyal and do their bids solemnly.

Hecate Moreno

15-years old Russell's half-sister, left by their father to Russell's care. Her mother died in a car crash when she was five. After Mr Moreno married a prosperous journalist and TV hostess and had three more kids with her, he lost any interest in his older kids as a painful reminder of his stressful past. Hecate is a grim, angry teen with a heart filled with dark thoughts and an irresistible appeal to horror movies. The only person she truly cares for is her brother. Secretly, she dreams about Russell turning into a vampire and eating up all their happy, successful family. She'd buy popcorn to watch that.

Russell Moreno

The plumber.

[hana-no-seiiki]

Hairpin | Popped

YAN DELINQUENT OC x READER

Mori didn’t like salons or barbershops. He didn’t like it when people touched his hair or any part of his body for that matter. Despite his harsh looks and demeanor he had quite the fragile personal bubble. As such, his hair was kept a bit long throughout his life, only getting minor trims when his father doubled down and forced him to man up and take it.

He was used to snapping at people if they ever went too close, beating up those who thought they’d survive a brush with him.

And then came you, nonchalantly putting a hairpin on his head. As if he hadn’t singlehandedly sent a dozen students to the hospital just this morning. You, who suddenly stepped into his personal space like it was nothing, making a speech about him having to thank you for helping with his awful, smelly hair.

He didn’t like you. Maybe even hated you. Who were you to touch him like that? Hold his head so gently despite your cutting words.

And why couldn’t he stop thinking about you? Thoughts of rebellion and sticking it to the authorities were soon replaced by your scowl. Your soft hands. The mix of your bitter personality and sweet countenance.

Ah, and your hairpin.

Right. You must have worn this before. Used it on your own hair as you’ve done his. Held it, run it along your locks, cover it with your bodily oils.

He couldn’t help it. His tongue just started roaming the metal accessory. Desperate for a taste of you, a semblance of the feeling he got through your encounter. His hands subconsciously moved over his crotch, palming over his boxers.

He could think of another thing of his you could pop.

Want another fic with Mori/ to know what he looks like ? Check this post out !

If you want to check out his character profile , go to this link !

[cable-salamder]

It’s okay, it’s okay / My love will fall with grace

(When Ninjago stresses me out I revert back to watching Skybound three times over and putting The Crane Wives on loop. To which the funny coincidence happened that I realized how well Icarus fits Skybound Nya. This is a direct redraw of the album cover. Goodnight <3)

[anemonet]

Iterator can from my wips (please read that in the tone of blorbo from my show :) (that superstructure is a girl (he/it) to me)

[appri-dot]

@ballcrusher74 BOO MF!!!!!!😈😈😈😈

[psrj]

officers of the hungry heart