#that could be fun to play with actually

[trashogram]

Per The Book of The Office of Spirits Vassago has the the power to “incite the love of women”… 😏

[o0kawaii0o]

Ace Attorney x Hades

[kizzer55555]

DP x DC: The Most Dangerous Card Game

Ok so Danny has essentially claimed earth as his. And he is fully aware that there are constant threats to the planet. Now he can’t stop a threat that originates on earth (that’s something he’ll leave to the Justice league) but he can do something about outside threats. Doing some research on ancient spells, rituals, and artifacts, he cast a world wide barrier on the planet to protect it from hostile threats so they cannot enter. This will prevent another Pariah Dark incident. However, barriers like this come at a price. You see, there are two ways to make a barrier. Either make one powered up by your own energy and power (which would be constantly draining) or set up a barrier with rules. The way magic works is that nothing can be absolutely indestructible. It must have a weakness. The most powerful barriers weren’t the ones reinforced with layer after layer of protective charms and buffed up with power. Those could eventually be destroyed either by being overpowered, wearing them down, or by cutting off the original power source. No, the most powerful barriers were the ones with a deliberate weakness. A barrier indestructible except for one spot. A cage that can only be opened from the outside. Or that can only be passed with a key or by solving a riddle. So Danny chooses this type of barrier and does the necessary ritual and pours in enough power to make it. And he adds his condition for anyone to enter. 

Now the Justice league? Find out about the barrier when Trigon attempts to attack, they were preparing after he threatened what he would do once he got to earth. How he would destroy them. The Justice league tried to take the fight to him first but were utterly destroyed, so they retreated home to tend to their injuries, and fortify earth for one. Last. Stand. Only when Trigon makes his big entrance…he’s stopped.

The Justice league watch in awe as this thin see-through barrier with beautiful green swirls and speckled white lights like stars apears blocking Trigon and his army’s advance. The barrier looks so thin and fragile yet no matter how hard the warlord hits, none of his attacks can get through and neither can he damage said barrier. That’s when Constantine and Zatanna recognizes what this barrier is. Something only a powerful entity could create. For a moment, the league is filled with hope that Trigon can’t get through yet Constantine also explains that it’s not impenetrable. And clearly Trigon knows this too for he calls out a challenge. 

And that’s when, in a flash of light, a tiny glowing teenager appears. He looked absolutly minuscule compared to Trigon and yet practically glowed with power (this isn’t a King Danny AU though).

And that is when the conditions for passing the barrier are revealed. And the Justice realize that the only thing stopping Trigon and his army from decimating earth. The only way he can get through….is by beating this glowing teenager in a card game. 

Not just any card game though. The most convoluted game Sam, Danny, and Tucker invented themselves. It’s like the infinite realms version of magic the gathering, combined with Pokémon, and chess. And Danny is the master. So sit down Trigon and let’s play.

(The most intense card game of the Justice league’s life).

After Danny wins, this happens a few more times with outer word beings and possibly even demons attempting to invade earth, yet none have been able to beat the mysterious teenager in a card game. Constantine might even take a crack at it and try to figure out how to play. He’s really bad though. Every time this happens, the Justice league worry that this might be the time the teenager looses. Yet every time, he wins (even if only barely). 

Meanwhile, Danny, Sam, and Tucker have gotten addicted to the game and play it almost daily. Some teachers might seem them playing the game are are like ‘awww how cute’ not realizing this game is literally saving the world. Jazz is just happy they aren’t spending as much time on their screens playing Doomed.

[bastardlybonkers]

feetman

[secretsimpleness]

Sometimes I want to bring Morrigan but then I remember I play as a face-tanking rogue and I bring Wynne. Warden Cousland, Morrigan, Wynne / Dragon Age Origins (c) Bioware

[egophiliac]

the lovers, reversed

(aka I'm still freaking out about Jou)

[bwamatoast]

we need more armpit tickling art../nf

so cruel... do we really....

