#cyan babes

[chinzhilla]

for @asiandramanet march creator bingo » blorbo and @userdramas event 15 » something new

not sure what you'd call this style but it's my first time going for something like. meta-realism? and first extensive use of pngs, which were all sourced here, as well as my own handwriting for all the various scribbles. +insp: x x x

[piratespencilart]

Blue boy Dorian! 💙 Suggested by emmaprew on instagram. :) The prettiest boy.

[ID: A colour wheel split into eight wedges with Critical Role characters in some of the wedges. Orange is Artagan, yellow is Veth, green is Orym, cyan is Pike, and blue is Dorian. They are all smiling in various poses. End ID.]

[just-a-girl-with-a-pistol]

No artificer, being a cyan lizard cowboy aint gonna help you get through underhang.

[katsutora]

when hiori spinoff finally releases i’ll be your certified resident hiori girl just you wait

[sodacowboy]

some of y’all don’t know the difference between blue and teal and it shows

[aha-my-villainous-thoughts]

Listen Taika, just hand over the cyan and peach floral silk two piece over now and no one has to get hurt 🔪

Taika and the puppies 🥰 [x]

Bonus:

[more gifs]

[charmercharm3r]

Phases

Phase Four; The Bigger Bed

LMH, HJS

Masterlist, Story Masterlist

wc: 4.2k

Synopsis: Whoever said patience is a virtue never met Jisung and Minho.

warnings: smut, explicit sexual content, poly!minsung, mxfxm, mxm, barely switch!jisung, sub!minho, barely softdom!fem reader, oral (m), gender envy?, cumming untouched, cum swapping, minho is rich rich fr

☆ﾟcan be read as stand alone

Phase Three ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ Phase Four ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ Phase Five

☆ﾟ

“Will you sit down? We all have to agree or else I’ll be silently wallowing in self consciousness for all of eternity.” You pull out the seat next to you for Jisung to fill, Minho on your other side with his arm slung over the backrest.

“I’m fine with anything you pick out for the room, I just want a bigger bed.”

“Same,” Minho combed his long hair back, gently caressing the back of your neck. “Pick out any decorations you like.”

“No, because if I pick out, like, a throw pillow neither of you like then you’ll be forced to look at it all day every day, then hating the throw pillow will turn into bottled up emotions. Bottled up emotions turn into hatred, hatred towards me for picking ugly pillows. Hating me will turn into kicking me out and making me sleep on the cold, hard ground with nothing but the throw pillow that caused you years of hidden resentment that could’ve been avoided if you’d only helped me pick out room decorations.” Your boyfriends were silent, looking at each other behind your head with raised eyebrows and unconvinced grins.

The laptop in front of you has had pages of home shopping sites open for the past week and making your engines run slower because of how many items were in each of their carts. “So please,” you pulled up the first item in the first webpage, “tell me if you like it or not.”

Jisung leaned in and rested his chin on your shoulder, “...it’s a pretty ugly throw pillow, babe.”

You scoffed and pushed his forehead back with your finger. “This is why I need you both here! I don’t wanna lay outside with an ugly throw pillow to keep me company.”

Minho massaged the nape of your neck with nimble fingers, doing little to soothe you. But he leaned in closer to the computer as well, squinting his eyes and using his free hand to move your hand away to take control of the cursor and look around the page. He’d only scrolled down two or three times to find the recommended items and clicked the first one he saw. “I like blue.”

You turned to face him slowly with a raised brow. He seemed to be objective in the matter, then quirked the corners of his mouth for a light smile and quickly pecked your lips. Although you weren’t entirely convinced they were taking this seriously, it was a start. “Blue… I can work with that. But do you prefer navy blue? Cyan? Royal? Aqua? Baby blue? Maybe more of a cobalt–”

“Oooh, they have sapphire blue!” Jisung stole the laptop entirely and began clicking around, adding things to the cart without consultation.

The three of you were sat at the dining room table for about an hour and a half. You let Jisung pick out stuff he liked, then passed the computer to Minho so he could do the same. Of all the things they chose, you narrowed it down to a final list and figured that it could wait one more day as you all grew too hungry to enjoy online shopping anymore. Minho had suggested he cook something quick, though it wouldn’t be filling. That was when Jisung begged for a cheat night and to order takeout, the both of them looked at you for an opinion.

“I kinda want pizza,” made the younger of your boyfriends jump up and let out a hooray and move to the couch.

Naturally, you and Minho followed and crowded into the tight space. The seating arrangement was always the same, Minho on the left, Jisung in the middle, you on the right. As Jisung placed the order for dinner, you rested your back against the armrest and threw your legs onto his lap. He kept your knees against his abdomen as Minho let his head fall to Jisung’s shoulder. Minho absentmindedly played with your sock-covered toes, tugging and twiddling them while watching Jisung’s phone. The sight itself was cute, you just had to pull out your phone and take a quick photo of them.

Three slices each and thirty minutes later, you’d let out a long, content sigh and moved to the floor so you could lay out. The other two were still going at the pizza, Minho took the opportunity to slip his feet under your shirt and rub your belly. “Cold feet,” you shooed him off and he frowned.

Mouth full of crust, Jisung suggested, “let's go mattress shopping tomorrow.”

“Y’know what?” Your hands coming to rest behind your head made your shirt rise and Minho snuck his feet under it again with a mischievous giggle. “Neither of you asked me to move in.”

“What? Yes we did,” Jisung mumbled at you and joined in playing footsies with the brunette on your belly.

“No you didn’t. I still have my apartment.”

“You can’t afford that,” Minho interjected, frowning.

“I know. So ask me to move in. Or find a new foot warmer.”

“Do I need to?”

“Yeah, it’s not official. I’m a freeloader. Not a penny paid in rent.”

“You don’t pay rent either,” Minho turned to Jisung, staring at the blank television across the room. He didn’t respond, poked in the cheek by the brunette.

“Hm? What’re we talking about?”

“Rent.”

“The musical?”

You and Minho shared a knowing look as he twisted on the couch to lay his head in Minho’s lap. Silence fell over the three of you as conversation died down while comfort took over. Delicate fingers ran through his blonde hair, massaging lightly and making Jisung’s head fall towards you, seeing his eyes slowly close with contentment.

Both you and Minho watched with soft gazes as his snores filled the room, eyes eventually meeting with one another and lazily, happily smiling at one another. Unnoticed to either, but your breaths came to time with the sleeping blonde’s, chests rising and falling in a rhythm similar to that of a sleeping baby’s, not a care in the world.

Except maybe one care in the world.

Labels aren’t everything, having one doesn’t mean you are more or less to either Minho or Jisung and they love you regardless. It didn’t feel one sided— or in this case, three sided, however there was a lingering feeling that told you you just wanted reassurance. Being on the same page with Minho was the one thing that always needed to be obvious, it had to be one of the things you always knew you were on because he was already cautious and tip-toed every step he took.

His facial expressions don’t get easier to read, but body language always gives him away. Minho is a master masker, though that only ever applied to carefully chosen words and intonation. The way he busied his fingers twisting Jisung’s hair, lovingly caressed your belly and sides with his feet, but his shoulders were tense and kept his knees pressed together in such a way that couldn’t have been comfortable despite how hard he tried to present as such.

Breaking him from his thoughts in a manner that made him feel at ease or in control, you felt rather confident in doing. You silently point at a pillow at his side and he hands it to you wordlessly to place beneath your head. With hands free you could place one on top of his foot to stop his twiddling, his eyes softened and knew you were there if he needed.

You weren’t sure if he was thinking the same thing you were, but in a half whisper, spoke anyway. “There’s something else you haven’t asked me.”

