#it needs to be a horrible neon color

[saeiken]

beach volleyball kagehina

[cherryredstars]

hello cherry this is my first time requesting something :)))) i was wondering if you could do a miguel x reader where y/n and miguel get into a big fight because miguel hasn’t been home / hasn’t been letting the reader know when he isn’t going to be there and after their fight y/n goes out to the club to let off some steam with her friends and it turns out miguel is at the club for a business meeting and he spots her and gets a bit possessive (feel free to add anything else you’d like hehehe that’s what im mainly been thinking about )

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader

Warnings: Possessiveness, Suggestive, Slight Praise, Dom!Miguel Vibes

A/N: Hello, love! I hope you enjoy!

Unedited

You were still fuming when he left.

Your cheeks puffed in agitation, glaring at him from the couch as he walked out the door. Horrible timing if you ask him. One second the two of you are fighting about how he barely has time for you with all these meetings, and the next he’s asking for a rain check because he’ll be late for a business conference. Really helping him out there.

It’s left him annoyed the whole meeting, resisting the urge to bang his head against the table and rub his face until it peels off. In all honesty, he doesn’t really need to be part of this meeting. He’s only here for looks, not even expected to know what the meeting is about or add any input. He could be at home, laying on the couch between your legs as he laps at the liquid gold between your thighs as an apology.

Miguel lets out a heavy sigh, the noise getting lost with the loud music that’s giving him a headache. His eyes wonder from the table of men, turning his head to peer over the railing surrounding the balcony of the VIP section. His eyes scan the mass of people, taking in the writhing mass. At his age, things like clubs have lost their appeal, but he knows this place would be something you would like. You’d love to dance to these songs, too.

Miguel hums to himself, making a mental note to take you here sometime soon. His eyes are about to go back to the meeting when he spots a familiar face in the crowd. Or, multiple faces. His eyes zero in on you, your face turned to talk to your friend behind you. The strobe lights light your face in different neon colors, and he straightens up. His eyes stay on you as you walk through the crowd, a drink in one hand and the other slapped over the top as you walk. Good girl.

Miguel is content to have you have this time with the girls, knowing after fights like this you need something to take your mind off of things. But his eyes stray to a group of men near the bar leering over at your group of friends, one of the sleazy fucks gaining courage to walk towards you. Miguel’s expression sours, and he fixes his suit jacket as he stands up. The group instantly stops talking, focusing on Miguel.

“Where are you going?” One of his coworkers ask, brows furrowing in confusion.

Miguel doesn’t spare him a glance, adjusting the cuffs of his suit. “Bathroom.”

The group continues to watch him, slowly turning back to each other and continuing the conversation. Miguel turns his back to them as he leaves, his eyes sticking to where you and your group stand. He can see the fuck walking towards you, and he grumbles when he realizes he’ll get to you first. Once he descends the stairs, it gets slightly harder to spot you. But it isn’t an impossible task with his abnormal height, and he can still make out the vague area you’re in. The crowd parts easily for his intimidating build, and soon enough he’s a few feet away from you.

As expected the sleaze is already with you, mouth moving way too much as he talks to you. Your brow is furrowed in annoyance, and you glare at the man as he talks. Miguel can’t make out what he’s saying, but he can tell you aren’t interested in his shit. Miguel’s stare hardens when the man leans forward, getting into your personal space and whispers something to you.

Miguel reaches you right as you lift your hand to slap him. Miguel’s front presses into your back, his hands acting fast as one wraps around your wrist and the other around your neck to tilt your head up. Your face shoots up to stare at him, the glare in your eyes softening slightly at the sight of him. Miguel’s thumb strokes the pulse point on your neck, calming you down as he stares at the man in front of you.

“Down girl,” he mumbles to you, slowly lowering your hand so it rests at your side.

You make a sound similar to a scoff, but you don’t resist. Your body melts into him, and you turn to hug him when he lets go of your neck. The man looks between the two of you and scoffs, walking off with an irritated grumble once he realizes he’s not getting lucky with you. Miguel watches him go, his large hand stroking your hair.

Once he’s completely gone you pull away from Miguel. That glare is back on your face, and you cross your arms as you stare at him.

“I’m not some dog.” You sass, tilting your chin up.

Miguel hums. uninterested. His hand comes to grab your cheeks, squeezing them together so your lips pucker. The furrow in your brow grows deeper, and Miguel’s mouth twitches at the corner.

“Of course not, mamí,” he agrees. “But you are a brat.”

You begin to grumble a protest but Miguel pinches your cheeks tighter.

“Ah-“ he cuts you off. “Behave and have fun, yeah? I’ll come get you when my meeting’s done.”

Your lips jut out further with a pout, and your grumble something inaudible before nodding reluctantly. Miguel hums, leaning down and pressing a quick kiss to your lips.

“Good girl. I’ll be back”

He lets go of your face, pressing a kiss to your forehead before giving you a once over and leaving. You watch him go, trying to ignore the ache between your thighs.

You hate that fucker.

[vagabond-umlaut]

summer collapsed into fall

summary: gojo satoru has no favourite colour. he feels no need nor interest to have one, either. pairing: gojo satoru x reader [unspecified gender] tags: slight undertones of teacher-student relationship BUT there is NO ACTUAL romance between them; can this be called pining? idk; character study like fic of our sweetest satoru *cries* he deserves sm better; fluff but with a mild serving of angst; wc 0.8k notes: fic title inspired by a quote by oscar wilde; fic inspired by this lovely post i saw on pinterest; jjk isn't mine; loosely related to 'you make my heart flutter and fibrillate'; tumblr hates me using dividers hence the new fic format ^_^

satoru doesn't really have a favourite colour.

it's never quite crossed his mind. and even if it has, he has never seen it to be important enough to allow it be anything more than a passing thought, a meaningless thought---it is not like his life will be impeded should he not have a favourite colour, nor is anyone ever going to ask him what it is, so why bother?

but now, as you peer up at him expectantly, having already listed your top five favourite colours and why you love them so, satoru wishes he did bother back then.

he decides to feign confusion.

"what?"

"what what?" you shoot back, eager gaze not wavering one bit, "i just told you my favourite colours; aren't you gonna tell me yours? it's fine even if you have just one, sensei."

but is it fine if he has none?

throwing his watch a quick glance, he turns back to you. then exhales a quiet sigh, tired but the farthest from annoyed, when he sees you're still waiting for his reply... shutting the bus window beside, he turns to lean against it, shifting to face you properly.

and sighs, decidedly noisier this time, "this isn't the type of questions one asks their teacher, y'know? they are too casual, meant more for a friend than for a teacher."

"you got to be the last guy to lecture me about etiquette, sensei," you retort without missing a beat, huffing a quiet, amused laugh.

"and after the time i had to bring you to ieiri-san after you passed out from drinking a bit too much: i guess we're a bit more than a teacher and a student, aren't we, sensei?"

not really... no.

while satoru believes your first point to be a debatable topic, he does not think the two of you are anything but a teacher and a student, no matter how much help you extended to him or will in the future---it's not like he isn't grateful, though. he is; he really, really is---it's just his belief that few acts of kindness do not necessarily cause a friendship between people, and he intends to tell you this very clearly---

but finds he cannot. he simply cannot.

not when you say, still so eager but with an undercurrent so achingly soft that even the strongest wonders if he can handle its weight: "i'm not that bad a friend, y'know---you can ask others if you want; they'll tell you i'm a good friend, not the best but a decent one---"

"why don't you guess what's my favourite colour?"

rude, yes, horribly so. satoru knows, he knows this very, very well. but what can a man do but divert when he's being unsettled by words like the ones you addressed to him, by the tenor you employed for him---

although now that he observes you consider his suggestion, the man wonders if diversion was the right tactic or not.

he could have just lied and told you any random color. he could have chosen to be honest and told you he has no favourite colour like you and probably the rest of the world have.

but no, he doesn't.

satoru does not opt either of the above two painfully simple, painfully easy options. choosing instead to ask you to guess what his favourite colour is... satoru never really anticipates he'll end up being this much more unsettled, thanks to his decision of diversion:

if there was a subtext of a haunting softness in your manners before, the sorcerer reckons it is the text now, typed out in bold letters then underlined and highlighted in neon---you too shift to face him, even moving the bag kept in between to your lap and shifting a bit closer, but still a respectable distance away---only to punctuate your effort with a keen stare, much too gentle, at him.

it's scary, he thinks. yeah, undoubtedly scary. but somewhere in the back of his mind, something says it's also comforting.

many eyes look at satoru throughout the day. they gape, they gawk, they study the man and every small aspect of his person with many different kinds of reasons behind them. but before today, there has never been anyone who has regarded him with this much care, that too for a nonsensical cause like yours...

he wonders, just what are you seeing in him?

just who are you seeing in him?

"it's orange, isn't it?" you exclaim abruptly, leaning a touch forwards with a snap of your pointer and thumb. voice too loud. smile too big. eyes too bright, way too bright---

satoru takes not even one whole second to decide:

he now has one favourite colour.

[on-the-virge-of-breaking]

Patton groans, slipping into the bar alone. Usually, the singer would never be caught dead without Remus or Logan, but the drummer was already hammered off somewhere else in town, and Patton didn't need his older brother and keyboard player riding him. Plus, considering they weren't getting anywhere with the bus broken down. And so here he is, sitting down at the bar and getting something sweet to drink, hoping he doesn't get recognized.