[dayurno]

sometimes i’m sooooo blown away by the fact that kevin is so smart……. like yes he is the fox with the highest grades despite being also the fox with the tightest training schedule and yes he canonically gets called an obsessive genius and yes the extra content explicitly says he is both very smart and very willing to teach people. but really i am thinking about kevin playing reporters like fiddles, jean calling kevin too good of a liar to ever let anything slip, kevin going up to andrew post-game and wordlessly helping cover up the fact andrew is off his medicine by pretending andrew’s racquet had broken (and then proceeding to discreetly crush it in his hand when the foxes gather around andrew), kevin living a lifetime of walking on the edge of riko’s knife, kevin hiding french, hiding thea, kevin spotting potential from a mile away, kevin who even riko thought was brilliant and sharp-tongued. yeah……..!

[bunnieswithknives]

GET HIS ASS FLOWERS! GET HIS ASS!!

Did Flowers target Dale specifically because of him shooting his own son?

Yes! Sort of. But don't mistake anything Flowers does to be out of genuine good will

[funkbun]

bugsnax fans should go play great god grove and ggg fans should go play bugsnax ❤️ okay.

[gunstellations]

In the world I love

_

In a different world

[deoidesign]

when your main characters start dating after years of writing so they finally get to be like this

[splankie]

i would do anything for murderbot. this includes learning mecha it appears

[scoriarose]

She came up with a new activity

[normal-person-i-promise]

hushed affirmations and gentle caresses

arataka reigen x female reader

no tws :] just a bunch of fluff and kissing

first chapter here, though its not needed to understand this one :> it makes more sense though

Though his head hurts and his heart is beating so fast it threatens to burst, he still leans on the doorway, grinning so smugly you would've assumed you were the one hungover.

He calls your name in a smooth voice, one laced with confidence. "So we're dating now? Like, boyfriend-girlfriend type stuff?"

★ ★ ★

You wake up a little earlier than Arataka does. It's about... 10, 10 in the morning, when you awaken to see he hasn't woken up yet. The city outside your bedroom window is alive with the weekend chatter and the excited footsteps that come with it, though it's barely audible; you're too busy focusing on Arataka's slow, steady breathing as his chest rises and falls, studying the way his eyes would flutter as he shifts, trying to get comfortable...

You're still nestled comfortably in his arms, that familiar scent of his sharp cologne and the soft cotton of his white dress shirt bringing a sense of peace and comfort to you. He's warm, his arms wrapped around you almost protectively, your head resting on his chest as you lay on top of him — he's like the cutest, most comfortable pillow you've ever slept on.

And he's going to have the worst hangover.

You lay there quietly in Arataka's warm embrace, just... Staring up at his calm face, his kissable lips set in a slight smile, his eyes shut tightly as he dreams. His golden hair is disheveled, his bangs out of place and in a halo on the pillow.

He's so... Cute, god...

You find your hand on his face: tracing his jaw, feeling the sockets of his eyes and running your fingers through his hair, cradling his cheek and running a thumb across his lower lip — you're almost playing with him, like a child with a new doll, toying with and pulling whatever you can. It's hard to resist, after all; he's too cute not to touch.

Arataka doesn't awaken, thankfully.

You free your other arm from his embrace and now bring both your hands up to his face, a mischievous grin plastered on yours as your gentle hands settle on him. Pinching his cheeks, squishing and pulling them like a grandmother with her grandchild, you coo and fawn, mumbling and murmuring about how absolutely adorable he is. You run your hands through his messy hair, adjust his soft, white dress shirt, fidget with the digits of his fingers.

It's only a second later when Arataka stirs and you panic to rapidly remove your hands from his face. He shifts you in his arms, his eyes fluttering open slowly, slowly, taking a moment to focus before they find yours. He seems to short circuit as he stare at you in confusion, before—

"EH?!"

He pushes you off him quickly, scrambling to put some distance in between the two of you. He stares at you, shaken, before the events of the night come rushing back to him — it causes his face to flush a bright, bright red for just a moment before he hides his face in his hands.

