#footwear dies

[rainbow-femme]

Nathan was really barefoot in his murder basement that probably hadn’t been cleaned since he went to prison

Feet out in front of god and everyone while holding a heavy and sharp object he had not handled in a while and could have easy smashed his bare ass feet with while trying to catch and chop up a div 1 athlete

Just fully toes out to kill his son

[eastoncowan]

one of my hockey boy classmates gave me a nickname today :) from now on i will only respond to ‘trailblazer’ :)

[littlefeelgood]

Scarpes Diem

[sa-bo]

If only Sabo and Ace had seen Luffy's journey, how their idiot crybaby weak little brother withstood more pain and heartache and rage than ever conceivable and yet stood back up and smiled after the battle was won. It makes me sick thinking about it

[ericscroptop]

Smokey And Sweet

✧ pairing: neighbor! lee jeno x fem! reader

✦ genre: smut

✧ warnings: 18+ (minors DNI), mentions of food and eating, mentions of death (no actual people die/have died), smoking from jeno & reader (cigarette), cursing, teasing, car sex, semi-public sex (oops), missionary, big d!ck jeno, fingering, protected sex, slight corruption kink, dirty talk, praising, pet names, some drool & spit, kissing, shy reader when it comes to godly men like lee jeno, slightly bad-boy jeno but more so his aura, reader & jeno are in their early 20s

✦ word count: 11.6k words (i literally couldn’t stop)

✧ synopsis: new boy next door takes an interest in you and decides to take you as a warm welcome into town.

ﾟ+..｡*ﾟ+ ﾟ+..｡*ﾟ+ ﾟ+..｡*ﾟ+ ﾟ+..｡*ﾟ+ ﾟ+..｡*ﾟ+ ﾟ+..｡*ﾟ+

Winter had said its goodbye weeks ago, and now, it has fully transitioned into Spring.

With Spring having sprung, the environment has come back to life and everything is blooming once again.

You can now enjoy hearing the sweet songs from the birds chirping proudly every day. You can savor the sunshine and natural light for much longer now due to the time being pushed forward an hour. And, the weather isn’t bitterly cold anymore so you could actually go outside having your skin exposed without your body tingling, stinging, and shivering.

Though, there were still downsides to Spring that you loathed— such as torrential downpours, freshly awoken wasps and bumblebees, and random sneezing fits from pollen. But on days like today where the air felt so fresh outside and you frankly had nothing better else to do, the outdoors called to you.

You desired to spend your leisure time this evening outside. Maybe you’d even decide to buy a treat from the ice cream truck that drove past your neighborhood almost daily now that the weather was warmer. You relish in just the thought of enjoying your first ice cream this season from the cute truck. You’d definitely buy one.

With the weather just right, you chose to wear a simple oversized t-shirt and your pair of frilly-ruffled, black and white polka dot shorts, along with your go-to comfortable footwear. Perfect for lounging out in the breezy and warm weather.

Deciding to sit on the tailgate of your dad’s pickup truck while you wait, you scroll mindlessly through your phone with your wallet by your side.

Although your face was trained on your phone instead of enjoying the outdoors peacefully, at least you were outside instead of cooped up in indoors.

In the midst of the sounds of nature, from wind blowing the trees to birds singing, you hear the sound of your neighbors’s door swing open. Though, you refrain yourself from allowing your eyes to follow the sound, trying to ignore their presence even though curiosity fills you.

This past week, a new family had moved into the house next to yours. It had been vacant and up for sale for awhile, as the previous owners decided to relocate elsewhere.

You’ve seen the movers and had your fair share of brief glimpses towards the house, but you tried your best to ignore and avoid them.

Although your whole life your neighbors have been unproblematic and greet your parents every-so-often, you weren’t someone who enjoyed small talk and acted ‘neighborly.’ You lived in your own bubble, and were too shy in even sparing a greeting to your neighbors.

That may seem a bit bitchy, but you just felt awkward and never really knew what to say. It felt easier just minding your own business.

You probably should work on your social skills. Maybe then you’d actually have something to do instead of sitting alone outside like a loser waiting for some ice cream— at your grown age.

With your attention directed towards your phone, you don’t notice that it is a boy that comes out of the door.

Said boy walks out of his house and lets out a deep sigh with both hands on his hips as he stands on his porch.

Honestly, Jeno didn’t really know how to feel about the move. His parents had decided to move out of the big city he’s known and loved his entire life, and ditch it for this unknown-small town he has to call home now.

While he’s in his early twenties and fully capable of living on his own as an adult, he just graduated college and rent was fucking expensive these days. For the time being, it was easier to move and live with his parents until he found a job and could start saving for his own place.

There was nothing wrong with adults living with their parents, anyways. There were upsides and downsides to it— as there were with practically anything. But it’s what will work for now.

It just sucks that he had to leave everything he’s ever known behind and start over. But life’s all about growing and new adventures— at least, that’s what the older adults say. He just has to learn to adapt to his new environment and embrace change.

He’s been unpacking boxes and organizing his new room all day. It was now around 6pm, and he’d been in the house all day doing labor and cleaning. After being stuck indoors all day, he figured it was time for a break to go for a short drive or maybe get food someplace.

As he stepped out his front door and stood on the porch, he looked towards his left and noticed your figure.

A girl, he thought. He hadn’t really gotten a chance to even notice any of his neighbors or surroundings fully, as he was too immersed in helping his parents settle into their new home and couldn’t keep his attention on anything outside of moving in.

From his porch he could see your figure swaying your head faintly from side to side, legs swinging back and forth in the air over the cracked concrete of your driveway. You were in your own world, phone in hand and sat by your lonesome self.

How cute, he thinks. He probably looks like a freak just staring at your form, but he glances around the street fleetingly and it doesn’t seem like anyone else is out right now. You don’t seem to notice his presence watching you— or at least, maybe you’re pretending you don’t.

You peak his interest suddenly. He wonders what you’re like and from this distance, he can see that you’re definitely an adult like him. Maybe you’re around his age. He could use a friend or at least, know someone in this foreign town.

He gives himself an internal pep-talk of confidence to walk up to you. You’d start seeing each other almost daily now that you’re neighbors, and he doesn’t think he can stay unacquainted with you. So he strides his way towards your house to introduce himself like a gentleman.

While engrossed in whatever nonsense you’re watching on your phone, you begin to detect movement from your peripheral, as well as hear shoes scraping against the concrete.

Your eyes slightly widen at that, sensing a complete stranger coming towards your direction. It wasn’t everyday someone decided to approach you suddenly. Your body stilled and you found strength to raise your head, locking eyes with what seems to be a handsome man.

He brings a hand up and waves, continuing walking up to you until he’s like only 6 feet away.

“Hey— sorry to bother you, but I came to introduce myself. I’m Jeno. I just moved in next door.” he shoots you a smile.

“Oh— hey! Yeah, it’s nice to meet you.” you awkwardly get up to stand on your feet and extend an arm out.

“I’m Y/n. Welcome to the neighborhood!” you put on your best smile as he takes your hand to shake it firmly, practically blacking out mentally as you cannot believe this is a real scene playing out.

You’re left utterly dumbfounded once you took a good gander at this guy.

There was a contrast to him. His skin was pretty much bright and his beauty could light up darkness and draw irresistible attention to him, but he was also kind of shadowy in a way. Although he greeted you with a smile that reached his eyes, he seemed to have this intimidating presence to him.

Maybe you’re just saying that because anyone who’s attractive to you intimidates the fuck out of you. But he seems to ooze natural confidence and appeal. His features were sharp, and he just had this indescribable aura to him that made you weak. You couldn’t pin point what it was.

It didn’t help that he was cool enough to rock an undercut, seeing it peeking through slightly from his right side of face. Not to mention, you couldn’t help but shift your eyes down for a second to look at his almost-exposed chest, first few buttons of his dark flannel left undone.

His dark eyes, dark hair, and dark shirt contrast with his light blue baggy jeans and kind smile, making your skin heat up from his presence, even in the midst of a breeze passing through.

But anyways— your new neighbor is a hot man that decided to come over and greet you. If that’s not a moment in history, then you don’t know what is.

The smile on his face doesn’t falter one bit as you greet him back, feeling your smaller, slightly wobbly hand shaking his own, and sees the slight tint of pink coloring your cheeks. Was it from the weather or his abrupt approach? He’s not sure. And neither are you.

“Thanks. I— uh, actually noticed you were sitting out here alone. Figured I’d come introduce myself. Since I’m new to this town, I don’t know anyone.” he admits.

Your lips parted as you attentively listened to his every word, arms crossed. You let out a chuckle as he finishes, “To be honest with you, i’m not really familiar with anyone else in this neighborhood— and i’ve lived on this street my whole life.” you laugh at yourself, shaking your head as you look around at nothing in particular sheepishly.

Your words and quiet laugh only makes his smile bigger. “Yeah? Maybe I could be your first neighbor-friend.” Jeno smirks at you, his hands shifting around in the pockets of his jeans.

The dopamine releasing from your brain causes you to feel giddy and it feels like butterflies are fluttering inside your stomach from excitement and coyness. You’re gushing internally at the fact that God himself has sent you a cute neighbor— one who had the urge to come over and is showing interest in you.

You only know his name and your delusional-self is already mentally planning your future with him.

“I could definitely use a friend.” your smile is genuine as you tell him, showing courtesy to your new neighbor.

You see the smile reach to his eyes again, meeting your gaze before he looks down at his own feet while grinning, making you look away shyly.

God, you felt like a teenager again.

“Do you care if I sit out here with you? I don’t really have anything better to do.” Jeno speaks. He really wants to get to know you and waste no time. You seem very sweet, and like he said, he actually doesn’t have anything better to do. (He still had some unpacking left to do unfortunately, but he needed a damn break.)

You can feel your heart rate increase and a flash of heat hits you at his words, feeling flustered that your peaceful evening has unexpectedly taken a turn.

“Of course! I could use someone to keep me company.” you say, still feeling flushed.

You pushed your rear back onto the truck’s tailgate and Jeno follows suit. He takes a seat next to you, making you hold back a giggle at how the truck lowered for a moment due to the extra weight now added.

“So… you were just out here chilling alone?” he queries with both arms outstretched behind him, leaning back a bit and making himself comfortable.

“I actually came out ‘cause I wanted some ice cream. Now that it’s warmer out again, a truck usually passes by everyday.” you begin to swing your legs like you were earlier as you continued. “I’m grown as hell waiting for the ice cream man by myself. Can you believe that?” you laugh.

Jeno finds your demeanor endearing. How you’re just out here innocently waiting for some ice cream. And the way that you seem like a ball of sunshine. You’re unintentionally stirring his emotions with sudden fondness and attraction towards you.

“Hey, that’s cute. And, now you have company to wait alongside you.” he states, his eyes stuck on you as he spoke.

Your cheeks must’ve been permanently stained pink since he’s made himself known. His natural charm and solely being in the presence of an attractive male has your palms sweaty and senses tingling.

“So why’d you move here?” you attempt to make conversation, trying to push pass the fact that he basically called you cute and is sitting directly next to you.

He inhales some air and huffs it out deeply before speaking. “Parents wanted to settle in a smaller town now that they’re getting older. We lived in the city my whole life, but my parents wanted a change. Plus, my dad runs an auto repair shop, and he had the grand idea of extending his business here, so… yeah.”

“I just graduated college a while ago, too. You’d think that I would have my own place and not be packed up alongside my parents, but i’m trying to figure out what I wanna do. Rent’s too expensive in the city, anyways. I have friends I could’ve moved in with to split rent, but since we all graduated, we all are doing our own things and they have their partners and stuff.” he continued.

“S’ry for rambling. I’m just dumping all this shit on you.” Jeno shakes his head, scoffing at his own rant. The last thing he wants is for you to think he’s looking for pity and seem lame.

“Nooo— it’s okay. I asked you a question and you answered it. Sounds like there’s so much change in your life recently. It would only be natural to feel sour or uncertain about your current life. I know it’s probably not ideal, but I hope you adjust well here.” you offer him an empathetic smile, trying to assure him that his feelings are valid.

Jeno looks at you, intrigued and taken aback by your words. He wasn’t expecting you to respond with something that suddenly made his heart stir.

He isn’t one to get sappy or ever seeks for people to comfort him. He wasn’t even asking for sympathy. You were just kind enough to offer him some touching and uplifting words.

The ends of his lips curl at your tenderness. “Wow… do you always say such nice things to people you barely know?” he decides to tease you.

Your face grows hot, laughing nervously as you speak, “What? I’m just telling you what I think.” you pause for a couple seconds before continuing, “Moving can be mentally and physically taxing. Change is never easy. Especially as a young adult, we’re still trying to figure everything out. So I feel for you.”

“There you go again.” Jeno can’t help but smirk, eyes falling to his own lap, hands clasped together.

“You majored in psychology or something? Your words are naturally comforting.” he chuckles.

You scoff at that. “I’m actually in community college— and undecided.”

He hums at your response, finally learning something about you.

“Well, i’m sure you’d be good in any career field. You sound very mature.”

You pursed your lips to the side, feeling flustered at all these small compliments he’s throwing your way. He’s probably just being nice, but he’s probably thinking the same about yourself towards him. Though, you were a very compassionate person. Your words were earnest.

And his own words carried much weight to your brain, especially because it was coming from a man. A very attractive one, at that.

“I dunno, I was just being real.” you brushed his comment off.

“Nah, you’re definitely a smart girl. Come on now.” Jeno tilts his head at you, staring at you attentively.

He’s wondering what goes on in that pretty little head of yours. He has the urge to figure you out. Jeno isn’t stupid and realizes the effect he has on girls merely from his looks. Call him cocky or whatever, but it’s not a secret that girls easily gravitate towards him.

Though, you’re currently bringing him a different vibe. He’s already gathered that you’re sweeter than a Pop-Tart. And a bit bashful.

Girls are usually so quick to be flirty towards him. Not that he doesn’t like that— he actually loves when girls are bold and quick to get things swinging. But you’re offering him something new, even within the couple of minutes you’ve known each other. He’s definitely interested in you.

You can sense his pair of eyes on you, but you can’t bring yourself to look at him. Your vision lies straight ahead, trying to remain composed after hearing him compliment you as you stare at the house across from yours. How is this man still talking to your ass? You wondered.

You can’t even come up with a response before your ears pick up on that familiar tune of the ice cream truck, sounding closer and closer every second.

“It’s coming,” you lift yourself off the tailgate, wallet in hand as you approach the end of your driveway towards the road.

Jeno follows your lead and trails behind you, joining you as the truck comes to a halt in seeing you both.

He watches as you greet the driver and look over the menu momentarily, eventually deciding on a regular-sized Italian ice— flavor of your choice.

You then turn to look at Jeno, smile taking over your features charmingly.

“Do you want anything?” you ask him.

Jeno secretly does have a big sweet tooth, so he refuses to pass up on a treat of his own. “Yeah, i’ll have the same as her.” he announces and smiles at the worker.

You fiddle with your wallet, scrambling to fish out a couple dollars while your treats are being prepared. Though, it seems like you’re beat to covering for the both of you, eyes looking up to the sight of Jeno handing the worker some cash.

“I got it.” he says like nothing to you, happily paying the man in the truck.

You’re left confounded, not expecting him to even have his wallet on him.

Your mouth is slightly parted at his sudden act, ponderously putting your money back in your wallet. You can’t even protest as the transaction was already made.