@pattxnsanders

The bar was rather chill. Most people were there chatting some dancing but it was a definitely peaceful place. The lighting was rather low and the whole bar had a calm atmosphere, the walls were grey and most of the wood was black or dark brown. But even with all the monotonous colors and how dark they all seemed it still had some light, around the bar and on the ceilings hung stained glass bottles and there were many aspects of the bar that just had a splash of different colors with random patterned and colored cushions on chairs and even some neon lights behind the drinks at the bar. Currently some music was playing over the speakers, specifically the music from Patton’s band.

Virgil, the current bartender, looked up noticing someone new walking into the bar and went over. He felt like he’d seen the other before… but honestly he was horrible at names and putting them to faces. “Hey,” Virgil greeted leaning against the inside of the bar counter, “Would you like something to drink? I mean i’d assume so… this is a bar… Um would you like anything?”

[unholyhelbig]

Keep the kate angst coming pls

Title: Firecrest (Part 4/???)

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four

Summary: Kate Bishop and y/n have an unspoken agreement that revolves around being enemies with benefits. But when Kate's new mentor is someone Y/n is very familiar with, things become complicated.

Warnings: Bad parenting, panic attacks, possible arson, descriptions of fire, fight scenes, blood, angst, and horrible grammar (I don't proofread)

[A/n: All of my Kate Bishop stories have a tendancy to flop, but this one is for you, six loyal readers, I love you!]

Bobbi Morse refused to release her hold on the duffle bag. It was comically pink but covered in different drawings that bled into the nylon as if the item had been wounded. You hated the color, despised it, really, but defacing it with sharpie markers seemed to settle your discontent.

Her other hand gripped her daughters shoulder with her usual confidence and you knew better than to pull away from her. The woman in front of you was only a head taller than you, her face pockmarked with zits of different pustules of width. When she smiled, her lips made an uncomfortable noise against her braces.

“Miss Morse, I promise you, Y/n will have a fantastic, safe, time.”

They were playing tug-of-war with the bag now. It was subtle enough that no one else would notice. But of course, Eleanor Bishop was always the first in the room to notice subtle. She materialized out of a Rolls-Royce that had a strange purple tint to it in the mountain sun.

“Oh, Bobbi, you have to relax.” The woman gabbed your mother in the side. If anyone else had ever tried that, they’d lose a hand or possibly a heart. “You think I would really send Katherine to Target Trails if it were dangerous? These are trained professionals.”

That seemed to relax Bobbi’s shoulders by half an inch. Your mother was not worried about safety. She had ensured that you knew how to take care of yourself from a young age, much younger than the counselor in front of you now.

The idea of leaving you in the middle of the forest wasn’t a problem either. You had survival skills, you could make a home for yourself out here in the wilderness and wander back to civilization on your own in time for school to start in the fall.

Bobbi trusted you. What she didn’t’ trust, was your powers. You had become less reactive over the years, relied on therapeutic techniques to control the fire that festered just below your fingertips. But there were moments, sporadic ones, where the heat got away from you and you were too groggy to chase it.

“Jessica, dear. Can you make sure that Katherine and Y/n are in the same bunk?”

“Mrs. Bishop, the assignments have been set for weeks, I can’t just-“ a crisp hundred dollar bill was slid across her neon clipboard. Her eyes widened, narrowed, but she snatched it up all the same. “Would you look at that? We just had a bed open up in the bullseye cabin.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but Bobbi was suddenly relinquishing her hold on your bag to cup both of your shoulders. At fifteen, you were nearly her height. She made a point never to bend down to speak to you. It was demeaning, and you both knew it. She addressed you like an adult in these moments.

“Okay, sweetie, remember what doctor Garner said.”

It wasn’t a question. Your coping mechanisms were drilled into your mind, tattooed against the softness of your brain. You were supposed to name five things in the room you could touch, five you could see, five you could hear, and five you could smell. By the time you’d puzzled it out, you had reached to the end of that ever-familiar heat.

There were other tools; an imaginary box to put your worries in, a safe-space that was fire retardant. But there were almost always moments you feared that nothing would work. That you’d torch a place and add more names to your ledger of misuse.

“I love you, firefly.” Bobbi kissed between your eyebrows and gave your shoulders an extra squeeze. “Send a smoke signal if you need me.”

She smiled jokingly before loading back into her jeep and expertly pulling from the gravel drive. She kicked up white dust behind her that tasted like the salt of the earth when you inhaled. Jessica smelled like sunscreen and sweat, and you stepped to the side before she had a chance to touch you in a nurturing way.

“Right, let’s get you to your bunk.”

There were four other girls in Bullseye, including Kate; America Chavez, who had somehow already found a stick to carve with a pocket-knife that should have been confiscated upon entry. Cassie Lang, a small blonde that had already claimed the top bunk. And Gwen Poole, a girl who would have loved your pink bag before you destroyed it, the tips of her hair dyed the offensive color.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.”

“It’s good to see you too, Katie.”

“Okay!” Jessica clapped her hands together, “Y/n, I’ll leave you to get settled. Dinner is at six and there is a mandatory campfire afterwards.”

She seemed to sense the tension and left fast enough not to get hit with the sticky screen door. She took the cabin steps two at a time and kicked up a trail of dirt much like Bobbi had. Kate had claimed the bottom bunk on your side of the cabin, leaving you with the rickety top.

“I hope you’ve curved that nasty bed-wetting habit of yours.” She said, just loud enough for the whole cabin to hear.

“Hope you packed an umbrella.”

Kate turned as white as a sheet and clutched her pillow to her chest. She could never tell if you were being serious or not. Of course, you weren’t. You’d never wet the bed. Setting it ablaze on the other hand? That wasn’t so far out of the realm of possibility.

“You take that back,”

A wolfish grin moved across your face before you pulled yourself up onto the scratchy green blanket. The springs creaked as if they’d been used for years. You were suddenly exhausted and made no move to remove your boots, or unpack the duffle shoved to the side.

“Do you two know each other?” America asked, shirking a long strip of birch onto her own bed. She was sitting cross legged, getting it as sharp as she possibly could. You had a feeling you would gravitate towards her throughout the summer. “Or is this some weird attempt at flirting?”

You sat up fast enough to make your head spin, “Our parents run in the same circles. We’re obliged to be in each-others presence at least 75% of the year.”

“Obliged? Try forced” She scoffed, scowling at you. “You don’t even like archery.”

“I like being better at it than you.”

“You’re not.”

“They’re totally flirting.” Gwen whispered to Cassie, who gave an exaggerated nod, barely stifling her blinding grin with the stuffed bear she’d brought along to suffer with the rest of them.

Most of that summer had passed by in a blur. You really didn’t like archery. Your aim was there, but your form was lacking. Kate ticked all the boxes and had even split an arrow straight down the middle on the second day of camp, much to your dismay.

The two of you mostly stayed out of one another’s way, on opposite schedules by design. You’d grown impossibly close with Gwen and America, the three of you none too enthusiastic about the sport that Target Trails boasted about. You were much too interested in the lake, and spent most of your time out there.

A week and a half before the end of summer, and you had let your guard down. You would never admit this, but you were actually having fun and participating. Gwen had begged you to attend a movie night at the fire pits, and you had agreed with the promise of sickly sweet marshmallows.

The two of you were huddled up under a blanket, biting through the late-night mountain chill. You hadn’t been paying attention to the content that would be shown, nor to anything other than the slow-moving bag of puffed deliciousness that was making its way towards you.

“We have a real treat for you tonight, campers. We’ve got first hand access to the new Hawkeye documentary! It’s not releasing until this November, but he loves what we do here at Target Trails and gave us an exclusive.”

A wash of numbness fell over you, appetite suddenly gone. You were frowning, you knew, at the documentary as it played on a hung white sheet, strung up between two evergreens. Your fingers curled around the edge of the blanket.

Gwen nudged you with the bag of marshmallows, but you shook your head, too engrossed in the picture on the screen. Seeing him as a hero, you could handle. He’d been on the news, and you’d caught glimpses before Bobbi shut it off. But this was different. This was about his life.

He sat at his kitchen table with his family. A baby cradled in his arms and a woman with kind eyes at his side. There was a girl around the same age as you in the other chair, pushing yellow eggs around her plate and doing her best to ignore the camera. A daughter.

“Lila, don’t be rude, say hi to the nice film crew.”

Clint was joking, and the frame was shaky, but she gave a small wave and dazzling smile regardless. The thought was bitter; what made her different from you?

You didn’t realize that your breath had quickened and you’d wigged out of the fleece blanket that you shared. Gwen looked at you with worry, but you had the stamina to hold it together until you could maneuver around other campers to the darkness of the surrounding woods.

Far enough to stifle your sob in the side of your hand and fall to the damp forest floor. The pain that ripped through you was unbearable, and you naively dug your fingers into the dirt to see if it would extinguish the building flames.

The pressure licked at your throat and pressed down your spine like a metal rod. It hurt to hold it in, to let warm tears soak through the glowing embers that had taken over your irises. You were doing so well. You were pretending almost too well, to be normal.

Arms were around you in an instant, but you were too far gone to push them away. Instead, you folded into the embrace. It was cold compared to your body-heat, the scent of artificial wintergreen rivaled the real thing. It was Kate. You knew from the strong grip of her hands and the gentle soothing words that you couldn’t process.

A growl had escaped you, and when you peered up at her, the orange glow of your eyes shaded her features. There was no moon tonight. They flickered like a lantern used as a beacon. Kate drew in a sharp breath, but didn’t’ push.

“You need to breathe for me, y/n.” She said instead, letting you clutch onto her camp shirt and stain it with dirt. You were in her lap like an insolent child, but you would combust if she let you go. As if on instinct, she held you tighter. “Four in, six out, come on.”

You tried to follow instructions, but the pain started to roll in waves. The rolling in your stomach felt like you were about to vomit up magma. Kate was panicked, you could see the beautiful gray of her stare flicker with worry. Your hands were getting hotter.

