#so many good drawing ideas........................

[chyarui]

Infinity Hashira Gojo Satoru 🩵

I binged basically all of demon slayer over the weekend and this wouldn’t leave my brain

Let me know if you guys are curious about any headcanons (or if you guys wanna see more jjk characters 👀)!!!

[watermelonlovershigh]

can we have some smut that sort of focuses on the bulge 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 like y/n sort of admiring it clothed and just being so into that

5 Times You've Obsessed Over Harry's Bulge (SMUT)

AN: I had too many ideas for this concept so i decided to turn this into one of my numbered fics. where i give several different scenarios. hope that's alright. don't forget to leave me your feedback and enjoy. xoxo

This contains: implications of sex, dirty talk, fluff, mild angst, jealousy, dry humping

{ husband!harry - softrry - au!harry (aka not famous in this) }

word count- 1,989

Five different scenarios where you admire and love on Harry's bulge.

There is an undeniable attraction to Harry's bulge that captivates your attention. Regardless of whether he's dressed in jeans, sweatpants, shorts, or underwear, his bulge is striking and turns you on. It's not solely the moments when his hard dick is evident beneath his clothing that draw you in; even in a relaxed state, he's so big that a subtle outline is noticeable between his legs if one chooses to observe. But note that your admiration for Harry's bulge is entirely positive and respectful. Being married, you appreciate how much he enjoys your liking to that part of him, and it brings him joy to know that you cherish something in which he exclusively shares with you.

Here's some of the instances when you gawk and drool over Harry's bulge (hard or not hard):

1.) Harry has just stepped out of the shower, and you're in bed, patiently waiting for him to join you for the night. You can hear him moving around in the bathroom, likely drying off and brushing his teeth. Moments later, he swings the bathroom door open in only his briefs, letting out a rush of humid air, and makes his way into the bedroom after turning the bathroom lights off.

Before he can walk to his side of the bed, you mutter, "Nu-hu."

Harry stops to look at you suspiciously. "What?"

You gesture for him to approach you with your index finger, and Harry complies. He walks up to your side of the bed, per your request. At this point, his lower body aligns with the height of the bed, bringing his bulge almost directly in front of you. You can tell he isn't hard just from recognizing what his relaxed appendage looks like. However, the considerable size of him creates a pronounced outline in his boxer briefs.

You look down between his legs and shift closer to the edge of the bed, leaning in to place a gentle kiss directly on his bulge. Harry lets out a soft moan. "Baby, mhm. What'r you doin'?"

Smiling up at your husband, you reply, "Giving little Harry a kiss goodnight."

Harry tilts his head back and laughs heartily. "Oh, little Harry is gonna offer you much more than just a goodnight kiss in return." He climbs onto the bed, positioning himself over your body, and it's evident that the soft bulge that was previously concealed in his underwear has become firm and is now nestled between your legs.

2.) As you're lounging on the couch, Harry burst through the door, breathless and slick with sweat from his morning run around the neighborhood. You can't help but to drool over his appearance. His hair is secured in a small claw clip on the top of his head, and his skin is shimmering with a sun-kissed hue. He has a way of looking exceptionally good after a workout. Especially when his bare, yet tattooed chest is visible. As well as the defined bulge between his legs that's quite eye-catching.

Standing up from the sofa, you make your way over to where Harry's kicking his running shoes off and wrap your arms around him in a hug. Giggling, Harry speaks, "Baby, m' all sweaty and probably stink."

Still latched on to him in a hug, you reply, "Don't care. You're so hot after a run."

Harry now becomes cocky, loving the way you're speaking about him. "Yeah? Does it turn you on?"

You give a slight nod and let one of your hands glide down, carefully cupping his bulge through his tight running shorts. Harry almost falls, his knees nearly collapsing. Fortunately, you're there to steady him in your hold.

As you feel his bulge begin to grow in your hand, you kneel and carefully pull down his shorts, offering him a blowjob right in the foyer of your house. The slight taste of sweat introduces an additional flavor, but you proceed with the same eagerness as always.

Harry feels honored to have a wife who finds him so appealing that you'll engage in such activities after his exercise, a sentiment not many people would consider doing.

3.) You're on a short road trip. Harry has arranged a delightful surprise: a weekend escape to a charming Airbnb cabin located in the woods. As he drives, you sit comfortably in the passenger seat, with the soothing sounds of Fleetwood Mac playing gently in the background.

With the windy roads and calm scenery, Harry can't help but let his mind wander to you and how much he loves you. How special you are to him. How he can't wait to make love to you in front of the cozy fireplace at the cabin that awaits you both.

Deep in his thoughts, it takes Harry a few minutes to realize his cock was hardening up in his jeans. He didn't mean to get hard while driving, it just sort of happened. But that's what tends to happen anytime he starts daydreaming about you. He chalks it up to being a love boner.

For a while, Harry sits in his seat uncomfortably, occasionally shifting to adjust himself. After the tenth time of moving in his seat, you begin to notice and question, "You alright, babe? Gotta pee or something?"

Trying to play it off, Harry lies, "Nope, m' fine. All good." That's when you take a closer look and notice the bulge between his legs.

"Harry, you're hard. What's got you so worked up while you're driving?"

Embarrassed, he admits, "Fine, was thinkin' about you and how much I love you and all the things I wanna do to you at the cabin. Didn't mean to get hard."

With a softer tone, you reply, "Yeah, that's so sweet of you, baby." Harry thinks the moment is over, but he's caught off guard when he feels your hand move across the center console to grasp him over his jeans. He tilts his head back, moaning softly, as you continue to rub your palm over his bulge, aiming to make him jizz in his pants. Ultimately, he finds it necessary to pull over, as his foot on the gas pedal begins to tremble, and he wishes to avoid any danger of crashing.

4.) It was the middle of July when you and Harry decide to enjoy a day at the beach. You're wearing your black bikini, and Harry's sporting his tight yellow swim trunks. You spend most of your time lying on your beach towel, attempting to tan, while Harry lays next to you for a short period before opting to take a swim.

He instructs you to sit up and watch him, reminiscent of a young child, and you find it quite endearing. Harry ventures a few feet into the water as the waves collide with his tattooed chest, and you notice him waving at you with his sun-kissed arms.

Moments later, Harry emerges from the salty sea, and you observe closely as he approaches your designated area on the beach. You notice several beachgoers directing their attention towards him, and you even hear a man whistle as your husband walks by. This fires up a hint of jealousy within you, yet you find solace in the fact that he'll be in your bed tonight, not theirs.

As Harry stands before you, water cascading down his body, the reason for the attention he's receiving becomes evident. While it's a known fact that he's generally considered an attractive man, it's the unmistakable outline of his cock that's visible through his wet swim shorts that's captured the gaze of onlookers. You're aware that Harry usually exhibited some form of a bulge, but the thin fabric of his swimwear, now soaked, leaves little to the imagination.

While you admire the view, you're less than pleased that everyone else on the beach is enjoying the same sight. You tug at Harry's hand, urging him to take a seat beside you on his towel. "Ouch! What was that for?"

Turning your head to face him, you whisper, "Your swim trunks, Harry."

Confused, Harry asks, "What about them?"

With a sigh of frustration, you express, "You can see everything in those shorts. They fit snugly around your hips and they're thin and wet. The outline of your dick is clearly visible. Your bulge is very defined right now."

"Thought you liked my bulge?" Harry speaks with a cheeky smile.

"Harry, you know I do but I don't want the whole beach to see it too."

With a more serious tone, Harry conveys, "M'love, I could be fully unclothed, wanderin' this beach, and let me assure you: you are the only one who has the right to touch my body. You're the only one who truly sees me, both outwardly and inwardly. Not anyone else."

Smiling back, you retort, "So, does that mean I could walk around naked too and....."

Before you even get a chance to finish, Harry cuts you off. "Nope, absolutely not. Not a chance I'll let anyone see you naked. That's for my eyes only."

5.) What started out as a cozy cuddle on the couch while watching a movie, quickly develops into a heated make-out session. The idea that making out is only for teenagers and not for married couples is fundamentally incorrect. You and Harry love making out with one another.

You're situated over Harry, who's lying along the length of the sofa. He's wearing only his underwear, as the plan was to head to bed right after the movie. You, in contrast, are dressed in just a pair of panties and an oversized t-shirt.

As the kisses get more and more heated, the more you can feel Harry growing between your legs. Your cunt is aligned directly over his erect cock, resulting in fabulous pressure against your clothed clit. So what do you choose to do? You begin to grind down over the prominent bulge in his briefs.

"Oh, fuck, baby!" Harry groans between kisses.

Lowering your mouth along the scruffy surface of his face, you notice your breathing becoming more intense. "Feels so good, Harry. Your bulge is so big and hard between my legs." You continue to move your hips, appreciating the way his clothed cock presses against your clit as you continue to dry hump his bulge. Your wet patch now seeping through your panties and onto the front of his own underwear.

At first, Harry considers stopping you, thinking to suggest that you just pull him out of his briefs and actually fuck yourself on his dick. However, he becomes captivated with the way you're lost in your own pleasure, moving against him so freely. Therefore, he opts to relax and let you take the lead, letting you do as you please.