Jeno hands you your treat with a spoon and grabs his own, both of you thanking the driver and walking back to your dad’s tailgate as the ice cream truck drives away, music now growing distant.

“I was gonna pay for us, y’know?” you say as you sit back down, Jeno doing the same.

“It was only a couple bucks. Plus, i’d never let a girl pay.”

You look down at your Italian ice in hand, poking at it with your spoon in other hand.

“Yeah, but we just met. You’re the new neighbor, shouldn’t I be the one treating you?”

“Your company is more than enough.” he simply replies before bringing his spoon to his mouth, head turned in your direction.

His words make your heart begin to thud erratically in your chest, heat rising all-throughout your body, and you’re left tongue-tied.

You’re still twiddling with your semi-frozen treat, mind and body fuzzy. You’re focused on his comment, the fact that he paid, and the innocent moment of you two enjoying ice cream next to each other here— outside your house.

You feel like you’re squirming on the inside, not knowing what to do with Jeno’s kind presence. He’s your neighbor now. How are you supposed to live now that you have an incredibly beautiful and charming man living next door to you?

“You like playing with your food before you eat?”

“Huh? Oh— my bad.” Jeno rips you away from your ruffled thoughts about him, now feeling embarrassed at how your head is already spinning and going dumb from someone you just met.

A nervous chuckle leaves your throat, finally digging for your first bite while Jeno was on his nth spoonful. You pop the spoon filled with ice cream into your mouth, tastebuds absorbing the deliciously creamy and smooth consistency.

“How is it?” he asks, eyeing you as you enjoy your first taste.

“It’s so sweet. Really good.”

“Definitely.” Jeno says, nodding his head in agreement. Though, he’s not sure if he’s referring to the ice cream or you.

You guys finished up your treats and talked about various topics, slowly getting to know each other better. You even started to loosen up a bit more, feeling just a tiny bit more comfortable the more you two conversed.

“You know, I’m a real huge car guy.”

“Really? I’m honestly not surprised.���

“Why?”

“‘Cause it seems like every guy these days is a ‘car guy.’” you sneered.

He scoffs after listening to you. “Well, since my dad’s a mechanic, he’s taught me almost everything I need to know about cars. It’s practically in my veins.”

“Trust me, I am practically infatuated with cars. I used to dream of becoming a F1 driver.” he clicks his tongue.

“Woah, what?! So with cars, do you like the mechanics of it all, or do you really just like showing off how fast you can go?” you cock your head at him, asking curiously with a hint of tease in saying the latter.

“Both. I like working hands-on with cars and having the knowledge to perform car maintenance. It also feels personal cause’ since my dad’s a mechanic, he passed down his love for cars to me.”

“I also love the control I can have while driving. It can be exhilarating when you’re going hella fast. Especially when your car’s all nicely polished and sleek— it’s the best.”

“Damn. You really are passionate, huh? That’s actually really dope.”

“I am.” he smirks, amused that you’re interested in hearing about his interests. Like, you actually are having a conversation with him and are seriously listening to him.

Meanwhile, it’s such a breath of fresh air for you to listen to him speak about his passions and have personality to him. He wasn’t dry or giving you half-assed anything— and he was respectful, making you swoon and happy to have met someone like him.

The sun was beginning to set as you two got loss in conversation, the sky painted in a warm hue.

“Let me go throw these away.” you gather your now-empty foam cups and plastic spoons, grabbing them and getting up to throw them in your trash bin.

“Thanks.” Jeno gets up shortly after you do, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“I should be the one thanking you— for the ice cream.” you now stand in front of him, arms crossed behind your back with a hand resting over your wrist.

“It was only a couple of bucks, no biggie like I said.” he assures you.

You smile, the apples of your cheeks more prominent as you can’t hold back in how wide it becomes due to his kindness. You stand meekly, figuring that this is the part where you bid one another goodbye and go inside your separate homes.

Although he literally lives next to you and you’d be seeing him frequently, you don’t want your time together to end just yet. He’s pulling you in like a magnet. You’ve felt lonely lately, and Jeno’s company was the best unexpected gift you could ever ask for.

And it seems like he’s thinking the same.

“Hey— I was thinking now would be a perfect time to drive around for a bit. I’ve been stuck at home all day and could go out for a bit. Would you like to come with?”

Your brows lift slightly, caught off guard by his invite. You didn’t expect to spend your evening with a man outside your house, and now, said man is asking you out for a drive.

“Only if you want to, of course. It’s totally fine if you don’t want to or—“

“No!— let’s do it.” you interrupt him, rather eagerly. You stare at him with a twinkle inside your eyes, mirroring Jeno’s own, eyes dreamy as he looks at your figure.

You might be some trouble for him, and you’re definitely feeling the same about him. The magnetism between you two is strong. Each of you look at one another in admiration and thoughts about anything else are practically nonexistent. It was purely curious attraction. Like a moth to a flame.

You’re honestly not sure if it’s the smartest idea to be getting in a vehicle with a guy you haven’t even known for 24 hours. You know your parents would literally be up your ass if they knew, and the anxious side of you is lowkey freaking out internally, already playing out multiple scenarios.

But you oddly trust Jeno. He seems to find solace in your presence. You each agreed that you were friends now. You hardly got out of the house anyways— you definitely needed this. And you’re an adult, so who cares?

“Alirghty then, are you ready to go?”

“Yeah, i’m good to go.”

With that, Jeno leads the way into his new property. His left hand digs into his left pocket and pulls out a pair of keys, walking to the driver’s side of what seems to be his car.

The sight of his car definitely confirms that he’s a serious car guy. You’re not too familiar yourself on the technical terms or remember model names, but his car is black, windows were tinted, and it’s glossy. It looked almost brand new, smooth and sexy— dare you say. It suits him well.

He unlocks his car and lets you know you’re able to get in, and so you open the passenger door and seat yourself inside.

A subtle musky fragrance fills your nostrils immediately as you settle in. The interior of his car smells clean and fresh, mellow undertones within the scent. Not strong, but pleasant and fitting.

Jeno also settles in his vehicle, starting up the engine as you each put on your seatbelts.

“Don’t worry. I know I said I like going fast, but I follow the law. It’ll be a nice drive.” Jeno suddenly says, looking over his shoulder as his right hand takes hold of the gear shift. He puts the car in reverse, using his left hand to steer the wheel.

You sit idly as he cranes his neck slightly to look behind, making sure the street is clear as he makes exit from his driveway. He smoothly reverses, and begins to drive down the street.

Your hands are folded in your lap, and you begin to play with them out of suspense from what is to come during this drive with Jeno.

You’re fortunate that your parents are out of town right now, so they don’t really have to question your whereabouts.

Though, you’re thinking about how you’re alone in the car with a guy you just met. It had been so long since you hung out with a male like this. You couldn’t help but already feel some type of way towards Jeno. Your senses heightened within his presence. Maybe it’s because you still don’t really know too much about him, but you also think it’s because his attractiveness daunts you.

Perhaps you’re already developing a crush.

“Got anywhere in particular you wanna go? I don’t really mind; I’ll let you take the reins.” he halts his car at a stop sign, then turns to smile at you.

“Honestly, there’s really not much to do in this town. People usually go goof around the grocery stores for entertainment. That’s how dry it is here.” you tittered.

“Though, there’s a school a few blocks away from our street that I walk to occasionally when I want to clear my mind, and I usually just roam leisurely around there. Since it’s practically right next to a nice neighborhood, lots of people go on walks or bike rides around, and kids play after school hours.” you internally facepalm yourself once you finish talking. He probably is gonna think you’re so lame and that you clearly don’t go out much. A school? Really?

“We can go there. Sounds chill to me, if that’s okay with you?”

“Yeah! I’m good with that.” you’re relieved to see that he seems on board with your idea. He seemed to be pretty laidback and easygoing, leaving you feeling safe.

You direct him to the location, and he notices that there’s no music currently playing.

“Wanna connect your phone to play some music?”

“Oh no, that’s okay. You can play whatever.” you kindly smile.

“I listen to the same songs practically everyday. It’s getting old. How about you put on something, I could use something new.”

You feel a bit shy in sharing your music taste, but you see that he won’t take no for an answer. You give in and he helps you in connecting to the Bluetooth. A R&B playlist is what you settle for, as most of the songs in your curated playlist were comforting, catchy, and relaxing.

As the music’s going, you feel flushed and can’t reject the smile that creeps on your face as a favorite song of yours comes on. You notice from your peripheral Jeno nodding his head to the beat of the track, making you fix your attention to simply staring out the window to avoid him seeing how blushed and smiley you are.

After just a few minutes, he pulls into the school grounds, parking in the lot and you two unbuckle your seatbelts. There seems to be hardly anyone here. There’s maybe one or two cars parked, but nobody’s inside. There also aren’t any children on the playground or playing basketball like there normally would be. It seems a bit ghostly out.

With you two now sitting in the car in the practically-empty lot, you begin to wonder maybe this really was a dumb idea of yours.

I mean, what are you guys actually going to do?

With you two in this setting, wouldn’t people expect you two to be doing something shady or sketchy? Especially as the sky’s only growing somber by the minute.

“Do you care if I smoke a cig?” Jeno’s question interrupts your overthinking, making you turn, facing him.

“Go ahead.” you give him the green light to do so. It was his car after all.

Internally, you grimaced at now knowing the fact that he’s a smoker. You weren’t a fan of tobacco or nicotine, but if someone wanted to smoke, who were you to stop them?

Jeno rolls the window down halfway and reaches his hand into his door pocket, pulling out a cigarette and a lighter. He puts the stick in between his mouth, allowing his lips to hold it as he brings the lighter to the end.

He flicks the lighter and the click hits your ears. Your eyes stay hooked on him once you hear it.

Jeno took a few quick breaths to ignite it, and it lit with ease. He sucked and held the smoke in his mouth for a moment, then removed the cigarette from his lips, letting the hot chemicals cool down before releasing a steady stream of smoke into the air towards his lowered window.

He immediately feels the buzz of pleasure from the nicotine rush to his brain. The warm air embraces his lungs like a comforting hug, allowing him to relax after a long day of unpacking.

Meanwhile, you weren’t in favor of cigarettes. You don’t understand the appeal in smoking something that in the end, is probably going to lead you closer to death by shortening your lifespan and bring trouble to your body. The aroma it left was harsh and acrid, and even eye-watering.

Though, even with how strongly you felt about smoking cigarettes, why was Jeno making it seem attractive?

Your attention is captivated on the erotic bittersweetness of the sight next to you. He made it seem so effortless, like it was second nature to him.

He seemed so carefree and rebellious in this moment. He obviously doesn’t give a shit about the consequences. The habit was hazardous, but the youthful, handsome man with strong features smoking in a dark car was glamorous in your perspective.

Jeno has to refrain from grinning as he notices your wonderment. He takes another drag before shooting you a question.

“Have you ever smoked before?”

“Not a cigarette, no.”

He suddenly moves his right hand with cigarette in hold in between you two, towards an empty tray you just now were made aware of. He taps the ash off the cigarette onto the ashtray, and to your surprise, gestures it towards you.

“Wanna try?” his voice husky.

Your mouth falls barely agape, caught off guard by his question.

You have to admit, even though you strayed away from cigarettes due to the long run danger they pose, you can’t help the burning curiosity fueling inside in trying it at least once.

Jeno made it look oddly satisfying, even in the midst of the now tarnished air and molten stench.

One puff wouldn’t kill you.

“Sure.” you reply, eyelids blinking at the stick in between his fingers.

Amusement is written all over Jeno’s face. He had a hunch before you even said anything that you’ve never smoked a cigarette before. You just seemed too sweet for that.

He found it mirthful that you want to try for yourself, and with him. There was something exciting in the fact that he’s about to watch you take your first ever drag. Knowing it was your first, there was a high chance you were going to be appalled by it. But it was going to be fun to watch, almost like he was corrupting your sweetness.

He brings the cigarette towards you and you carefully take it pinched between your thumb and forefinger.

The smoke envelops your nostrils, and you feel clammy all of a sudden with the cigarette in your hold and Jeno focused on you.

You were already overthinking the way you probably looked to him right now, so obviously amateur. And it was going to be humbling when you’re left coughing or can’t do it correctly.

Jeno can practically hear your worrisome thoughts turning, and is quick to kick them to the curb. “You don’t have to do it just because I am.”

“I actually want to try at least once in my life— for the plot, y’know?” you chuckled.

“Okay then. Just know I won’t tease you. Nobody’s first smoke is perfect.” he simply smiles, immediately bringing you support.

You don’t waste anymore time for the cigarette’s sake and wrap your lips around it, hollowing your cheeks as you take a shallow drag.

Your throat instantly feels irritated and on fire, feeling tight with the smoke you’ve just inhaled. All the toxic chemicals blaze your throat and lungs, leaving a bad taste to your mouth and it feels almost-suffocating.

A couple coughs rip from your throat, and you attempt to cover your mouth with your free hand and turn your form slightly towards the right, trying to shield yourself away Jeno from your embarrassing coughing fit.

You each let out a different curse word due to your actions, making the both of you laugh— of which, lowkey makes your throat feel even worse. Jeno quickly reaches over and removes the cigarette from your hold, dumping the ash on the tray and he keeps it between his fingers as he rummages around his car for a possible drink he may have lying around.

Luckily, he finds an unopened water bottle in his backseat. It unfortunately is room temperature and he doesn’t know how long it’s been in his car, but he doesn’t hesitate in opening it and offering it to you, which you gladly take.

“God! I fucking hated that.” you huff out after taking a few sips, now feeling calm. The ashy taste still was lingering in your mouth, making you slightly frown. The scent of the smog was definitely going to cling to your clothes— thankfully, your parents weren’t going to be home tonight to be greeted by it.

“Everyone’s first cigarette is terrible.” he chuckles before taking another drag, looking graceful and natural in doing so.

You can’t help the ping you feel in your heart from how you two now practically shared an indirect kiss, him choosing to continue smoking the cigarette instead of putting it out. You’re starting to feel hazy.

“I don’t think i’ll be smoking that ever again.” you scoff, taking another sip of water before reaching for and screwing the cap back on, placing it on one of his cup holders.

“That’s good, it doesn’t really suit you.” he says before enveloping his lips around the stick again.

Your eyes squint barely as you feel slightly offended from his comment. After blowing out the smoke, he notices your expression, and adds on to his words.

“You’re too sweet for that.”

“Can you elaborate?”

“You’re a pretty girl with frilly polka dot shorts who waits outside for ice cream and has a sweet nature. You just seem like you don’t do bad stuff like that.”

Warmth climbs from your neck up to your cheeks, not being able to maintain eye contact once ‘pretty girl’ rang in your ears. Pretty girl? Fuck, why would he say that.

“Duality exists. People can have multiple sides to them.” you voiced, trying to dismiss his comment from before off your mind.

Jeno nods his head in agreement, “Can’t argue with that.”

“Smoking isn’t good for you, though. You should stay away from it.” he utters, about to take another hit from his cigarette.

An incredulous expression takes over your face. “Well look who’s talking.” you teased, shaking your head slightly.

He pauses at your words, not being able to help the breathy laugh that escapes his throat.

“Indulging in cigarettes is like a hobby to me. It’s too late for me. I’m locked in for life.” he twirls the cigarette around his fingers, then brings it to his lips once again.

“So then should I stay away from you?” you mindlessly say, making you clutch the bottom frills of your shorts for comfort as you await for his response.