“Fuck it,” She hissed.

Kate leaned down with fervor and pressed her lips against yours. It was not graceful, her teeth hit your own with a dull clack and her hand was gripping your collar to hold you up. Her nose was cold, and her chest heaved up and down with anxiety. It was much too clumsy, and it was glorious.

Eventually, you sucked in a deep breath and used your heels to scramble away from her, back hitting the hard bark of a tree. She had a dazed, glassy stare that still seemed to seep with worry. The worst of it was over, and you were suddenly exhausted.

Your stare didn’t glow like engine coal and your skin had returned to it’s normal pigment. You were breathing normal, almost greedy for the tinny taste of it. “What the hell, Kate?”

“Me what the hell?” She whispered harshly, “You what the hell! I was preventing a forest fire.”

“You’re not smokey the mother-fucking-bear.”  

It was harsh, you should be thanking her, but you wanted to get as far away from the archer as possible. You clambered to your feet and started to head towards civilization. You needed to get to the payphone. Screw the last few weeks of camp. That was too close of a call.

Kate didn’t’ let you get far. Her fingers wrapped around your wrist and she held you in place with an impressive amount of strength for a girl her size. “I don’t understand a lot about what happened just now. That’s not important. I don’t get why you’re so mad.”

“Because,” The first word was easy, the rest got stuck in your throat. You tore your hand away and she let you. “You… stole my first kiss.”

Her features softened for a moment before she narrowed her eyes in what you could only describe as discontent. There was plenty to thank Kate Bishop for, and plenty more that you had to explain to her. Instead, you were hung up on this. And why wouldn’t you be?

You’d been saving it. You’d expertly dodged Tommy Maximoff at a game of spin the bottle just last week. And before that, you’d gone to see a movie with Teddy Altman who seemed as worried about grabbing your hand with his sweaty one as you were. None of it felt right, and the two of you both breathed a sigh of relief when the credits rolled.

She kicked dejectedly at the dirt. “You took mine too, you know? You were freaking out and I saw it in a movie. It worked. Didn’t it?”

You blinked at her in surprise. Kate bragged on multiple occasions that she and Eli Bradley, a kid that was way too into ROTC, had made out behind the bleachers. It made sense now, why the two of you had done your awkward little dance on the forest floor.

“Thank you,” You settled, working shaking hands through disheveled hair, suddenly feeling even. “For doing that, I mean. It could have been really bad.”

 An obscure pop song crackled through the overhead speakers in the grocery store. The lights buzzed under the melody, uncomfortable and neon in their flickering annoyance. You hadn’t been able to sleep, which wasn’t a surprise, so you took advantage of the low traffic to stock up on essentials.

Bread, milk, and dry pasta. Your diet wasn’t the best, but it filled you up and the staples still maintained an easy enough price for you to justify your purchases. The basket hung from your arm, slowly filling with off-brand items.

You were busy stocking up on bandages and antiseptic when you felt an odd crawling feeling up the back of your neck. You were being watched. Your movements stilled for half a second before you continued with your task, senses becoming overwhelmed with an expensive floral scent.

“Miss Morse, strange running into you here.”

Yes, it was strange. You didn’t know that Eleanor Bishop did her own grocery shopping, and judging by the single orange in her cart, you weren’t sure she had actually decided to do so now. There was a sheepish smile on her face. She had the decency to look somewhat embarrassed.

“Relax, sweetie.” She squeezed your upper arm. “You don’t have to be so guarded. I just wanted to extend an invitation to dinner this Friday. It’s a formal event, just a chance to get to know my daughters partner a little better.”

The air suddenly felt thick. You still hadn’t produced a comprehensive sentence and now you opened and closed your mouth like a goldfish that had hopped from it’s bowl. She had a thin smile on her face that failed to hide her true rage.

“I’ll even extend the invitation to your father.”

Finally, you found your voice. “I’m sure Lance would appreciate the thought, but he’ll, uh, be out of town until next Monday I’m afraid.”

“No, no. Not Lance, silly. Clint.”

Your grip tightened on the box of bandages. It made a sad noise under your crushing fingers. Eleanor’s unwavering gaze flicked down and then back up, hardly phased by your knee-jerk reaction. You were flushed with an odd type of calmness.

Five things you can touch: The rough fabric of your jacket. The metal handle of the basket. The obnoxious blue plastic at it’s end. The crumpled box of bandages.

“How do you know about that?”

“Well, dear, people talk.”

Five things you can see: The venom in Eleanor Bishops eyes. A single fly trapped in the light fixture above. A bored clerk that pushed packs of gum around the counter. The puke-colored floor tiles under your feet. The line of green vitamin bottles just below your shoulder.

“That won’t be a problem, will it? I’ve heard through the grapevine that you and Katherine are getting quite serious. It’s only customary to meet the parents. I know Bobbi so well, but Clint is all anyone can talk about these days. We’d love to get to know him better.”

Five things you can hear: The pitiful last cries of the trapped fly. The squeak of a cart that was three aisles over. The dull hum of the frozen section across the store. Eleanor Bishop’s even, calculated, breaths. An obscure rock-song blaring from the clerks’ headphones.

“Y/n?” She prodded, lifting a sculpted eyebrow.

“That… that uh,”

Five things you can smell: Your own sweat, quickly slicking your back. The musky floral perfume that Eleanor Bishop bathed in. The sharp edge of antiseptic contained by plastic bottles. The faux citrus scent of floor cleaner. The beginning of bile climbing your throat.

“Yes, of course, Mrs. Bishop.” You schooled your features into something you hoped was calm. “I’ll be there.”

She clapped her hands once, a moment of success. You were absolutely drenched in sweat with a heat that even the frozen section couldn’t cure. She went to pat you on the shoulder but thought better of it, before leaving her cart with the singular orange behind.

Shopping was the furthest thing from your mind at this point. Any semblance of productivity was morphed into shock, and then scathing anger. You set your own basket down and turned to rush from the grocery store, entirely overwhelmed in the area you’d just used to steady yourself.

The change in temperature between the store and city streets was minimal. You could feel your breath speed up, your fingers start to tingle. You had to get out of here, so you started to run. Kate’s usual haunts as a hero weren’t too far, and even if they were, you were positive that you could sprint to them.

People became scarce on the sidewalks, a humid mist coated your skin. White fairy lights adorned every other tree, and then none at all. There was a darkness, chain link fences and a dog that lunged on a short lead. The streets were empty, and your chest began to ache.

You stopped in the center of the street, shouting out “Hawkeye!”

It wasn’t certain which one you would summon. You tightened your fists, clenching your eyes shut as you tried to control your breathing. You hadn’t had a panic attack like this in years, high school, to be exact. The turmoil kept building. The memories you’d shoved down boiled up.

“Hawkeye!” You shouted again, letting the orange flames engulf your fingertips, cracking against skin. “Come out or I start torching everything!”

An overreaction? Perhaps. But part of you, a very small part, was tired of playing the hero when all of the cards were stacked against you. What was stopping you from being a villain? You had your nemesis in both archers for different reasons, and a formidable villain you would be.

It would be easy to let go of the control you’d worked so hard to build. Fires were uncontrollable, they were dangerous and deadly. There was no problem setting them. It was controlling the blaze once it’d been ignited that could bring absolute destruction.

“Five!” You called out, your boots on the ground the only noise. “Four!”

You spotted a trail of gasoline leaking form the bottom of an old Camaro that was propped up on cinderblocks, all four tires being ripped from the frame. Perfect. It was clearly abandoned, and far enough away from the brownstones to be a real risk. An attention grabber.

“Three!”

You were feeling heady now. A wash of dizziness had replaced the panic as your emotions were simmering down. You knelt, the sharp scent of gasoline filling your senses. Even the smallest touch would ignite the vehicle in a wash of flames.

“Two!”

Still, nothing. The quiet was eerie. Much like crickets and frogs in the country, the city relied on it’s staple noises. There was never silence, but it fell heavy on your shoulders now. You could cut your losses, raise to your feet, and walk away. But walking away never got you anywhere. Walking away was too much like your father.

The sharp sound of an arrow being pulled back pulled you from your thoughts. “Not another move.”

Kate was bluffing. You could see the uncertainty and fear in her eyes. Of course, you were positive that you were harboring the same thing. You weren’t obedient in this moment. The sight of her in her black tactical suit, marred in purple, was captivating. Infuriating all the same.

A rush of hot air pooled at your palms as you righted yourself. They’d gotten stronger, hotter. Blue licked harmlessly at your skin now. You clenched your jaw and lilted your head to the side. In this moment, despite the intoxicated hold she had on you, you wanted to fight her. Wound her as she’d wounded you.

“Do it. Shoot.” You called her bluff. Her aim was slipping. “Or we could put all of our flashy toys away and have it out like adults.”

She made no move to lower her weapon. “We can talk this out. Just step away from the car.”

“This car? God, she’s a beauty. It’s such a shame that it was put to waste like this.”

“Y/n,” She warned in a muted growl. “I will shoot.”

This time, you believed her. Any slack in her stance had tightened like she were on puppet strings. She aimed directly at your chest. Hawkeyes never aimed to kill, but they would. Kate would, if she was pushed far enough.

You lifted both of your hands up in a half surrender, letting the flames extinguish themselves. You’d shown so much restraint. So much leniency for an unfair situation that plagued the both of you. Kate lowered her arrow, the metal tip pointed at the ground before she placed it back in the quiver entirely, sensing the danger dissolving.

When she glanced up and closed the distance between the two of you, your breath hitched. There was insurmountable anger in her eyes. In a quick movement, she slapped you with an open palm, hard enough to make you taste metal, but not hard enough to cause a ringing in your ears.