Minho bit his lip and slowed his twiddling fingers, looking down briefly at the sleeping boy in his lap. “Did he ask?”

You nod, “you don’t have to, I don’t need it. But I wanna be at the same step as you, wherever you are, if you know what I mean.”

“I do,” the corner of his mouth twitched upward, “why don’t you ask me instead?”

“I’m an intruder, give me permission to enter.”

“Baby, you’re our girlfriend, not a vampire.”

“Keep tossing that word around lightly ‘nd I’ll be allergic to garlic and holy water.”

“So you do need it.” He got you there, caught you tongue tied with that sly smirk and triumphant stare of his.

With a deep sigh, you reasoned, “I don’t need it. Like I said… just wanna be wherever you are.”

Minho’s eyes crinkled with his slanted smile, “come here and ask me.” He raised his feet up so you could stand, patting the little bit of couch space on his other side. As you sat as carefully as possible to avoid waking Jisung, Minho intertwined his fingers in your hair at the back of your neck, where he always tended to end up being.

Your body faced his and Jisung’s sleeping form, tops of your thighs pressed to his side and joining in pushing the blonde’s bangs from his face to admire. Minho could see the light flush across your cheeks as you thought of what you wanted to say, gently stealing away from Jisung to tip your chin in his direction. He waited, not verbally rushing you but also too giddy within his skin to not plead with his big, round eyes to hurry you up.

“Min,” he nodded rapidly, “will you—“

“Yes,” Minho pulled you by the chin to crash his lips against yours for a few electrically charged kisses. You pull away to giggle against him, “I didn’t finish the ques—“

“Ask me again,” he didn’t stop placing supple pecks to your lips, all the while smiling and keeping you close.

“Will you,” peck, “be my,” smooch, “boyfriend?”

“Yes,” press, “yes,” kiss, “yes,” a deep inhale to breathe in the happiness that radiated off of you. Minho obviously enjoyed how flustered the question made you, in particular loving how you smiled against his lips, as well. 

The snoozing boy below stirred, flipping to look up at where you and Minho were sharing the kiss. “What about meee?”

You couldn’t help but giggle against the brunette’s plump puckers before leaning down to kiss sleepy Jisung, Minho following as well, then deciding to turn in for the night. 

Somehow, the three of you managed to wrangle together to do as Jisung wanted, which was to go mattress shopping. He wanted the full experience, sheets, duvets, variety of pillows with different hardness and shape. Jumping from mattress to mattress, you had to hold his hand just to keep him nearby so as to not get lost. Aside from the mattress itself, the sheet thread count, and silk pillowcases, Jisung also requested a bed frame with sturdy posts. What that meant for you and Minho, the two of you shared a half worried, half excited look.

“Ours is a Queen, so King sized should be good enough. Nicee leg room,” Minho suggested as the three of you came closer and closer to the back of the store. Your arm was getting tugged in another direction as you tried to follow Minho, Jisung wanting to run off towards the accent blankets.

“Stay,” you instruct as you tug him back to your side. Turning back to the brunette, “is a California King too much to ask for?”

“Ooh, I want a California King,” Jisung held onto your arm to join in the conversation.

Minho only rolled his eyes at the pair of you, looking back at the row of king sized beds and sitting on the edge of one. He pressed his hand into it and examined the feeling, then suddenly hopped up and threw his entire body back into the center of the bed. You expected that from Jisung, but not Minho, and definitely not in public. Then he did it again, harder to the point that the flimsy display it was on shook beneath it.

Jisung let go of your hand and jumped onto the mattress next to him with Minho’s arms wide open to catch. “I like this one. However,” Jisung giggled as they both looked at you and made the littlest bit of room for you to join them. Minho wiggled his eyebrows and presented his hand over the little space. “You know you wanna,” he enticed further, and you just couldn’t help it, running the few steps forward and literally lept into their arms. The three of you were a fit of giggles as you maneuvered into your respective sleeping arrangements to make sure you all managed well.

The commotion caught the attention of a salesman and he strolled over with confusion, “can I… help you lot?”

With laughter in his voice, Jisung sat up, “yeah! We’ll take this one.”

Same day delivery came in clutch purely because the three of you were out $1,000 for the king sized mattress, plus the bedframe and whatever little things Jisung added to the cart at the last minute. You were surprised Minho’s card didn’t decline at the check out, the look on his face screamed that he was just as shocked.

It was nearly midnight when the three of you had finally worked together to finish tossing out the old mattress and frame, building the new one, and adding the finishing touches to your new ambiance. 

Stood at the foot of the bed, you all looked at it proudly. “Good job everyone. Good team work,” you nod your head and cross your arms over your shoulders, hearing your boyfriends high five behind your back.

Jisung yawned, “fuck, I’m fucking tired,” and hopped into the middle of the bed.

“Get off, you’re still in your outside clothes!” Minho scolded him but made no effort to remove the blonde.

“Make me,” Jisung smirked and raised an eyebrow, tucking his arms beneath his head.

You and Minho look at each other, reading each other's mind scarily in sync before coming after Jisung together. The blonde laughed as the two of you helped one another strip him, not bothering being gentle, “hey! This isn’t what I meant! I thought– ouch, Y/N! Watch the balls! Why are you always crushing my nuts?!”

Soon enough, you had Jisung with his naked back pressed to your chest with your other boyfriend kissing his way down. Your only job was to hold him down– for now. He shivered in your grasp with goosebumps covering the expanse of his skin. Minho looked up at the two of you through his bangs, big dark eyes starry and eager to please. It was a miracle Jisung wasn’t fighting back and was taking every command you gave, a nice change of pace. You enjoyed how well he listened, and Minho didn’t seem to mind taking orders from you, either.

“Sit still, baby. You asked for this. Take it like a champ. Or pussy out, it doesn’t matter to me. But,” Jisung whined before you could finish, clearly not liking your passive attitude. “I think our Min would be so disappointed if you didn’t let him play. After all, he did just buy you such an expensive gift. Isn’t that right, pretty kitty?”

The older smiled into the honey skin of Jisung’s inner thigh, paying no attention to how hard and twitching his cock was just centimeters away. “Mhm, it’d make me so sad,” Minho said softly as he paid as much attention to the other limb. Jisung fought your hold to thread through the brunette’s hair, not very hard, but enough to have to wrap your hand around his throat from behind.

“What’d I say? He hasn’t even touched you yet, don’t be a brat.”

As your fingers gripped tighter, “nah, that’s your job, pup.”

You squeezed tightly and tugged him slightly side ways so you cold peer over his shoulder, “that’s fucking right. You couldn’t handle what I could put you through if things were the other way around.”

Both of them were shocked at what was coming out of your mouth, Jisung’s jaw dropping into a stutter and Minho teething his pelvis to keep from laughing obnoxiously for doing what he never could– speak back.

“T– that’s not true,” his tone was already willing to give up that fight.

“You can’t even do this one thing, baby. Trust me, take what’s in front of you while you’ve got it,” the whisper of your voice made him shiver again and fall pliant against your body.

Spreading your legs, Jisung sat back more comfortably, visibly succumbing to the new role he was playing. Minho continued to watch your eyes as he touched the blonde everywhere but his cock, pinching his calves, biting his lower belly, licking stripes up and down his thighs until you finally nodded and singled for him to continue further.

Minho only stuck the tip of his tongue out to nudge at Jisung’s leaking red tip and the blonde threw his head back against your shoulder. One hand around his neck, you slithered the other to his nipple, hardly brushing over the already pebbled nub. Minho kept going, licking fatter and wetter strides of the muscle against the underside of Jisung’s dick, not caring for how much the younger mewled for more.