After about three minutes of dry humping his enlarged bulge, you pant out in his warm neck, "I'm gonna come, H."

"Shh, it's okay, baby. Come f'me. Come over m'cock. Know it feels so good on your little clit doesn't it?" He strokes your back in a soothing manner and starts to elevate his hips in rhythm with your movements, which have slightly faltered. The extra pressure from his upward grinding pushes you to your peak. You tremble and shake over top of him.

Harry makes a sincere effort to hold back his own orgasm, intending to wait until you've finished and then allow you to get him off in a different way. He's always found the experience of coming in his underwear to be quite an unpleasant feeling, particularly due to the messy cleanup that follows. However, he ultimately can't hold back. As soon as he feels your pussy fluttering over his bulge, he succumbs to his orgasm, resulting in his cum coating the inside fabric of his briefs and pubic hair.

When you both finally calm down, you allow your body to relax over his and say, "God, do I love your bulge. Felt so good."

(PLEASE REBLOG BECAUSE WRITING IS NOT EASY AND IT'S FREE SO JUST DO IT)

(if you want to be apart of my new tag list, let me know right here !! )

taglist: @swiftmendeshoran // @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite // @hsonlyangelxo // @lunabai // @ppleasingg // @harryscherrysugar // @devilsqueen722

My Masterlist Masterpost

[akanemnon]

AKANE YOU HAD NO RIGHT

YOU HAD NO RIGHT TO MAKE KRIS CRY OMFG

IT'S TOO MUCH TRAUMA-

No but fr is so much trauma I wanna give them a hug...

They honestly need it

I'm sending Kris and Frisk hugs.

Anyway comic unrelated.

I got some ideas for an au that isn't a swap au. At least not character swap. Expect in my next ask a sketch :3

I'M HOLDING STRONG WITH THE WEEKLY ASK

Like damn I'm sure I'm annoying but everyone who is dear to me knows I'm annoyed :3

Also love your art.

It's beautiful.

You are a great person too, if you ever need another break, we won't judge you :3

Now another question.

How do you do it. How do you draw hair. I absolutely suck. I can draw hands and eyes but the hair!?!?!? PLEASE TELL ME YOUR SECRET AKANE PLEASEEEEE

I told you Kris would cry eventually. Crying is good for the soul. I've done plenty of it recently.

As for your question, it really depends on the style you wanna go for. The "Twin Runes style" is very shape-based. There are not too many details but also not too little. What I personally like to do is choosing hairstyles that are easy to draw but also add to a character's silhouette. The goal is to make the character recognizable, even without any features. That is one of the reasons why the humans have that cowlick thing going on for example. Zero for Chara, one for Frisk, and two for Kris. It adds to the silhouette. Other than that, I try not to go too overboard with the details for the hair. Not only would that be jarring with the rest of the style, but it also would be a bitch to constantly draw.

[marie-12205]

After i decided to draw kaiko as a nightfury i went to search for reference ideas on how would i draw her and paint her but the thing is i realy cant choose on one designe because they all gave me good idea but i cant put them all.

Some are for color placement and other's are for design ideas.

[gojoswhitebabydolllashes]

Hi! i dont know if youre taking requests, its my first time doing this BUT. Can i get Jayvik reaction to tattooed reader but they never knew cuz reader is always in long sleeves and long bottoms/pants. 🫶🏻

Hi Anon! I love this idea! I wasn't sure if you wanted them together or separately, so I did a bit of both.

-

HCS OF JAYVIK REACTION TO FINDING OUT YOU HAVE TATTOOS. (Seperate and together)

I hope this was good😭

JAYCE

-he's never thought about it before.

-When he got told you were from the undercity, he thought perhaps you had some kind of markings on you but it left his mind after a while.

-Since he's never seen you completely naked, its never been a thing to think about. Every now and then he thinks he sees a small drawing on your arm but then it disappears somehow.

-one night, while working in the lab, you were unaware anyone was in the lab with you as it was dark, so you took off your coat, revealing your intricate tattooed arms.

-not wanting to scare you, jayce called out your name quietly and even then, he still scared you.

- "jayce!" You exclaimed.

- "You didn't tell me you had tattoos love, let alone ones so beautiful"

- you thought he'd hate them. With him being such a high profile person in piltover, you didn't know if he wanted to be seen with someone with so many tattoos.

- "I really love them _ their beautiful"

-you showed them off every day after that. And even let him color them in.

VIKTOR

-viktor always knew you had some kind of tattoo but he never bothered to ask where.

-since you were both from the undercity, he knew that tattoos were a big thing down there for symbolism and decoration.

-late in your quarters, you sat at your vanity, fixing up a cut on your lip when viktor suddenly came in to ask you something.

Immediately, you went to grab a coat but he stopped you.

- "I knew i was right." he gave a smile

- "you knew I had tattoos?" "Of course I knew"

-viktor was gentle with touching your arms, tracing along the delicate patterns of ink. He was in awe of you.

- "Do you really like them?"

- "like them? Darling, I love them"

-after that, you got a tattoo dedicated to him. And sometimes when he's bored you let him trace them.

---

JAYVIK

-as one, viktor, and jayce both were confused about whether you might have them or not.

-their suspicions only became stronger when they realised you always wore long sleeves and pants, or a jacket. And it's never a cold day in piltover.

-they see your tattoos when you are getting ready for a meeting with the council. By accident, your dress sleeve got caught on a sharp metal and cut the fabric.

-immediately you thought to hide them but it was too late when viktor and jayce both noticed the ink peeking out.

- "you don't have to hide them, my love." viktor put his hand on your shoulder.

- "do you want to see more?" You asked quietly as you rolled up your sleeve.

- jayce and viktor were in awe. Admiring the art on your arms, the intricate ink entranced them.

- "when did you get them?" Jayce asked

- "a little time before I moved out of home, my parents wouldn't let me get them so I did it on my own"

-for your birthday after that, they decided to surprise you with another.

[fluentmoviequoter]

Luck Be a Lady Tonight

Pairing: David 'Deacon' Kay x fem!SWAT!reader

Summary: During a weekend off with your team, you run into one of the FBI's most wanted criminals. With a little luck and Deacon on your arm, you catch the criminal in a trap that places him exactly where you need him.

Warnings: fluff, minor angst, depiction of gambling/casino setting, canon-typical danger and violence

Word Count: 2.3k+ words

Picture from Pinterest

Masterlist Directory | Deacon Kay Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

“You look ridiculous,” you say, leaning against the wall in the hotel hallway.

“This is classic,” Street argues.

“Classic rat pack, maybe,” Tan interjects. “Heavy on the rat.”

“Alright,” Hondo says, pushing off the wall. “Street, change, or we’re going now. We aren’t going to get another weekend like this for a while.”

“He makes it sound like a bad thing,” you whisper to Deacon.

“You could’ve turned down the invitation,” he says, smiling.

“And listen to Hondo’s attempt at making me feel guilty after? That is a terrible weekend.”

Hondo calls your name, then Deacon’s, and waves for you to join the rest of your team in the elevator.

“Think I can win big at the nickel slots?” you ask.

“About as likely as Street getting any female attention in that outfit,” Tan mutters as the doors close.

Sitting at a table on the small balcony overlooking the casino, you scan the large room and locate four of your five teammates. Chris had plans with her family this weekend, so you’re the solo woman on the tip. You don’t mind; you enjoy spending time with the rest of your team, but the decision to spend the long weekend off in Palm Springs at a casino spa wasn’t your first choice.

You raise your glass, then freeze before it reaches your lips. There’s a man playing roulette who looks incredibly familiar. Lowering your glass, you watch him, observing his body language and how he speaks to the dealer. You can’t place him, so you lift your phone, putting your elbow on the table to remain inconspicuous, then take a picture of the man when he turns to order a drink. You upload the photo to the limited-access LAPD site, which returns as flagged. Only one line is legible in the scanned file, but it increases your heart rate.

“Miguel Calvo,” you whisper. Your chair slides backward as you stand, and a warm hand hovers beside your waist.

“You alright?” Deacon asks, looking at you intently.

“See the guy at the roulette table? Red jacket?” you inquire softly. Deacon nods, and you say, “That’s Miguel Calvo.”

“From the FBI’s most wanted list?”

Nodding softly, you relax as Deacon’s hand finishes the journey to your waist. He looks at you rather than watching the criminal or looking for the rest of your team. You have feelings for Deacon, not understanding how or why they started, but you feel complete beside him. You haven’t exactly hidden your admiration of him, and, on many occasions, he’s shown you he feels the same, but you haven’t crossed that line. And it looks like your relaxing weekend just turned into a chase, so you won’t get a chance to inch closer to that line.

“I have an idea,” Deacon says. “We’re out of our jurisdiction, but since he’s got a federal warrant, we should be able to make it work.”

“Tell me how I can help,” you offer, drawing Deacon’s attention back to you.

“Are you open to going undercover on our own?”

“Anything. Where do we start?”

“Well… we’re going to need a little luck.”