Kate hissed “that was fucking stupid of you.”

Your head was turned to the side, the harsh sting throbbing in tune to your heartbeat. You pulled in a humid breath and let it out within the same sentence. It had been stupid of you, nearly starting another fire that could very easily get out of control. You’d never admit that to Kate.

In a swift move, you grabbed Kate’s arm, twisting it until she let out a yelp and fell clumsily to one knee. You stopped shy of breaking anything. “No, it was fucking stupid to tell your mother about Clint.”

Kate’s fist hit your stomach with a cheap shot. It was still effective, knocking the breath right out of your lungs. By the strap of her quiver, you dragged her back to her feet and slammed her against the side of the car.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“You’re the only one that knows, Kate!” You snarled “Your mother invited me to a family dinner with him.”

Your knee was in between hers, she was panting, strands of hair falling into her slate stare. There was a smear of dark blood against the corner of her lip. You hadn’t put it there, and though she was pinned under you right now, you wanted to destroy the person who had done that to her.

Fist-fights were predictable for you and Kate. The first time she landed a punch was at her 9th birthday party. You don’t remember how the quarrel started, it was that trivial. It was a pool party with an inflatable slide that might as well be a boxing ring.

There was hair pulling and you remember Lance wrapping his arms around you while Derek Bishop wrestled to pull a feral Kate to the other side of the yellow slide. After fifteen minutes, the two of you were sitting at the edge of the pool digging into chocolate cake.

“Y/n, have you ever considered that other people heard the conversation we had at the benefit?” She sighed, letting her head thump softly against the side of the car. “My mother has ears and eyes everywhere. I didn’t even tell her we were dating. I would never do that to you.”

She shoved you off, and you went slack, allowing her to. You were close enough to a catering table that it was plausible. Kate sounded broken, and it filled you with a deep guilt that you weren’t quite prepared for. You had been so certain.

“Fuck.”

“Yeah. Fuck.” She bumped into your shoulder as she walked past you. You turned, tracking her with your eyes. “After all these years, do you really think that little of me?”

“No, Kate I...”

She looked at you expectantly. Sadness rimmed her stare. All of your previous anger had melted away. There was nothing there but a deep dread. You never wanted to hurt her. You hung your head like a kicked dog, feeling a lump form in your throat.

“We’ll do the dinner. Keep playing the part. But after that, it’s done. I don’t owe you anything.”

“You don’t.”

Your voice was tight, chest suddenly painful. She used the edge of her thumb to wipe at the wound on the edge of her lip that you’d reopened. She swiped her tongue over it for good measure.

You were crying.

But she respected you just enough not to say anything.

Tag List💕: @noturlondonboy, @slvtformaria, @pianogirl2121

[scekrex]

Hey could you by chance do an Adam x reader who dies their hair all the time? Like one month they have blue hair, the next it's pink, then black, then red, and there's no real way to tell what color is next besides maybe a "I think people with *insert hair color here* look super cool", thanks and have an amazing day/night!

I fucking got you, as someone who used to dye his hair every 4-6 weeks, I feel reader's vibe

Pretty Boy Swag

pairing: Adam x male!reader

warnings: language

note: not beta read bc fuck you I don't have beta readers

“Adam,” you called out for your boyfriend from the bathroom. It only took him a few seconds to open the door and lean against the door frame, his arms were crossed over his chest and the look in his eyes was critical. Even though he was very much enjoying the view of you sitting there only dressed in boxer shorts in order not to mess up any clothes.

In annoyance he sighed, “What color this time?” Like don't get him wrong, he didn't mind that you dyed your hair regularly, he thought it was fucking badass, but he didn't like helping you because no matter how careful he was, he would always get that fucking hair dye on his skin and it would take days to fade. Your lips curled into a playful smirk as you put on your gloves and squirted some dye onto your plastic covered palm. “First bleaching, then purple,” you replied. Adam's eyes flickered up to look at the faded neon green that your hair currently was and decided that purple sounded like a fucking great upgrade. “Alright, gimme the gloves,” he continued to act all annoyed as he stepped closer. The brunette stopped behind you and took the gloves you held up to him. Once his hands were safe, he took the bottle with bleach inside from you. Bleach was fine, it burned a little in his eyes and it smelled absolutely horrible, but bleach didn't stain his hands for days so he could live with that. As long as none of it got onto his or your wings, that was.

The bit of bleach that you had squeezed onto your hand you roughly applied, only for Adam to bat your hand away, “You want me to help so you're gonna sit fucking still and let me do my fucking thing.” He would never admit that he secretly enjoyed your little hair dying sessions. It was relaxing, really. “So why purple?” the first man hummed as he made sure the bleach covered every inch of your hair. “Y’know, because extermination is in a couple days and your battle robe is mainly purple so,” you shrugged as you watched Adam through the mirror in front of you, “So you thought it would be a nice fucking match, huh?” he finished for you. “Damn right. Whatcha think?”

Adam thought about it for a moment, “Do you have golden dye?” You raised an eyebrow at that, curious on what his plans were. “Yeah, in the back of the cabinet is a bit of leftover gold, why?” Adam however, completely ignored your question and continued to cover your hair in bleach silently.

Once he was done the two of you decided to order food and something while the bleach was working its magic. A thing Adam didn't calculate was that the food would take some time to arrive so when it did, it was already time to wash out the chemicals. So instead of immediately eating, you two went back into the bathroom to finish your job.

“So you gonna tell me what you need that for? I asked for purple, not gold,” you were about to complain but Adam pushed you down on your shoulders until you were sitting on the chair you had placed there before you had started to mix the bleach. “Split dye babes, if you wanna match colors, we're gonna do it fucking right.” You liked the way he thought. So he used the golden hair dye on the left and the purple on the right side. Once the color was applied, the two of you finally got to eat.

“Remind me to let you pick my hair color every now ‘n’ then, big guy, because fuck you have taste,” you mumbled with a mouth full of sushi and a shit eating grin on your lips. “Did you ever doubt that?” his voice was playful as he raised an eyebrow at you, a silent challenge. “Maybe, I mean gold and purple? C’mon, that's clearly a you-thing.” If he could, he would've tackled you and wrestled you down onto the floor, pinning you down. But he couldn't because that would cause a fucking mess, not only on the floor but also on your head. So he didn't.

-

Well at least until you had washed it out, because the second you had turned off the sink, he wrapped his hands around your waist, lifted you up just to carry you on his shoulders like a large bag of potatoes. “The fuck?” you squeaked in surprise as Adam carried you out of the bathroom and right into your bedroom. “Adam my hair's still fucking wet!” Not that he cared. He dropped you onto the soft mattress and leaned over you within a blink and for a tiny moment you felt dizzy by how quick he had moved. “Shush bitchboy, you look absolutely fucking glorious and I take that as my sign to fuck you stupid.”

[0nlyhere4phil]

Rating All of The Howlters New Outfits (except the randomized ones)

Some of you actually asked for this, so here's my review of the Howlters new outfits!

Starting with Dils Formal:

I honestly don't know how to feel about this. It's just not Dil. It doesn't go with his nerdy dad vibe at all. It makes him look older, it doesn't fit him right, and the color is really weird. If they had gone with the blue and some different shoes I think I would have liked it more, but since they didn't put much effort into it it's just bad. Objectively it's an okay suit, but for Dil it just doesn't work. So yeah overall just a no 4/10.

Next His Sleepwear:

Why did they like this so much? What is actually wrong with them? If it was just the pants and the slippers it would have been fine, but the pants, the slippers, AND socks...it's just too much. No no no bad. 2/10.

Next His Party Wear:

What are they doing to him?? Who is this? I'm kind of just staring at this not knowing what to say, because I think if, minus that UGLY HAT, this was on a different and younger sim it would look okay. This looks like Dil is going through a midlife crisis. I like that the shoes match the shirt, thats nice, and I like the overall color pallet, BUT NOT ON DIL! So I'm weirdly torn, but since this look is on Dil I don't like it. Again it's not that bad but on Dil it's just horrible 4.5/10. I hate that fucking hat.

Next His Swimwear:

You don't get how relieved I am that they didn't put him in a fucking speedo. I like this a lot. This looks like a father, which is perfect for Dil. It's cute, it's simple, and I like the colors they chose. 9/10

Next His Hot Weather:

Meh. They didn't change much, they just made it worse. I prefered the original because I feel like the green looked better. Also wearing slippers on a hot day sounds absolutely HORRIBLE! 3/10

Next His Cold Weather:

I absolutely LOVE THIS! It's so fun! Dil in the horrible 80s dad aesthetic works perfectly! It's still nerdy as well! I feel like this is perfect. If they had made his whole wardrobe this over the top ugly neon nerdy look I would have loved it! 10/10

That's it for Dil. To say I'm disappointed is an understatement. I feel like they should have gone for nerdy Dad than whatever the hell they actually did. Next up is Tabitha.

Tabitha's Everyday:

This is just an upgraded version of her original outfit. I like the new hair color, though I wish they looked through different hairstyles cause the one they chose is not giving what it needed to give. I LOVE her new tattoo, I think it's fun that they gave her it. I also do like the shoes matching the hair. This is cute! 8.5/10

Next Her Formal:

I like the dress, but the outfit looks unfinished. They should have changed her makeup into something more dramatic to match the dress, and they also should have put some bracelets and necklaces on her. They did good on picking the main part of the outfit now they need to go back and finish it. 6/10 (I couldn't get a good screenshot with the tattoo sorry)

Next Her Sleepwear:

Slay queen. I love this honestly. I like how lavender has become her color. The sunglasses are iconic. The only thing I hate is SOCKS WITH SLIPPERS! THAT LOOKS LIKE IT FEELS HORRIBLE! Other than the sock and slipper combo this eats. 9.5/10

Next Her Party:

I beg your pardon? What is THIS and WHY was Dan so obsessed with it? This is horrible. I'm glad they remembered that necklaces and nails exist but I'm upset they exist on this monstrosity. Nothing about this goes together. THIS. IS. THEIR. WORST. LOOK. 1/10.