Jeno blows out smoke towards the window and turns to you, your fingers playing with the fabric of your shorts. He can’t help how cute you look in his passenger seat. You look so delicate, even in the dark interior of his car, even in the thick of the secondhand smoke air.

He’s torn between wanting to protect you and wanting to tamper with you. He could get a cavity just by looking at you. You were delightful and so new and sweet to him. You can be timid but you’ve been so open to embracing your new neighbor. You were a ball of sunshine, and he was the kind of guy parents hated just based off his looks alone.

Like you had said, there can be multiple sides to everyone. Just because someone seems to appear one way on the outside, or you base their personality off one side they’ve shown you, doesn’t define their entire persona.

Jeno really wants you two to get close together. Call him desperate, but he can already feel growing chemistry between you two. You barely met, but Jeno can’t help how he’s already so drawn to you.

And he intends to get to know every part of you.

Your fingers continue to fidget with your shorts, thighs pressed together, suddenly feeling small and hyper aware of your own existence within his presence.

“I kinda don’t want you too.”

“I already like you too much, think I could use someone like you in my life.”

Your nervous system is a whirlwind currently, the opposite of calm. Blood rushes to your head in hearing his response, ears becoming warm. A tight-lipped grin stretches across your face while averting your eyes from Jeno.

You can’t help the nervous giggle that comes out of you, unable to contain your emotions. There’s a change in the atmosphere, and it’s not just due to the smoke floating around.

Fuck. You don’t even know what to say to that.

He grins at your figure, his words clearly stirring something inside you. You avoid his gaze, pupils suddenly finding your lap more interesting and easier to look at than to meet his own eyes as you feel bashful.

Your fingers run along the goosebumps that now decorate the bit of exposed skin from your thighs, coy and still unable to think of a response. He makes you feel so silly and dumb, falling for his charisma.

Jeno’s eyes fall into your lap, following your small movements. You were visibly fidgety. He couldn’t help in wanting to reach over and place a hand protectively over your thigh. He then wonders what it would be like to hold your hand, or to tuck a stand of your hair behind your ear, or to kiss your lips.

He wants to act on instinct. The attraction and desire he has for you is too much for him to bear with you next to him in his car— in an empty parking lot.

He abruptly rolls up his window and reaches for the water bottle you drank out of from the cup holder, opening it and using a tiny bit of water to carefully add it to the ashtray, to stub his cigarette out properly.

You finally look up towards him because of his movements, watching and locking eyes once he’s finished.

“Y/n…” Jeno begins, head cocked slightly to the side, swallowing before continuing. “Is it too soon to ask if I can kiss you?” he practically whispers.

Your heartbeat feels like it pauses and sinks for a moment when you process his words.

Who would’ve guessed you’d be put in this position today?

Jeno’s eyes carry passion and intensity, awaiting for your permission or any answer. He’s craving for your attention, and he can’t deny the carnal desire within him to make each other feel good right now.

“I’d really love to kiss you.” he mumbles, eyes falling to your lips, head still tipped slightly, like a puppy concentrated on you.

The outside world and any miscellaneous thoughts are drowned out by the intention behind his eyes. The tense air and his admirable stare makes you feel a sense of vulnerability. Your own lips are trembling and heart flutters.

You’re lost from his eagerness and interest in you, caught off guard that he felt some attraction towards you while you’ve been trying to ignore how handsome this man was.

It’s been long since you’ve had any ounce of intimacy with another person. Loneliness has consumed you lately. With Jeno showing up in your life out of the blue, confessing that he wants to kiss you even from the little time you’ve known each other, it makes you feel validated and enchanted.

You peer down at the ashtray and center console, being a barrier between the two of you.

It would be slightly discomforting to kiss him over the compartment. But you really did want to kiss him.

Given the fact that you were parked in a parking lot during the late evening, you wondered in the back of your mind secretly of the possibility of him wanting to fuck you. Honestly, you wouldn’t be opposed to that idea in the slightest. A hot guy like Jeno wanting you was generating intense euphoria in your brain.

You were definitely nervous and timorous but fuck, you wanted him to feed your desires and take you heatedly.

“Would the backseat be more comfortable?” you finally manage to speak, viewing him with doe eyes. You knew what you were implying— a bold move for you but you now know that he wants it, too.

Patience never really was your thing.

Jeno’s lips curl upwards, sending you a knowing-look in response to your comment. He gestures with his head to the backseat, “You wanna?”

You merely swallow and nod your head, eventually letting out a faint ‘yes.’

Excitement charges him up in how fast things turned. He opens his own door first, with you following and opening yours a second after, making your way to the backseat on your respective sides.

Frisson is present within the pit of your stomach as you move to the back. Your body hairs are raised due to the tingling sensation rippling all throughout your skin.

You were excited but apprehensive. You were suddenly taking a leap into a new adventure, which was you about to get fucked by your new neighbor in the backseat— in a school parking lot. It was definitely indecent, but lust persisted.

Your pupils flickered around nervously as you each sat in the back, growing sweaty with every second that passes, wondering how this was going to play out.

Jeno takes note of your body language and immediately speaks up. “Are you okay with this? We don’t have to do anything if you aren’t comfortable.”

“I’m okay, just a bit awkward.” you sigh out with a slight laugh.

He smiles and looks down at the decent amount of empty space in between you two.

“C’mere.” he says, signaling towards his lap.

You take a breath as you slip out of your shoes and move closer to him. Jeno stretches his arms out, pulling your weight to seat you on his lap. Your legs wrap around his waist, and your body stills, in disbelief that you’ve found yourself in this foreign position.

Although patience wasn’t your thing, this situation was unfamiliar to you. About to get fucked by someone you barely met was crazy for you. You craved him, but you were also scared something was going to go wrong, whether it was from you or him.

Jeno’s left hand rests on the small of your back, drawing circles with his thumb over the fabric of your t-shirt. His other hand slowly reaches towards the apple of your cheek, rubbing it carefully with the pad of his thumb.

Your tummy flutters wildly from his small touches and the desire emanating from his eyes as he scans you.

“Relax for me, pretty.”

“Can you touch me, hm?”

You don’t verbally respond. You pupils go back and forth between his face and neck as you hook your arms around the thick skin. Your lips parted in being careful with your movements, still in disbelief of this current moment. He called you pretty again.

He smiles at the feeling of your arms around him, and lowers his thumb down your face until it reached your lips, playing with your bottom lip, eyes hooked to something so inviting.

Your own eyes seek his lips, watching the tip of his tongue slip out to give his own a lick, making you force to resist in shifting in his lap out of anticipation or letting out a whimper.

He’s the one to rip the tension by seizing a kiss from you. He gently pulls your face in, and as his lips meet yours, your only focus was on the heat that ignited within you.

The kiss was warm and smokey. It was intense with the way his lips moved jointly with yours.

While you didn’t care for nicotine, the taste of Jeno’s lips was a drug you could see yourself becoming addicted to.

As more seconds pass, the kissing becomes increasingly passionate. You’re practically melting, and it intensifies even more with his scintillating touches.

He protectively keeps a hand around your back, keeping you in place and subtly pushing you in closer towards him. HIs other hand holds your jaw, keeping your face slightly angled and steady.

You can’t help but rub down your clothed crotch against his own, surprising you when your movement draws a deep moan from Jeno, making you quietly gasp.

“Fuck.” he breathes out before he meshes his moist tongue into your hot mouth, making you produce a moan in feeling the wet muscle explore your sensitive erogenous zone.

Your eyes are clenched shut and fingers suddenly find themselves messily fiddling through Jeno’s locks, mind and body lost in the rush of how you’re locked by his lips.

There’s a growing hardness felt through the lightweight material of your shorts. It’s a signal that he wants more, each of your endorphins going nuts by merely making out.

He pulls away from your swollen lips, breathless, hushed gasps filling one another’s ears. Jeno then maneuvers a hand to cradle the back of your head, and brings his face towards your left ear, simultaneously beginning to play with the hem of your shirt.

“Let me take care of you.” his breath ghosts over the shell of your ear, sending a chill down your spine.

His hands redirect to either side of your waist, feeling you up as he brings his face back and scans your face, awaiting for a verbal response.

“Please.” you whisper, warmth spreading across your skin.

“Please what?” he teases.

“Please undress me. Touch me— my body and pussy. Want you to.” you slip out, swallowing your pride. It was a bit embarrassing to say such things aloud in front of your new neighbor, but fuck it. He wanted you equally as bad.

Fully blushed and flushed out, your eyes fall down to stare blankly at his chest. Jeno is filled with amusement though, and hums in satisfaction at your words.

He smoothly reaches for your jaw and tilts it up so that you’re looking at him properly, bringing a buzz to your pussy from his dominance.

“You’re gonna be so good to me, sweet girl.” he says, caressing your face like you’re made of glass.

He brings you in for a couple more deep kisses, savoring how perfect your lips felt and tasted against his own.

He then confirms again with a nod if you’re okay to proceed further, to which you nod back, allowing him to remove your shirt. He also helps you shimmy out of those cutesy shorts of yours, tossing the clothes somewhere up front.

Although you still have your undergarments on and you agreed to do this, you feel so exposed and vulnerable now. Jeno was still fully clothed while he began to fiddle with your bra strap, which made this feel unfair.

“Let me take off your shirt.” you whined and batted your lashes at Jeno, causing him to halt his attempt in wanting to remove your bra next.

He can’t help but smile as you grab onto his flannel shirt, waiting for him to give you the signal to remove it. You were so fucking cute.

“My bad, pretty. I’m all yours.” he kissed your cheek before allowing you to do so, which made you burn inside with all kinds of sensual emotions.

He watched you in awe as you shakily started to undo all his buttons, entertained in seeing the curiosity behind your eyes of unveiling what lies beneath the fabric.

With his shirt now open, he fully removed it himself by pulling off the sleeves and threw it in the growing pile up front, leaving his entire torso bare.

Now uncovered, you can’t help the admiration beholding your eyes as you view his exposed skin.

It shouldn’t have been such a shocker that a handsome face like his had the perfect body to match: hard chest, sculpted abs, and lean waist that contrasted from his broad shoulders.

You really lucked out.

“Like what you see?” Jeno can’t help but snicker, aware that he had this effect on people. You just boosted his ego even more.

You can’t help but giggle at the cliche line, eyes timidly flying away from his torso. Unfortunately he doesn’t get a verbal response from you, but he knows how you feel inside.

“For the record… I definitely like what I see.” he traces the edges of your body, appreciating your skin and details.

Your eyes redirect to his face, watching him eye you hungrily, his fingers beginning to delicately feather over the lace detailing of your bra. Your breathing slows, air tense with you seated over him and his vision glued heartily on you.

His eyes find yours with his fingers still over your bra. You pump your chest out a bit, gesturing to him that you want things to proceed and to remove the rest of your garments.

He immediately leads his hands to your back, unhooking your lacy bra. Your mounds spill out as he removes it and tosses it to the side, the sight making his cock so pumped, full of blood.

“Beautiful girl.” he mumbles, then latches his mouth onto the underside of your ear, making you angle your face to give him better access.

The open-mouth kisses he leaves activates the nerves around your neck. It tickles for a second, but he hits that sweet spot of yours, making you melt.

You’d give into any demand of his with the way his warm lips suck and nibble over your delicate skin. You grind down into him, arms hooked around his neck, clutching for security or else you’d probably melt away.

Your sex only covered by thin panties rutting against his cock straining through his jeans has him groaning into your neck. He zealously continues to suck on your neck, adding gentle bites and hot licks in between, making you arch your neck to the front and moan out of pure bliss. You secretly hope he’d leave a mark or two, so you’d have a visual reminder of this heated night for a few days.

His kisses meander to your throat and chest, tongue sliding out to trace all around one of your areolas, lips then enfolding over the nipple.

Squeals of delight reign free from your throat at Jeno’s foreplay, continuing while he engulfs and sucks both your firm nipples.

“You sound so pretty for me, girly.” he rasps out, dragging his lips over your fleshy, supple breasts.

The nickname sends lightning straight to your core, making you whimper in neediness.

Jeno ends the fun with enjoying your tits to start the pleasure awaiting for him from your cunt.

His left hand holds you while his right hand travels down your tummy, until it reaches the bit of skin below your navel.

There’s a dark appetite visible in his orbs. He looks at you for any sign of uneasiness while his hand goes down. Your breath only hitches, pussy tingling with a quiet gasp from your mouth once his fingers rubbed down to your panty-covered cunt.

It’s so damp and warm down here, he thinks to himself.

“So horny, aren’t we now?”

The way he talks to you alone makes you ignite within.

He decides to pull your underwear to the side, his fingers now coming in full, bare contact with the outside of your pussy.

You’re practically holding your breath at this point, waiting for him to play with you, anticipating the feeling.

“Me too.” he utters, answering his own rhetorical question before he starts running his fingers slowly around your clit.

His touch on your swelling bud causes another hushed gasp to come from you. He’s beyond pleased by listening to all the noises your voice produces due to his sultry touches.

His finger tips slid over your clit and then inched down, feeling the outside of your sex and letting you grow accustomed to his touch.

He ends up sliding one finger up your hole, leaving your mouth ajar and body to quiver from him inserting it in.

Jeno’s tongue licks around his teeth while he fingers you, your walls so tight around his finger.

“Relax for me, hm?” he leans in to kiss you, easing your body to the feeling.

His lips continuously colliding with your own makes you lost for a moment, body fuzzy and loosened up until he decides to squeeze in another finger.

The jolt of pressure wrenched a moan out of you, making Jeno draw back to bite his lip and laugh quietly. It was such a turn on for him to listen and see the beautiful noises and faces you make— and he hadn’t even fucked you yet.

He was prepping your pussy for his own length, already salivating in thinking of you taking him whole.

His long, thick fingers curl into a ‘hook’ motion, causing your legs to shake in lust and a shiver runs inside your core that tingled.

“Mhmmm…” you mewled, starting to subconsciously grind and meet the movements of his fingers toying with your moist and velvety sex.

Watching your responses to his movements feels so good to Jeno. He can feel you start to clamp around his digits, making his own mouth open and turn into a smirk. His cock is painfully hard, begging to be free and feel that clamping sensation that his own fingers do. He really hates to rip you from nearing your climax, but he’d rather you both cum together, your body underneath his.

With that, he halts his movements and removes his fingers. A broken whine rips from your throat at the feeling of him leaving your needy cunt. You could practically cry. Desperation clouded over you.

Jeno quickly quiets you down with now inserting those sticky fingers of his inside your mouth, causing you to hum around his digits, eyes wide and then closed shut.

The fullness and heaviness from his fingers and your own essence weighing over your tongue has your pussy clenching over nothing. You eagerly suck your wetness from his fingers, not bothered that he was just in you. This was all so racy.

“Such a good girl for me— fuck.” he groans, watching you suck his fingers in, your teeth faintly raking over them, cock twitching at how dirty this sweet girl was.

“Gonna make you cum from my cock, don’t worry.”

He removes his fingers from your mouth, pulling you off his lap, motioning you to lay back down.

Your heart rate picks up as you carefully lie over his backseat. He traces the delicate curves of your hips and finds his way to the band of your underwear, you each sharing a nod of consent for him to remove them.

He tugs them down and off, tossing them and he gets you to pull your knees up, allowing more room for Jeno within this limited space.

He mentally whistles at the sight of your princess parts and the position you’re in, waiting for him to take you in the back of his car.