Your cheeks begin to hurt after the first few minutes of smiling. Between the new outfit Deacon procured for you and the flirtatious looks you’ve been sending Miguel since your return, you feel like you’re working a con. Deacon’s plan seems good enough, but it relies on you being able to get close to a man suspected of numerous felonies, including murder. He had a woman on his arm when you first noticed him, but now he’s alone and has moved from roulette to Ultimate Texas Hold ‘Em.

As you walk past the table, you hear him tell the dealer, “Lots of things worth holding here, eh?”

Dropping your smile, you look over your shoulder, hoping you convey the flirty look you’re going for. Miguel locks eyes with you before you toss your hair over your shoulder and continue walking. Exhaling slowly, you keep the deliberate sway in your hips as you exit the casino and return to the balcony. You place your hands on the railing and watch, allowing your gaze to linger on Miguel longer than anyone else in the room.

Miguel stands after winning against the dealer, buttons his jacket, and begins strolling leisurely around the slot machines. He walks past Street and Tan, none the wiser to their law enforcement ties or knowledge of who he is. When he reaches the stairs, he leaves the casino behind and walks with purpose to your side.

His hand slides around your waist, and you press your tongue against the back of your teeth to keep yourself from tensing at his touch. He tugs you once, and you laugh airily as you spread your hands over his chest, your body forced against his.

“Hi,” you say softly, tracing the edges of his jacket as you introduce yourself.

“MIggy,” he replies. “So, you’re more of an observer than a gambler?”

“I- I’m not very lucky,” you admit with a shrug. “But I like watching.”

“Well, señora suerte, let’s change that.”

He keeps his arm around you but turns you to walk with him. You feel like an accessory more than a person as you accompany him down the stairs. Street raises his hand from the machine he’s sitting at to show you he has your back. Your entire team is worthy of trust, but having Street around in this particular situation helps you breathe a little easier. Deacon is upstairs, but you’ll know when he arrives. You always do.

“What’s your favorite number?” Miguel asks, his fingers brushing dangerously low on your hip. You answer without hesitating, and he replies, “How about a little Blackjack? We’ll see how far your luck takes us.”

You stand behind Miguel, slightly to his right. The woman with him earlier stayed close to him, and when he reaches back and pulls your arm to tug you against his back, you realize it was because he wanted it. Watching over his shoulder, you raise your eyes often to locate your team.

“Room for one more?” Street asks as he approaches the table.

Miguel nods to the dealer, who steps back to deal Street in. You trace your fingers up Miguel’s back, then rest your hand against his shoulder. He leans back momentarily and kisses your jaw, making you swallow uncomfortably. Luckily, he doesn’t try anything more and returns his attention to the game.

“You said you’re unlucky,” Miguel says, spinning on his stool after another game. He holds your waist and looks up at you to ask, “What’d you have such bad luck on?”

Your eyes widen as you look over his head. He furrows his brows, and your lips part before you whisper, “Roulette. I think I got a little too comfortable betting on black.”

Miguel stands and follows your line of sight. Deacon descends the staircase, stealing the attention of men and women alike in the casino. Dressed in a black English-cut suit tailored to accentuate Deacon’s muscular build, he looks like he just walked out of a James Bond movie, and it seems you’re not the only one who thinks so. Several women walk to his side, attempting to drape themselves on his arm. He sends them the heart-stopping grin you crave to see and a polite declination.

“Roulette it is,” Miguel snaps, wrapping his hand around your wrist.

You stumble slightly, then catch yourself and hold his arm as you follow him. “Sorry,” you whisper. “Do you know him?”

Miguel shakes his head. When he reaches the roulette table, he looks at you to say, “It’s not black or red. But…” He glances at Deacon in his crisp black suit and decides, “I’m thinking that you and red might be the luck I need.”

You aren’t entirely sure if he said you in red or you and red, but you are not going to give him the luck he thinks either way. Deacon stops by the table to watch Miguel roll his dice, then drags his eyes up to your face. He’s a good actor, but there’s something in his eyes that you haven’t seen during cases before.

“Not bad,” Deacon applauds. “I’ve always been more of a bet on black guy myself.”

“Me too,” you agree, breathless without feigning it this time.

“It’s not that simple,” Miguel argues. He tightens his arm around your waist and adds, “Besides, I’ve got lady luck on my side tonight.”

Deacon smiles and says, “Ah, I see. And a beauty she is. Any chance you’re willing to spare her for one bet?”

Miguel’s jaw tenses as his hand presses against your side. “She should really stick with the guy she came in with, no?”

You pout and press your hand on Miguel’s chest again, looking through your lashes to ask, “You said I’m your señorita suerte. It won’t hurt, just once, right?”

He releases you with a stiff nod, and you loop one arm around Deacon’s elbow as you place your other hand on his bicep. Deacon smiles at you, and your grin grows into the genuine sign of joy Deacon has grown to expect when you see him.

“Wait,” you request after Deacon picks up the die. You lean over but hold eye contact with Deacon as you blow on them. “For luck,” you add lowly, returning to his side.

“May luck be a lady tonight,” he murmurs before rolling.

You watch as one of the dice goes directly onto the 20-black compartment. Deacon’s bicep flexes behind you as he cheers, and you lay your hand on his shoulders to kiss his cheek. As you step back, Deacon catches your waist.

“You are good luck,” he muses.

“Excuse me,” Miguel calls angrily. “I believe that was your one bet.”

“I’m going to walk around for a bit,” you say, stepping away from Deacon. “Nice job.”

Miguel’s jaw tenses as you begin wandering all over the room. He glares at Deacon, who raises his eyebrows with an easy smile.

“I’m the kind of man who makes my own luck,” Miguel says. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“No, I don’t,” Deacon replies, crossing his arms as his blazer stretches over his back. “Spell it out for me.”

Miguel presses his finger against Deacon’s chest and hisses, “I was behind the murders in the casino in Jackson, Mississippi. You don’t want to mess with me.”

Deacon blinks, then shrugs. “You should work on your intimidation tactics.”

“Poker room, me and you. Winner gets lady luck over there.”

“She’s a person, not a trophy.”

“Maybe to you.”

Deacon smiles again as he asks, “You want to play in the poker room? Let’s do it. But at least give me an idea of what I’m getting into if I were, hypothetically, to make sure I won. No cost too high.”

“The last time a dealer gave me the wrong cards, I caught him in the parking lot and put a Glock 17 in his ear. That enough hypotheticals for you?”

“It’s enough for me,” you say.

Miguel looks over his shoulder, and you wave as you hold your off-duty weapon at his back. Street and Hondo approach him from either side, but you nod to Deacon to do the honors.

“You’re under arrest. The FBI will be here in a few minutes to pick you up. Now, you can walk out with us peacefully, maintain the tiny reputation you have,” Deacon explains. He lowers his voice and leans closer to Miguel to finish, “Or I can drag you out of here and make you beg for a little more luck.”

“I vote option two,” Street mumbles, but you barely catch it as you watch Deacon.

“I’ll walk,” Miguel whispers. “And I’ll give up someone bigger than me, the man who helps me win.”

“That’s a discussion for you and the U.S. attorneys’ office,” Deacon says, wrapping his hand around Miguel’s arm. “Start walking.”

You knock on Deacon’s door, and when he opens it, he invites you in without a word.

“Thank you,” you tell him as you cross your legs beneath you in the chair beside his bed. “I couldn’t have done that without you, at least not that smoothly.”

“The feds seemed to think you could,” he says with a smile, reminding you of how many officers personally thanked you for bringing Miguel Calvo into custody.

“You called me lady luck,” you muse. “Do you think there’s room for doubt?”

Deacon walks to you, leans over, and places his hands on the arm of the chair you’re in. There are mere breaths between you, and Deacon gives you a moment to notice it, struggles to control you’re breathing in the proximity, and then promises, “Not a bit.”

“Are you going to tell me where you got the dress now?” you inquire.

“Someone’s assistant was bringing it from the dry cleaners,” he answers. “But I don’t think that’s what you really want to talk about.”

You shake your head, and Deacon shifts to place one hand on the back of your head. You’ve showered and pulled your hair back simply after an afternoon with an over-the-top hairdo, and Deacon finally feels like he’s holding you again. He kisses you, lowering himself until he’s on his knee and level with you. You loop your arms over his shoulders and decide you are lucky. The man kissing you is all the proof you’ll ever need of that.

“Hey, Deac, I-“

You pull away from Deacon as Street stops talking. As you wipe your finger under your lips to fix your lip balm, Street looks between you and Deacon.

“Before you get mad, I just want to point out that you gave me a key,” Street begins.

[unluckywisher]

-> Audiovisual references <- -> AO3 Link <-

Summary: You go with Nero to a Wanderer Convention (the LaDS equivalent of Comic-Con) and shenanigans ensue after you win a cosplay contest...

Content: MDNI Porn with plot, hanging out with Nero, tension between you two, a bunch of cliche situations, Carter cameo because yes, experienced dom!fem!Reader, virgin extremely sub!Nero, coworkers to lovers, handjob, fingering, blowjob, p in v sex with protection (cowgirl to cuddling), overstimulation (crying), pussy eating, pegging, aftercare.