Next Her Swimwear:

It's kind of a mess but I kind of love it. I feel like it suits this new Tabitha. I don't have much to say other than it strangely works. 7/10.

Next Her Hot Weather:

Fuck right off. Daniel you know NOTHING about goths. This is horrible. This poor woman is going to feel so sticky and sweaty, and it wont even be worth it because this outfit is trash. Just no. 1.5/10.

Next Her Cold Weather:

I really like this. I love how throughout the outfit pink pops up, and I like that it makes sense for the category it's in. Good job Dan and Phil 9/10

That's it for Tabitha! For the most part her new outfits aren't bad. I like that they (unintentionally) gave her a pastel goth sort of vibe, I like that she does look like a streamer now, and I think the new tattoo is really cool. I will never forgive them for her party wear though. Moving on to Dalien.

Daliens Everyday:

This is fine. I wish the pants were the skinny jeans because those were more emo, and I wish he had black eyeliner. Overall it's not bad, but I prefer the original. Also they should have stuck with the purple highlights instead of changing them to red. 7.5/10

Next His Sportswear:

Ew ew ew. This is rancid. The hoodie makes him look bald, and I despise the ripped socks they gave him. I actually like the shorts though they remind me of something Phil would have had back in 2010, but even then working out in those shorts sounds like a nightmare. Other than the shorts this whole look is a wreck. 1.5/10

Next His Party Wear:

The outfit itself is okay but this is NOT Dalien. This looks like Dalien stole from a skater boy. They had the opportunity to go absolutely insane with this outfit. They could have given him crazy black makeup, a sheer shirt, some fishnets, and platforms, but instead they did this. It's lazy. It's not emo or goth or whatever they want him to be. 4/10

Next His Swimwear:

Jesus Christ. NO. Just NO. 1.5/10

Next His Hot Weather:

Why didn't they give him FISHNETS? Why did they choose those grandpa socks??? Why is EVERYTHING GREY BUT THE DRESS?? I think the idea of Dalien wearing a dress is cunty, but not like this. I feel like he would be a long skirt kind of guy. Also the cuff like glove things in the summer sounds horrible. 4.5/10.

Next His Cold Weather:

Again this is just a no. Nothing about this is emo or goth or whatever they want him to be. I like the jacket and the boots a lot; if they had put Dalien in some skinny jeans and removed that fucking hat this would have been okay. I mean this in a derogatory way, this is something Dan would wear. 5.5/10

That's it for Dalien. Overall it's just not good. Most of it makes no sense, and they also should have given him black eyeliner.

In conclusion, they really did the Howlters dirty. This is probably the ugliest dressed family I've ever seen. None of these outfits gave what they needed to give. Also this family is a sensory NIGHTMARE!

I hope whoever is reading this enjoyed this or atleast agrees with some of my points. Have a wonderful rest of your day, evening, or morning.

[an0thergl1tch]

Here are some sanderssides outfit headcanons because I’m gay :

Remus : Definetly had a pair of the Brendan Urie are you nasty booty shorts at some point in time. When alone this bitch either dresses like a emo slut, a toddler who decided to dress themselves for the day, a punk anarchist, or Adam Sandler, there is no in between. Janus has to convince him to put on pants when guests come over. “Who says I can’t wear converses with my dress.” Janus has to stop him from spontaneously cutting his hair or giving himself piercings so has a BUNCH of fake ones. Spends 10 minutes taking off all of his accessories. Puts in funky contacts to be edgy. Never throws old clothes out and thinks it looks punk despite there being very obviously not intentional large holes in them. Either extremely over or under dressed, If there’s a dress code, it’s ignored. Constantly wearing platforms. Definitely has tried to give himself a scar on his face because he thought it would look kickass, he no longer has access to knives. Randomly does sfx makeup to freak people the fuck out.

Janus : So much vintage wear. Definetly has a pin striped suit somewhere in his closet, dosent wear it because Virgil calls him the cat from Tom n jerry. Definetly has tea parties in renissance era dresses. Probably has one of those dramatic 60s newly widowed housewife robes that he wears while lounging with a glass of wine. Probably wore one of those androgynous suit dresses to Thomas’s prom, Roman was pissed because he looked better than him. Extremely overdressed, would wear red to a funeral. So many fucking hats, need I say more. Beauty is pain, there is no functionality, he can’t walk in half his outfits. Wears a lot of layers but actually has the excuse of being cold blooded.

Virgil : Oh so many bracelets, who gave him access to so many bracelets. Spends a solid 2 hours teasing his hair and putting makeup on every morning (this bitch is a GOD at eyeliner.) So many layers, you do not need to be wearing 3 hoodies at once. Somehow always cold despite having enough clothes on to survive in the artic. “Oh fuck one of my bracelets fell off.” Acts like he despises pink despite wearing neon pink raccoon tails during his college scene phase. Extremely underdressed unless he has the energy to dress as a Victorian vampire. Definitely experiments with goth makeup and clothing.

Patton : Its giving youth pastor. Owns every color of polo shirt. Wears aviators to look ‘hip’ and ends up looking like goose from top gun. Definetly has a leather jacket somewhere in his closet that he only wore to college parties to look cool (the obligatory dad mid life crisis leather jacket, probably worn and probably has seen some shit.) Constantly wears a tool belt or a Fanny pack, lord get this man a backpack. Had horrendous emo phase, good lord MySpace traumatized him. Definitely has a jersey and varsity jacket but actually IS into sports. Needs to get outfit tips because he will wear a polo shirt and cargo pants to every occasion. So many dad hats.

Roman : wears jerseys and varsity jackets despite not being into sports at all. Loves makeup but goes horribly every time he tries to do it on himself. Has to be held down to do eyeliner or mascara because he will NOT stop moving and complaining about you poking his eyes out. Loves being overdressed however half his wardrobe is costume pieces he pretends are high end items. So many rings and necklaces. “Buy me Prada” *is wearing thrift store jeans* Takes hours getting ready, getting dressed takes 10 minutes but he has to get his mindfulness meditation for the day in before he leaves. Definitely has a purse collection.

Logan : This dude probably has so much vintage clothing and historical pieces but is absolutely terrified to wear any of it and wrinkle anything. Has a tie collection (extremely obvious) however half of them are funky ties Patton spotted while shopping and gave to him. Has hundreds of the same shirt but tons of blazers and vests to spice things up a bit. Definitely has a collection of very high end leather shoes that he takes care of dearly and gets heavily pissed off if someone steps on them. So many cheesy nerd pun t-shirts that he wears exclusively in his room because Patton would freak the fuck out. Is tired of people calling him Steve Urkel or a newsie when he puts on suspenders. Practicality over looks, however makes a few exceptions (This bitch would look amazing in a corset.) Can run in heels and Roman is extremely jealous and terrified. Can do makeup surpisingly well.

[surferblues]

hi livy! congrats on 500💘 so honored to be mutuals i literally adore your writing! may i humbly request prompt ❛ i’m not wearing any underwear. thought you’d like to know. ❜ with Austin? so excited to read 🫶🏼

careless whispers ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

pairings austin butler x fem!reader

warnings 18+ only, minors dni, smut, choking, degrading kink, oral (m), and obviously sexual themes (duhhh) SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG THIS WAS AT THE BOTTOM OF MY DRAFTS 😭🫣

you and austin weren't anything to each other, well, at least not romantically. to put it lightly, you were friends who messed around.

friends who messed around in secret, because, god forbid anyone knew about this dirty friends with benefits situation you and austin agreed to.

it was always the same little game. you and austin would be out with all your friends and he'd suddenly slip his rough hands under the table to rub your thigh.

causing you to slap his hand away, even though your crimson red cheeks undeniably gave you away.

but that's what he liked about the whole situation - he loved how you got flustered and soft with every single touch.

He had you completely wrapped around his finger.

the room was fairly dark, the only source of light being the luminescent neon colors from screens and led lights - but aside from that, no one at this party would see what Austin was up to.

he knew not to be too bold, anyone in here would kill for a chance to expose something so scandalous - "costars who fuck on the low!"

pfft, what a flashy headline.

the only people aware of this sudden dynamic between you and Austin were your castmates and closest friends, aside from that - your's and Austin's publicists have been working their asses off.

Austin had been slyly making his way across the room, letting out small thanks and smiles as a-listers praised his acting in elvis. although his current destination had been far more important.

you were in the corner of the room, a small smile on your pink lips and a teasing glimmer in your soft eyes. your finger tips twirling with your locks of hair as you let out fake laughter.

you were oblivious to Austin's watchful eye, you were too busy giggling at the brunette beauty who was horribly attempting to flirt.

Austin watched every movement you've made since that wannabe a-lister walked over to you. jealousy was running through his veins as that guy leaned towards you, whispering in your ear - he was too close to you.

maybe this was how you ended up in this current situation. your knees on the cold tile floor, your tongue toying with austin's thumb as he looked down at you.

"your mouth is better for so many other things than talking." Austin's tone was as rough as his grip that his cold hand had as he gripped your cheeks, forcing you to meet his eyes.

“What’re you gonna do about it?” You challenged, inviting him to take what he needed.

"you're just begging to be punished, aren't you ?" He cooed as you looked up at him through your long lashes, nodding.