He doesn’t waste anymore time and hastily gets rid of his confining jeans and briefs, his cock immediately standing proudly once his underwear is pulled off.

The sight of his big and thick, towering manhood has your breath stuck in your throat.

While he moves and reaches over to dig for a condom in his glove compartment, your palms become sweaty in the thought of him squeezing his length inside you.

He looked absolutely delicious, but you weren’t sure if you could handle someone as big as him.

Jeno finds a condom, ripping the plastic open with his teeth and flings the wrapper out of sight. He stretches the rubber over his length, precum already leaking from his tip.

As he inches towards you, you can’t help but voice your concern.

“Will it fit? you shakily breathed.

Jeno can’t help but tilt his head, staring at you intently. His lips can’t help but curl, offering you a reassuring smile.

His lips suddenly find themselves over your knees, pressing a gentle kiss over both of them, making your heart pump with fondness.

“We will make it fit.”

“Let me know if it hurts, okay? Don’t want you in pain, pretty.”

“Okay.” is all you say, still sweaty, but ready for him to enter you, core aching to be touched again.

He massages the inside of your thighs with care, trying to ease you up some more. He grabs his length and rubs it along your folds— especially dragging the tip past your clit, making you moan at the sensation.

He finally takes it upon him to prudently push his cock into your entrance, his mouth open while he starts to stretch you out.

Your legs immediately hook around him and rest on his lower back, meanwhile your arms decide to cling onto his beefy biceps for support. You cry out a moan from the pressure.

“It’s okay, girly, I got you.”

“You’re safe with me. Gonna take care of you.” Jeno’s breath fans over your face before he captures your lips with his. His hips slowly begin to roll as you kissed him back with enthusiasm, a burst of adrenaline racing through your bloodstream.

Your walls practically swallowed him, cock fitting so snug inside you. His left hand brushed into your hair, running his fingers loosely around your locks, making you relax from his touch.

“God! You— you’re so big.” you blatantly puffed out, starting to feel his thick cock brush past your walls.

“Yeah? You can take it, pretty— right?” the blood in Jeno’s body starts to boil due to the warmth encompassing his length, and from the sense of pride filling him from your reaction to his size.

He begins to start a steady pace with his hip movements, sliding his cock in and out— not all the way, but enough to stimulate your sensitive walls.

He falls into a natural pattern as your body accepts him well. Your vision darts upwards towards the roof of the car, beginning to lose yourself to his fat cock.

Though it quickly lowers again when his head dips into your right breast, tongue slipping out and starting to twist around your erect nipple.

A mewl jumps out of you, hands redirecting to his muscular back with your nails pressing tightly into his skin.

“C’mon, talk to me.” Jeno rasps, making brief eye contact with you for a second before he briskly attacks your entire right breast with his mouth. He ferociously makes out with your mound and marks you, painting you with reddish-purple splotches and leaving the flesh sheening in spit.

His hunger for attention and to get you both off is ardent. Every other thrust into you is rigid. He was pacing himself at first to start off, but now his rhythm increases to fuck you hard and his length travels into you deep. He has no intention in holding back his horniness.

Lack of words from you aside from the whimpers and moans has him moving a hand to touch and toy with your clit. His calloused fingers alternate between softly pinching and sliding his fingers in a back-and-forth motion along the puffy bud.

“Oh— God! Jeno!” the attentiveness he shows to your aching clit while ramming into you has you scream his name. It has you automatically canting your hips up to meet his thrusts into you.

Your reactions and hearing his name from your voice drives Jeno wild. Breathy grunts leave his mouth, hips continuing in chasing both of your highs.

The current setting and moment is electrifying. Fucking in the car in a school parking lot was obscene and limited compared to bed space, but it was still extremely mind-numbing and euphoric sex.

Your frame caged under Jeno’s ripped body is like a dream. You felt so helpless in this position, but couldn’t possibly wish for him to stop. It was so hot seeing and feeling his figure fuck you into oblivion.

Your body rocking over the leather car seats only amplifies your feeling of sensitivity and arousal. God, how amazing it felt for Jeno to be pleasing you in this way was. You can’t even imagine how good it would be to fuck in other ways— in other places, with him.

His relentless efforts has your mouth stuck open. The arousement increases the amount of saliva within your mouth. Surprise catches you when some of it seeps out the corner of your mouth.

Your tongue lolls out in attempt to catch the drool before it fully falls, failing miserably as it rapidly trickles down from the corner, to your chin. Quickly, you wipe it off messily and then place your hand back over his skin, but it’s obvious that Jeno sees what just happened, as he’s right over you— much to your embarrassment.

Though, his cock surges in amusement, and so does his other head. You were literally drooling over his cock. How fucking sexy was that? Wonder how’d you look on your knees giving him the messiest head. Oh how he hopes to have that thought come to life one day.

“Mhm. So hot— fucking my cute, pretty neighbor. You like that too, hm? You like the feeling of your big neighbor on top and inside of you?” he teases you, watching your pretty figure being ruined beautifully by him. His filthy words mix with his dirty, animalistic movements.

“Feels so full and good, Jeno!” you choke out. You’re blissed out, feeling like the band in your core may snap soon.

There you go saying his name again, making Jeno groan repeatedly in ecstasy, dragging his cock deep into you, his weighty sack occasionally slapping against your bottom.

“Yeah? So full of me, pretty.”

“Taking me so well, like a good girl.”

Heat swells in your cheeks from his comments and the hot temperature and pressure felt as he fucks you. As much as you savor it, it’s becoming too much. The finish line is coming close to being ripped apart.

The thrill in the pit of your stomach has it churning. His long, deep strokes, each of your various moans bouncing off the tinted windows, his gruffly voice, and his finger-work over your sensitive bud— it’s all captivating you to feel an abundance of dopamine rush.

A shiver in your core tingles consistently. You’re beginning to lose control. It’s like you’re stoned and can’t focus on anything aside from the intensity of that tingly pressure present within you.

“Gonna cum, Jeno.” your voice cracked while your muscles tightened.

“Fuck,” he hisses at the tight grip of your walls swallowing him from the tip to base.

Your eyes rolled back behind your trembling lashes, and he watches with a keen stare and relishes in your smutty sounds. It all only encourages him to keep persisting to reach the peak.

And then, you finally break.

Your fluid expels from your pussy, lubricating your walls and leaving you a whimpering, wet mess.

Jeno pushes through your spasming, feeling the warmth spreading in your heated cunt through his condom. His own muscles can’t resist in clenching hard. He pushed you over the edge and possessed your mind and body with euphoria.

It’s practically heaven. His balls tighten and eyebrows push together with hips starting to slow down as strings of cum begin to fill his condom. It’s so relieving that a few guttural moans come out from his throat.

His hot seed falling into the condom is so fulfilling, sack emptied. All this activity has left him sweaty all over and mouth dry. His chest continues to heave and he carefully pulls out of you.

You shake and shiver now that the tension is dying down, and your muscles try to relax after the satisfying orgasm.

Jeno is quick to remove his used condom and tie it, abandoning it in a random spot in the car. He’ll of course, clean his car later.

He reaches towards the front of the car to search for his shirt, and then edges back to you.

“Hey, you were amazing, sweet girl. Let me help you.” Jeno spoke softly to you while the back of his fingers stroke one of your shaky thighs.

He began to use his shirt as a rag for any wetness seeping out and around the outside of your cunt.

You couldn’t help but flush at the aftercare he shows you, even while in a car and not hesitating to sacrifice his shirt to wipe your spills. Seems like chivalry isn’t dead after all.

“Thank you.” you say to him when he’s finished.

He just smiles at you, eyes crinkling as he sticks out a hand for you to grab, and helps you sit up next to him.

Still both fully naked, you still feel flushed and exposed now that the sex was over. Your breasts hanging out and his cock lying limp over his thigh was too hard to ignore. Jeno notices, and quickly gathers your t-shirt for you and his briefs for him, making you thank him once again.

You don’t know what to say now and he doesn’t know what to do. It’s obvious now that you two have an attraction to one another. But, where do you two go from here? Will this be a one time thing? Or maybe a friends-with-benefits type of deal? Guess you didn’t need a label right away, you barely know him. But you know you needed more of him, in any way— sexual or not.

In the midst of each of your silence, Jeno decides to reach for your hand, clasping his fingers with your own under his. He gently squeezes your hand, causing your own legs to squeeze together, beginning to feel a sense of giddiness inside.

“What’s on your mind?” he asks, thumb beginning to soothe you as he drags it back and forth the side of your hand.

“Do you have a girlfriend?” the words leap out of you, making you cringe as soon as they come out.

Mortification washes over you. Why the fuck would you ask that? What are you even implying?

Your sudden question makes him chuckle and grin, especially now that you already fucked. You guys are just now having this conversation.

“No Y/n, I don’t. I’m one-hundred percent single.” he smirks at you, thumb still tracing your skin.

His answer is pleasing to your ears. You try not to show how obviously happy you are with that. A faint smile is all you allow yourself to show.

“You don’t have a boyfriend now, do you?” he tilts his head at you, eyes playful.

“I don’t.” you spoke softly.

Just like you, Jeno finds himself content with your answer.

“Good girl.”

ﾟ+..｡*ﾟ+ ﾟ+..｡*ﾟ+ ﾟ+..｡*ﾟ+ ﾟ+..｡*ﾟ+ ﾟ+..｡*ﾟ+ ﾟ+..｡*ﾟ+

[echoofadream]

Part 3 of "Your favorite patient"🥺👉👈

Your favorite patient...

Part 3

Summary: you came back from the hospital after a very stressful day and your good boy helps you relax

Contains: sub!male!yandere, AFAB!dom!reader(no gender specified), smut, oral(r!receiving), master/slave dynamic, praise, little bit of feminization

Short note: I hate how doms are portrayed like these people who don't moan or whimper because that's what a sub does and they only make those guttural noises and groans. Like, let people enjoy themselves. Anyway you moan a lot in this one

You had an awfully exhausting day at the hospital. Trying to convince a stubborn man that surgery was the only way to save his life, then performing a three hour surgery on him is no easy work. You were stressed and could barely keep your eyes open as you made your way to your apartment on the tenth floor of the complex. It was nine pm. The elevator was broken. Such a wonderful day.

You took your keys out of your coat and unlocked the door on the third try. Sighing, you opened it and stepped inside. A small smile appeared on your face when you noticed the man kneeling in front of you.

"Welcome home, doctor" he said with the biggest, most loving smile you've ever seen in your life. He was on his knees, hands on his thighs and his back straight(the "good boy" pose, as you called it). He was wearing a short black skirt you'd bought him and an oversized white shirt. A couple of buttons were undone, leaving the bite marks on his chest exposed. What a sight he was.

He started untying your shoe laces, carefully taking them off and putting them aside. Then, he slowly grabbed your ankle and put your foot inside the house slipper before moving to the next leg.

"Dinner is ready, doctor. Would you like to change into some more comfortable clothes first and then eat?" the man asks, the same smile on his face.

"I'm not hungry" you say, fatigue palpable in your voice as you started walking towards your shared bedroom. He started living with you a couple of days ago and was already taking his job as your slave very seriously. He'd have breakfast ready for you every morning before he'd come and wake you up. He'd help you shower and stand by your side as you brushed your teeth. Sometimes he'd do your skincare since you were always in such a hurry in the morning. When you'd come back home, he'd be waiting for you on his knees in front of the door, helping you take off your street footwear and your coat. Then he'd either help you change into house clothes or straight up follow you into the kitchen where he'd serve you the food he made with pure love and adoration just for you. Every day another healthy homemade meal. Every night a relaxing bubble bath(when he wasn't fucked out of his mind; when he was you'd take care of him).

He whines and jumps to his feet, following you into the bedroom. "B-but I worked so hard to make dinner..."

You ignore him and take a seat on the bed. When you start taking your clothes off his hands stop you.

"I'll do it for you" he tells you confidently. You let him unbutton your shirt and slide it off your shoulders, hearing the soft sounds he made at the sight of your bare torso. "You're so beautiful, doctor..." he says breathlessly, smiling and kneeling at your feet.

"I'm tired" you tell him and he frowns.

"It's all that geezer's fault" he mumbles. You raise a brow at his words, silently telling him to continue. "That old man who argued with you about the surgery" he adds, his voice full of hatred. "How dare he think he knows better than you!?" he snaps. "How dare he stress you out!? Who does he think he is? That guy deserved being refused the surgery! He should've fucking died!"

His face flushes red at the sudden touch of your hand, gently stroking his cheek. You were giving him the same kind smile you used to when he first saw you in that hospital room. He bites his lower lip and lets out a tiny whine.

"How do you know about that, pretty boy?" you ask him. You weren't mad at him, god forbid! How could you? He was your boy after all.

" 'm tracking you, doctor..." he says softly.

"Yeah? How so?

God the way you were talking to him was making him lose his mind already. Every time you spoke to him like he was an inferior being, someone who could barely comprehend the meaning of your words, everything would go fuzzy for him and he'd lose himself completely.

"App" he says, giving you his signature puppy eyes.

"App?" you repeat, a smirk on your face. He whimpers at the sight, his hips slightly rubbing against your foot.

"On...phone...your phone...track location and...can hear...you...mic..."

You laugh. You've already gotten used to his obsessive and possessive behavior, so the news didn't surprise you that much. But the way he was already so desperate and you haven't even touched him yet! Never in your life had you ever met someone so sensitive. And you loved it.

"Is that so, baby?" you ask teasingly. "You're tracking my phone?"

"Mhm~...mhm..." he whimpers, nodding his head rapidly. " 'm taking care of you..."

You burst out laughing again and that only makes him feel smaller. You start stroking his hair, slowly moving upwards to the top of his head and pat him.

"That's so nice of you, pretty boy" you praise him.

He chuckles, his cheeks getting redder. " 'm pretty...your...pretty boy"

You kept caressing his hair as he leaned into your touch, soft sounds escaping his lips. You looked at him so lovingly, he was practically melting. Your thoughts were filled with...love for him. God, were you truly getting so obsessed with him that you didn't mind him tracking your phone and listening to all your conversations? Well, did you have something to hide from him anyway? Of course you didn't! He was the closest person to you. You could tell him anything. It wasn't as though you had any secrets he wasn't allowed to hear.

"Sweet thing, why don't you finish taking these clothes off, huh?"

He gulped and started nodding his head eagerly. "Yes, doctor! Everything you say!" His hands began to unbuckle your belt and you watched him with a proud smile on your face. He looked so pretty in that little skirt of his and you were one hundred percent sure he didn't have anything underneath. He was such a cute little boy!

He practically moaned when he finished taking off your pants, his trembling hands grabbing the hem of your underwear. You spread your legs in front of him so he could see the sticky wet spot on your panties.

"I'm so tired, sweet boy. Do you wanna make me feel better?"

"Yes!" he responds without hesitation. "Wanna taste you. May I taste you? May I? Please..."

How could you deny him when he asked you so politely? He's always been so well behaved! You never had to tell him to beg for what he wanted(except for when you wanted to torment him). He was such a good boy! If you weren't so mean he'd never receive any punishment because he never deserves it! Those are the times when you get mad at him for no reason, just because you need to justify why you wanted to cover his body in bites and bruises and smack his ass till he couldn't sit comfortably for days.

"Pleaseee..." he whines once more and you get pulled away from your thoughts.

"I want you to make me cum, you think you can do that?" you ask, teasing him.