Minho was only listening to you tonight, and you had to admit the power was kinda getting to  your head. You let him do nothing but lick at the other like a popsicle until he was drooling to have something heavier in his mouth. Only when he reached out to place a hand on your shin did you nod again, and Minho took the entire length in one go.

Jisung struggled to not buck his hips up, tummy contracting and muscles flexing so tight you thought he wasn’t breathing.

“Watch him, baby. Watch him make you feel good. You want to repay him, don’t you? I thought you said you weren’t a brat. It’d be the kind thing to do.” Jisung grabbed onto your forearm that held his throat and continued to moan.

You’d always heard of phantom limb and how it was a true medical diagnosis, however you have all your home-grown appendages. Watching the way Minho slurped and sucked Jisung’s cock made your own core painfully throb like you could feel him taking you in his mouth, as well. You just knew it must be so warm, so slick and plush, you couldn’t even blame Jisung for not being able to do as you asked as you were having a hard time not touching yourself, too.

God, Minho looked so sexy with a dick in his mouth, more specifically Jisung’s pretty, pretty dick. The younger’s wonderfully built body was a sight for sore eyes, well defined abs on display like a washboard you imagined to be like your own. In no way are you displeased with your body, but it never hurts to fantasize. After all, you’re the only part of this throuple without a third leg, and you know Jisung would find it flattering that you used him to get off like this. You weren’t even really getting off, more like storing away some spank bank for later.

Your finger circled Jisung’s nipple a little harder, pinching when he got too rowdy and threatened to toss Minho off. The brunette took every instruction with a sly smirk, doing some of his best work without an inkling of punishment lingering over his shoulder.

Don’t get him wrong, Minho does things on purpose to get punished, you figured that out pretty quickly. But with you holding the reigns, he had no worries whatsoever. He was slobbering like a dog on Jisung’s cock, so messy you could see the glistening of mixed saliva and precum all over the lower half of his face. He used both hands to hold the other down as he deepthroated him, gagging and holding for as long as he could. Fuck, you felt that one right in your clit, sending shocks all throughout your body.

“Doesn’t he look so hot? Be polite, baby, tell him how he’s making you feel,” you say loud enough for them to hear you, simultaneously switching hands to play with his other nipple.

“Good– so good, fuck– wanna cum. Can I? Can I cum?” He was so whiney and voice so small, like he was scared you’d say no.

You looked to Minho, “what do you think kitty? Is baby allowed to cum?”

The brunette released his cock with a pop and a deep breath, “hmm… No.”

Jisung let out a loud, pained sob. “Y– you’re gonna regret that when I–”

“When you what? When we let you go? What makes you so sure we’re ever gonna do that?” Another whimper from Jisung and an approving nod, a muffled chuckle from a mouth full of cock from Minho. “Where did your manners go, baby? You haven’t even thanked our kitty for treating you like the little whore you are. You’re gonna make him think you just want his money.” Jisung quickly shook his head no in protest.

“Right, kitty? Is he just your sugar baby? Taking your money like you owe it to him?” Your stare down at Minho made him groan as well, grinding his hips into your brand new and freshly washed comforter.

“I don’t know, he hasn’t even thanked me.”

You all knew what you were saying wasn’t true, but it got both Jisung and Minho worked even further up. You had to tighten your grip on Jisung’s neck to the point where he was digging his nails into your skin to make him sit still. “You’re being rude, baby. I didn’t teach you that. Thank kitty for treating you so well.”

He tried, he really did, but could emit nothing but louder, more unfiltered moans. Honestly it made you proud, Minho was doing such a good job. But Jisung’s lesson was prioritized over the other’s praise for the time being, you’ll make sure to tell him after.

Minho worked faster taking him in deeper, bobbing up and down at a pace that would’ve strained your neck. But fuck was it making you so close to cumming just being able to watch, you weren’t even sure how Jisung has lasted this long. If you had a cock, you would’ve blown the second he took you in his mouth.

“It’s just three words, you can do it. ‘Thank you, kitty.’ Say it and maybe you can cum.”

You and Minho made eye contact again and he nodded briefly in agreement. Jisung was getting antsier and less responsive,you tweaked his nipple to get him to open his mouth.

“Th– thank you, kitty.” He said it like he was learning to speak for the first time.

“Cum.”

Minho moaned onto Jisung’s cock as the younger turned his head towards you, “kiss! Kiss me– Fuck, ‘m gonna cum– kiss–”

Jisung reached back to lock his fingers in your hair and tug you into a breathless kiss, absorbing every one of his whimpers as he bucked into the brunette’s mouth. It felt like it was you who was cumming hearing and feeling Jisung writhe in your arms, like you could feel yourself shooting hot white cum down Minho’s throat and feeling him attempt to swallow it with you still stuffing his mouth full. You needed the kiss just as badly, the only thing that could possibly ground you after another intense case of phantom dick.

Jisung let you go once he calmed down, falling entirely limp against your chest. Minho sat up, a clear wet stain at the front of his pants making you smile as he shuffled over to you and took your chin between his thumb and forefinger. He opened his mouth and showed you the pool of white fluid, pulling you in for a more graceful, just as sloppy kiss. His tongue pushed the cum past your lips and you could feel it drip down the corners of your mouth, running down your chin and neck. Tangy, salty, but somehow hints of sweet in the aftertaste as you broke the kiss and swallowed.

When you looked back at the blonde, he was watching the two of you with another longing gaze, he wanted in on the action. Minho placed a chaste, cum smeared kiss to his lips, then you bent over for one as well. Despite the sliminess, it was a heartfelt kiss, one that made the three of you giggle as you realized that Jisung was the only one naked but not the only one that came.

“What a way to christen the new bed,” you joked softly, nodding your head at the stain on Minho’s pants.

Minho simply laughed and swiped the tiniest bit of cum still on the corner of his lip, licking it off his finger like lingering dessert. “I think I like the new bed,” he hummed delightedly.

“All this newfound leg room and you both still decide on pinning me down in one spot.”

“Don’t be mad. You said make you, and we made you.” You reach for the box of tissues on the bedside table, handing one to them and wiping your faces semi clean.

Jisung shifted, rubbing his back against your pants and sitting up. “Wait… You’re both in outside clothes on the new bed.”

It was silent for a moment as you and Minho made eye contact. He beat you to the punch with a valid excuse, “I paid for it.”

Jisung narrowed his gaze up at you and you blanked. “I… I got nothing.”

The blonde sat up, scooting next to Minho and leaning his head on his shoulder. “Pretty kitty, I think our puppy got ahead of herself, and I don’t think we’ve broken in the bed enough yet. What were you saying about manners?”

☆ﾟ

A/M: god this took me so fucking long to update i’m so sorry

tags: @sensitiveandhungry @babebatter @changbinluvr @epiphanynaffit @fawnpeaks @linovely @dumplinbokkieracha @finnydraws @naturules @djeniryuu @hamburgers101 @skzhomiehopper @yesv01 @hyunjinsamdl @dazzlingligth @lvrhyuk @alexis-reads-fics @linaliskz @0002linoskitten @chillichillicrabcrab23 @zerefdragn33l @straycrescent @binnies-donuts @soldierstangirl-blog @bakedlilgoonie @levanterlily @shelbyyy44 @yeetmehome @in2heartz @astroodledream @the-sweetest-rose @goblinracha @lilbugs-things @viviennenstan @staurdvst @alex--awesome--22 @imzenning @jeyelleohe @iadorethemskz @skyvastbunny @mamabymychem @katsukis1wife @woozarts @noellllslut

[shadowspromise]

Minecraft With Dabi

I’ve been playing a shitton of Minecraft lately. It’s been nine years since I first started playing and I never get bored of it. But it would be… so much more fun with Touya.