Austin reached  down and pulled at his pants to release his hardness, and brought a hand to the back of your head, ever so roughly pushing you towards it.

"c'mon, slut, don't be shy." he husked, gripping a handful of your hair and pulling it nearly out of your scalp as he positioned your lips to be on his hard dick.

Your tongue came out, to lick and tease his tip, your eyes never leaving his. A smirk of satisfaction spread on your lips as his head threw back and incoherent curses slipped from his lips.

Austin hissed at the contact, He grabbed himself at the base, rubbing the head of his cock in a circle on your lips before lifting his hips to enter. 

“you shouldn't get so jealous." you remarked, moving your wet tongue against his member. He then eased his cock into your mouth. You couldn't't help but to let out a cry of pleasure as his hard laid heavy on your tongue . Meanwhile, he groans at the feeling of your warm wet walls surrounding his cock. He could never get enough of how you felt around him.

your hands flew to his hips for support, while his back hit the hard wall behind him for support.

Austin let out breathless chuckles in disbelief, his tongue poking at the side of his cheek as he watched you with a focused sense.

"you shouldn't have been talking to him." he said sternly in between thrust in your mouth, and breathy whimpers. you were about to pull away from his dick, to let out a snarky response. but he pulled your head towards him before you could even try.

you let out a small grunt, his dick hitting the back of your throat. you continued your work on Austin's member, hallowing your cheeks around him as your tongue danced against his now-wet, velvety skin, moaning against him.

Soft grunts were erupting from Austin as he bucked his hips to meet your head bobs, your warm cheeks and spit nearly throwing him off of the edge. Tears began to slip from your eyes as his dick went deeper and deeper with every thrust .

He quickly pulled out of your mouth, not wanting to cum just yet, roughly grasping your chin before leaning down to collide his lips with yours. you gripped his blond lock, your tongues rolling against one another roughly.

your knees began to raise up from the ground, following his lips. you pulled away, breathless whimpers slipped from both of your lips.

"I'm not wearing any underwear.. just thought you'd like to know." you suggestively whispered against his lips, both of you chest to chest. he threw his head back, a playful smile on his lips as he processed your words.

"you're going to be the death of me." he murmured, pushing you against the wall with a reckless force. he was quick and messy, this time.

he nearly ripped your dress as he bunched it up your hips, the look in his eyes seemingly so urgent.  “Do you think you deserve this?” his tone demeaning as he finally met your eyes, his finger tips barely grazing your wet clit.

you opened your lips to speak, but as soon as your lips parted Austin pushed his lips roughly against yours while his duo of ring covered pushed into you, thrusting and curling upward as he leaned up to kiss you. your tongues collided as you kissed.

you let out a groan of annoyance, tired of the teasing. "please, stop teasing austin." you begged, reaching for his fingers but he pulled them away with a sly smirk.

"oh, baby im gonna fill you up so good." he cooed, gripping your hips so hard that you were sure you were going to have bruises.

he lined his dick with your needy hole, slowly and slowly pushing his dick along your wet slit. once he finally got to your empty hole, he slammed his hips into yours with ease.

the filthy action drove you crazy, and you whined, your hand wrapping around one of his biceps as you let him settle.

It didn't hurt, but God did you feel full. he pulled out once again, following back with another thrust. he lifted up one of your legs to his waist so he could reach that sweet spot of yours.

With your legs hooked around his waist, you pushed your pelvis up to meet each thrust, the breaths coming more and more shallow as he unconsciously began to move faster and harder within you.

you placed your hand over your mouth to silence your moans, because god forbid anyone heard what was going on behind closed doors.

you squealed as austin let out a loud groan, the two of you reaching your highs together. his hips stuttered while he kept thrusting inside of you, spurring you on as you came. your cunt squeezed him with a vice grip as if it wanted to cage him in.

his head dipping in the crevice of your shoulder as his lips parted and eyes shut. you could hear the sound of your juices mixing with each lazy thrust.

"if i see him with you again, ill beat his ass." austin murmured against your skin, letting out a croaky chuckle.

but his laughter couldn't disguise his seriousness , because you knew he would.

[roboticchibitan]

Photos of the pants! The top (which I also made, tutorial coming soon) kinda clashes but oh well I am living in neon colors and loving life!

I don't like how they fit so today I spent 2 hours grading the pattern up 5 inches. They don't look horrible but I wanted something looser and more flowy. I'm going to cut out the pieces for a turquoise pair and then call it a day because I didn't sleep well last night and I took a shower today and already stood for 2 hours straight so I need to pace myself.

I told myself I wasn't going to embroider any more pants cuz these ones took forever but I've decided to embroider black stars around the hems cuz stars go really fast and then I'll take some of the black cotton/linen blend I bought earlier this month and make a crop top and embroider turquoise stars on it so I have a coordinating outfit! I plan on using any leftover materials to make some coordinating crop tops using this tutorial so that I can mix and match my brightly colored tops and pants!

I'm working hard to get a bunch of projects finished so I can excuse buying this linen

To make another pair of pants and crop top set! I'm actually going to get the 7.5 oz version because my hot pink linen is 5.5 oz and it's slightly see through so I can't wear black bras or colored underwear underneath it.

OK. Going to go cut out the turquoise pieces! Wish me luck and less back pain!

[craftyballoonwinner]

Miquella the Streamer

I love the idea of Miquella being a streamer or Instagram influencer.

FYI Pro Miquella/Radahn

Definately posts beauty tips and reviews make up lines.

Has TWO channels. One for beauty and one for games.

Plays mostly RPGs, action or dating sims.

Always looks dressed to the nines and wears a crystal headset in gold cubic zirconia (or at least they hope it's fake)

Catch phrase "if it's gold it's good" even if said item is shit in game.

Does marathons for chairty that includes games he hates (usually with Radahn or Malenia)

Leda moderates his chat and has a zero strike policy.

His icon is a chibi face with the haligtree in the back.

Goes on multiple vacations and posts videos. Always talking to someone no one can see. Chat knows it's not Malenia, he shares the video with her when she's there with Finley.

Does not date although watchers can swear he sometimes looks/ talks to a man off screen and sometimes poses sexily and jokes to said man behind the camera.

Is non binary, loves pretty dresses and soft colors.

Sometimes shows up in drag persona St. Trina with purple highlights.

Can and will drag trolls expertly.

Has depression and mommy issues.

Will review red carpets while being dressed better than the attendees.

Can have a temper. His collaboration with Godrick the Golden will go down in history as the most angry he will ever get when Godrick told him Malenia got rotted because she's unhygienic and Limegrave viewers need to get off their asses and work.

sings well but refuses to do covers.

As his popularity rises so do the stalkers. Someone called Needle Knight really freaks him out.

Takes frequent brakes for all the trips he goes on but works hard to record so online posting doesn't stop while he's away.

Drives an expensive ass car ( he accidently pulled out the keys for a Lamborghini while search for lip balm in his purse) and viewers can sometimes spot several names brand purses in the background of his streams.

Uses an office, with a glowing neon sign of his channel and several high quality action figures of his favorite game on the shelf behind him.

Goes through a horrible break up and stops streaming when some named Starscoruge publicly states they miss him in chat while he struggles to get through Dark Souls 1. Chat talked about that for months on end. Starscourge is never seen again and no one knows who they are. They theorize he was the man Miquella talks to behind the camera.

Stops streaming when university starts. Comes back three months later when he flunked out and hated it.

Things get bad, chat starts to worry about his mental health and freak out when Marika posts an update that she will be closing down his channel for the safety of his mental health.

Is surprised when he comes back a year later on a new channel with a co host. Starscoruge Radahn (who runs gym, games and health channels under his Redmane name). Malenia will fill in when he can't stream with Miquella.

[huevobuevo]

Late ass FUCK and a HORRIBLE time to be posting but you would NOT BELIEVE which pairing I drew again .

I think‼️ there’s alotta potential ‼️ in Monte D’or’s‼️ midnight neon lighting‼️ that I need to EXPLOIT‼️sorry if it’s kinda sillay lookin I’m . still practicin playin with colors

[COMMISSIONS OPENbecause I keep forgetting to advertise that FUCK]

[chris-continues]

A Strange Encounter…

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Cyberpunk Edgerunners AU (Trigun)

Vash The Stampede/Reader

WORD COUNT: 740

Synopsis: you encounter a strange man amidst the bar you lounge around. He gives you a job offer..

The usual thrum of boisterous customers fills the Afterlife, the staccato tapping of your nails against the counter is partly what keeps you sane. The buzzing of the overheard lights, drunkards wrapping their arms around unsuspecting individuals,

Yet here you were. Alone.

Bass boosts with boisterous fun, some small girl causing a racket in showcasing the newest chrome in exchange for excited jeers and cheers of some sleazy men she’d catch the attention of.

“..poor thing, you know?”

A man sits at the barstool beside you, blonde hair tinged to different shades under the colored lighting of the club. A royal blue, as of now. His eyelashes flutter as his head cocks over to the girl, his eyes trailing after your previous gaze.

“Eh”, you shrug, “It’s how things are. Surely, you should know that?” You can feel your voice edging further into a drawl, observing him more. Big red jacket, large collar. Pretty plain. He’s a relatively organic guy save for his bionic arm, the ports available at his neck standard with no crazy enhancers. “Or.. not.” Your eyebrows furrow at this revelation.

He chuckles at that, “Haha, maybe!” Hand moving to scratch the scruff of his neck, ruffling his undercut in practiced fidgeting. “..just, tryna start something.” His gaze drifted from the sad, lone cup he held and up to you once more, brandishing a look you couldn’t quite place.

Something’s off about him.