His eyes light up and he starts nodding his head. "I'll make you cum...make you feel so good..."

You smirk before leaning on your elbows and waiting for him to start worshipping his master.

As soon as he saw you get in that position, his head was buried in between your legs and his tongue was already licking at your clothed clit. He grabbed your thighs and lifted them on his shoulders as his tongue pressed on your entrance and his nose rubbed your bud frantically.

"F-fuck baby..." you cursed, biting your lower lip, trying to suppress the sounds you were forced to make.

He grabs the hem of your panties and pulls them down, rapidly taking them off and throwing them on the floor, leaving your pussy exposed to him. A whine escapes his lips and his hot breath hits your sensitive cunt, causing you to groan and grab a hold of his hair.

"So pretty..." he says, already sounding breathless. "Such....pretty...pussy...wanna make you feel good..."

Before you can tell him anything his mouth goes back to work, tongue lapping at your folds and causing your body to tremble. Lewd sounds started filling the room as he kept eating your pussy like a starved man. And boy was he doing a good job.

"Does...mhm~ feel...good mhm...?"

You couldn't even answer his question. The pleasure overtaking your body at that moment was too intense for you to talk. He went back to your hole, shoving his tongue inside and rubbing his nose against your clit rapidly.

"F-ahh baby...a-atta boy..." The praise only made him go faster, his hands rising to your thighs and pushing them inwards, squeezing his head between them. His tongue started rubbing circles on your red bud, each stroke drawing a moan of pleasure from you.

Your sounds boosted his confidence as he moved his head faster and harder. You didn't even know such a slim man could possibly have that much strength! The bed was fucking creaking with every thrust of his face in between your legs. Oh, he's humping the bed. Yeah, that makes sense.

That's when your grip on his hair tightens and you try to sound as demanding as you could while he was tongue fucking you.

"D-don't ahh~... st-stop thrust...f-fuck...the fuck...oh fuck!....fucking bed...!!"

And he stops. Wasn't he such a good boy? He pulls his face away from your cunt for a second, catching his breath. "S-sorry...I'll b-be good~...from...now-"

You push his head back in between your legs, muffling his words as you start to grind on his face, getting closer and closer to your release. "Fuck baby...yeah! That's f-fuck...so g-good...atta boy! Atta fucking boy!"

You felt your orgasm approaching, your legs shaking and walls clenching around the tip of his tongue, which was laying numb at your entrance, too tired to keep going as you fucked his face. As you came he let out a loud whimper, then pulled away from your pussy, panting like crazy. His face was covered in your release and he was licking his lips sloppily.

"Taste so good~...mhm...love you..." he says, giggling like an idiot.

You weren't in a much better state yourself. Panting and full of sweat, clit feeling sore from his abusive tongue and legs still shaking slightly. Your gaze lowers and that's when you see the sheets and his little skirt, both covered in white fluid.

"Oh baby..."

He looks away, cheeks getting redder. He covers his mouth, trying to hide the smile on his face. God, he was so perfect. He came just from humping the bed and eating your pussy and he didn't even get to finish grinding on the mattress cause you made him stop!

"Darling, look at the mess you did..."

"Mhm...are you proud?" he whimpers, big puppy eyes staring right into your soul. "Did I do good? Was I a good boy?"

You smile lovingly and you couldn't deny the feelings you were starting to develop for this man. "You did so good, my sweet boy. I'm proud of you"

"Mhm...thank you...pat my head, pretty please..."

You pat your lap and his mouth curls into a smile. He stands up and places his thighs on either side of your hips before wrapping his arms around your neck and sitting on your lap. You were right, he wasn't wearing any underwear. You smirk at the feeling of his now semi-hard cock on your skin.

"Pats!" he whimpers. "Please...!"

You can't but chuckle as you start caressing his hair with one hand while stroking his back with the other. His breathing was starting to go back to normal as he let himself relax in your arms.

"Mhm...thank you...I love you..."

"I love you too, pretty boy"

Thank you for reading this! I hope you enjoyed it! You can send me requests for what you want me to write about in the next parts❤️

[divinitysotherside]

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

MONSTERFUCKER !

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅ . when you wanted to see your boyfriend again, you didn’t expect him to change drastically !

contents . cursed spirit gojo , lust curse gojo , gojo was transformed into a lust curse , very short smut scene

warnings . monsterfucking , transformed gojo , pussy eating , mentions of cheating but not really (?) , mentions of p in v sex , very short smut scene (it’s just reader and gojo goofing around but it’s still smut nonetheless 🤷🏻‍♀️)

You were the strongest sorcerer of the modern era. Well, after Satoru Gojo. However, he just suddenly went missing a few weeks ago, so the higher ups deemed you the strongest.

Shall we also say that you and Satoru are dating?

“Good job, everyone. Keep that up and you’ll—” Your phone rang, you scoffed. You were in the middle of teaching the first years.

“Hold on, kids. I’ll just answer this.” You mutter, turning away from them and reaching in your pockets for your phone.

“Yeah?” You asked, your other arm crossed over your chest.

“(Y/N), there’s a new special grade cursed spirit on the loose. It has beaten even multiple grade 1s.” Yaga on the other line informed you, clear frustration in his voice.

You were intrigued. A special grade cursed spirit that has beaten even grade 1s? It’s not everyday you see it.

“The sorcerers we send out to face it.. all the males died, and the older females looked worn out. Except for some women, those that are younger and three older ones.. they made it out just fine. It must be weaker against females, since it hasn’t killed any, so we’re taking you for the job.”

“Where is it?” You ask, a smirk on your face.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Arriving at a hotel, you rushed in, clicking the 3rd floor. “This was where it was last seen,” You mutter to yourself, the elevator doors opening once it stopped.

Your footwear clacked against the floor of the hotel, your eyes scanning your surroundings. It seemed empty. Too empty.

Reaching Room 28, you open it. “This.. is the exact location of the cursed spirit.” You mutter, looking around. “Huh, seems empt—”

Suddenly, a man—no, that’s not a man. It’s too pale, though its build is like that of a human male’s, muscular, tall.

What stood out was the albino hair and the multiple cerulean eyes scattered around its body.

You got your stance ready, but all that happened was that.. it felt different. You looked around, seeing that the room had completely changed. A large bed in the center and the room was.. nicely decorated.

Looking back at the cursed spirit, you see that it has a blindfold. One that looks ripped open. Its eyes were blue, ocean-like.

It looked oddly familiar, and oddly attractive.

The room, it wasn’t a room anymore. It was a domain.

When the curse finally noticed you, it immediately pounced on you, pinning you to the ground.

Once you looked into its blue eyes, you noticed that this was definitely Satoru Gojo. It should be, right?

“S–satoru?” You mutter, and the curse’s eyes widen. “You realized?”

His voice wasn’t fun and cheerful anymore. It was monstrous, deep and terrifying.

“Y–yeah..” You say, sitting up on your elbows to take a good look at him. “How.. did you turn into a—”

“It’s a long story. Summary, I got transformed into this lust curse.” He huffs, looking back at you.

“Now I fuck every female I see, like a manwhore.” He pauses, “or should I say.. curs—”

“Don’t even finish that sentence. You haven’t changed a bit, well, your mentality.” You remark, eyes scanning his new body.

“So, can I hit it?” Satoru asks, his massive head resting on your chest. “W–what? You really think I’m gonna let you h—”

“C’mon! Every female sorcerer accepted! Well.. except for Utahime, Shoko and Mei Mei.. Mei–san said she already has somebody else to let it hit.. Utahime hates me.. and Shoko.. she doesn’t see me that way.. I mean.. I don’t see her that way too, so I guess it’s fine..”

Satoru says with a fake frown, his face buried in your cleavage. “Sounds like a you problem.” You chuckle, pushing his head away.

“Hey! Don’t tell me you’re going to leave me too!?” He pouts, wrapping his arms around you. “Ugh, you’re so annoying.” You scoff, “fine.”

“Really!?” Satoru asks to confirm, his grip on you tightening. “Yes, Satoru..”

You then paused, “Wait, so you’ve been fucking other girls without me knowing!?” You ask, weakly punching his shoulder.

“Babe—no, I needed to! Ouch, stop!” He groaned, trying to avoid your weak punches.

“Let me make it up to you! Ow!” Satoru used his hand to cover his shoulder, his grip on your tightening. “C’mon, don’t be mad! I needed to, I was gonna die if I didn’t! Would you want that!?” He pouts, clinging to you.

“Ugh, you big baby.” You scoffed, ruffling his hair.

“Atleast this big baby’s gonna fuck you good!” He smiled up at you, licking your cheek.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Ahn— Satoru, what the fuckk..” You groaned, gripping the sheets with your legs spread, Satoru busying himself in between your legs.

His tongue was long, longer than before, as expected. It reached that good spot whenever it would enter your cunt. “Fuck— Satoru, you.. this new.. tongue is– hngh..”

But the idiot would only look up at you as his tongue entered your pussy, lapping at your creamy walls. “Satoru! Fuck, I’m gonna—”

You moaned as you came all over his waiting tongue, the muscle having the audacity to lick your clit before pulling away.

“Taste as good as ever, baby.” He smiled, standing up to claim your lips in a kiss, letting you taste your own juices.

Just then, you felt his large cock prodding against your clit. “Mm, ’m gonna ruin you.”

It was going to be a tougher mission than you thought.

[zuzuelectricbugaloo]

Epic Sans Character Interpretation Masterlist

Some of this is canon, but for the most part this is my interpretation of the character. I might expand on or add on to this later if I forget anything or want to add on. I hope this helps!

Since Yugo is Filipino, I like to Hc that Epic is too and speaks Tagalog

And has other cultural mannerisms like not wear shoes in indoor living spaces and the only footwear would be house slippers

Epic and his Papyrus were created from test tubes

To make them, EpicGaster cut out holes in his palms.

Epic was created first years before Papyrus—it was never said when, but I believe Epic is at least 16 years or so older than EpicPapyrus and raised him given that Epic was old enough to work in a lab with EpicGaster but was clearly still younger than the other adult assistants

EpicGaster caused both the holes in Epic’s hands

And it’s why Epic hates them

Just like his Eye. It’s why he wears fingerless gloves and keeps his left eye closed most of the time

Epic’s magic, unlike all other monsters (I guess the exception could be snow types like Snowdrake but even then I think he’d be colder) is cold because of the Eye

An explanation for this

If Epic is killed/dies, the Eye will regenerate him to his previously unaffected state

However, if Epic is nonlethally injured, the injury will remain and heal at a faster rate than normal monsters, but the damage is not immediately undone like it would be if he died. Epic hates dying, so he’d take getting injured over dying even if it means he’ll scar/need to rely on his regenerative healing factor.

Epic is a genius given he was one of the Royal Scientists and worked with EpicGaster in his studies at a very young age

He has multiple PhDs (in what I assume are physics and such) and I believe has knowledge of and can vaguely see/understand a universe’s Code.

Epic loves manga and anime and makes it his job to enlighten his friends

It is his sacred duty to “make them men of culture” as well

Epic is a weeb and has tons of silly merch and collectibles

it also makes me think he’d do a lot of casual cosplay, like maybe wear Vash Stampede’s trenchcoat, but purple, and stuff like that

Epic’s style is primarily masculine, but he does enjoy gender nonconforming and feminine fashion as well

Some go to outfit HCs

Ofc, he also enjoys clothes that reference or allude to memes and pop culture. Some examples of his favorites are Cookie Monster, Shrek, Dragonball Z, and Trigun Stampede

Epic studied his Code in the past to stop dying in his dreams from the Eye.

When EpicGaster fell into the Void, he was no longer able to see through the Eye in Epic’s body. It’s a little comfort to Epic, though, and he hates and fears his Eye more than anything else

Epic is extremely depressed and often exhausted due to dying in his sleep and developing a high LV because of it. He hides behind an overly cheerful façade not as a lie but basically to “fake it ‘til he makes it”

And he is a goofy guy! I think most of it is genuine if not exaggerated

It’s easy for Epic to get emotionally blunted or numb bc of the sleep deprivation and LV, and he tries to hide this by keeping up his goofy memelord personality.

He’s used to running on little to no sleep after forcing himself to get used to it to avoid the nightmares. He’s constantly snacking on sweets and caffeinated drinks as a result

A bunch of silly headcanons that @vantriloquist came up with along with a few additions of my own that I think scream Epic

Cw: suggestive for this HC and the art but it’s all SFW:

Epic’s always carrying around condoms to use for a bit/joke that he accidentally develops the habit of nibbling on a condom wrapper whenever he’s stressed

He makes sure no one sees him do it but he kicks himself for making a bit become an addiction xD Now he’s got an oral fixation and a biting k*nk and it’s no one else’s fault but his.

Or he’s joked about them for sexy times so much that now he’s Pavloved himself to get horny whenever he or someone else holds a packet

Epic loves kids: the best “Bruhncle” ever

He loves playing with them and every child he was shown interacting with had a good time with him, like TK, Goth, baby Epic!Asriel and Palette Roller

I think Epic wants kids of his own with a loving partner but has accepted it as more of an out of reach fantasy. If he does have kids of his own he strikes me as a total wonderful girl dad who’d love the tea parties and Barbie dressups they’d do together

I think bc of this he’d be very protective of kids in general

Epic’s friends mean the world to him. Look at how much he adores Cross and would do anything for his best friend

Epic got body pillows, like his condoms and rubber chickens, as a bit

However, there is only one he’s serious about: his Hatsune Miku body pillow of grandma Miku from the AMV by Deco27 in the song called Blue Planet and is very proud of his GILF

He got a Cross body pillow as a joke and would send screenshots to Cross about taking his new best friend out to hang. Cross got jealous and stole the pillow and burned it later

Epic has goofy rizz

Earnest and sweet, he’s an absolute goofball. Think corny and so wholesome you don’t even feel the cringe anymore. I’m talking he takes you out on a date for a beautiful picnic with goodies he made and bought and when the sun sets he’d pose with a rose in his mouth and lay on his side with an arm at his waist and wiggle his boney brows when he asks “ya like jazz?”

He’d tell Cross “yo, I didn’t know my place was an art gallery since you’re drawin’ straight up masterpieces here bruh!”

Epic would tell Killer that he loved the outfit the fashionista made for him and that he loved it so much he wanted to “lovingly bite his fingers off/pos”

His flirts and compliments are memes and an unholy amalgamation of modern day and outdated lingo; nothing to make anyone uncomfortable however, consent and boundaries are important to Epic, especially after most of his were violated for the better part of his formative years by EpicGaster (shit parenting and because EG could see through the Eye, so Epic had little to no privacy or autonomy)

Like the rest of the Chromatic Crew, Epic has some meta abilities and occasionally breaks the fourth wall

For example, he can see Color’s flavor text and jokes that Color is the doge meme, much to Color’s befuddlement (my links aren’t working here so try checking out @toffeebrew they did such cute art about this)

Epic flirts but give him a genuine flirt or compliment? Bashful and shy he’s a blushy mess

Call him the cutest and sweetest man you’ve ever met and he forgets his own name in the melted puddle he becomes

Over twenty years of nonstop fighting in his sleep and gaining LV from killing the creatures of the Eye has made Epic a magic powerhouse

His mana is off the charts and it’s why he can keep up with Cross, a monster whose Soul was half of a Determined humans and now possessed DT even after his split from XChara

He doesn’t work out extensively like Cross but they do spar, as do him and Delta and occasionally Killer to socialize and not because he wants to keep his body in shape/muscled like Cross or Delta or even toned like Killer but bc he wants to stay agile and sharp against the Eye

He and Cross play fight and rough house a lot too. It may look scary to an outside observer, them snarling and growling and biting at each other like feral animals, but they’re having a blast and laugh right after and gently headbonk when it’s all done and cuddle after cooling down and play video games or smth

Epic is an astrophile

Some of his favorite dates are the stargazing ones or ones in Outertale

He has space themed clothes and outfits

When he and Papyrus were younger, Epic got stencils and threw buckets of ultraviolet paint on their bedroom walls to make glow in the dark galaxies and constellations

[thetfer]

You, anon-sect, were going about your usual routine of going to the gym and hanging out with friends. After several hours in the hot sunshine, you decided to head home. Taking a seat on the train home, you heard the pleading cries of the transformed victims trapped on your feet. You had seriously abused them today, but they were just your socks and shoes, so you didn't care. Your feet were sweating like crazy, forcing both socks and shoes to absorb it all. As you wiggled your toes within them, you could tell the shoes didn't have long left before they were completely trashed.