Arataka grumbles and groans in embarrassment, and you can't help but find it absolutely adorable.

You were so... Warm, in his arms, it felt so... So right, like you were supposed to be there, and, oh— last night, your touch? Your sweet, sweet hands caressing his face so, so lovingly? And, god, your voice, your voice when you asked him if he was okay? The kiss—?!

He bends over on himself in the purest form of embarrassment you've ever seen, muttering and mumbling words laced with regret.

He can't help but... Miss you, though. Miss how nice it felt with you in his arms.

The whole time all these thoughts are racing through his groggy mind, you're staring at him with a mixture of concern and amusement, not sure whether to comfort him or tease him about it.

A splitting headache begins to pound at Arataka's head, an extreme fatigue forming in his muscles and limbs, and a sharp pang of regret starting to stab him in the pit of his stomach. A hangover, and regret.

"God, I messed up..." He mutters bitterly into his hands, low under his breath so that you won't hear. You hear it anyway, though.

"I warned you you'd regret it," you say to him, the smug grin you have plastered on your face audible in your voice, making Arataka grumble even louder. He stays quiet other than that, though.

Your grin widens when you don't hear a reply from him, deciding to see just how red you can get his cheeks.

You lean in close, just enough for your warm breath to ghost over his hands pressed tight to his flushed face. "And who was the one nodding his head when I asked whether he was sure?"

You let a beat of silence pass, before, with a voice laced heavily with a smug grin,

"You, was it?"

You stay quiet for a moment to see his reaction, feeling a surge of pride when you see Arataka's shoulders stiffen as he grumbles louder.

More memories, along with more opportunities to tease him, come to mind.

"And who, pray tell, was the one who asked to sleep in my flat?"

You tilt your head to the side, cradling your chin like a great philosopher pondering a deep question. Your eyes roam around the room for just a moment before they land on Arataka again — and he's aware of how your gaze traces his face, running up and down in an almost fascinated daze. You still manage to keep your tone teasing, though.

"Because it certainly wasn't me."

Arataka makes muffled sobbing noise, almost in pain as you watch the red from his cheeks spill over to his ears and neck.

God, you're so... Annoying, especially when you talk like that, reminding him of all the things he did when he was drunk last night...

He— he was drunk, okay?! He wasn't thinking straight! It doesn't matter how long he's wanted to kiss you, he—!

"Stop... Talking..." Arataka groans through gritted teeth, his tone begging and his voice thick with regret.

You arch a teasing brow at him.

"Oh? And why is that?"

You lean in even closer, reaching your hands up to his wrists and wrapping your fingers around them, trying to pry his hands off his face to get a better look at his flushed cheeks. You manage to get them off, holding them near his cheeks.

"Embarrassed, are we?"

Arataka's eyes are wide with fear as he stares at you, his breathing quick and shallow, his face redder than the colour itself. Your eyes fall down to his lips, and his cheeks seem to flush even more, impossible as it is.

His mind is still reeling from the clumsy kiss from the night before — you'd tasted just like the cola you'd drank, your lips cold from the ice and your hands cooling on his hot skin. It felt so... Good, but, god...

Steam almost spouts from his ears as his mind overheats. His expression is overwhelmed as he stares at you with the reddest face you've ever seen on someone, his mouth slightly agape.

Arataka clears his throat, casting his gaze to the side as he struggles to get his hands out of your grasp. You let one hand go, bringing the other into both your hands and beginning to fidget with the fingers.

"Don't... Tell anyone, please," he almost begs in a whisper, his breathing growing shallow as you run a hand up and down his arm, fidgeting with him — bored with nothing to do with your hands. He likes when you touch him. He likes your warm, warm hands on his skin. He likes how you're so comfortable with just... Fidgeting with him like some toy.

Don't stop, please.

"Aww, okay," you say in disappointment, cracking each of Arataka's knuckles with a satisfying 'click!'. He lets you, watching as your hands move from one finger to another, almost mesmerized.

He lets out a sigh of relief at your words, just as you take his other hand and beginning to crack the knuckles on that one, too.