You aren’t sure what.

…you can’t quite place.

A stagnant pause fills the gap in your sad excuse of a conversation. Words didn’t hold much value here, that was a common fact. Business did. Missions did. Money did. Take action, not a lame deal or quirky promise.

“Something?” You turn to him more, his previously despondent, solemn gaze flickering once more. Mirroring the neon lights surrounding every which way of the bar, reflecting in its pulsing energy that filled Night City as a whole. He piques your curiosity. Despite his lack of chrome and rather.. not immature qualities, but something remains. No guns blazing machine gun, gone crazy potential cyber psycho- just a guy.

He perks up noticeably, continuing. “Yeah! Got a few pals, and we’ve heard some of your work is… good..?” He trails off once more, gauging you for a reaction.

A job offer. Your eyes blink, fingers drumming against your leg as you take it into consideration. Work had been running low for you recently and you probably needed the gig, and.. the guy didn’t seem to untrustworthy. His hair shone a slight red with the change in hue of the lights, sweet smile painting his lips as his warm eyes looked to you expectantly. “I know it’s a bit much, but we’ve been looking into you for a few weeks and.. yeah.” He ends awkwardly, clearing his throat and turning his gaze elsewhere momentarily.

Well, there’s nothing better for you,

“I may as well. Sure.” You extend a hand in a formality here- a handshake- a sign of trust, perhaps, as he eagerly takes your hand in his and beams with a sort of ecstatic expression that’s rare here.

Strange. But not.. not entirely unwelcome.

“Great to hear! I’ll see you here tomorrow..?” He fidgets with his hands once more, holding them up to explain himself further in a slight panic, “Ah- they’re not all here today. We gotta call a bit ahead of time sometimes for hanging out here.”

Mm. Fair enough.

In Night City, everything was constantly moving. A never ending, unpredictable and most definitely not merciful cycle of perpetual turmoil and terror that consumed every resident. Desensitized.

What you were to be called for? That was probably no different. You worked as a getaway driver for said operations, having installed a built in nav system for yourself thanks to your absolutely horrible sense of direction beforehand- it took some saving up and not so legal deeds, but who really cared about the law down here anyway? In order to truly survive a few rules had to be broken, and you never… truly harmed anyone. Directly, at least. You minded your business and clients minded theirs, teammates minded theirs. There was no need to pry, that much was a lesson to be had for anyone who question such.

“Details coming in tomorrow?” And eddies, hopefully, you thought to yourself.

He nodded, smile turning sheepish. “I’ll uh, I’ll leave you be for now.”

And then he excused himself once more.

[lixenn]

I have some questions for Dave this time hehe

What was his first meeting with Chief like?

What was his original hair color?

I wonder if he gets along with Bel?

*crawls out of trenches, bloodied and covered in mud*

"I-" *huff* "I have fought in war and it was close but! I HAVE WON! The evil snippet has not defeated me!"

So now, I can finally answer this!! I'm sorry that it took so long Ein 🫠🥺🥺please forgive my tardiness 😣

Let me satisfy your curiosity!

Original hair color

Dave's hair used to be this really mousy brown and it just wouldn't do! No! He refuses! It was boring and common and absolutly clashed with his vibe so it needed to be adressed immediately. He bleached his hair the first time when he was 14 and it turned out horrible but he was still happy with his shitty dyejob because at least it was unique!

Dave and Bel

Do they get along? Ohhh boy, honey they get along like a house on fire! Dave and Bel often team up for pranks and mischief (Levi is one of their regular victims lol). Surprisingly Chief doesn't actually mind this relationship mostly because Dave tends to curb Bel's more ... homicidal tendencies. Dave prefers leaving his victims alive (though there's no guarentee for their sanity) mostly because killing them would limit his options for pranks. So when Dave and Bel plan mischief Dave puts his foot down about murder.

First meeting

As for that question....

Have a snippet!

The world is undoubtedly cruel. Criminally unjust. Life is filled with hurdles and hardships, with unimaginable challenges and dreadful chores.

Dan has been kicked out of his own office by an overly worried Lussuria.

(Honestly, the audacity of his doctor, the inhumanity. He is seriously considering a lawsuit.)

Apparently working for ten months straight without a break is “unhealthy” and “terrible for the skin, just look at those wrinkles Dani-boy”. Which is ridiculous in his humble opinion, he doesn’t have wrinkles. His skin simply has more character, more definition, that’s all. No wrinkles here, just a well-developed background story edged into his outer shell.

Nevertheless, Dan is left with no other choice than take the day off since he doesn’t want to deal with Lussuria drugging his tea again. One time was more than enough.

Well, at least he can use this opportunity to finally get some shopping done. His sister Is going to skin him alive if he shows up empty handed to her birthday again. Finding the perfect jewellery set to make up for his blunder took him some time but now he can at least cross that off his list.

He is slandering down the empty streets, enjoying the sunshine on his face, when his peaceful musings are interrupted by a body landing right in his path.

…

What?

Dan must have committed war crimes in his past life, it’s the only explanation. His former self probably kicked puppies for fun and slaughtered babies in their sleep because he can’t even take a stroll in the city without someone throwing bodies at his feet.

Puzzled and slightly annoyed Dan takes a closer look at the young man sprawled in front of him.

The first thing that catches his eye is the absolutely garish shade of neon green decorating the top of his head. Whoever did that dye job needs to be fired. His hair isn't the only thing that needed fixing though. He’s covered in bruises and dirt, blood is dripping from his nose and - Dan squints - is that a tooth on the pavement? Yes, it is. … Gross. Hopefully the guy knows a good a dentist.

The sound of footsteps alerts him to the arrival of even more people. Dan inspects the newcomers in irritation. There are three of them, all clad in ill-fitted suits, hair slicked back and fake gold rings on their fingers, making them look like stereotypical comic mafia goons brought to life. It would have been funny and something to laugh over with Squalo over coffee if said goons hadn’t interrupted his quiet afternoon with their petty disputes.

What a drag.

“You have five seconds.”

“Hah?” Goon #1 sneers at him, somehow turning even uglier in the process. “What do ya want, shrimp? Don’t ya see we’re a little busy here.”

Only sheer willpower prevents Dan from inspecting his nails in disinterest. Instead, he crooks an eyebrow, giving the idiotic trio his best deadpan fish stare.

“Three seconds.”

Goon #2 spots the Varia emblem on his hoodie and the Cloud clocks the moment he recognises what it stands for. He shakily points at Dan’s chest. “U-uhm… boss?”

“What?” Goon #1 snaps, but his gaze follows his friend’s finger and all colour leaves his face. “V-v-varia?”

Dan puts his hands in his hoodie pocket and smiles. “You rang?”

The way they freeze like a deer in the headlights. How they start quaking in their knock off designer shoes when realisations dawns upon them. The fear in their eyes.

Ah… making grown men piss their pants with a single look never gets old.

“By the way,” Dan drops his smile, his voice turning ice cold. “Your time is up. Better start running, boys.”

One would think that the Vendice are on their heels with how fast they scrammed.

Now, with that sorted.

Dan looks back the stranger who’s still lazing on the street. “You okay?”

“U-uhm yes…” he stutters with wide eyes that are filled with something uncomfortably close to awe. “Thank you so much.”

Feeling slightly awkward now, Dan avoids his shining gaze. “Don't mention it.”

“But-”

“Seriously don’t,” Dan interrupts him, combing a hand through his hair. He wishes this interaction was over already. He’s no good with shows of gratitude. “You should let a doctor check you over.” That should be enough polite concern, right? “I will be on my way then.”

Dan tries to speedwalk away to avoid further socialising but is hindered by a surprisingly strong grip on his hoodie.

Only his ingrained manners (thanks Mom) prevent him from breaking a hand and escaping anyways, which is probably for the best, the poor guy has enough injuries, no need to add broken bones to the list.

Dan turns around and sighs. “What is it?”

The young man gives him a solid try at puppy eyes. “What’s your name? I’m Dave by the way! You can’t just rescue me like a knight in shining armour and then disappear off into the sunset. That’s not fair at all.” He adds a pout to his pleading expression, which – in Dan’s humble opinion – just makes him look even more pathetic.

“Have you suffered head trauma recently?”

Dave cocks his head, confused. “I mean, one of them kicked my face for a bit but that was nothing, I’m good! They mostly focused on my upper body and limbs.” He lets go of Dan’s hoodie and lifts his shirt up to point at his battered torso in demonstration. “See?”

“Then, why are you spouting nonsense?” Dan takes a step back after he is freed from Dave’s clutches. “Run along and try to avoid getting beat up by shady men in the future.”

The puppy eyes start to fill with fake tears. “But they keep on finding me.”

Dan is suddenly overcome with a desperate need for coffee.

“And that’s my problem, how exactly?”

The responding grin sends shivers down his spine. It reminds him of Bel’s smug smile after he caught another one of his employees in his wire traps.

“Well, all your hard work would go to waste if they came back, wouldn’t it? So, how about you help a buddy out?” Dave winks and it would have been charming if his face wasn’t covered in dried blood. “You can start with your name and we will go from there.”

Dan barely lifted a finger, is this guy on crack? In fact… Is he trying to con him? This feels like a con.

Why did I even bother leaving my room today?

“Look, Dave,” he begins trying to salvage the situation, “if I tell you that Varia Housekeeping is always looking for new members, will you go away and let me enjoy the rest of my day off in peace?”

The other man’s jaw drops like Dan got on his knees and proposed instead of throwing in a job offer as distraction tactic.

Dan takes his surprise as an opportunity to exit the premises once again. This time he isn’t stopped physically but a broken “W-wait” still gives him pause and he reluctantly glimpses back. Dave has dropped his cocky façade leaving behind only shattered pieces and a tiny fragment of hope.