Looking around the train car, you noticed a perfect target to TF into new ones just a few feet away from you. He was a muscular looking stud with a handsome face that you were dying to step on as an insole. The stud was also completely distracted by his phone, making it even easier to TF him without him even realizing that he's screwed. This made your cock very hard.

Sliding yourself up the row towards him, you subtly eyed him up, imagining how comfortable he was gonna be on your feet. You pulled out the TF device and set the program to “SHOES/PERMANENT”. After making sure no one was watching, you pulled the trigger on it and fired the device at the guy. There was a bright flash of light, and as it died down, Anon-sect, you expected to see your new shoes sitting on the seat in front of you, but somehow…someway, the muscular guy was still there, completely untouched by the transformation beam. This was more than confusing for you, you had done this so many times in the past. At this point, you had probably transformed hundreds of innocent lives, irreversibly reshaped into any object you deemed them to be. No one had ever resisted the effects of your device up till this point, it was outright impossible for this guy to still be human.

You pondered what might've gone wrong, looking over the device best you can without drawing too much attention. You were angry, no, Furious that he had survived your shot, so when he started chatting with you, it took everything in you to not blow up at him.

“Hey, did your little toy break? Aww, that sucks man…”, the guy across from you spoke up, sounding exactly like the dumb ‘Jock Bro’ he appeared to be. There was a hint of sympathy in his voice, which you had to hold your breath at to keep from laughing. You had just tried to turn him into your permanent footwear, and he was saddened by your perceived “broken toy”? It made you wonder, if you told him what you had planned on doing to him, would he apologize for failing to become your shoes? Man, this guy is such an easy target, it almost felt cruel…

“No, it's not broken. It's also not a toy, but if I told you what it really was, I'd have to, in a literal sense,  put a foot in your mouth”, you snapped back at him, smirking slightly at your own sly word play and continued trying to suss out the fault in the device.

The guy had a dumbfounded look on his face, but then he seemed to catch on to something, “Uh…ohhh, like some kind of secret project? Aw, that's pretty cool man! I've actually got my own secret project goin’, wanna see!?”, 

This guy was starting to annoy you, but not to seem suspicious, you looked up at him, faining curiously.

The guy looked overjoyed to see you interested in his so called “secret project”. He excitedly turned his phone towards you and showed you the image that was on the screen. “I snapped a pic of these awesome shoes that I want, am just waitin’ on them realizing they're supposed to be there”. Despite his obvious luke-warm IQ, it was hard not to be indeered to this guy. You were ready to write him off as a dumb meathead that would soon be imprisoned on your feet…until you actually looked at the picture on his phone. It showed a pair of white coloured High-Top sneakers, with red and black accents. You had to agree, they did look pretty awesome…however, the picture depicted the shoes on the floor of the train car, the exact same one you were in…then you realized what kind of phone this guy had…it was a TF phone.

You started to feel extremely lightheaded, your surroundings spinning rapidly around you. You looked down at your own TF device and your mistake was flashing right in your face. “Please Confirm Your Settings” was displayed on its screen. You had forgotten to press confirm, and without doing that, the device would never have fired…which meant that the bright flash of a TF beam didn't come from your device after all, but instead it came from the Muscular Jock Bro's phone!

Looking up at him in horror, you slid off your seat and landed with a thud on the floor right by the guy's nasty, beat-up gym sneakers.

“Yo, what you doin’ on the floor man…? Oh, wait! Are you tryna catch a whiff of ma feets? That's kinda weird Bro, my feet really stink, but, I guess it ain't hurtin’ no one…”, and with a confused, but friendly smile, the guy kicked off his sneakers and pressed his hot, stinky, sweat-soaked socked feet right against your face. “Oh, by the way, ma names Chad! I would ask for your name, but, I don't think shoes deserve names…”, despite retaining his air-headed bubbly himbo tone, the last line he spoke had a sinister edge to it, revealing that he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

You had become completely paralyzed shortly after landing on the floor, so you could do nothing as the guy shoved his stinking,  rancid feet in your face. Was this karma…? Was the universe torturing you like this as a form of revenge on behalf of all your former victims? This was the only explanation that made sense to you. How else could you have forgotten such a simple step like press confirm on your settings, you've done that a million times! All you could do was sniff, Chad's putrid, toxic foot stink no doubt speeding up the transformation process as you felt a strange sensation in your skin.

“Uh…hey Bro!”, the guy called down to you, pretending badly to sound concerned, “you don't look so good, man…it looks like you'returnin’ whit! Are ma feets too stinky for ya!? Aw, am so sorry, Man”, his tone was dripping with sarcasm, and even worse, you could spot a very visible bulge pressing against his sweats…he was enjoying this.

His feet were so rancid,  but they were the least of your concerns. With pleading eyes, you looked up at him, begging, praying he would stop this…but the look of pleasure on his face told you that was never going to happen. As he gently stroked the sizable bulge in his pants, you felt your skin get tighter, squeezing out a few tears from your eyes…you didn't want this, you didn't want to be some guy's shoes! This guy was supposed to be your shoes!! As you felt a mix of fear and anger, your transformation seemed to accelerate, causing intense pain and discomfort as your body began to contort and reshape into its new form.

Staring down at you, the guy was now smirking, excited as he watched this happening to you. “Yo!!! Bro!!!! You're ma fuckin’ shoes now!!! Hahaha, pathetic loser!!!“, the guy eagerly watched as your horrific transformation was finalized, leaving you looking exactly like the picture on his phone.

Wasting no time, the guy pulled you onto his feet, your face instantly being squashed beneath his hot smelly foot. “Oh man, you feel so good on me, so comfortable!”, he remarked, pressing his foot down hard against your insole face.

This was Hell…not only were his feet fucking toxic, but the guy himself was a huge mound of muscle, weighing at least 400 pounds. However, your situation quickly changed from bad to worse when he pulled on the other shoe. From your experience with TFing people, you obviously knew the face became one of the insoles, but you never could figure out what formed the other insole…until now.

As Chad pulled on the other shoe, you could feel his sweaty toes sliding along your dick, before his heel settled down on top of your balls…this sensation made you want to cum so hard, but you couldn't, your cock was an insole. This orgasmic pleasure soon intensified as Chad played with the shoe on his foot, as if he knew your penis was now its insole. Pleasure turned to pain as there was no way to release the tension. 

“Oh please…please let me cum…oh god it hurts!!! Just let me cum, please god let me cum!!!”, you mentally begged, screamed and cried, but to release came. You were locked in eternal orgasm for the rest of your life!

“Oh f-fuck…”, that was the last thought you had before his full weight crushed down on your privets. You were in agony, and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

As for the muscular guy, he couldn't help but admire the quality of his new shoes! They felt high end, and super comfortable. Testing them out with a stroll up and down the train car, he found that the shoes would contract around his feet with each step, almost as if the shoes were giving his feet a massage as he walked. “Man, it was awesome of you to turn into my shoes! Am gonna wear you everyday Bro, especially to the gym! You're ma new favorite pair now!”, he excitedly informed you, mercilessly wiggling his big thick toes on you.

You screamed at the thought of that. Everyday!? There was no way you could mentally survive that! You began to cry and plead, begging to be turned human again, but it never came. You would live out the rest of your existence on his feet, smelling, tasting and feeling every second of it at 10000X the insanity of a normal human. 

Chad kept his word and wore you every single day, and to torture you even further, he also never changed his sock either. Eventually, you would begin to rot on his feet, his rancid sweat dissolving your shoe bodies. First to go was your insole cock. Chad's sweat had quickly stained it a deep orange, and once that happened, the integrity of your insole cock rapidly deteriorated with searing, blinding pain. You thought your mind was going to burn up…in fact, you hoped it would…unfortunately it stayed intact, forcing you to feel you cock and balls rot away beneath Chad's foot. Next was your face, you could both smell and taste yourself rotting, but you never died. Chad simply threw you in a closet with the rest of his rotting sneakers, leaving you to your fate in pain and agony as shoes, forever!

This is a post requested by @anon-sect Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it :)

Go check out @anon-sect and enduldge in his amazing TF stories!!

[azol-otl]

Just a silly little jaytim involving never died! Jason's big fat crush on his new friend.

Jason twirls in front of Babs again in case her Oracle eyes see something that he's missed. He worked hard on this, and he'd die of mortification if he there was a mistake he hadn't seen. He won't lie, he's kind of nervous about tonight. It's been...awhile since he's gone to do something social beyond school (and boy doesn't that make him sound like a loser) and he thinks he might have gotten a little too overenthusiastic about it. Well, Dick said it was fine but even after the coma Dick's only here every once in a blue moon and Jason isn't sure if he should take Dick's advice to heart when the man's been running around in tights since the day he was born. Plus Jason still remembers that Dick is a lying liar who lies when he thinks something would be funny or was trying to cover his ass. (Yes, he still holds that mask acne incident against him! Barbie laughed at him, Dick! Sure he now has photo evidence of Pizza Face Grayson, but still!) Everything fits him perfectly despite that last second growth spurt that finally started showing up. A tiny thing, barely an inch but it was enough to finally push him past 5ft so he's happy. His tunic fits perfectly and the stitching has an Alfred seal of approval. His armor is light, the leather looks good despite being made from old scraps of Bruce and Dick's outgrown clothes that have too much wear and tear to pass down. The cape swishes just the way he remembers, though a deep red instead of canary yellow. He decided against only tights by wearing some sturdy shorts over them, like an adventurer would, everything color matched for the time period. He looks up at Babs who's giving him a bemused look and he puffs out his chest indigently. "What?" he says tersely. "Nothing nothing," comes the amused sing song, the kind she gets when she's teasing Dick. "I just didn't expect this to be the result of introducing you to online gaming." Jason's cheeks warm but he has nothing to be ashamed of. Sure he's become...a geek after the accident. But he has friends, like actual friends close to his age that go to his school and not just co-workers six years older than him or a penpal from across the country. Plus Jason can admit he was a nerd before becoming a combo nerd/geek so it's not like his reputation took a hit. "Nothing wrong with immersion," he says. Babs gives him a wry grin. "Nothing wrong with impressing Tim you mean?"

And Jason couldn't even be mad at Barbie about that because she's absolutely right. Tabletop was Tim's thing, and Jason was excited to try it out, but it was absolutely a new thing for him. All of this was new to Jason. After being stuck with nothing but a computer for months on end any social skills Jason might have had have atrophied and what little that remains has made Jason the picture perfect geek. And he really didn't want to screw up this friendship when it was the lifeline that Jason used to actually talk to people in real life and not in front of a screen. Well, people that aren't maladjusted larpers punching criminals. "Seriously Barbie, does it look good? I don't wanna embarrass myself," Jason mumbles. This time Barbara does laugh and its just as embarrassing as the last time. "Ah, what's the world come to. Robin, the boy wonder himself, worried that he's going to embarrass his best friend in front of his Wizards and Warlocks group," she says wiping an imaginary tear from her eye. "It's Trailblazer," Jason says automatically, already having corrected Bruce, Dick, and Alfred about this for weeks. Barbara starts laughing again and Jason resists the urge to stomp out like a child. It wouldn't be dramatic anyhow, he isn't wearing shoes and he refuses to stomp in his fantasy footwear that's basically just a metal band around his arch for support. Once she stops laughing she finally takes pity on Jason. "You look fine Little Bird. I don't see anything sticking out, and the outfit looks amazing. Your little fey prince character is gonna knock it out of the park," she says and Jason feels warm enough that he doesn't even correct her that he's a halfling-changeling and not a fey anything, much less a prince.

 That warmth stays with him until he's in front of Tim's door. It's then that he thinks that maybe going all out was a terrible idea. He knows that some people dress up, but it isn't like a mandatory thing. And Tim didn't say anything about needing to dress up for Jason's first tabletop night. But Jason had been so excited. Tim didn't even finish his invitation before Jason already had a dozen designs scrambling in his head and started creating a character piece by piece. He was dragging out knowledge he hasn't touched since he was Robin. Fashion design, historical trends, and how to use them to create something tangible with the sewing lessons he had begged Alfred for back when he wanted to learn every practical skill he could. In case he got dropped like a sack of steaming shit. Crap what if they think Jason's a nerd? He had read that Traiblazer book cover to cover and made notes like it was a reading assignment! To be authentic to the setting! In case Tim's friend Ives wanted to "Um actually" Jason's meticulously created backstory and full lineage and npcs he built and sent to Tim weeks ago. Shit, maybe Jason's more of a loser than he thought if he thinks a wizards and warlocks group is too cool for him.

 He thinks about calling Alfred to pick him up and make a lie about the campaign being cancelled. Maybe he can persuade Bruce to send him back to public school instead of Gotham Academy. Then he can forget all about Tim and his goofy smile and how he puts his foot in his mouth and how cute he looked when he asked Jason to join in this game because he wanted to share something about himself with— Jason's thoughts are cut off when the door opens. He looks up, eyes wide with anxiety in his stupid changeling halfling outfit without any shoes because he wanted to be authentic. The guy across the doorway was tall, taller than Jason (but who isn't) and taller than Tim (also not an accomplishment), blonde with glasses. "Are you sure this guy's a senior, Tim," he says and Jason has to stop himself from punching out Tim's other friend.

Tim's head then pokes out of the door, funny wizard hat and all and just stares at Jason. For a full minute. It gets awkward fast but neither Jason or the other guy know what to say before Jason takes the plunge. "Hey, I'm Jason, you must be Ives?" he says forcing all his nerves as deep down as he can. Ives nods, "Sebastian Ives, don't call me by my first name." It isn't until introductions are done that Tim comes back online. "Hey! Jason! Wow! Your costume is really good! A changeling right?!" he says loudly, cheeks and ears a bright pink.

[dangermousie]

Now, we all love noble and heroic good guys. But sometimes, in the safe confines of fiction, nothing is as fun as a really trash man. Here is a description of our trash contestants:

Shen Yurong, The Double

Pros: really good at exams, flute playing and being a murderous sub.

Cons: terrible at wife murder (tho perhaps that's a plus?), moral backbone of a sponge, sis and mom would make bad in laws.

Murong Xuanlie, Kill Me Love Me

Pros: looks really good with hair loose, big on women having careers outside the home, devoted to one woman only, great kisser.

Cons: murdered 100K+ people, wants to be a fratricide, gaslight girlboss gatekeep is his motto.