☆彡 You’d think that Touya would be the one venturing into the mines to get ores and kill mobs, but he’s actually the one building the house.

“No, fuck off, I’m building it. This bitch is gonna be a mansion.”

☆彡 He laughs every time you die, but when he does he whines and wants your consolation.

☆彡 He loved the nether update because of the soul fire. It’s blue! This is the only occasion where Touya will leave the house and step forth into the nether, just to collect the materials to decorate the whole house in soul fire.

“Oh yeah. You can tell I live here. Damn straight.”

☆彡He has the strangest aversion to villagers. He’ll be looking for more materials for the house and he’ll stumble across a village. Across the room, you wonder what on Earth he could he swearing about. It’s a villager.

“Ugly ass bitch. The fuck are you looking at? Eat shit.”

☆彡 The only good thing about those villages? The cats! You ask him to go to the village to trade for some materials and he comes back with four cats. They keep sitting on your chests and furnaces and it’s a teeny bit annoying.

“The orange one is Timothy. That one’s Binky. Those two are both named George because why the fuck not. We don’t got any nametags so you better have good memory, doll.”

☆彡 Your beds are next to each other. The most peak form of romance there is. He’s dyed them cyan to match his eye color because he knows you love it. There’s pots with poppy flowers next to them, and in front, a window with a perfect view of the sunset.

☆彡 Any plans you had on killing the ender dragon or wither are getting thrown out the aforementioned window. Touya insists that you’ll end up dying and losing all of your good gear that you worked so hard for, and why beat the bosses when instead you could decorate the house with him?

☆彡 This poor boy is so unbelievably bad at parkour. Hell, he can’t make one-block jumps most of the time. He doesn’t have the best hand-eye coordination when it comes to video games, but still… he’s so… trash at it.

☆彡 He genuinely has a fear of creepers. There are torches scattered inside and out the house because he doesn’t even want to see one of those creatures. There are very, very few times you’ll ever hear Touya yelp in surprise. Most of those times are due to creepers. He’ll be placing down carpets and in the corner of his eye he sees a creeper outside the window… his mouse is on the floor and he accidentally bit his tongue.

☆彡 He’s just the sweetest boy ever. As a reward for doing all the mining, he drops you multiple! stacks! of flowers! There’s an abundance, so many you need separate chests for them. He doesn’t just gift you flowers either. A nice shiny emerald he “found” after verbally assaulting a villager? All yours. A golden apple he found in a desert temple? Just for you. Although you do have to praise him for being so brave and going to that desert temple all by himself. That gets his imaginary tail wagging.

☆彡 He always makes sure to repair your armor and tools. If you put down your gear so you have inventory room for something else, he’s secretly taking them and repairing them, sometimes he even has enough experience saved up to enchant them. It’s always a nice surprise to see the glowing purple on your gear and a smile on Touya’s face.

☆彡 So much swearing. He fell off the roof? “Fucking bullshit, I was crouching!” He can’t find one of his cats? “Where is that little shithead?” There’s a zombie in the house? “Motherfucker, get out of here! Babe, help! There’s a shithead in the storage room!”

☆彡 He thinks of armor as like wearing shoes in the house. When you come home from mining he makes you put your armor onto a stand.

☆彡He makes sure you’re home every night so you can watch the sunset together.

[far-too-many-things]

@untrainedpoetry are you seeing this????

WHY DID NO ONE TELL ME THERES A CYAN HEART EMOJI NOW 🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵 ARE YOU SEEING THIS 🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵LOOK🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

[24kaicy]

Headcannons

I think David color blind and no one notices. Sam knew cause David look at a green vegetable and said it was cyan color.

Darlin is deaf and when they don't wear there hearing aids. They closed their eyes so they don't listen to people.

David ,Sam ,babe ,honey and lasko has astigmatism. Lasko has it the worst.

David, Sam, lasko, and guy needs glasses. Guy wears contacts and honey was thrown off by seeing guy with his glasses.

David, Asher , Milo and tank got their first ear piercings together.

Milo is reason David knows how to his hair when it's natural.

[phoenixfl3009]

Decided to do a warm up by writing a fun little “Fizzarozzie first kiss” scenario 💋💙💚

- - -

Fizz was understandably nervous.

Sweat beaded along his pasty white temple as he stared headlong into what remained of his breakfast. A single raspberry adorned his plate, desolate and destitute amidst a sea of syrup. With a dour frown, he continued to poke and prod and press at the glistening red berry with the end of an ornate-looking fork, trying vainly to suppress a shout of frustration at the maddening flutter of wings inside his lower stomach.

Do it, he thought. Just rip the band-aid off.

Naturally, predictably, Fizz remained as still as stone; his metallic fingertips a vice over the ivory utensil.

At his side, a discontented hum could be heard, followed by the familiar crinkling of paper. “Another gala?” Asmodeus intoned wryly, incredulity and exasperation weighing in equal measure as he regarded the news article. “Didn’t Luci just hold one’a these last week?”

“Actually, it was three days ago.” Fizz answered, surprising even himself as the words poured freely from his mouth, unbidden. He vehemently tamped down on the urge to slap a hand over his own mouth and instead settled for reaching across the length of the table for the pitcher of coffee, only too eager to drown his anxieties beneath the brunt weight of caffeine. He swallowed greedily, even as the ebony liquid scalded his tongue.

Fortunately, Ozzie didn’t appear to notice, having been too engrossed in his own thoughts to notice how skittish his jester was behaving. The chimera uttered a disbelieving scoff and proceeded to set the article aflame with a plume of cyan-imbued heat. “Yeah, that tracks. Knowing him, he’s probably using it as an excuse to celebrate his marriage, like always.” Ozzie conceded with a sigh. He brought his chin to rest in the center of a colossal palm and seemed to stare listlessly into space. “I can’t say I blame him. If I had someone like Lilith, I don’t think I could resist bragging neither.”

Fizz nearly choked on his mouthful. Nearly. Miraculously, he managed to save face and swallowed past the burning itch that had taken root in his throat.

Then, Asmodeus turned and offered Fizz a devilish grin. “What do you think,” He drawled in a tone as sweet and as spellbindingly heady as mead, drawing his index along the scope of Fizz’s spine. “My queen?”

This time around, Fizz does, indeed, choke spectacularly. His throat constricted tightly mid-swallow, lending the sensation that he was being drowned before he inevitably proceeded to hack his lungs up.

Satan’s balls, why refer to him as that, of all things? Of all days?

This was arguably not how Fizz imagined any of this would go; he was fucking this up left, right, and center.

A hand found purchase along the line of his back, the fingers drawing soothing circles as Asmodeus crooned softly. “Take it easy, babe. That’s it, breathe slowly,” He instructed as Fizz struggled to steady his breathing. Ozzie frowned, his features rife with concern as he regarded the red-faced imp. “You feeling okay? You’re usually not so jumpy.”

Despite himself, Fizz feigned a toothy grin. “I’m fine! Just, uh, a tickle in my throat.” He played it off with a wave of his hand, wondering if perhaps there was any conceivable way he could possibly salvage the situation. He had been thinking about this moment for so long already, and he feared if he waited any longer, the opportunity would pass him by completely and he would never have another chance, ever. It was inevitable, after all; how long could the Sin of Lust allow himself to be limited to just one demon? Really, it was a miracle Ozzie hadn’t grown tired of him after the first month, let alone three months.

Despite his assurance, Ozzie remained nonplussed and continued to look to Fizz imploringly. “Is there anything I can do to make it better?” The Sin inquired, sounding so genuine and so sincere, Fizz’s heart seized momentarily and the butterflies that had taken root inside of him tripled in their efforts; every velvety pass of their wingtips sending shivers throughout his entire body.