“Please. Tell me your name?”

His voice sounds fragile compared his confident tone before.

…

Dan has always been a sucker for the broken ones, hasn’t he?

Fuck it, in for a penny, in for a pound.

“You can call me Chief.”

---

Hope you liked the little sneak peak into Dave's mysterious past 😊! Honestly the delay was mostly because that meeting was fighting me with tooth and nail but I managed to get it done!

I feel like I wanted to add something else but I forgot because goldfish brain lol

Anyways keep being awesome like the legend you are Ein!! Hopefully I could brighten your dim days in study hell 💕✨😊

[yourfatherlucifer]

Outlaw! Kim Hongjoong x Reader

Outlaw!Hongjoong x afab!reader

Summary: In a dystopian world, where you crave an escape, a man offers you it with no strings attached.

——————-

Nobody wanted to be in this dystopian world, you’re not allowed to show emotions, no music, no laughter, nothing. With drones flying around the city, watching every persons move. There’s a story about a group of outlaws, wanted by the government. The leader is Kim Hongjoong, an outlaw and also a good shot. A man with blue hair and good looks but feared by all, his own group too.

Now her. She is ordinary, working an office job, then going home, sleep, and repeat. She had felt as there was a no meaning to her life. Absolutely nothing to it. No love life, no joy. It’s not like you’re allowed to have those anyway. However, she craved it, she needed it.

-

“God, I hate this job,” she had muttered to herself, slightly glancing at the camera, glaring at it.

Though, one wrong move could have her disappear without a trace, no one would know where she went, but would know it’s the government. Meaning she is probably dead.

With a glance away from camera, she sighed in frustration before finishing up her report for the day. She stared at the clock. It was time to go. She tried to hide her excitement to the best of her ability, there was too many people and too many government drones around. Someone who was not a drone was bound to turn her in; if she showed just an ounce of emotion.

As she walked to the door she stared at the WANTED posters once again, it became a habit for her everyday. She wished she could be a rebel but she was just to scared to do anything against the government. Maybe just maybe, if she knew that she had potential, she could actually do something for this horrible dystopia. She left the building with a sigh. Staring up at the night sky, all she could see were the red light posts. Why couldn't they just be regular light colors? Like yellow or white. Not a scary red. But it was just this area that had red light.

As she walked down the road, more WANTED posters appeared on the barren walls of the creepy buildings. She had never seen these people in person but she remembers a day where music blasted through the area. A spiky blimp dropping papers, which she didn't grab as she was scared. She had heard that was the work of the group of Outlaws.

A shiver chilled down her spine. Was she being watched? She sure felt like it.

"Hello? Is someone there?" She called out into the darkness in front her, a creepy alley. Now she felt stupid for saying anything but she wasn't about to let herself be attacked blindly.

As she was about to leave she heard a voice call out from behind. "I noticed you are always staring at my group pictures?" The voice revealed itself from the shadows, however a bandana covered his lower face.

She gulped in fear, as she had never been face to face with an outlaw, especially the leader of it.

Kim Hongjoong.

"I-I...I need to go." She prepared to run, but was stopped.

"Stop. Do not move, get back over here." His soft voice disappeared and turned into a dominant one.

She slowly approached him, head down and a hard grip on her backpack strap.

"I know you are scared, but its alright, I'm not going to do anything, I need you to come with me." His gloved hand reached out her, "Please."

She hesitantly grabbed his hand and followed him into the dark alley, not exactly trusting him but giving him a chance.

Hongjoong had led her to a building with a lit neon green sign on the roof. It had read, 'The Goat Entrance' whatever that meant.

As he lead her to the rooftop, where a goat was sleeping. Odd.

He turned to her, "What can you sacrifice? What can you throw away?"

She became confused, "I'm sorry?"

"I want you join the rebellion, you'd be a good member, I can see the potential in you."

Her life flashed before her eyes, a numb and boring life. She had no one, she was tired of the government, her damn office job too. Maybe she should do this? She doesn't think her life matters away. She knew she could fight, it was something her dad had taught her before he passed away in an underground boxing match.

"Fine, I will join you, I have nothing to lose anyway."

A smirk appeared on his face, "Good, good."

"Welcome to the Outlaws, Miss ...what is your name?" Hongjoong cocked an eyebrow.

She snapped her head up, "Oh, my name is (name)."

He smirked again, "A pretty name, but I'm gonna call you doll, you'll get a codename for when we are out an about."

Hongjoong just knew she had to be his, he had been watching her for awhile. He knew of her father as he has a partner in the underground boxing business. One of his outlaw group members was in it.

Oh he had major plans for this girl, she was destined to be his. His only. Screw the goverment. He's fighting for everything else, why can't he fight for love too?

-

Hongjoong rested his hand on her lower back, inching her forward, what he didn't see is the red creeping up her face.

"Yah, everyone pay attention." Seven heads shot up as they were working on their own various things, each person dressed either similar or differently.

Each guy smirked, "Oh captain, did you get yourself a play thing?"

Hongjoong glared at him and he lowered his head in shame. "Sorry, Joong."

He cleared his throat once more, "No, she isn't my play thing, she's a new member, she will be part of the rebellion. And I don't want a single one of you flirting with her." He gave a look to all seven men that read, 'she's mine'

They all nodded and turned away to continue their duties.

"Come on, let me take you to the rooftop, its my favorite place, as you had saw from the last place.

-

The sun had set, casting a warm orange glow over the dark city. The tension between you had been building for weeks, and tonight, it reached its peak.

Hongjoong's intense gaze locked with yours, his eyes filled with a mix of desire and uncertainty. Slowly, he closed the distance between you, his hand gently cupping your cheek. His touch sent shivers down your spine, and you couldn't help but lean into it.

As his lips brushed against yours, time seemed to stand still. The world around you faded away, leaving only the two of you in this stolen moment. His kiss was soft yet passionate, a perfect blend of tenderness and longing.

You melted into his embrace, your arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him closer. The taste of adventure and danger lingered on his lips, making your heart race even faster. It was a kiss filled with unspoken promises and a shared understanding of the risks you both took.

The kiss deepened, becoming more urgent and desperate. Hongjoong's hands roamed your body, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. Every touch, every caress, ignited a flame within you, fueling the desire that had been building between you.

Eventually, the need for air forced you to break the kiss, but the connection between you remained unbroken. Hongjoong rested his forehead against yours, his breath ragged as he whispered, "I've wanted to do that for so long."

You smiled, your heart still racing. "Me too."

In that moment, you both knew that this kiss was just the beginning of a wild and dangerous love story, where every stolen moment would be cherished, and every risk would be worth it.

[lover-of-skellies]

What about Fresh Sans?? lmao

Fresh gets a smooch-ability rating of 4. There's a fair amount of risks involved because he's so unpredictable, but if you want a more in depth explanation on the rating itself, you can find it below the cut

1) How dangerous is Fresh's mouth? His teeth aren't sharp or jagged at all by any means and they're flat, so one would assume his mouth is safe. Parasite aside, I'm giving his mouth itself a 2 for safety. I will talk about the parasite too, but it'll be in another section

2) Would Fresh bite? If he felt like being a heathen, then yes, I'm convinced he would. It completely depends on the circumstances and if he wants to get a reaction out of you. Is he aggressive? Well, we've seen how he interacts with others in Underverse. While it seems playful and lighthearted, everything he does happens for a reason. He's got ulterior motives and things you don't know about going through his head, and if he thought he needed to be aggressive for whatever reason, he's more than willing and capable of doing so. All things considered, he gets no points for this

3) Are there any health hazards to the smoocher? If you remember the fact that he's a weird little parasite that hijacks people's bodies, then yes, that in and of itself poses a threat to the smoochers wellbeing. Due to how having your mouth too close to his for too long could lead to your body being hijacked and him being an untrustworthy little turd, he gets 0 points for this one

4) Does he have a sympathetic backstory? From what I understand, he's literally just this weird parasite who popped into existence at one point, and decided to make it everyone else's problem. So no, his backstory isn't very sympathetic. He doesn't even have the capacity to feel guilt or sadness over what he does to people; he can only mimic those feelings based on what he's seen and read, which makes his entire story even less sympathetic. I love him, but I'm forced to give 0 points again

5) Does he deserve a smooch? Body hijacking, blatant lying, occasional manipulation and tampering with other people's things, then harassing others for the lolz already make him undeserving (to me), but the cherry on top is his gremlin behavior. While it's funny to watch it happen to other people, you probably wouldn't enjoy it very much if it happened to you, repeatedly, without rhyme or reason, and at random times without warning. 0 points, once again

6) Is Fresh cute or cool? His colorful outfits are pretty eye bleeding and his particular dialect and way of speaking is obnoxious at best, and completely incomprehensible and infuriating at worst. He's not necessarily a cutesy character, and his design gives me a headache to look at with all the clashing colors and neons, but I do love it, oddly enough. I have no idea why, either. His design is a very distinct one and its entirely unique to him, and he's very entertaining and spontaneous. While I wouldn't wanna deal with him myself, I do enjoy reading things or looking at art or other media that he's in. So for this, I'll give 2 coolness points

Fresh's smooch-ability rating is 4. If it's your first time meeting him, you'll be getting a smooch either way. If you've already met him, then a smooch would either make him mentally blue screen for a moment, before he cracks some kind of weird joke about it or not-so-subtley tells you not to do it again. If it goes horribly wrong at any point, you could be really badly hurt or lose your body to a purple starfish looking parasite. That risk doesn't really seem worth it to me, but hey, it's on you if you wanna take the gamble and plant a smooch on him