Second Prince, Joy of Life 2

Pros: swing in the middle of his house, likes chess and fruit, funny.

Cons: can't decide if he wants to fuck or fuck over Fan Xian; indecisiveness is not sexy in a man.

Di Lin, Eternal Brotherhood

Pros: loving husband, great friend, victorious general, makes toys for his unborn kids.

Cons: royal executioner who puts cities and armies and families to the sword, the soap and water bills for all that blood will be huge.

Hei Long, Burning Flames

Pros: a definite style trend setter, walks barefoot everywhere thus saving money on footwear, devoted to his lover.

Cons: like the way eviler version of Zeus; only hobby appears to be enslaving humans which can get boring after a while.

Wei Zhao, Love of Nirvana

Pros: Hot, sword dance skills, you will have no in-laws.

Cons: love language appears to be choking, poisoning and stabbing.

Ruo Wen, Love in the Desert

Pros: a really good time, very few shirts, knows what to do in bed, has his own banging theme song.

Cons: murdering bandit with limited notions of consent; plus his gf will prolly stab you.

Yang Kang, The Legend of Heroes

Pros: really sexy about his daddy and mommy issues, that hair!

Cons: his murder happy identity crisis requires serious therapy he can't afford

Lu Jiaxue, The Rise of Ning

Pros: he's already got your wedding chamber, jewelry, dolls and accessories ready - perfect for a lady who doesn't like housework

Cons: chokes women like he's in a mini.

Cang Xuan, Lost You Forever 2

Pros: smart, devoted, royal, breaks down beautifully

Cons: many other wives, can feed your hands to maggots or kill your boyfriend, serious cousin kink, character massacred by the writer.

Wang Jia Luo, Heroes (2024)

Pros: can recite reams of poetry, will protect you to the utmost if you are damsel

Cons: if you are not a damsel will murder you and not blink; in fact will murder you for jaywalking as Qing reincarnation of Javert.

Please be aware I excluded MLs from minis because otherwise I could never fit anyone into one poll.

[howtofightwrite]

Clothes Followup

Hi there. Professional sportswear outfitter and part-time athelete here just chiming in on how these choices are perfectly believable, in my humble opinion: #1 SHOES "sneakers" is a loose definition. but, if the character is wearing casual/lifestyle "sneakers" like jordan lows, vans, etc., these type of shoes are FLAT (not narrow running shoes). Flat soled sneakers are often preferred training shoes for mixed arts or lifting at the gym. You could wear boots, but you're sacrificing agility. As a female, I can say that a female character likely would not inflict such a handicap as BOOTS on herself. Feet are very resilient and resistant to pain and injury. Being able to move on your feet matters a lot more than protecting them does. PASS #2 PANTS. you are not punching someone's pants while boxing. and have you watched fight club? they mostly wear jeans. they're durable, wick moisture (although it feels unpleasant), and if they're fitted properly, they're not going to get in the way of your agility. Jeans are light armor if you're speaking in tabletop rpg terms. PASS #3 SHIRT. a good tshirt of a decent quality will wick moisture, will not be bulky or baggy, and will move with its wearer. tshirts are not expensive and are the best option outside a sleeveless top or topless for martial arts. Especially if you have boobs. Boxing in only a racerback sports bra is also viable, but a tshirt will provide light protection to the skin, which is a good idea in amateur boxing. If they're WEARING GLOVES, nobody is grappling anyone's shirt so there is no risk of clothes-grabbing violations happening there. If this ring is literally underground, it's probably cold. Clothes can be shed between matches, but it's often more important to be clothed appropriately so as to prevent both overheating and chills. Becoming chilled between fights is a greater danger to performance than getting sweaty is. PASS I also have questions as to the type of boxing gloves being used. Are they full padded gloves? Light knuckle pads? Do the boxers wear headgear? Mouthguards? What areas are allowed to be hit or is it a free-for-all? Maybe you think these details are mistakes, but I disagree. Half my job is punching boxes all day. Hot, sweaty, fully clothed, wearing comfortable shoes. Lots of moving around. If I am going to punch boxes (or faces) for hours, that's exactly how I'd dress. The rest of my job? Literally outfitting people with boxing equipment. Literally selling people clothing for athletics. I am also a footwear specialist. Thank you for taking the time to read this. :) -lilkittay

So, apologies in advance, lilkittay, but you're about to get dragged. This might come as a shock, but I actually have a copy of the novel Fight Club. I just found it wedged between a copy of Hell's Angels by Hunter S. Thompson, and the Demolished Man by Alfred Bester. I'm not going to try to figure out what lead to that sorting peculiarity. The book is exceptionally good, and if you've never read it, it's an easy (if somewhat unpalatable) recommendation. Stick it up there with books like Native Son, or Ivan Denisovich, in that it covers some really ugly subject matter, but discusses a problem exceptionally well. And, in the 27 years since the novel was originally published, it has proved itself fairly prescient. It's not about the violence, it is an excellent discussion on the underlying psychology of toxic masculinity.

Now, the last time I mentioned Fight Club, someone immediately piped up with, “you've lost all credibility.” That's their problem, but I didn't actually define it, and it is a term that gets thrown around without being defined. Toxic masculinity refers specifically to an individual who cannot engage with their own emotions, particularly painful ones, in a healthy way, because they view those behaviors as effeminate. As a result, they respond aggressively and, or, violently. That's the toxic part. You get dumped. Your pet dies. You get passed over for a promotion at work. And, instead of dealing with that in a healthy way. In any healthy way. You go out into the world and try to make someone else suffer. That is toxic.

Unfortunately, Fight Club is not the grown up version of Calvin and Hobbes, though that is an amusing fan theory, and something that holds together better in the film thanks to Brad Pitt's costuming decisions.

I'm saying all of this to point out, the characters in Fight Club have no idea how to fight.

More than that, jeans are not light armor. Motorcycle leathers? Sure, those would be light armor. In fact, I'm pretty sure they're described as light armor in D20 modern. But, the only place I'd expect to see denim categorized as light armor is a game that used, “light armor,” for mage gear, “medium armor,” as rogue's leather and chain, and, “heavy armor,” as warrior gear. Which is to say, yeah, that's not how that works at all.

The problem with jeans as armor is, they're really bad at it. Someone with a crowbar? Yeah, jeans aren't going to do anything about that. Someone with an axe? I've heard about the aftermath, it was not pretty. Against a sword? Nope. Against a knife? Personal experience says the knife will win without issue. In an underground fighting arena against someone driving a shin kick into your knee? Yeah, your jeans may look fine after the fact, but you're probably not using that leg again anytime soon.

But, that RPG comment made something click together a little, so back to footwear for a second.

Why would someone wear boots? Now, personally, I wear motorcycle boots in my day to day life. Not because I'm a rider, but because I find them more comfortable and convenient than normal dress shoes, and so long as I keep them buffed out, they pass for men's dress shoes at a glance. The interesting thing about this is that my heel has a wide, flat, block of wood under it at all times. If it was a matter of life and death, I could probably grind off a significant chunk of my heel bringing a bike to a stop without suffering any injury. Now, I bring this up, because driving 200-300lbs of force behind a sharply edged wooden mallet into your unarmored instep will not improve your agility.

In the real world, armor doesn't work like D&D. There's no equivalent exchange between mobility and being able to soak a hit. (And if you think there's an irony in substituting a term from one RPG for another... well, yeah. You're not wrong.) If you think someone's going to stomp on your foot, bring steel toed boots. What you lose in agility today, you make up for in your ability to walk without a cane tomorrow.

The paradox of humans is that we are both stupidly resilient, and horrifically fragile, at the same time. Now, at this point, I do want to say something genuinely nice to you, even if it sounds a tiny bit condescending. You've never looked at another person as 150-250lbs of ambulatory meat and considered the best way to take them apart with your hands. And you know what? That is a good thing. Embrace that, and don't let go, because never finding yourself in that kind of a place is a credit to you, and the world you've been able to live in.

All of that said, fighting another human being is not a workout. It's engineering. You're looking at an organic machine with roughly the same parts and pieces you have, and your goal is to make that machine stop thrashing around, screaming, and leaking on everything, before it does the same to you. It's not better. It's not worse. It's different, and it comes with different considerations. You don't dress to look good or stay comfortable, you dress to avoid life altering injuries if at all possible.

Competitive fighting does land at a meeting point of these two considerations however. The fighter wants to come out intact, the sponsors want good show, one that will draw an audience. This leads to things like fighting in a sports bra. Yes, it may be the most, “agile,” option, but if you're going to be in a fist fight, a heavy leather jacket, preferably one with fiberglass plates may not breathe, but it will take far more abuse than your body can. (Actually, I think sometimes the inserts are made out of memory foam these days, which should also take a hit pretty effectively, especially against an unarmed foe.)

This isn't a major issue, but it is something to consider, when thinking about the temperature of the arena, it's important to remember that human body heat in a crowded space is somewhat cumulative. So, a room that starts out at around 60 degrees, could easily warm up to a comfortable temperature once the spectators are present. There's actually consistent math for calculating what you should set the thermostat for in an amphitheater when it's unoccupied so that the temperature is comfortable when the seats are filled, but I can't remember the numbers, and can't find it on short notice.

You do bring up a good point, the original Anon did not specify what kind of gloves were used. I assumed those were nominally regulation boxing gloves, but those could be something like the UFC gloves from a couple decades back, that left the fingers exposed while armoring the knuckles. The armor on those gloves allowed the wearer to inflict all kinds of horrific injuries on one's foes. In an event Michi is quite happy to recount, her younger brother almost lost an eye to a skull fracture from one of those during a poorly supervised sparring bout. It's fairly credible to suggest that an illegal fight club might use those simply to excite the crowds with actual bloodshed.

Now, as someone who has worked in shipping, I know full well that sometimes boxes do hit back. However, they are the exception rather than the rule. There's nothing wrong with practicing on punching bags, but boxes aren't trying to break you. At worst, they may just want to take a nap on the floor without regard to whether you're in the way or not. Live opponents? They're looking at you as however many pounds of meat machinery, and trying to end you. Looking good doesn't make their job harder, but armoring up does.

Anyway, like I said to the original Anon, nothing in their explanation was outright wrong. A lot of it was non-optimal, but not to such a degree as to shatter belief. The mistake you're making, and I really do say this with respect, is that you're looking at it like any other physical activity. As I said, combat is not a work out. Combat as a hazardous environment beyond the reach of OSHA. You wear protective gear (if you can) because that protection may be the difference between walking out alive and (basically) unharmed, or never walking again. You wouldn't (or at least, really shouldn't) take a bike out on the freeway at 60mph in jeans and a tees, you really don't want to get in a fight wearing them either.

-Starke

This blog is supported through Patreon. Patrons get access to new posts three days early, and direct access to us through Discord. If you’re already a Patron, thank you. If you’d like to support us, please consider becoming a Patron.

[tarvyunderscore]

PART 4 AS MY CREATIVITY HAS CAUGHT A SECOND WIND!! Carmilla Carmine, the girlboss herself

More info about the process below:

Out of all the characters in Hazbin Hotel, I definitely like her the most. Her color palette is very pleasing to me as well as just her design in general. This redesign was mostly for fun and to match her with the others, since I'm going for a more demonic look for all of them.

So I did change her color palette despite me liking it, this was really because the pink just didn't fit anymore. I tried a lot of shades but it ended up being to jarring with the more muted colors.

The purple suits her too though, I think it makes her look more mature if that makes sense? Other than that I didn't change much aside from having more of a variety in shades of grey, white, and black.

Anyway, now to my critiques of her design.

I realllly like how she's wearing armor, but I personally think it isn't enough. She's incredibly intelligent and a weapons dealer, she's definitely going to deck herself out with protection. Not all of it is angelic steel, only her claws, footwear, and helmet are.

My biggest issue is that I don't really know what theme Vivzie was going for. Yes, she's a ballerina, but why? Just like I said with Vox, there's a lot of ideas but no commitment. So much is going on that I don't really know what she's supposed to be.

In order to help with this, I narrowed it down to what I think fits her most, a swan.

This both makes her depiction as a ballerina make sense, and ties into who she is as a character.

She's willing to do whatever it takes for the people she loves, specifically her daughters. Many people speculate that they may have died with her, possibly BECAUSE of her, and you know how important they are to her. Swans are incredibly aggressive because they have to fend everything away from their children, she is no exception.

Anyway, I think she's one of my favorites out of the bunch, hope you like her too :)

DISCLAIMER: I'm not whaling on the of designs out of malice, these are PERSONAL critiques. I like the series and I'm doing this out of a love for character design.

[twosides--samecoin]

Plz I’m begging, can you give me an enlightenment of what a modern Maccready would wear. I’m dying to style him modernly and have no clue what he’d wear 🙂‍↕️

Hey gamer, thanks for the ask!

RJ grew up in Little Lamplight. The real life version is Luray Caverns, nestled 75 miles away from DC and protected by Shenandoah State Park and George Washington National Forest. I grew up in a town with a teen pregnancy problem where people wore RealTree Camo to prom. I now live a couple hours from Luray, so I feel Modern RJ is someone who I could have gone to high school with.

He grew up country as fuck - there's not an ounce of city slicker in RJ. All the street smarts he has is because he was observant enough to earn them. When he says he's from DC, it's because he knows it's the closest city he grew up near that anyone in Boston's gonna recognize. His fashion can't be bought in Georgetown or the Prudential Center, unless the trend of the day is blue collar chic being sold to the rich.

Modern RJ was the kind of country kid who's teenage uniform was a green flannel and a Master of Puppets Metallica shirt. He was the kind of scrawny where he was 130 pounds soaking wet and 2% body fat and wore the same blue jeans from ages 14 through 17. His second fave shirt featured Iron Maiden's Live After Death.

He cherished them; like many country kids who feel a bit different from their peers, he clung to his band shirts. You wouldn't catch him dead in Carhartt and RealTree unless he literally died while hunting. Not that he wasn't proud of his friends, or ashamed of where he was from - he just dreamed of getting out. Band shirts represented something bigger, a Great Beyond; a world he wanted to travel, a life he was priced out of living as an orphan from Virginia.

Buying clothes is not something RJ enjoys - he's a single dad and feels a level of guilt attached with spending money on himself, knowing how much grocery money would be wasted on a leather jacket and pair of jeans (speaking of groceries, RJ has a family of three to feed - Duncan insisted they keep that damn German Shepherd who followed RJ home from his mechanic shift at the Red Rocket). He's still driving the same red rusted-to-fuck '96 Chevy Silverado that he kissed Lucy in for the first time, the same one that drove them out of Virginia. Maintains it himself since he can get the parts at cost.

Though he's frugal, Modern RJ is picky about his fashion. His closet isn't one that features abundance. His clothing is utilitarian; earth tones in a range of faded browns and greens, duck canvas, twill denims with no stretch. A heavy mechanic jumpsuit for work. The coolest colours he wears are grey thermal shirts and a blue shearling jacket when in colder weather. There's an olive green jacket he likes in the springtime. He prefers a tough, protective pair of leather boots for everyday footwear. For casual shoes; given the choice between Chuck Taylors and Vans, he'd wear whichever was on sale, but preferably the Chucks.

He has a few long sleeve button-downs out of an eye-rolling necessity for job interviews. He hates wearing ties and has never owned a suit. Before she died, Lucy gifted him a brown shearling leather jacket to wear on his motorcycle.