Word count: ~15k (this got out of my hands so fast) (+ extra at the end)

A/N: I wrote this for me and the other 3 freaks in the fandom who like Nero. I had so many ideas and scenes in mind but it honestly felt like too much for ONE fic so... Don't be surprised if I write more stuff for Nero in the future. I'm far from done. Mwah <3

There was a stillness in the air, uncomfortable for anyone who could feel it. In this case, most of the Hunters in the room could, except for the one who had caused it.

Nero had barged into the floor where you all worked, waving two pieces of paper high in the air, yelling, “I got free tickets for the WandererCon, and they let me bring a +1, so who wants to come!?”

It had been so out of character for him, to be so loud and cheerful, that you all had turned from your desks to stare at him. The question now was, who wanted to go with him? He was the only one that liked Wanderers to that extent.

And so, a silence fell across the room. His expression started to falter, realizing how embarrassing it was to yell such a thing to his coworkers, and the lifted hand with the tickets began to plummet.

“Me! I wanna go!” You jumped, feeling nothing but pity for the poor guy.

He brightened up again, “Really?”

You walked up to him, giving Tara a look, and nodded. “Yeah, when is it?”

Back to his usual introversion, but motivated by your display of interest, he presented the ticket to you. “This weekend… It lasts the whole two days, b-but! We can go at whatever day and time is best for you…”

You took the ticket. It was a bright blue piece of laminated paper with a drawing of a chibi Wanderer waving glow sticks, the words ‘Come wander through WandererCon! Weekend pass for 1. Only valid if presented with its twin ticket.’ were written in glittery white. He was holding an identical one.

There was a choice to make. Clearly, Nero wanted to spend the whole weekend at this event, which would mean sacrificing all of yours for his happiness. Would it really be that bad? It was a once-a-year event, and the guy didn’t really have friends outside of forums to go to this with.

“I’m completely free this weekend, so let’s make the most of it!” You smiled.

Blush creeped up his face, mouth opening and closing a couple of times, fighting the urge to assure you that - No, it’s really okay if you don’t want to spend the whole weekend there - because damn it, he did actually want to do that, and since you were offering so nicely…

“Okay!” He finally exclaimed, clutching his ticket tight.

“We can discuss the details later, we have to go back to work or Jenna will think we’re slacking.”

“R-right, yeah, of course…” He stumbled over to his desk, glancing at you once over his shoulder before disappearing behind his wall of monitors.

On your way back to yours, Tara rolled his chair closer, whispering, “That was nice of you. You know, I doubt he would have complained if you had only offered an hour of your time.”

“It’s fine. I really didn’t have plans for this weekend, anyways.”

“Have fun. And good luck with Nero… He’s probably going to be very excitable.”

You chuckled. “Thanks. I’ll buy you something.”

Hours later, it was time to head back home.

You turned off your computer and walked over to Nero’s. He was typing up a storm and didn’t notice you approaching. An extensive document analyzing the material and composition of Wanderer’s body-formed blades, and whether or not they can be considered an exoskeleton. You recalled Jenna asking for such a report earlier, but you didn’t expect a whole dissertation about it. Squinting, you could see that there were… 143 pages of text, all written today.

“Damn, fast fingers…” You muttered, before realizing you had said it out loud.

The typing stopped abruptly. “What?” He swiveled in his chair, face pale in shock, not quite meeting your eyes.

“Nothing! I just, um, came here to say ‘I’ll text you later to discuss what we’ll do tomorrow’, so, yeah, message delivered. I’ll leave now.” You waved goodbye, smiling awkwardly.

“Okay.” He nodded, waving back. He was still recovering from your words, though he couldn’t tell if he had heard correctly.

You arrived home and sighed. Were you truly ready for the activities of the next two days? Only time could tell.

After having dinner, now relaxing in your living room, you opened the messaging app. You couldn’t remember the exact moment you two had exchanged phone numbers, but this would be the first time you had texted each other, and the revelation made you strangely self-conscious about what your introductory message should be. Shaking your head, you went for something simple.

-> CLICK HERE TO PLAY THE TEXT MESSAGES! <-

Your patience be damned, you were determined to help Nero have a good time at the convention no matter what. Setting the phone down, you walked to your closet and rummaged around for the Lumiere costume, which was pleasantly clean and ready to be worn.

Goal in mind, you went to bed, ready for whatever the weekend would bring.

The alarm went off, signaling the start of your (most probably) eventful day. You rolled out of bed, had breakfast, took a shower, and commenced the Lumierification. 

In theory, it was simple, but it took you a minute to manage to fully zip up the dress since you couldn’t reach, and the thigh highs refused to stay on your thighs until you used fashion tape, not to mention the mask kept tilting to one side.

Eventually, everything was perfectly in place, hair and make up as well. Just in time, too, since the clock now read 10:30. You grabbed your bag and made your way out.

Parked outside was an unremarkable small gray car, but that was the last thing in your thoughts. Leaning on it with his arms crossed, stood a perfect recreation of a Luminivore, so much so that your first instinct was to reach for your gun - even if you weren’t carrying it.

Whatever cool and composed attitude Nero had went right out of the window once he saw you approach, uncrossing and crossing his arms again only to uncross them and scratch the back of his neck, which he couldn’t, because of the costume, so he let them drop and shifted on his feet.

“You- You said-,” he coughed, sound muffled through the headpiece, “I thought you were going to wear-”

You looked down at yourself. Ooooh, right. He was probably expecting a male version of the costume.

“My bad, sorry for the confusion,” you waved a hand in the air, chuckling, “I guess I’m a female version of Lumiere. Is that okay?”

“Okay?” he said a little louder than intended, “Yes, of course- Of course it’s okay.”

You stepped closer to look at his costume. “This looks amazing, by the way.”

He froze.

“Don’t tell me you drove here wearing that helmet, though, because… That seems dangerous.”

He quickly shook his head. “N-no, I didn’t, I just wanted to show you the whole thing put together…”

“Ah, good,” you lifted your hand to touch one of the glowing ridges on his arm, “You did a great job. Looks just like the real thing.”

“Thanks,” he squeaked out.

You clapped your hands together and smiled. “Well, let’s go! We have a great day ahead of us!”

The noise made him straighten up. He nodded and reached up to take off the headpiece. Under it, he looked like always, glasses lopsided and hair a bit ruffled from wearing the Wanderer’s head, but nothing different. You also took note of the red hue on his cheeks, but you attributed it to the same cause as the others. He smiled and gestured for you to get in the car.

The drive was mostly silent, except for the music coming from the radio. Nero had asked you if you wanted to put on your own playlist because ‘his music taste was bad’, but you shook your head, so he settled for the radio. Otherwise, neither of you talked.

You decided to look up what the event’s activities were. He had probably planned it out already, but you were still curious.

A lecture on Wanderers by a Xander scientist, a card tournament - you didn’t know they sold cards, a Meet and Greet with some renowned Hunters, a cosplay contest, a Twinkle Toys plushie reveal, a DIY Protocore candy station… The list went on. It seemed like people took this more seriously than you thought. There were also many merch stands all over the enclosure.

One of the activities stood out to you, though.

“Are you going to enter the cosplay contest?”

He gripped the steering wheel, “N-no. Why are you asking..?”

“You should! You have a shot at winning with yours.”

“Mmm… I don’t know. I’d have to go up a stage, with so many people looking…”

“It’s up to you. In my opinion, you could win, but I might be biased because we’re friends,” you giggled.

He chuckled, brow a bit furrowed.

An hour later, you arrived at the place where the convention would be held. It turned out that there was a parking lot reserved for those attending, so you didn’t have to go in circles looking for an empty spot.

You got out of the car and stretched, looking around. Quite a few people - some in costume, some not - were already gathering at the entrance.

Nero put the headpiece back on and walked a few steps towards the crowd, before stopping and turning to make sure you were following. He tilted his head in a “coming?” gesture.

Sliding your tote bag up your shoulder, you skipped along.

A queue rapidly formed, with a coordination you didn’t expect from a group of sleep deprived nerds. Some of them looked at you - more like ogled at you. Great.

“QuantumSocialite?” A random guy approached Nero, calling him by his username. His friends gasped and whispered among themselves.

“...Yes?”

“Dude, it’s me, LuxLuxLucis.”

“The Lightchasers mod? Oh, wow!”

“You really wore the costume! It looks insane. You’re a legend. The material looks so accurate, how did you do it?”

“Thank you. I analyzed many Luminivore pictures and samples of their chitinous exterior, then compared what materials would be best to use without risking the quality while…”

Aaand just like that, you stopped paying attention. Instead, you noticed how this guy’s friends kept whispering stuff and giggling while looking at Nero. They were giving you major bad vibes. Pretending to be still listening to the incomprehensible yapping, you shuffled closer and eavesdropped on what they were saying.

“...paid her to come along with him.”

“For sure, he’s chronically online and he made that costume, there’s no way a female is hanging out with him willingly.”

“Wow, you guys know a lot about Wanderers,” you said pointedly, joining Nero’s conversation, “I’m actually learning a lot. I’m really happy I was the one that got to be your +1 and not our coworkers,” you gave him a warm smile.