Though he won't ever admit it to you, he likes it. He likes how you handle him just like a little girl with a new doll, he likes how you so lovingly press your lips to his knuckles, he likes how gentle your fingers are as you run them across his cheeks and over his features — it makes his mind go haywire and his heart beat wildly in his chest.

He likes you. He likes you a lot, a lot more than he thinks he does.

You let go off his hands, getting up and off the bed. You stretch, your back popping.

"Hey, Arataka," you ask, your gaze growing worried. You reach a hand out to smooth his golden hair down, trying to make it neater — you're aware of the horrible hangover he's probably having right now.

He hums in response, closing his eyes in contentment.

"I'll go get you some painkillers for your hangover, yeah? Make you some soup and toasted bread?"

He leans into your touch as you cradle his cheek, a low, contented hum vibrating his chest. His eyes are closed tightly, and he startles when you remove your hands and he loses your touch, his eyes snapping open.

"Oh, u-uh, what? Yes, alright, mm-hmm, okay!" Arataka says quickly, embarrassed.

When you get there, Arataka is waiting for you, his cheeks flushing when he sees you again. Every time he lays eyes upon you, the events of last night come rushing up to him...

You prepare his food quickly — it's just a cup of warm tea and a can of boxed soup. You toast some buttered bread as the water boils, and when it's done, you bring the bowl of soup, the plate of toast, and the cup of tea to the bedside table.

He takes the bowl and toast, dipping the bread and biting a piece off with a loud 'crunch!" and swallowing loud enough to get you to know that he's enjoying it. You watch him; you'd prepared a simple breakfast of your favourite flavoured spread on plain, untoasted bread for yourself, and you munch on it as Arataka downs the tea greedily, chugging the soup and stuffing the bread down his throat.

He loves you, he supposes, though he's never loved someone before.

You'd made something for him. You, who's always kind and understanding with him; you, who always jokes with him; you, who he loves with all his heart, had made something for him, no matter how small. Him, Arataka, of all people, was the one you chose to love.

He can't even begin to explain just how much he appreciates you — his words would become nothing more than a mumbly jumble, his manners dissolving into a flustered mess.

"Anything else I can get you?" You offer politely and so, so lovingly, just as Arataka is swallowing the painkillers.

He grins.

"You can get me a kiss, but I—"

You cut him off before he gets to finish, gripping the collar of his shirt and pulling him towards you. He's taken aback by your directness, his eyes going wide and his body stiffening — though it's not long before he's returning the kiss, closing his eyes tightly and leaning into it.

Pressing your lips gently to his, you run a careful hand through his hair, caressing his cheek with a loving touch. You can feel the crumbs of the toast and the warm taste of the tea and soup on his lips.

He tastes... Comforting, you suppose. A familiar flavour, that scent of the mouth of someone who's just woken up, the warm taste of freshly toasted bread, the salty flavour of the powdered soup. He tastes nice.

You're careful not to make the kiss last too long, in case he loses his breath; and you're taking care to make sure your touch isn't too painful on his head, lest his headache return.

When you break the kiss, Arataka is nothing more than a mess of mumbly words and flushed cheeks, his hands shaky and his eyes wide. He's so, so cute, in the way that he'd struggle to form proper sentences, the manner in which he'd clumsily try to keep you close.

His heart is beating wildly in his chest, those familiar butterflies in his stomach making his head spin and his vision swim. You kissed him again, you kissed him again! Oh, god, you kissed him...

Arataka gives you lopsided grin, wiping his mouth with the back of his palm like he'd just eaten.

"That will suffice," he says with utmost confidence.

Just in case, of course, you kiss him again. He seems to be getting the hang of it — he tilts his head to press his lips more onto yours, keeps a hand to the back of your head to elongate the kiss, runs a hand up and down your spine.

When you break the kiss, you wrap your arms tightly around him, squeezing his ribcage so hard it elicits an absolutely adorable yelp of surprise from him, followed by rushed words to loosen your grip.