He's most comfortable wearing his old green flannel and band shirts. Otherwise, he can be found wearing a white t-shirt and blue Levi's every now and then - Lucy always liked Bruce Springsteen.

When you grow up can't-rub-two-pennies-together poor, it means you appreciate the material things in a different kind of way. RJ's clothing is all about emotional comfort and memories; he's afraid to let go.

I loved writing this! Thanks for sending me the ask, anon! The people demand my RJ brainrot and I aim to please <3 Thanks again & have a great day :)

BONUS: An outfit mod I am working on for RJ!

[elliebyrrdwrites]

AU Dramione Drabble...

The Officer:

Smoke curled around him as Draco stared at her through the window from across the street. The end of his cigarette burned, reflecting against the glass. Like a little red firefly, it burned bright as he sucked on it. It flashed into existence, before it died a slow death. She was busy, refilling cups of coffee. Clearing empty ones. Dusting off the crumbs from a pastry from the tabletops. 

Tucking a rogue curl behind her ear as she stared into the empty pastry case. Frowning into the empty cups. Tracing circles into the wood grain of the tables she cleaned. 

Hermione, the girl from the café, had something about her. It captivated him. Something about her eyes held a certain allure. They were deep, fathomless. Like she had lived a hundred lifetimes. There was no doubt in Draco’s mind that she had built a tough exterior. Something about her was soft, though. 

Around her eyes, he thinks as he squints through the smoke, watching her move through the tasks of her job with fluidity, each motion memorized and well practiced. Deceptively calm. Her eyes are almond shaped, a gentle brown with a touch of honey. Like coffee with a hint of cream and sugar. 

Her mouth was full, the shade of a cherry blossom right before it withered away from the branch it bloomed on. Her name was like a one word poem. A iambic trimeter that was more emotion than meaning. Her -mio-ne. Her- mio -ne. She was like the kind of poem you know not what it means, what the poets intent was when she wrote it. But it resonated with you, anyway. 

Draco didn’t know what he was doing here. Watching her. She was off limits. He was off limits. 

Again, he surmised, it must be the eyes. They pulled him in, ensnaring him from the second she looked at him when he entered the night before. His entire night was plagued by the memory of her. The feel of her warm against his, something sparking between them. 

Chemistry, perhaps. 

Something the new regime claimed was behind the matches they declared beneficial for humankind. Despite what all of the officials printed in their reports, Draco knew it was all bullshit. They were just trying to track the population of magical folk. They were trying to study it, using all of their chemistry and science to study them. Lab rats. 

He knew all their secrets. 

But he was not interested in remember theirs. He wanted to know hers.

Her-mio- ne .

Draco lowered his cigarette, and eyed the dying tip. He licked the tip of his thumb and index finger and pinched the end of it, satisfied with the hiss of the miniscule fire inside of the paper being put out. The moisture on his fingers evaporated with it. 

Flicking it to the ground, still damp with residue of rain from earlier. He waited until the last customer left. He watched as her shoulders curved in, relaxing just a little. Enough to show pain of tension burning into her muscles from holding the weight of the world. 

Draco crossed the empty street. Still watching through the windows as she massaged the back of her neck. As she swayed to the music coming from the speakers inside the building. He couldn’t hear it, but he recalled the somber sound of trumpets and piano from the night before. The deep, crooning voice. Her shoulders rocked side to side, her neck loosening up as she allowed the rest of her body to react to the music. 

Yes. Draco was intrigued. 

He approached the glass door, and watched as her hips moved along with the slow, steady rhythm. Her chunky loafers were non-slip footwear appropriate for her job. The knee high socks, black skirt and white shirt? He wasn’t so sure it was appropriate. But he appreciated them, nonetheless. The way the fabric of the skirt brushed along the back of her thighs

His eyes flicked up to the little bell on the door, before slowly and quietly, pushing it open. She kept dancing, her arms moving to wrap around her body. She hugged herself as if she hadn’t been hugged in ages. Like she was missing the feeling of a warm embrace. 

Draco knew the feeling. 

He moved silently toward her, eyeing the way the apron tied at her back, cinching her white, oversized shirt, into her waist. The horns began to pick up, her arms dropped to her sides, her shoulders moved and her fingers snapped in tandem with the notes of the rhythm section as her feet shuffled side to side. 

Draco had not found himself so ardently enraptured with anyone like this, before. Had no control over the way his lips lifted into a smile that suddenly felt foreign, but so easily put on. It was unlike him. 

Her feet began to step in a way that told him that she knew what she was doing. Like she belonged on a dance floor with a partner holding her hands. She belonged with this music. It belonged with her. 

The trumpet’s notes moved quicker and quicker as Hermione began to step and rock her body in a way that demanded his full attention. Particularly when it came to her hips. 

His fingers twitched, the need to reach out and rest them on the flare of her hips a sudden and petulant need. 

The notes were pulled out, the rhythm quickening before the finale of the song struck, ending abruptly as she spun on the ball of one foot, her arms out to the side. Her eyes were closed and she completed a full spin before slamming her left foot down, arms still splayed out to her side. 

She was breathing a little heavier, and though she was still faced away from him, he felt that her smile was a palpable force. He could sense it. Suddenly, it was obvious that Hermione was not as somber as he thought. 

At least, not when she was dancing. 

Draco began to applaud her, his hands coming together softly but the sound somehow thunderous in the little coffee shop. 

Her breath stalled, her entire body freezing upon realization that she was not actually alone. 

“You dance.” He mused, stuffing his hands into his pockets again, still fighting the urge to reach for her hips. Her hand. 

Her.

With a long and slow exhale that trembled as it left her, Hermione slowly turned to face him, her hands still thrown out to her sides. When she was fully facing him, her hands shot down to her sides, fingers gripping at the rough material of her black apron. 

“How long–” Her voice was pitched, her eyes big and rounded out as she nervous looked around the cafe. Her eyes darted to the empty tables, the wall of windows behind him. The door. She cleared her throat and rolled her shoulders back, and Draco marveled at the way her expression changed from shock to neutral in the blink of an eye. 

She tilted her head down, eyeing the tiled floor beneath their feet. “I don’t dance. I was just…” She bit down on her lip and he knew she was struggling to come up with a lie. 

“You were dancing.” He clarified, masking his glee with a frown. He was well practiced, himself. Practiced in keeping his true emotions hidden from everyone. To expose yourself in a world like this was dangerous, to say the least. “You were enchanting.” He added, despite himself.

Her eyes shot back up to his. They stared at each other, neither willing to give themselves away. Well, mostly. He had failed, already. He was breaking all of the rules with this one. 

Her cheeks grew warm, pink tinted as she cleared her throat and straightened out her apron, unnecessarily. “Double espresso?” She offered, and he could have sworn that in her eyes, something sparked as her lips twitched against a small smile. She fought it and he knew that eventually, he would unearth it. He would find a way to make her smile. He would find a way to make that smile his own. 

He watched her from where he stood as she prepared the same drink from the night before. The soft whirl frothing milk with the tinkle of piano put Draco in quite a surreal moment. His entire life, he had never encountered a moment such as this. A moment that soothed and flustered him all at once. 

She was quietly humming along with the crooning voice of a woman. She sounded like she was in pain. Not the physical kind, the kind of pain only love could cause. Whether it be the love of a partner or a kin, the pain was much more visceral. The woman’s voice was hauntingly beautiful as she sang of her pain. Her loss. Her love. 

The glow of the dim lights against the midnight backdrop of the coffee shop created the kind of atmosphere you might find in a dream. He considered the fact that he might be. Coming in here last night was by chance. He was unfamiliar with the area. The majority of his life was spent sheltered in Texas. He was put through vigorous training and had recently been enlisted, forced by his father to join the official ranks of a regime that had treated his family well. 

Mostly. 

This was only his second assignment. His father left California, returning to Texas before he would be shipped out to somewhere up north, ordered to keep a lock down on the Northern border instead of the south. 

That job was to go to Draco, after all. He had entered this coffee shop last night, in a way to find refuge or a place of solace as he wrapped his mind around the job he was forced to accept. 

His eyes refocused on her as she carried the drink to the table he occupied last night. He turned his head to follow her, eyeing the perfect layer of foam dusted with cinnamon. 

When she straightened and looked over at him, he turned to face her and pulled his hands from his pockets. “Do you often work at night? Alone?” 

“I only work nights.” Her shoulders lifted in a shrug. 

He approached her, the table and the coffee. Slowly. “Why is that?” 

Her eyes darted down to his arms, exposed from when he rolled up his sleeves. The tattoo that was branded into him upon his enlistment was stark against his pale skin. The mark of the regime forever imprinted on him. As if he hadn’t spent his life being reminded of its existence. As if he would ever forget who and what he lived for. 

He watched her eyes narrow in on his arm as she pressed her lips together before she replied. “I have another job.” 

His brow lifted as he reached for the porcelain mug. “You do?”

She nodded, her chin lifting. He thought she looked defensive. Stubborn. 

Adorable. 

“What job is that?”

She didn’t want to tell him. He could practically feel the battle inside of her mind as he allowed himself to thoroughly appreciate the heart shaped mouth. Her oval face with a dusting of cinnamon freckles along her cheekbones. On skin the color of milk with a splash of coffee. 

She sighed, apparently relenting. “I work at the motel on Broadway, cleaning rooms.” 

“The Six?” He took a sip of. It was made perfectly. The perfect ratio of sweet, bitter and milk.

She nodded, curtly. 

He nodded too, but asked. “Why do they call it The Six. Doesn’t it have like twenty odd rooms?”

She scowled up at him, momentarily unable to control her features from showing her emotions. Draco found himself in a similar situation, the edges of his mouth curling into a smirk. 

“Perhaps it started out with six.” She hissed in response before her eyes went wide in shock. “I mean,” She shook her head. 

But Draco kept smirking and nodded at her, lifting his mug at her. “No, do go on.” 

She spun away from him and he watched her return behind the line that separated the space for employees and the space for customers. She went to grab a wet towel from the red bucket of water he imagined was actually a cleaning solution. 

He followed her, toeing the invisible line as she spun to face him. “I wouldn’t know why they name it The Six ,” she said. “I am just a lowly maid.”

Draco stepped over the invisible line and her eyes widened again. “Why are you working two jobs?” He asked as she stepped back, alarmed by his brazen refusal to follow the unspoken rule. Draco didn’t have to follow most rules the civilians followed. Only the ones put upon him by his father and the regime. Rules that were much frightening than a silly line imagined by some small business owner. 

“You can’t come back here.”

“Doesn’t your father take care of you?” He asked, narrowing his eyes on her, still holding his mug in his left hand, his other in his pocket. 

She rolled her eyes as she scoffed but she refused to answer. Instead, she lifted her hand and pointed to the space on the other side of the pastry case. On the other side of the point of sale station. The empty café beyond. 

“Have a seat and drink your coffee.” She looked annoyed as her eyebrows pinched and her nose scrunched up. “Let me do my job.”

Draco did no such thing. This was the most fun he could remember having in…well, forever. “No father, then.” He mused out loud and she opened her mouth to respond but he cut her off. “Your mother?” 

Her mouth clamped shut as she exhaled through her nose.

“Also gone?” He asked, his tone gentler than the taunting drawl he had previously used on her. 

She nodded once, shifting her eyes to the windows as another armored truck hurried, the sirens blotting out the sound of the piano and trumpets as Draco refused to look. He knew exactly where those trucks were going to or leaving from. In an hour, he would be there, too. 

“I’m sorry.” He said, pulling her eyes back to focus on him. “My mother is gone, too.” He couldn’t understand why he was telling her this. She probably didn’t care. But she should. Because he was an officer, the son of Lucius Malfoy and he was breaking every one the rules his father had pressed upon him.  “Died when I was born.” 

Her eyes softened. “I’m sorry.” Her words were gentle as they reached him. 

He shrugged and took another sip. “Don’t be.” He drained his cup before setting it onto the tray full of empty mugs. He watched her collect them all throughout the night. He pulled his hand free of his pocket, another brand new gold mark in his hand as he held it out for her. 

Her eyes became guarded, once more, as she reached out her hand, opening it up to the ceiling. 

Slowly, deliberately, he placed the mark into her hand, ensuring that he felt the warmth of her skin brushing against his before he nodded to her and turned around. 

If he didn’t leave now, he’d break more rules. Rules that were put in place to keep him in line. To keep him protected from people like her. 

“Hermione,” He called over his shoulder. When he stepped outside, he glanced back to find her staring down at her hand, her arms still lifted and stretched out as if reaching for him. 

She looked stunned by whatever it was she saw there. Perhaps it was what she felt. Perhaps there was chemistry there, after all. 

When her eyes lifted back up to meet his gaze. They were captivating, bright and deep. He wondered what secrets she was keeping in there. He smiled at her. “See you tomorrow?”

Her lips parted in shock but he turned and left before she could respond. 

Yes, Draco thought. It must be the eyes.

[aimportantdragoncollector]

Cruella De Vil AU! Does Yoichi get mistaken for a sickly cub and gets adopted by a bunch of white tigers?

For new people the premise of this AU is that AFO is an ordinary if corrupt fashion CEO obsessed with making a coat from a white tiger. Your idea actually ties in very well with the events as I imagined them:

-AFO sends his minions to the jungle to hunt the tiger because he's way too important to do it himself. The minions are Machia and Garaki and they can't stand each other.

-Yoichi shows up just behind them to warn park ranger Second about the tiger poachers. Then Yoichi insists on coming along to stop them. Second tries to dissuade him, but Yoichi says he will go into the jungle himself if Second doesn't let him come along. Second considers how much trouble it would be if a Japanese tourist died in the jungle and reluctantly agrees.

-Yoichi thinks that he knows all about wilderness survival from his comics. In fact, Yoichi's comics taught him useless stuff like "moss grows on the north sides of trees" and nothing about proper footwear for jungles or that monkeys bite if you try to pet them. In most of my AUs, Second immediately simps over Yoichi. But this is the AU where Second spends the whole trip longing to ship Yoichi back to Japan in a cardboard box. Yoichi thinks that park rangers are amazingly cool and spends the whole trip trying and miserably failing to impress his new crush. (It's okay, Second will eventually start to find the stupidity endearing. Yoichi is lucky that he is pretty.)

-Second gets in a pitched battle with poachers Garaki and Machia. He's down with a bullet in the shoulder, then Yoichi uses a hairspray and matches to create a miniature flamethrower and send the poachers' jeep over a cliff. This is the moment when Second falls in love. Unfortunately Yoichi falls off the cliff too.

-When a very worried Second tracks Yoichi down, he's in a cave surrounded by two mated female tigers and their cubs. Yoichi believes that his awesome comic book wilderness abilities have successfully tamed the tigers. Actually the tigers have mistaken him for a sickly cub and are trying to nurse him back to health. (Yes, I know this is not how tigers work but this is crack.)

-The tigers are Second's adopted family. He was raised by tigers in the jungle since he was a baby Mowgli-style, and the tigers adopted Yoichi partly because he smells like their son/big brother. (This is the rare AU where Second is not afraid of cats, but cats are afraid of him because he smells like tiger.) Second spends a lot of time persuading his Moms to let Yoichi go by promising to look after the weak little cub and bring him for visits.

-Yoichi sends his big brother lots of pictures posing with tigers and brags about how having a living tiger is way cooler than a coat. This launches AFO's epic obsession with getting a pet white tiger. Which is at least better than him trying to kill tigers, so...happy ending?