The whispering ceased, now replaced by confused looks. He was completely still, his thoughts a mystery since his face was hidden.

“If you want to learn about Wanderers, you’re in good hands,” said the guy he was talking to, “He’s the most knowledgeable in that area.”

“I know! He really is. I’m really lucky we came together.”

Nero looked down at his clawed gloves, fidgeting with them. The two trash talkers were staring in anger, which you interpreted as jealousy since they were most likely projecting. Suck it.

Just then, an announcement rang out, stating the opening of the gates and the inauguration of the convention. Everyone got their tickets ready and began entering the place.

People were getting a bit pushy and the crowd got thick around you, so you hooked your arm around Nero’s to avoid getting lost or trampled, feeling safer next to his bulky costume. He jerked his head towards you, then realized why you were standing that close to him, and folded his arm to let you hold onto him better. An imperceptible tremble ran across his body.

You both walked to the gates and presented your tickets.

“Alright, let’s see… Couples’ weekend passes… Everything looks in order! Have fun,” the staff member smiled.

“...couples’?” You asked when he was out of earshot.

“W-wait, n-no, I- I didn’t, I mean-,” he gestured wildly with his hands, “They w-were given to me, you remem-ber, how I said, I said I got them for f-free? But I didn’t want to uhh… Um, to make it weird! At the office! S-so I skipped the fact that they were for, uh, couples…”

You chuckled, “Nero, it’s okay, I was asking out of pure curiosity. I have nothing against them being for couples.”

“O-oh. Okay. Right. Ha…” He visibly relaxed at your reassurance.

“So, what do you want to do first?”

“I was thinking we could walk around and see all the stands. Should be enough time until the first scheduled event…”

“Sure! Let’s go.”

It was a big space with rows of stalls selling merch, but also ‘official’ booths, including a Hunter’s equipment showcase, one for the show Super Hunters - with exclusive art never seen before, another with Lumiere memorabilia straight from Linkon’s History museum, Wanderers’ life-sized replicas…

Obviously, you visited all of these with Nero. Even took a picture of him next to the Luminivore replica per his request. It was cute seeing him struggle to find a good pose.

“The lecture is going to start soon… I’m going to head over there, but if you’re not interested, you don’t have to go.”

“The Xander lecture? No, I’m going with you,” you said with determination. You didn’t tell him that it was because you thought they were shady as hell and this was a good opportunity to get further information about them, but it’s not like he needed to know.

With Nero’s planning, you managed to get a good seat at the lecture hall before it filled up. He took off the headpiece to be able to see better and to avoid bothering the people behind him, placing it on his lap. Both your bags rested between your feet.

A staff member appeared, microphone in hand. “Hello everyone, and welcome to Xander Sciences’ lecture on the nature of Wanderers. Without further delay, let me introduce the man who will be speaking today, Dr. Carter!”

Everyone clapped as the man himself walked onstage. You were immediately on high alert, eyes trained on him.

“Thank you, thank you. It’s a pleasure to be here,” he took the microphone.

The next hour was spent picking at every word he said, trying to find any kind of incriminating loose threads, but it was clear the lecture was well rehearsed and none of what he said was useful to you, even if the way he talked about Wanderers put you on edge.

At the end, you grabbed Nero’s arm and pulled him along, “I want to talk to Dr. Carter for a moment.”

“Okay,” he followed, cheeks pink.

The rest of the attendants walked to the exit, which gave you a clear path towards the stage’s stairs.

“Dr. Carter!” You called out, waving your hand up.

He stopped for a moment, surprised to see you there. He smiled, “Ah, Miss Hunter, it’s a pleasure to see you again. I didn’t know I’d have such esteemed listeners in the audience today,” he extended his hand to shake yours. You didn’t.

“It’s an honor to meet you in person, Dr. Carter, that was a very insightful lecture,” said Nero.

“The honor is mine. You seem to be a Wanderer enthusiast,” he looked at his costume.

“He’s my coworker,” you cut in, putting a little more emphasis on ‘my’ than you intended, “don’t bother trying to recruit him for anything.”

“As cold as ever I see, Miss Hunter. It was a simple observation, I didn’t even say anything.”

“Why did you decide to give a lecture here, Dr. Carter?” You ignored his remarks.

“Why not? I’ve done a lot of research on Wanderers, and I thought it’d be best to share my knowledge with those seeking it.”

You were sure there was something more to this than that, but you doubted he would outright admit it. It could even be something much simpler, shameless Xander Sciences publicity to make people interested in being under their care, whatever that entailed. You hoped people wouldn’t fall for it.

He continued, “Since you’re here, you wouldn’t by chance be interested in a quick chat between us, would you?” He took half a step closer.

You felt a weight around your shoulders, pulling you back. Nero, who had been silently watching, spoke with a frown.

“She clearly wants nothing to do with you. What do you think you’re doing?”

You looked at him, eyebrows raised. He had a very determined look on his face, one you had only seen when someone insulted Lumiere in his vicinity, and to be honest, he was kind of intimidating. Kind of.

The tension could be cut with a knife. They glared at each other for what felt like an eternity. If it was your turn to say anything, they were out of luck, because you had no idea what to say. Finally, Carter stepped back and slid his hands in his pockets.

“Have fun in the convention, Miss Hunter. And your Wanderer pet too,” he smirked.

He walked away, leaving you both huffing at his arrogance. No, actually, as you looked at Nero, you discovered you were the only one huffing. He was tomato red.

“You had more things planned for today, right?” You snapped him out of it.

“A-ah, yes,” he pushed his glasses up, “let’s go have lunch.”

There were food trucks stationed outside of the convention center. The walk helped Nero calm down, though he couldn’t seem to look you in the eye. He wished he could put the headpiece back on, but it was a pointless action since you were about to eat and he’d have to take it off again.

After some deciding, you settled for skewers of deep fried chicken that were easy to eat standing up. You chose the honey sauce, he chose the sweet and sour sauce. For something so simple, it was delicious - the queue you had to wait was definitely worth it.

“Do you want to try mine?” You held up a skewer to him.

His eyes darted between it and your face, blinking.

“I mean, we got different flavors, so…” You shrugged.

At that, he shook his head like he was getting rid of his thoughts, then nodded.

“Okay. I’ll trade you- Mhmph!?”

You didn’t give him a chance to finish his sentence - ‘one of my skewers for one of yours’ - not that you had heard the beginning of it in the first place. All you heard was him agreeing to try yours. 

You shoved the skewer into his mouth.

It took him a moment to understand what just had happened, but when it dawned on him, he turned red again. You were confused as to why he was staring at you instead of biting.

“...”

“...”

He bit down and gently pushed your hand away.

“How is it? Good, right?”

“Y-yes…”

“Can I try yours now?”

He lifted a skewer to give it to you in hand, but you-

“Aaah…” You opened your mouth expectantly.

The chances of him surviving this weekend decreased with every minute he spent by your side. Alas, he moved the skewer closer to your mouth with a trembling hand. You met him halfway and bit down on it, causing him to flinch.

You tore off a piece of the fried chicken, relishing in the taste with a “mmmm” as you chewed. By this point, he was fully looking away, covering his mouth with his gloved hand; it was so difficult to keep a clear mind.

“Yours is really good too!”

He hummed in response.

After finishing the food, a few people in cosplay walked past, followed by more, and more groups. The contest must have been about to start.

“You’re really not going to participate?” You asked.

Nero shook his head. He had put the helmet back on, to feel less ‘exposed’ more than anything.

“Is there any way I could convince you? What if we went together? You wouldn’t be alone,” you pulled out your phone, “I read there’s exclusive merch as reward for the winners that won’t be obtainable otherwise, and, look, there’s even a surprise prize for the couples’ category.”

You swore you heard him inhale sharply.

“We already have the couples’ tickets, don’t we? What’s the harm?”

You knew you were pushing him a bit too much, but you were sure that deep down he wanted to join the contest, all he needed was some bribing convincing, and limited merch was sure to do the trick.

“…Do you really want to join?”

“Yeah! It’ll be fun. Unless you think my costume isn’t that good. I don’t want to bring our score down.”

“No, no, no! Your costume is perfect! You look perfect. It would be great if we went together, actually…”

It was crazy to you that he got flustered over the smallest things but was able to say that to you with no trouble. Maybe he didn’t notice what he just said.

“Great! Let’s go register, then!”

Following the cosplayers, you walked back inside towards the hall where the contest would be held. They all looked fantastic, from many other Lumieres, to Wanderers of all kinds (a girl dressed as Heartbreaker was so cute), to characters from the Super Hunters show. All could be winners. But you looked to your left to the nervous mess that was walking alongside you, and you were certain that he would score the highest.

Names written, you were given the number 34 to go onstage. While you waited for your turn, you made sure everything about your costumes was in place. You even managed to convince him to practice some poses.

“I’m not sure about this…” He fidgeted with one of the protruding crystals on his elbow.

“We’re already inscribed, you can’t chicken out now.”

“I… There’s so many people here…”

“Nero,” you swatted his hand away so he wouldn’t ruin his own costume, “forget about them. Don’t look at them. Just look at me. We’re going to crush this, okay?”