You're laying on top of him as you crush his torso under yours, your head resting below his shoulder.

You've noticed he's gotten a lot more confident: he can form proper sentences and talk without mumbling, his movements aren't as shaky and uncontrollable, and his kisses are getting better with each time he practices on you.

Arataka wraps his arms around you as you get settled on him, resting his chin on the top of your head. You're so... Comforting, so warm and soft... You're nice to have in his arms, and he finds himself adjusting you do that you're as pressed up against him as he can possibly get it.

You can hear his gentle snoring after ten minutes or so. You wake him up, saying you're going to go shower for a moment as you slip out of his groggy grasp.

You shower as quickly as you can, changing into your most comfortable pair of home clothes. The soft cotton hands loosely off your frame when you enter your bedroom, leaning on the doorframe as you bundle your dirty clothes and throw it into the laundry basket.

Your eyes fall to Arataka as he stares at you.

"Uh, right, I... Got this. Here."

You rummage through your cupboards. It's only a moment later when you take out a pair of folded clothes, slowly placing it next to where Arataka sits comfortably in your bed, lounging like he belongs there. Which he doesn't does, of course.

"These should... These should fit you," you say awkwardly, clearing your throat.

He likes it. He likes you. He loves you.

Arataka, too, showers, though he takes a lot longer. He's wearing your clothes (not that he has a choice, but not that he minds), and, god, he... He loves the fact that what he's wearing now, you've worn before — the cotton of the shirt worn from years of usage, the pants you lended him warm against his skin — and it smells just like you; a warm, soft scent as he slips the clothing on, feeling the old threads cascading down from his shoulders and hanging loosely around his frame.

He finds it... Cozy, and... And sweet, the smell of the laundry detergent and that warmness of the sun. It's so, very, very... Comforting? It's comforting, to him.

Though his head hurts and his heart is beating so fast it threatens to burst, he still leans on the doorway, grinning so smugly you would've assumed you were the one hungover.

He calls your name in a smooth voice, one laced with confidence. "So we're dating now? Like, boyfriend-girlfriend type stuff?"

You're scrolling on your phone when he asks you that question, and you switch it off. Seeing Arataka wearing your clothes makes you feel... Nice. He doesn't seem to be arguing about it, at least.

You shrug, a thin smile on your face.

"Must be weird, huh? Finally getting a girl after being single your whole life?"

You narrow your eyes at him as he sputters, your grin widening as his cheeks flush.

He presses a hand tightly to his mouth, gripping the doorframe as his knees almost seem to buckle. The red from his cheeks is visible even through his fingers.

"You're going— to KILL me," he chokes out, his tone laced with embarrassment.

"AND, FOR THE RECORD—!"

Arataka jabs an accusing finger in your face, and you watch on, amused, as he talks in such a panicked tone that you find it hard to understand more than the first few words. He's shouting, yelling.

"ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIPS AREN'T EVERTHING IN LIFE! TO NOT HAVE A ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIP IS THE SAME AS NOT HAVING A GOOD MEAL! YOU CAN SURVIVE WITHOUT IT JUST FINE, BUT IT WOULD BE NICE IF YOU HAD ONE!"

He scoffs in disappointment, crossing his arms, his tone almost annoyed — though that undertone of endearment is definitely there.

"I'm surprised you haven't learnt anything from working under me."

You roll your eyes.

"You can just say you're bitter about being single. It won't hurt you."

Arataka sputters again, opening his mouth to argue — but closes it quickly, realising that he's just making himself look worse. Instead, he crosses his arms tightly and grumbles, which an adorable display despite his agitation.

You grin, getting up and off the bed to ruffle his hair. He pushes your hand off, annoyance written on his face.