Fizz didn’t know what compelled him to speak, but when he did, the words felt foreign on his tongue, as if they weren’t entirely his own. “You could kiss it better,” He said, his voice ringing clearly in his ears.

He wasn’t sure what he expected. Dismissal and flat-out rejection being the two most obvious contenders, followed by pity, disgust, and disbelief. Asmodeus represented lust in its purest form; wild, unkempt, and untamed, and while kissing could be construed as lustful to some, for Asmodeus, it was tantamount to blasphemy. He didn’t kiss anyone, ever, and no one was permitted to kiss him. It simply wasn’t done.

Fizz knew that, had known that since the beginning of this arrangement, and yet, had the absolute gall to voice his request anyways, knowing full well that if it backfired, he could very well lose what he had with Ozzie in the here and now.

He continued to wait with bated breath, anticipating only the worst as Ozzie continued to stare coolly at him. Neither the ram nor the bull betrayed him, each having adopted a surprisingly neutral expression as Ozzie mulled it over. Then, with a slight incline of his head, he said, simply, “Okay.”

Fizz blinked, mouth agape, his mind racing a mile a minute as it struggled to process what the other had said when suddenly, he felt a mouth being pressed against his own.

Despite the stark difference in size and height, Ozzie’s mouth slotted perfectly with Fizz’s own. His beak was smooth to the touch and inexplicably warm, sending waves of molten heat throughout his entire body. He couldn’t help but compare the sensation to that of the circus, except unlike those flames that had only sought to inflict pain and suffering, these flames were gentle and kind and promised only safety and security.

It was heavenly.

It was otherworldly.

It was everything.

The kiss seemed to span lifetimes, and at the same time, mere seconds, ending far, far sooner than Fizz would have liked. His mind swam and a pleasant buzz entered his lips as he contemplated just how and why Ozzie would think to do something as wildly out of character as kiss him without wanting anything in return, sexually or otherwise.

The answer, astonishingly, came from none other than Ozzie.

The Sin smiled warmly at him, the expression reflected neatly across all three heads as he continued to gaze at Fizz as though he was the most precious thing in the entire world—as though he was Ozzie’s entire world. “Whatever my queen desires.”

[counterturn]

SHE HAS A NAME AND IT'S CYAN YOU FOOLS!

[mushibashiraas]

warning(s): they/them pronouns, bisexual rindou, spirals, depression, self-harm/“picking at the skin on their fingertips again,” mentions of cheating, rin being a d¡ck (but only bc he met reader in a weird, awkward situation), hair pulling, the occasional swear word, waist-specifications, reader has a ton of stuffed animals/plushies, suggestive comments (2 references towards the end), and affectionate nicknames.

“hey, rin....?” they hesitantly ask their boyfriend of two years, eyes darting around every which way but at him. they've started picking at the skin on their fingertips again, he notices.

rindou mutes his gaming mic and turns his chair around. “yeah, baby?” sliding his headphones off of his ears with one hand, he reaches out with the other hand and pulls them towards him until they end up between his legs. wrapping an arm around their small, — as he calls it — “cute” waist he pulls them closer until they almost fall on top of him.

getting the message, they straddle rindou and reach up into his messy blonde streaks distracting their fingers with the lines of bright, cyan-blue running through them.

they don't want to seem angry at rin for this because gods above! they could never be angry at him. their angel. their rock. their peter parker or miles morales. he's always looking out for them. always putting them first before his own needs. they think — no... they know that he'd drop the entire world if they asked him too.

but at the same time.... they just love waking up to his soft features in the morning on the rare occasion when they wake up first. they love when they go to bed and the last thing they see at night is rindou, purple eyes softening and gazing at them as if they hung the stars in his sky. his face relaxing as his eyelids slowly droop trying to and failing to fight off the god hypnos' spell.

so then why? why does he turn around on some nights? or what about those other nights where he'll join them in bed late after staying up playing with his old gang friends and he crawls in behind them and snuggles them in his sleep. he doesn't bother turning them around to face him and kiss his cute nose goodnight. did they say something or do something? did their relationship change? does he not love them? is he cheating on them with someone else? perhaps someone physically and mentally stronger than them caught his eye at the club the other night when they turned him down to join him and ran. he'd be better off with them than they're sorry ass—

a harsh tug on their hair rips a sharp whine from their throat. “what the hell, rin?! what was that for?” they pull away from him and glare at him one hand reaching up behind their head where rindou had just yanked.

“i've been talkin’ to ya this whole time, babe.” he doesn't look mad or annoyed but he certainly looks worried. “you know you've been talkin’ this whole time, yeah? and i've been trying to tell you something and explain to you why i've been sleeping with my back to you or sleeping on the other side of the bed. but you've been spiralling so deep in your thoughts that you didn't hear a word i said. calm down, ok?” compared to the rough tug he gave their hair earlier, he gently cups their face in his rough hands, thumbs rubbing soothing circles on their cheeks. “sorry for pulling your hair like that, hon’. but you were really gone; had me worried there!” he gives them a quick cheeky smile and pecks their forehead. “i was worried because i care about you. i like the feeling of being able to protect someone else dear to me besides my own brother. he's older than me so i don't get that feeling very often. but when i met you and you clung to to me when you passed out and came to that one time, i wanted to feel that sensation again. that pride of and happiness of being a person that someone can rely on. i know it was an accident but still... ‘twas nice.”

“....oh....” they suddenly felt so embarrassed and so ashamed, even though deep down they knew they had nothing to be ashamed about. rindou's their boyfriend. he's one of the few people in their life that has stuck around. the man they've secretly daydreamed of marrying. he's seen them naked. seen them in tears. seen them angry. rindou's caught them in every possible vulnerable state they could ever be in and he never let them down. never gave up on them. never walked away. why would he...? why would.... he.... “why would you stay with me? you've seen every side of me since then. like i said, i am sure there are others out there who aren't as fucked up as me. who are far healthier than i am and can accompany you more often to your club at night with your brother and friends. i don't hold you back; you've said that so that's not the issue here. but.... i want to know why, in a sea of people, you would still choose me.” by now they had started sobbing, face buried in his t-shirt, tattooed arms wrapped firmly around their waist, their own hands balled into fists clutching onto him for dear life as if he'd disappear otherwise.

“babe,” he pressed a kiss to the top of your head, big, warm, calloused hands slowly rubbing their back. “i choose you over any other healthy guy or girl because i've seen your determination and persistance through everything you've gone through. the only people i've seen with that much determination were that hanagaki guy and toman's leader. but they're different from you; you've remained selfless and compassionate to everyone, no matter what. always the open-minded one trying to see someone's perspective or situation from their end. you're one of the last people to judge others. not gonna lie, i thought it was pretty naive at first. figured you'd be — and saw it often — walked all over a lot. but you never let that keep you down for long.”

they huffed. pouting they also grumbled back, “sure seems long....”

he made a sound like a game show buzzer going off because a contestant ran out of time or got the answer wrong. “incorrect answer, my love. it seemed long but it was always only temporary. things always changed for the better. if things in the world never changed for the better then it would've imploded a long time ago. anyway,” he moves his hands from their back to their shoulders and raises them to look him in the eye.