He nodded faintly.

“When we go up there, keep your eyes on me if you want. Pretend the judges don’t exist.”

“O-okay.”

And so he did. When you two went onstage, his eyes didn’t stray from you. Not as you unsheathed your sword and struck a pose, not as you pretended to fight him, not as you gave a final smile and bow to the judges, not as you grabbed his arm and dragged him off the stage. The thing was, hadn’t you told him to keep his eyes on you, he still would have. He had been marveling at you from the corner of his eye whenever he had worn the helmet.

“You did great, Nero!” You clapped, giddy. “We’re gonna win for sure!”

He fidgeted under your praise, “Thank you.”

The rest of the contestants had their turn, which made you increasingly nervous; you wanted to know the results as soon as possible. You had gone through the trouble of convincing Nero, it would be a shame if you didn’t get at least a minor prize.

“And now, on the couples’ category…” The voice of the presenter echoed backstage, “In third place, couple 52!” Applause. The respective couple walked out. “In second place, couple 19!” More applause. They walked out, too. “Before we announce first place, a few honorable mentions…” Oh, come on. 

“It’s okay if we don’t win,” Nero said with a soft voice.

You took his hand, “We are going to win.”

You had only taken his hand to calm down your own nerves, excitement and anticipation coursing through your veins, but it also helped him relax slightly, as long as he didn’t think too hard about the fact that he was holding your hand.

“In first place…” You both tensed up. “Couple 34!”

He squeezed your hand in reflex. Time stopped for a second. It wasn’t until a staff member pushed you both towards the stage that your face broke into a big smile, jumping and shaking Nero.

You were received with applause, like the previous couples. They made you walk to the center of the stage, standing between the other two pairs of winners, who were also clapping. The judges spoke.

“Congratulations to all of the winners, and thank you to everyone who participated. If you may all please take off the parts covering your faces so we can see our champions properly…”

The couples beside you took off theirs, you took off the Lumiere mask, and Nero took off the helmet. Applause followed. He smiled shyly, looking around at the crowd. Confetti rained down. Lost in the excitement of the moment, you moved closer to give Nero a kiss on the cheek. Just as he was turning to you.

Now, it’s not like you kissed him. But your lips did land on the corner of his mouth. 

You blinked at each other.

“H-HUH?” He reeled back, covering his flushed face.

No time to explain yourself, as the staff members brought the prizes and shoved them into your hands. A large basket filled with all kinds of merch was given to all three pairs of participants.

“And for the couple who placed first, a special bonus! WandererCon has collaborated with a nearby hotel for a unique experience, offering you both a one-night stay!”

The staff gave you some documents detailing everything.

“That concludes this years’ contest…” The judge continued, but you weren’t listening anymore.

Because if what the documents said was true, you were about to spend the night with Nero in a room with one bed. Judging by the look on his face, he had just read that part, too.

“We have to tell them, that there’s been a… Um. A mistake,” he told you later, sitting on a bench, helmet back on to hide his expression.

“What if we tell them that we’re not a couple and they take away our prizes? They would question why we entered the couples’ category if we’re not one,” you reasoned.

The thought of losing the merch made him pause.

“It’ll be fine. I read that the room has a couch. One of us can sleep on it. And! Did you read the part about the Wanderer-themed food they’ll be serving us for dinner and breakfast? That sounds amazing.”

“Yeah… It does…” 

In the end, he relented. That’s how you found yourself taking the keys to the room in the hotel’s reception, where you were informed of all the amenities and services provided.

A few of the guests gave you weird looks, but the receptionist asked to take a picture with you both.

“You must be the winners of the contest!” She had said with excitement. “Well, lovebirds, enjoy the room,” she added at the end of her explanation, winking.

The ride in the elevator was awkward after that moment. Floor 1… Floor 2… Floor 3… All the way to floor 6.

Luckily, the luxuriousness of the room took over all of your thoughts as you stepped in. It made you wonder what WandererCon could gain by partnering with this hotel for such a sum of money spent on this suite.

“The description on the document did not do this place justice,” you commented.

“Yeah… That sofa is bigger than my bed back at home…” He took off the helmet to see the place better.

The floor-to-ceiling windows gave you a view of the hotel’s garden below. A massive TV hung from the wall, coffee table and sofa in front of it. There was even a kitchenette in a corner, minifridge filled to the brim with free stuff that you couldn’t help but want to try right away just because it was free.

To the left, the entrance to the bedroom. If the sofa was already big enough to sleep, the canopy bed must’ve been king size. On it, a pair of folded pajamas and a change of underwear had been left, as well as a gift basket filled with…

“I’m going to put that away,” you said promptly, not giving Nero the chance to process its contents.

You opened the wardrobe and shoved it in the lowest space available.

“Woah… Look at this,” he beckoned from the bathroom door.

Peeking from his shoulder, the only word that you could really use to describe what you were seeing was lavish. Marble floors and walls, a massive shower, a massive sink under a massive mirror, and of course, to top it off, a massive jacuzzi. The reason for their sizes being that they were meant to be used by two people at once.

Room fully explored, you sat down on the sofa to discuss what to do next.

“They’ll bring us dinner as soon as we ask for it. I don’t know about you, but I want to take a shower and change first,” you said, taking off some of the costume’s accessories.

“Uh, yeah, no, I agree. You can use the bathroom first, I’ll go after you.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

You took the provided clothes and stepped into the bathroom, feeling tiny. It was easy to take off most of what you were wearing, except the same item that gave you trouble when you first got Lumierefied: The dress. You tried to reach the zipper at the top of your back from different angles, but you couldn’t get enough leverage to pull it down.

“Damn it.”

Nero was on his phone when you walked back to the sofa, presumably on one of his forums.

“Hey.”

He almost dropped his phone, startled. “Yeah?” He turned to you.

“I can’t unzip my dress. Would you mind helping me?”

Instantly red. And phone dropped.

You turned around to show him the zipper. “If you pull it a bit I think I can reach the rest of the way.”

He had taken off his clawed gloves already to be able to use his phone, so he had no excuse to procrastinate. As he moved to stand behind you, you could feel his shaky breaths on your nape, and you could swear you heard his heart hammering in his chest.

Ziiip.

It was faster than you had expected. Then again, you guessed he wanted to be done with it as soon as possible.

“T-there.”

“Thank you!”

Back in the bathroom, you took off the dress and turned on the shower. If you had been on your own, you would have tried the jacuzzi, but you didn’t want to take up too much time.

The water was nice and hot, not to mention the shampoo and gel given by the hotel smelled really good. Like coconut.

You finished showering and wrapped a towel around your body, drying your hair a bit too. There were a few steps in your post-shower routine that you usually went through, but you remembered that Nero was quite resolute about cleanliness and would want to use the shower as soon as possible, so in the name of efficiency, you took your clothes and lotions out of the bathroom and into the bedroom.

“I’m done! You can go now,” you called out.

“Okay!”

He came trotting through the door, only to freeze and cover his eyes with his hands upon seeing your towel-clad form.

“Y-you said you were d-done…” His voice got quieter and quieter.

“I am! I know you like being clean, and you already did me a favor by letting me go first, so you can shower while I finish changing here!”

“It’s okay… Really, I, I can wait…”

“Nonsense. Come on.”

You grabbed his set of clothes and pushed them into his hands, forcing him to look at you, the way you wet hair clung to your skin, your flushed cheeks due to the heat of the water, the dangerously low point the towel was resting on your chest- He swallowed.

Completely ignoring his wandering eyes, moreso because it amused you, you grabbed his arm and forced him into the bathroom.

“See? Was that so difficult?”

You closed the door before he could answer, but he had little to say.

Time to finish your self-care routine. You grabbed the body moisturizer and started applying it to your arms and legs, the texture soft. Would they tell you the brand if you asked in the hotel’s reception?

While you pondered this, there was a crash.

“Nero…? You okay?”

“U-uh, yeah! I- I fell trying to get this off…”

“Having trouble with your costume, too? Yours looks harder to put on and take off than mine.”

“I didn’t really have trouble putting it on, but now…”

“Okay, let me help,” you knocked.

The door opened a crack, then closed as soon as he saw you.

“You- Ah, mm… Change first.” 

“I can’t put on the pajamas yet, I have to let the lotion dry. Just come out.”

One second of silence. Two seconds of silence. The door opened again.

Making a gesture with your hands for him to move closer, you instructed him to lean down so you could pull off the upper part of the costume. He was glad he didn’t have to look at you and could look at the floor instead.

It was difficult to find the right amount of force to use, since you didn’t want to ruin it, but you had to get it unstuck.

So you pulled, and pulled, and pulled, each time with a bit more strength- Too late. The piece came off, but now there was no time to brake. You stumbled back, making Nero stumble forward, the costume part flying off backwards over your head and landing on the other side of the room… Just as you landed on the floor and Nero on top of you.

“Ow…” You reached to rub your head. At least there was a carpet.

“I- Uh- Um- I-”

You blinked your eyes open to see why Nero was speechless now. Ah. The towel.

It wasn’t completely off, but a straight line of skin was exposed from your right shoulder to your right thigh. That included half of your chest.