[seiwas]

for writing game, iwaizumi + assistance <3

hope this sparks some inspo and thank you in advancee

hi there!! thanks for sending in a prompt 🫶

contains: friends to lovers (ish), halloween parties, reader is dressed as catwoman, expletives, iwaizumi is thiiiiis 🤏 close to murdering seijoh4 (jk)

iwaizumi + assistance

this is a set-up.

iwaizumi knows he shouldn't have fucking believed anything the boys "promised" him back when they assigned him this costume.

the suit is fucking tight, spandex digging into his groins and all other crevices that definitely should be aired out after after a few hours. he's had to constantly readjust his stance almost every few minutes, the black fabric compressing his thighs and torso, significantly constricting the range of motion his shoulders and arms are typically used to. if anything else, it could double up as a back brace from how rigidly straight it's kept his posture all night.

he'll give it to makki though; he did outdo himself sourcing this year's costumes―this batman set looks pretty damn legit.

except for one tiny problem.

there's no fucking pee hole. it's a zip-up, zip-down one-piece situation. and that normally wouldn't be a problem, except that oikawa "accidentally" knocked over a cocktail straight into his pants, the sickeningly sweet liquid now seeping straight into the fabric and past his boxers―cold and sticky as it touches his skin.

and so, the problem: his pants are wet, it makes him want to fucking pee, and coincidentally, the only vacant bathroom is across the hall, at your apartment.

this is why he believes this is a set up. that, and the fact that you're dressed in an outfit strikingly similar―just with cat ears.

he's been asked five times in this party if you're in matching couple outfits.

it catches him off guard, flusters him because of how badly he wants to say yes. but, you're just friends, and he doesn't even think you like him that way (despite mattsun and oikawa practically begging him to confess. makki tells him he thinks you're going to do it first).

so he politely smiles and says no, but you look good, your costume clinging to you in all the right places. thank fucking god he has a cape because he's pretty sure he spent the first 30 minutes in the party hiding his boner.

"hajime, it's fine, i swear," you stand beside him in front of the conveniently locked bathroom in oikawa's apartment. from the other side of the door, he's pretty sure he hears mattsun and his girlfriend mumbling. maybe fucking? who knows. "you can just use the bathroom in my apartment."

he glances at you before closing his eyes, contemplating, before finally agreeing to you.

"okay."

if he's being honest with himself, friends is definitely an incomplete label to what you are. as oikawa's neighbor, you are conveniently around all the time; and oikawa being oikawa, the ever-social butterfly, he's somehow managed to carve a space for you in the friend group.

(never mind the fact that oikawa's sniffed him out from the moment he first introduced you.)

you were a crush, then a friend, and now you're someone he picks up from work and drives back home three times a week, because he "has to train oikawa." you don't question it, even when you both know he stays over for dinner way past the gym's open hours.

"you know where it is," you open your apartment and urge him in.

"sorry again," he turns to face you.

"yeah, yeah, just pee!" you laugh, shoving him towards the bathroom door.

getting out of the suit is manageable, and he's able to wipe off a bit of the cocktail that's leaked to the suit and his boxers just to make sure it isn't gross and sticky when he gets home later. peeing is a big relief once he gets it over with, but it's when he has to suit up again that things become difficult.

stretching out the spandex one body part at a time is a workout in itself―the hardest task being when he has to pull it over his shoulders, adjusting it to fit properly over his arms and chest.

but then the zipper breaks.

and he truly thinks makki has fucked him over.

iwaizumi contemplates what to do next for a good, good while. he tries calling oikawa, only to no success every time; no way in hell is he calling mattsun in the middle of having sex. and calling makki isn't even an option; he'd never hear the end of it.

then you knock on the door, your voice soft and concerned as you ask, "hajime? you good in there?" you hit it spot on, too, "do you need help with your suit?"

iwaizumi presses his palms to his eyes. he's a rational man, straightforward and logical in thinking. there is literally no other option for him right now but to ask help from you. again.

fuck.

.

it's 30 minutes later when oikawa barges in your door, and the sight that greets him is iwaizumi in nothing but a hoodie (the hoodie you borrowed some time ago) and his boxers, with his hands on your waist as you hover your hairdryer over the crotch of his batman costume―cat headpiece off and all.

"you finally got together?!"