“anyway,” he says again, “babe, you always say that one of your traits is that you're stubborn as hell. well, ever think that your stubborness applies here too? you're so stubborn and determined to not let people's opinions of you cloud your outlook on life. you've seen and experienced so much that you don't wish to see others go through the same hardships as you. so you give back to others as much as you can. that's pretty cool, y’know? you're cool, babe! the coolest! we can be cool together: you, me, and ran — you laughed! that made you laugh!” rin cheered and giddily kissed their tears away. “but!” he abruptly leaned back all of a sudden. “he can only join our cool squad only because i know he'd be offended at never let me live it down that i don't think he's cool enough to join.” he rolls his eyes at the audacity of how far his brother would go with his dramatics. “it's a wonder *aniki's not an actor with how dramatic he can be sometimes.”

taking a few tissues from the box sitting on rin's desk, they dried their eyes, cleaned their face and blew their nose. “i mean, he did say he's always wanted to be a celebrity. so basically he's living the ‘actor’ life anyway, isn't he?”

taking a clean tissue from them he patted their cheeks dry and chuckled, “true. even if it is my club he's still a celebrity by association. anyway, you good now, babe? baby? my love? my angel? my sweet thing? dollfhmph?” he playfully glared at his ��dollface” as they clapped a hand over his mouth. “don't like that last one, baby? ‘s’not what you said last night while i was—”

“you finish that sentence and you'll sleep on the couch!” they playfully retorted back. “besides, you never answered my question about why you've been sleeping with your back to me or why you've been sleeping on the other side of the bed lately.”

“you've got enough stuffed animals. i want to be your stuffed plushie that you hold at night and cuddle with.” the instant rindou pouted and crossed his arms over his chest, they knew he was partly messing with them still to cheer them up. “but in all seriousness,” he relaxed his posture and returned to cleaning them up and fixing their hair. “in all seriousness, baby, when i crawl in behind you after i log off from my game i just like the feeling of your back pressed to my chest as i wrap my arms around you. i also love it when you subconsciously hold onto my own arms when i do that. it's cute!” leaning in, he rests his forehead against theirs and watches and feels as they slowly get more and more flustered. “you know what else is cute?”

“wh-what....?” they stutter, barely able to maintain eye contact with him with how intensely his gaze on them was.

“i also adore how flustered you get — even though we've been dating for two years and have been friends for three — whenever i go to kiss you or whenever i undress you. it makes my heart swell every time i see you trying to look away from me. it only makes me want to kiss you more, y’know? and i think that's exactly what i'll do.” tilting his head to the side rindou gives their lips one peck. two. three.

throwing his headphones onto his chair, he stands up and hoists them over his hips as he effortlessly carries them to the bed. between each deep, hungry, breathless kiss he mutters lowly against their lips high praise after high praise while also promising to show them in slow, agonizing detail why he would never leave and always choose them every time.

note. ....did i grab my own face in my own hands to figure out how rin would hold it and where he'd massage on my face with his thumbs.....? .......yes...... no....... hhhh ABSOLUTELY! fine. lol listen. artists aren't the only ones who do "weird" shit lol

also feel free to listen to 13Aurora's “can't catch me now” slowed + reverb cover on while you read this iyw. i had it on loop while i wrote this aaa tho tbh i was looping it all day

aaaaaa seasonal depression has been kicking me in the ass on top of my symptomatic depression (thanks, migraines). so i've been spiralling a lot lately. and when i spiral,, i wrote rindou comfort lol a bit prouder of this compared to my last rindou comfort (that one is still in my drafts tho. ew!). i like the ending more in this one than the last one!! it flows better, i hope, what with all the kissing and loving and suggestive writing~ oooo *squirms in my seat* i adore final timeline rindou so so much — almost as much as bonten arc rindou hahah!! gamer!rindou also has my whole heart and soul too so i had to include that as well as rin's beloved older brother whom i also adore.

(are rin's gaming friends waiting for him to come back and help them defeat the boss with them....? uhh,,,,,,,,, *stares at rin's afk character* yes!)

*ALSO! “aniki” means older bro or big bro or older brother in japanese slang

[naavispider]

ALTERNATIVE, EVEN SILLIER PROMPT

Spider’s shoulder dislocated and he’s never experienced that before so he’s just hyperventilating, wondering why his arm is flailing around while Quaritch has to calm him down and pop it back into place.

This took me a while babes but here we are eventually 💞 Sorry it took me long 🤗

It was going to shit. You didn’t need to be a rocket scientist to see that. Fike’s attempt at wrangling an ikran had been going disastrously since he started, and although Spider had enjoyed watching the recom dodge the animal’s sharp beak in an attempt not to get his head bitten off, even he was starting to worry that the situation was fast approaching out-of-control.

Quaritch had already tamed his banshee, and was watching intently from the sky. Mansk had gone next, followed by Zdinarsk, but the majority of the group remained on the ground, shouting encouragement and advice from their vantage points.

Fike had seemed nervous from the start. It was clear, now, that he was struggling. The fourth member of project Phoenix had chosen a cyan blue male with green field marks - the kind of green Spider had seen in the aurora to the North. It was a beautiful ikran, but fierce. And Fike wasn’t prepared.

The recom was on the ground, pinned underneath his beast, who was snapping his beak trying to tear Fike’s head off.

“Watch it!” Prager shouted from beside Spider, who flinched when the animal lunged for Fike’s head again, this time managing to snap his ear. Fike let out a roar of pain as blood gushed from the place his ear used to be.

Behind him, Spider heard the sound of Wainfleet loading up the gun that Quaritch had wanted to use. No way in hell, thought Spider. Bonding with any creature on Pandora was a sacred act, and to do so with some kind of artificial aid felt like a violation.

Without thinking, Spider jumped forward, entering the match to help Fike. He didn’t want the recom to succeed, but he had to stop Wainfleet from shooting the ikran. “Stop!” he shouted as he lunged over a rock and put his hands up to the animal, exposed.

The ikran paused its attack on Fike just long enough to stare at Spider in surprise. Fike was dangling dangerously close to the cliff’s edge, and any wrong move would send them both over.

“Easy there,” Spider murmured to the animal, not looking her in the eye. He knew how stupid this was. Unlike the Na’vi, he couldn’t simply bond with the creature if it decided to attack. No ikran had ever tried to hurt him in the past, but that’s because he gave them space and never interrupted a fight. Nothing could save him if the banshee attacked.

“Kid, what are you doing!”

“Spider!”

“Get back HERE!”

He ignored the various voices and took another tentative step closer to the ikran. “Easy, boy,” he continued, hoping that Fike could get his act together soon and make the bond.

With a grunt of pain, Fike wriggled out from the ikran’s belly. The animal realised almost immediately and raised a sharp talon to slash down through Fike’s arm. Spider heard Fike’s grunt at the same time as Wainfleet yelled at him. “Get DOWN!”

Knowing he was in Wainfleet’s line of fire, Spider jumped to the side, hoping to distract the ikran just long enough for Fike to clamber on top.

That turned out to be incredibly stupid.

The ikran screeched furiously at him, turning its attention from the injured recom to Spider, giving Spider just a second to brace himself before the animal swiped him with a huge talon, the force of it sending him back several strides. He landed disastrously on the hard rock and cried out in pain as he realised something was extremely wrong with his arm.

He looked up, expecting the ikran advancing on him to be his final sight. What he actually saw was Fike finally pulling himself together enough to leap onto the animal’s back, grabbing his kuru and plunging it next to the ikran’s.

Once he was sure the pair were bonded and the situation was under control, Spider threw his head back and allowed the pain in his shoulder to consume him. He tried to push himself up into sitting, but could only use his left arm to support himself.

“Fuck!” he cried, clutching his right arm. This did nothing to ease the pain - in fact it made it worse. He’d never felt something like this before, and it scared him. He’d broken his arm once, and that was nowhere near as bad as this.

Before he knew it, Prager was by his side, along with Ja and Wainfleet. “What happened?” demanded Quaritch over the comms.

Prager’s hands were gently trying to manoeuvre Spider's right arm into a more comfortable position, while a focused expression clouded his face. “It’s dislocated,” he muttered. Wainfleet relayed the information over the comms and within moments the squad leader had landed, all thoughts of Fike’s battle to the death long over.