The rest was covered, but it’s not like it mattered right now.

He couldn’t function. His eyes were glued to your body, and his face was poppy red. Even his glasses were fogging up.

“Oh, please,” you rolled your eyes, “Nero, it’s a body part. You’ve never seen a body?”

He didn’t answer, still overwhelmed.

Well, since this had happened, you might as well have fun.

“Look.”

You grabbed his hand that was planted next to your head and pressed it to your breast, lifting an eyebrow.

“See? Just a body part.”

He squeaked and reeled back, pulling his hand free and crawling away from you. You sat up with a mischievous smile.

“Be honest,” you started, crawling towards him, “you like all this, don’t you? When I’m close to you, when I pay attention to you, when I touch you…”

He whimpered in response. The towel had fully fallen off by now.

“You act all shy, but we both know… You’ve been wanting this from the beginning.”

You reached him, caging him beneath you as he lay flat on the ground to stay as far away from you as possible. He was wearing a white T-shirt under the upper part of the costume, but he had yet to remove the bottom half, and you were certain that there was no space for him to wear pants of any kind under it, so he must be in boxers.

“I won’t do anything else unless I have your permission. If you want me to continue, you have to say it.”

Droplets from your wet hair fell on his face. Somehow, he managed to keep eye contact.

“You…” His chest fell and rose. “K-kiss me again, like before? P-please…”

Right, the accidental kiss. Had he been thinking about it this whole time? It was a quite innocent request compared to the situation you had put him in, but surprisingly direct coming from Nero.

His eyes darted to your lips several times, but he didn’t dare move.

“You want me to kiss you,” you repeated, then smirked, “is that all?”

He made a sound of protest and frustration. His fingers clutched the carpet in an attempt to hold himself back from doing anything embarrassing. He shook his head.

“No? What else? Use your words, pretty boy.”

His hand flew to his mouth. Did you really just call him that? You chuckled.

“Fine, we’ll take it slow.”

You pulled his hand away and pinned his arms to the floor. Slowly, so slowly, you leaned down until your lips brushed against his. Nothing more than a feather touch had him already gasping.

“Let’s see…” You whispered, “this is what I did before.”

Repeating what had happened in the contest, you kissed the corner of his lips. This time, however, letting the contact last longer, and making sure that a ‘mmm’ sound reverberated into the kiss.

When you pulled away, Nero was practically panting. His body squirmed under you, but you were certain it wasn’t because he wanted to escape your cruel intentions.

“There. That’s what you asked for.”

“W-wait!” Afraid that you were going to leave him like that, he found his voice again, “I want… Uhm- If you could, ah…”

“All you have to do is ask for it.”

He closed his eyes tight, as if saying these next words took all of his strength, “Do whatever you want with me.”

Your eyes widened. Oh, wow. He was actually a freak. Always the shy ones… You huffed a laugh, brushing the tip of your nose across his cheek to prompt him to open his eyes.

“Whatever, huh. Let’s be sensible. Just in case, let’s agree on a safe word,” you looked at him with genuine consideration.

He nodded, growing increasingly nervous at the thought of what you were about to do to him.

“How about… ‘Protocore’?”

“O-okay,” he knew this wasn’t a silly matter, so he was trying his best to be verbal about it.

“Alright, test it out. When should you say it?”

“Um… When I, if I feel uncomfortable… I should say p-protocore.”

“Good boy.”

Those two words made bumps appear all over his arms. You smiled with amusement.

That matter settled, your eyes made a very deliberate path to his lips. Since you were holding his wrists, your finger rested right over the pulse point there, showing you just how fast his heart had started beating at your gaze.

He tilted his head up to get himself the smallest bit closer to you, practically begging for a kiss. An actual proper kiss.

Your lips pressed against his, finally. You noticed they were slightly chapped, the texture rough in contrast to your softness, but that only made you want to run your tongue over them. So you did.

He instantly opened his mouth in response. You plunged your tongue into his mouth, which earned you a muffled whimper. He swiped his tongue against yours with caution, growing more comfortable as you kept going. It became messy very fast due to his inexperience, the deeper you kissed him, the more he started drooling.

Despite that, he was a very desperate kisser. Like he didn’t believe this was happening, nor it would ever happen again in the future, so he might as well go all out in the present.

You pulled back and licked your lips, looking down at his state. His glasses, apart from foggy, were now crooked, and a line of drool ran down his chin. You licked it up.

“I’m curious,” you announced with an air of mystery.

He tilted his head, silently asking ‘about?’. Not answering, you moved to sit next to him, setting his arms free. He mentally debated if he should touch your naked body with his newfound freedom, but he didn’t have time to reach a conclusion as your hand slid to his pants - still part of the costume - and pulled them off, along with his underwear.

He froze in flustered silence, completely exposed to you. Part of him wanted to cover himself up, it was too embarrassing to let you see his fully erect leaking dick, he felt too self-conscious about it, but the other part of him was curious to know your opinion. Maybe if you insulted him now, it would be easier for him to accept that he had fumbled you once he got back home.

But, you didn’t say anything.

No, as you stared at the 8-inch cock in front of you, you really didn’t have anything to say. Always the shy ones indeed.

With almost wonder in your eyes, you wrapped a hand around it. Nero twitched.

“W-wait, mh-”

He pushed himself up on his elbows, reaching to grab your wrist with half-lidded eyes. You didn’t move your hand, but returned your gaze to his expression.

“Wait? For what?”

“I just, well, you were kissing me and- I’m not saying I didn’t like it, t-the opposite, but well I’m nervous now, so… Uh, not yet because, because I-”

Cutting him off, you started pumping up and down, precum helping you slide along his length. He bit down hard on his lip to prevent a moan.

“W-wait! I! Ah-”

He let go of your hand in order to keep himself lifted on his elbows.

“Stop, s-stop, I’m too sensitive-”

You didn’t let up. If anything, you sped up, brushing your thumb across the tip.

“I don’t see how that’s a problem,” you said with a smirk.

“B-because, mh, fffh…” His words became higher pitched and whiney, “I don’t-”

His worst nightmare was realized right then. Having any sort of sexual interaction with a beautiful girl and cumming in less than thirty seconds. How pathetic of him, he thought.

The cum spilled over your hand and shot all across his T-shirt, his abdomen and legs shaking. His elbows gave out and he fell on his back.

“I’m s-orry- I’m sorry, I’m so- sorry-” Was the only thing he said through the orgasm, covering his eyes.

You stood up and left to go to the bathroom, and it solidified the fact for him: You thought he was disgusting and wanted to get away from him as soon as possible.

Nothing further from the truth, as you returned with a damp towel after cleaning your hand to help him clean up. You moved his hands away from his face and repositioned his glasses.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated.

“What for?” You asked now that he had calmed down somewhat, handing him the towel.

“Mm… I, I came too fast…”

“But I wanted you to cum.”

“W-well, yeah, but, you know, that’s uhh…”

He didn’t look you in the eye as he cleaned himself and took his stained shirt off.

“It’s what?”

“Kinda… Pathetic…?”

He stood up and realized you were both completely bare in front of the other, and he still hadn’t touched you. The passing contact of his palm on your breast burned his skin.

“Maybe, but I found it hot.”

The blush returned to his face. He looked down and started fidgeting with his hands. You remembered he was about to shower before all of this happened, so you slid your hand in his and led him to the bathroom.

“Um, what are you-”

“I’ve been wanting to try the jacuzzi.”

“Oh.”

Water started filling the tub. In the meantime, you turned to Nero and stepped closer. He wanted to put his hands on you so badly, but he was too embarrassed to try. 

Honestly, you just wanted to eat him up.

“Relax. We’re just going to take a bath, and then we’ll have dinner.”

“Yeah… Okay.”

You reached up and gently took off his glasses. Before setting them aside, you tried them on, curious, only to find he had a very high prescription. Even though you were blurry, the way you widened your eyes wasn’t missed and it made him giggle. As you looked at him, he coughed to cover up his laugh and looked away.

“I’d give you um, a compliment, about how they look on you but, you know uh… I can’t really see. Although I k-know for a fact that you look good in them because, because you… You look g-good in anything…”

You took them off and put them near the sink, then kissed his cheek.

“Thank you.”

Your bodies brushed when you got closer, and he instinctively lifted his hands with fear as if to say ‘I didn’t touch you on purpose! I’m not a pervert!’.

You shook your head and facepalmed. He panicked again at your gesture.

“Nero, I just gave you a handjob,” you sighed, “You know what? It’s okay. Forget that happened, maybe I went too fast. Let’s start from the beginning.”

You turned off the faucet, water having reached an acceptable level, and gestured for him to get in first. Like a small animal in distress, he followed your command and sank into the water, cowering because you seemed angry - you weren’t.

Before he could protest, you entered and sat on his lap, facing him, straddling his thighs. His hands gripped the edges of the tub.

“You said-!”

“And I meant it! Calm down, I just want you to get more comfortable with me. My body. Not every skin to skin contact has to be about sex.”

He relaxed the tiniest bit.

“Now, put your hands on my waist. And you have to understand, I want you to touch me. I’m not going to judge you for doing that. I was the one who put your hand on my chest!”