“Is that bad?” Spider asked through clenched teeth, trying anything he could to not cry from the agony. He couldn’t move his right arm at all, and his shoulder felt like it had simply been blown off.

“It’s not fun,” the medic responded, “but we can fix it quickly.”

Spider was mainly focused on keeping his breathing steady, so he tuned out the rest of the conversation. Wainfleet and Ja had left at some point, presumably to go check on Fike if he had landed yet.

Despite the pain, Spider reminded himself that at least his ear hadn’t just been torn off.

“-don’t carry any human-“

“-fuck him up?”

Spider looked up at this alarming exchange, glancing between Prager and Quaritch. “What’s going on?” he demanded, but it came out as a very half hearted groan.

Quaritch looked at Prager, who was the one to explain. “I can pop your shoulder back in, no problem. But it’s gonna be… painful. I’ve only got recombinant painkillers.”

“Is it safe?” Spider asked.

“It’s never really been tested before. Theoretically, there’s nothing toxic in the gas and air. But it’s around seven times stronger for recoms.”

“Gas and air?” Quaritch interrupted. “How’s that gonna work with his mask?”

“I can hook it up,” Prager responded simply.

Spider groaned, his shoulder choosing that moment to throb especially hard.

“It’s up to you, boss.”

“No," Spider winced before Quaritch had a chance to reply. "Give it to me.”

“Are you sure?” the squad leader asked, looking uncertain.

Spider nodded. He was big for a human - he could take it.

Prager took off his back and started to rummage for the equipment while Quaritch took over holding Spider’s arm in place. “Small breaths,” Quaritch murmured, and somewhere deep inside Spider did an internal eye roll that his genocidal father’s clone was giving him tips on pain management.

As if Spider didn’t know how to deal with pain.

“Okay kid, in a second I’m gonna plug the medicine into your exopack. It will only take a few seconds to diffuse and you’ll start to feel it.” Spider wanted to tell the medic to just hurry up already. “Then I’ll pop your arm back into place nice and easy. Just keep breathing steadily. You ready?”

Spider looked at him before nodding. Prager fiddled with the exopack on Spider’s back, which in itself felt vulnerable. Before he had time to dwell on this though, a strange smell permeated his mask. He breathed in deeply, and was hit with a wave of dizziness. Woah. Whatever the hell that was, it was fucking strong.

“Fuck,” he cussed as he closed his eyes and leaned backwards, afraid he was gonna pass out. Arms caught him from behind, adjusting him to a certain sitting position. He could feel Prager’s hands on his elbow and shoulder, but the pain was muted, as if it was waving at him from across an ocean.

“Clench your teeth and don't bite your tongue. You hear me, Spider? Just relax,” Prager instructed, and Spider tried to focus on the words, although it took him a while to process that simple instruction. Relax? Relax? When he was captured by the enemy and having to rely on the murderous RDA for medical aid? “You’re crazy,” Spider slurred with a smirk. He should be scared of them, but he wasn’t. “You’re… delusional…”

No one replied to him - at least, he couldn’t hear them if they did, because all of a sudden his elbow was jerked into a new position, sending a muted wave of pain over his skin like goosebumps. “OW!” He protested angrily. He couldn’t remember why Prager was hurting him. He couldn’t remember why he was here. He didn’t think he could even recall his name.

“All done,” Quaritch said awkwardly.

“Wwhat’ss done?”

“Your arm’s back to normal.”

Prager was watching him carefully.

Spider frowned. “What happened to m’arm?”

Prager raised an eyebrow, which was entirely unhelpful, so Spider turned to Quaritch. This was equally disappointing because Quaritch looked constipated.

This only heightened Spider’s anxiety. What had happened? It must be bad. “Did it fall off?”

“Just stay still while I wrap it,” responded Prager. The medic proceeded to create some sort of sling for Spider’s arm, but Spider wasn’t paying attention. He was more focused on the strange pink patches of skin that interrupted his natural blue.

How bizarre. Suddenly, it seemed hilarious. Why did he have pink skin when he was from Pandora? Nobody else did.

He couldn’t help the burst of laughter that escaped him. He tried to stop it but it came out more of a raspberry and spit sprayed the inside of his mask. “Why’s m’skin PINK?!” he cackled, finding it difficult not to wheeze in hysterics. “Hey… HEY! Do you see it?”

Quaritch didn’t look half as amused as Spider felt. His face was set in a sour expression and even Prager looked a little concerned. What had gotten into them? “It’s pink…!”

“Okay, try and keep your arm still okay, Spider?” Prager said.

“My arm?”

Prager nodded. “You’ll need to wear the sling for the rest of today to help with the tenderness.”

“What’s wrong with my arm?” he asked in worry.

“It’s fine, Spider. You just dislocated it.”

“Dis…?” He looked down at his left arm and brought it up to his face. “It’s fine!”

Quaritch sighed. “The other one. No! Don’t try to move that one…”

Spider looked down and was surprised to find his right arm was secured to his chest in a folded piece of white material. There was a large knot at the back of his neck. “What’sss that?”

“It’s a sling. It will keep your arm still while the shoulder heals.”

“My arm? What happened to my arm?!”

Instead of being helpful and explaining what had happened to his poor arm, Quaritch’s face twitched slightly.

“Aaaand that’s enough of that,” Prager said, fiddling with a tube that was connected to Spider’s exopack.

“Hey! Get off, you’ll choke me!”

“Shh, kid, it’s okay,” Quaritch tried to console him. But Spider knew he couldn’t trust this man. He couldn’t remember exactly why, but he knew he was bad.

“Do you even remember my name?” Prager asked, looking bemused as he sat back to pack away the medkit.

Spider frowned. “Why would I not remember y’name? I don’t have brain damage.”

“Then what is it?”

He knew this. He knew it. Wait… why did he not know it? “I don’t want say,” he whispered conspiratorially, as if spies were lurking nearby. “Anyone could be listening.”

Prager gave Quaritch a knowing glance, complete with a half smirk. It made Spider feel like he was being left out of a joke. “What’s funny?”

“Nothing, kid. Who’s listening?”

Spider glanced around nervously before replying in a hushed voice. “The demons.”

He heard a snort of laughter from somewhere, and looked up to see Wainfleet and Mansk had come back over to see what all the fuss was about.

“Shhh!” he told them irritatedly.

“Yeah, keep your voices down guys. The demons are listening…”

Wainfleet was the most thoughtful, being considerate enough to glance around and check if there were any nearby. "Shit, sorry Spider! Can you tell me what they look like so I can spot them?"

Spider's brow furrowed in confusion. What did the demons look like? It was like something was fogging up his brain, allowing their appearance to escape him. Wait... Demons? Who was he talking about?

"I don't know," he moaned, thoroughly confused.

"Aw, come on Spidey! I wanna know!" Wainfleet jeered.

But Spider's head was coming back to him. He looked at Wainfleet, and so did Quaritch. While Spider's look was of a hazy understanding, the Colonel's eyes flashed with warning. "That's enough, Corporal."

Prager stood up, having packed the equipment away, giving Spider a pat on his good shoulder and carrying his bag over to Fike, the next casualty of the afternoon.

"You still in space?" Quaritch asked, taking out his holopad.

"Huh?" Spider replied. What was Quaritch talking about? He'd never been to space.

"Are you with us yet? Or do you still think that having pink skin is hilarious?" Quaritch was scanning the screen of his tablet, which from behind looked like a satellite map.

Spider groaned. What had he been talking about? The pain in his shoulder was starting to come back to him now, though it wasn't as bad as before. It just felt like it had been over exercised.

Quaritch chuckled. "I'll take that as a yes."

"How long do I have to wear this thing?" Spider asked in disgust, gesturing to the sling. It was constricting and uncomfortable, preventing him from climbing and even running with decent balance. The sooner he could burn it the better.

"Prager said at least for today. But I'll get him to look you over again this evening."

"Right."

"Until then, you're staying with me."

"What-?" Spider said, alarmed, but Quaritch had already pulled him to his feet by his good arm, marching him towards his ikran.

"I clearly can't trust you on the ground. Within ten minutes you almost got yourself killed." He hoisted Spider up in front of him, and was only successful because Spider's senses weren't what they usually were after the anesthetic.

Annoyance burned away the last of the gas and air in Spider's system. "I'm fine," he protested at the indignant manhandling.

"Yeah, yeah. Tell that to the demons."

Spider swore under his breath.

[cynnaghoul]

WHOAAAA, updated Venus reference!!

I've needed to give her a more relevant reference for eons, but HERE IT IS!!

I changed some colors and added more relevant info, which I'll add her other info to the bottom because it's important to me.

Venus is the all-hearing Oracle of the Multiverse!! Her antenna allow her to pick up on soundwaves from all over the Multiverse, coming through like a radio broadcasting signal!! She often dwells in the Omega Timeline, her "Hub" being left abandoned until recently.

Despite her humanoid appearance, Venus is far from it. She's a bug-like monster under the species name of "Snugglebug - Moth Variant - Type: Love", allowing her to control and manipulate the feelings of others.

Extra fun facts are below the cut!

Fun Facts!!

- Venus is a major plushie enthusiast

- Has collectable stuff, but I definitely think she collects buttons and bottlecaps

- Never overheats, even with all that fluff stuff on her

- Speaks loudly bc she can't hear well, ears also twitch a lot

- They're also very animated and emote a little bit

- She's only 4'10 bc rosy maples are only 2 inches big

- Favorite color is cyan

- Looks neon under blacklight, and is oddly attracted to blacklights

- Favorite flowers are calla lilies

- Likes glitter pens, so all her writing is glittery

- Calls everyone "babe" but platonically

- Nectar juice boxes are a main source of sustenance

- Complains about her ears hurting sometimes bc The Voices™️ can be a little too loud sometimes, so she needs to be moved to a quieter space that limits the sounds reaching her

- 0 spice tolerance

- Likes fireworks, but from a distance

- Prank wars with Fresh are a weekly occurrence

- Co-parents a tamagotchi with Fresh

- Makes weird pop culture references, and sometimes breaks the fourth wall (unbeknownst to those around her)

------

Rue belongs to @/rainyecho !!

Void belongs to @/demifinnyfib !!

Everyone else ofc belongs to their respective creators

[dddomenstarstwst1]

Hm I usually dont have many ideas but.. Deuce spade x amab!reader dubcon? Oh!! and even better if, like, reader is dubcon-ing Deuce on reader's birthday! Uhm btw this is my first time requesting smth so im sorry if theres anything weird! 🥹✨ Have a good day and take as much time as you need! 🫶

Yes, Deuce my boy, love him! Thank you for requesting, baby!

Birthday present (ft.deuce)

Warnings: sub!deuce, dom!gn!reader, amab!reader, dub-con, alcohol intoxication, drunk sex, bratty deuce, degradation, rimming, anal sex, spanking, name calling (slut, bitch), pet names (baby, babe)

a/n: i do not encourage having sex while intoxicated, this is just a fictional scenario. All characters are aged up and depicted as 18+ y/o

"Congrats again on surviving another year, [Name]!" Ace wraps his arm around your shoulder, a glass of red wine in his hand. You shake your head at his clearly drunk state, he can't stand still, shifting from leg to leg.

"Say, [Name], I think your boyfriend's had enough funny water already," you turn your head to the sound of Epel's voice, quickly looking in the direction he's pointing. You can see Deuce standing against the wall, face flushed red and eyes glossy. "My dude, ya gotta take him to bed."

You bid your friends goodbye, making your way to Deuce. Once he finally registers your presence, his face lits up, hands wrap around you as he murmurs something in your shoulder.

"What was it, baby?" Deuce lifts his head up, suddenly looking serious. He presses his lips to your neck and whispers against the skin.

"Want you..." You stand absolutely speechless, never expecting Deuce Spade to so openly tell you that. Your boyfriend moves his hand to palm your dick through the fabric of your jeans. You're pretty sure you heard your two friends scream "get a room, you two", but decide to ignore them.

Your room is enveloped in complete silence, a contrast to the ruckus outside. Deuce leads you further in the room, tugging your hand as he falls down on the bed, your weight on top of his. You've seen your boyfriend being bold and initiate sex, but the way his eyes are filled with lust raises goosebumps on your skin.

"I want you so bad. Touch me everywhere, rail me." Deuce's fingers find their way in your hair, closing the distance between your faces. His kisses, usually gentle and slow, are now messy and hurried, free hand tries to unbutton your pants as quickly as possible.

"Wait, hold on! Deuce, you're drunk. Let's do this some other time, when you're in the right mind."

"I said I want you to fuck me so hard I'd be unable to walk for the whole week! I want to scream your name and let everyone hear who makes me feel good. I think I'm in the right mind right now, do you?" You gulp and nod slowly. Too stunned by Deuce's sudden brattiness, you reach to pull your shirt over your head, tossing it aside.

Cyan eyes watch as you pull your pants and underwear down, shortly after following the same routine. All your attempts to control yourself crumble, when Deuce lets his hands roam all over your body, purposefully missing your aroused dick.

"Shit, fuck it!" With swift motions you turn Deuce on his stomach and bring his ass up. Your hot breath hits his exposed skin, shivers run down his spine, "Lord help you, if you forget what happens today after you wake up."

"You can always remind me tomorrow." You can practically hear a smirk in his voice, which only riles you up more. With a slap to his ass you let your tongue circle around his rim, the tip sliding inside. "Ah! It's fine, fuck me. I prepped myself..."

"You keep on surprising me tonight, babe. Is it the alcohol that brings out the brat in you?" You're not given a reply, but the way Deuce pants slightly louder is more than enough for you. Amused, you align your erection to his hole, not putting it in. "Gotta tell me what you want, Deuce."

"..." Slightly annoyed at being ignored, you lend a harsh slap to his ass. "Fu-uck! Fuck me! Please."

"Just what I wanted to hear, slut." Your dick easily slips inside Deuce, his face, though almost fully hidden in the pillows, is adorned by pink flush. You settle for a quick but steady pace, angle chosen perfectly as your tip brushed against his prostate with each thrust.

"Where'd your bratty attitude go, slut? Can't handle what I give you? Such a shame, you were trying so hard to rile me up. Yet, when I fuck you, - just like you wanted, mind you, - your dumb self goes whining like a bitch on me." As if to prove your words, Deuce lets out a high-pitched whine that grows into a loud moan.

Your boyfriend's legs tense, hole clenching around you, which means his senses are higher than usual. Alcohol did it's job, you think. Soon enough Spade starts bubbling and screaming into the pillow he had in his arms, hips struggling to meet yours in a desperate attempt to chase his orgasm.

With your name on his swollen lips, Deuce cums in white spurts that lend underneath him. He lays still, breathing a little rapid as his muscles relax slowly.

"Hey, did you pass out? Tch, and who asked me to fuck him so rough he'd be limping for a week? I didn't even get to cum, babe," you laugh under your breath, covering your sleeping boyfriend with a blanket, before scattering his clothes from the floor and placing them on the chair, "You owe me one, Deuce. Better pay back tomorrow morning."

You lay next to him, wrapping an arm around his waist and planting a quick kiss to his forehead.

"Goodnight, love."