He nodded along with your explanation, sliding his hands down the white marble and bringing them to your sides. It still felt forced.

“Tell me something. Do you want to touch me?”

“Yes! Y-yes…” He sank his mouth underwater, blowing a few bubbles.

“Then do it. I give you full permission to move your hands wherever you want. Would you rather I… Don’t look?” You tilted your head. “Is that it? You feel judged if I’m looking at you?”

“A bit…”

“Okay.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned forward, resting your head against your bicep. Your chest pressed against his. He got hard again.

A few moments passed, but seeing you weren’t moving nor saying anything, he began to slide his hands up. You could feel his warm face pressed to your cheek.

He stopped right when he felt your breasts, gathering the courage to continue. As gently as he could, he cupped each breast in his hands until his palms were flush with your skin.

“C-can I… squeeze or will that hurt you?”

“As long as you don’t do it very hard, it’s fine.”

Worried about how hard was ‘very hard’, he squeezed with barely any force, then ran his thumbs across your nipples. That made you exhale.

He froze.

“That feels good,” you reassured him.

“Oh, okay,” he was taking mental notes of every piece of information.

He continued his exploration, moving his hands down this time, to your thighs. The sound of water and his echoey breathing were the only noise in the bathroom, since you hadn’t turned on the jacuzzi function yet.

He squeezed them, too, sliding his way up, but staying on the outer part.

“You’re- Very um, soft.”

“I think it’s the lotion I just used, but thanks,” you kissed his cheek, “your hands feel nice.”

“A-are you going to, uh, kiss me every time I compliment you?”

“Yeah, why not.”

“Well, I think you’re very pretty, b-but! Obviously that’s not the only thing about you, I mean, you’re a great Hunter and you’re very intelligent, every time you come back from a mission and I read your reports it’s always amazing to see how efficient you are, and you’re so much fun to spend time with, I-I’m very happy you came with me- Ah! I didn’t tell you before but you wear the costume so well, and you’re so talented-”

You cut him off with a kiss, which he instantly melted into. His arms wrapped around your waist to keep you close. This time he was a bit more sure of what he was doing, tilting his head and returning the motions of your lips. You pulled back but he furrowed his brow with a whine and dipped his head to kiss you again, one of his hands moving to cup your cheek.

Far from complaining, you kissed him back. The hand still on your back slid down to your rear. He broke the kiss with urgency.

“Y-you… made me feel good so I want to m-make you feel good too… Um… Show me how…?”

“Yeah, of course,” you smiled, glad that he was warming up to intimacy.

He took his hand off your cheek and presented it to you. Grabbing his wrist, you plunged it into the water and brought it between your legs.

“Feel around first, don’t be shy.”

The pads of his fingers traced down your pubes, over your clit and into your folds, finding your entrance.

“Do I just…”

“Hold on, you overlooked something.”

“I- I did?”

You moved his hand back slightly.

“That’s my clitoris. I thought you’d like to know.”

He blushed furiously, “O-oh. Yeah, mhm…”

His finger circled it a couple of times, getting used to its feel. Your breath hitched. Encouraged, he kept rubbing it.

“So is it better to do this… Rather than, you know, f-fingering you…?”

“Both are different, but I’m going to show you the best way. Put your ring and middle fingers together and put them in.”

“A-at the same time?”

“Yeah, slowly.”

He followed your instructions, ever careful. Once they were fully in, you spoke up.

“Okay… Now curl-”

The action was immediate, a gasp falling from your lips as you gripped his shoulders.

“Did I hurt you!?” He was about to pull his hand back but you kept it in place, shaking your head.

“Quite the opposite. You’re doing great. Now, press your palm up…”

Your hips bucked into his touch as he did.

“Y-yeah, like that, now you just move your fingers and rub with your palm.”

He started slow, pumping his fingers in and out while curled, making sure to keep the friction against your clit. You suspected he had skilled hands ever since you had seen him typing away on his computer, but his coordination was surpassing your expectations.

You grew breathless, your hips rocking in tandem with his touch. The water sloshed around you.

“And… You can…” You grabbed his free hand and placed it on your breast with a squeeze. “Mmm, like that…”

He was just as worked up as you, if not more. Unprompted - to your delight, he dipped his head and started kissing your neck. Very sweet and innocent kisses compared to what his hands were doing.

“C-can I, hm, b-bite you?”

“Yes,” you breathed, the pronunciation of the word more lewd than you intended.

You felt his dick twitch on your thigh. His teeth clamped down on your neck, tongue licking the skin with intent. You moved your hand down to jerk him off again, but he stopped you, a frustrating loss on your chest.

“No. T-this is for you… Just concentrate on feeling good, okay?”

“Okay,” you dug your fingers into his hair instead.

“Am I doing well?” His hand returned to fondling your breast.

“You’re doing great… Mh- Maybe you can go faster now.”

No more words were needed. He picked up the pace, hitting your g-spot just right each time, grinding his palm against your clit with more determination.

The moans couldn’t be held back anymore. He planted open-mouthed kisses to the spot where he had bitten, noting how you clenched around his fingers. How would that feel on his dick?

Pleasure started pooling, your movements becoming more erratic, reaching for that high. He noticed and pushed his fingers harder against your spongy walls.

“Nero- Mh… Keep going like that, yes, just like that- I’m gonna cum- Fuck, don’t stop-”

Your hands clutched his hair, head falling back, and-

With a gasp, followed by a moan, the orgasm wrecked through you. He kept moving his hand until your head fell on his chest, just to make sure you had fully finished. 

He pulled his fingers out and hugged you in silence as your breathing returned to normal.

Once your senses came back, you lifted your head to give him a sweet kiss. He smiled, shy.

“You… Liked it?”

“Yes. I didn’t expect you to be so good at it,” you chuckled.

Pride overtook his expression.

“You sure you don’t want me to…” You looked down at his erection.

He shook his head, “A-after dinner… If you want, I- We-”

You laughed again, “After dinner, absolutely. Let me help you wash your hair, at least. It’s all tousled now…”

Since you had already taken a shower earlier, you focused on helping him, which he really appreciated. All the contact and intimacy that he had never had made this day easily one of the best of his life.

You washed his hair and massaged his scalp, sneaking a few kisses when he closed his eyes. He washed the rest of his body himself, blushing as you absentmindedly traced your fingers across his skin while you waited.

Before leaving the bath, you remembered the reason why you wanted to use it in the first place: The jacuzzi function. You pressed the button and relaxed for a few minutes under the bubbling water.

It wasn’t healthy to stay too long, though, so you said goodbye to the jacuzzi with a mock salute. 

Nero passed you a towel and wrapped one around himself. Luckily relaxing in the water had made him go soft again, relieved that he didn’t have to feel embarrassed about having a tent.

You dried off then put on the pajamas and underwear, all very comfy and soft, and he put his glasses back on.

“I’ll call them to bring our dinner while you dry your hair,” he offered.

“Okay!”

The hair dryer was also really good quality. You were definitely going to participate in more contests in the future, regardless of whether a hotel stay was in the prizes or not.

You brushed your dry hair and walked out of the bathroom. Just then, a knock at the door.

Nero opened it and a staff member entered, pushing a serving cart filled with covered plates. They left it next to the coffee table.

“We have organized it so the entrées are on the upper tray, and dessert is on the bottom tray. The idea is that you go down each tray of food. There’s also a triptych on the top describing each meal. Do you have any questions?”

“Nope.” You looked at Nero. He shook his head.

“Then I’ll get going. Enjoy your food!” They smiled.

“Thank you!” You both said in unison.

The door closed. You took the first tray and put it on the table, then sat on the sofa.

“Want to do the honors?” You said to him.

“Yeah. We can do one each,” he sat next to you and lifted the silver cover.

The food was amazing. Both in presentation - they nailed the ‘Wanderers’ theme - and in taste. As you ate the meals, however, you noticed that Nero had grown weirdly quiet, and not in the usual shy way.

“Is everything alright?” You put your fork down.

“Hm? Why?”

“I don’t know, you seem upset or like, lost in thought.”

He put his fork down too.

“D-do you like me?”

“...What? What do you mean?”

“I mean… A-are you interested in me or… D-do you just want, uhm, a one night stand…?”

“Oh! No, no, I’m interested in you, Nero. I like you. You’re so cute and sweet. I would… It would be nice if we started dating.”

“Wait- Really?” He looked up at you with bright eyes, pushing up his glasses in a nervous gesture.

“If you also want to, yes.”

“Yes! Yes, I want to. I want you to be my g-girlfriend.”

You hugged him, covering his face in little kisses that knocked his glasses off. He laughed nervously, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his face in your hair.

“S-stop, that’s too much…” He complained, but you knew he wasn’t actually annoyed.

“I can’t help it, you’re sitting here looking so kissable… Hehehe.”

You grabbed his glasses and put them back on his face.

“The food will get cold. You can continue your attacks after we eat,” he said, letting go of you.

“Oh, I intend to.”

That sent a shiver up his spine, but he refrained from saying anything in case you would change your mind and forget about the food entirely. After all, he wanted to enjoy this cute moment of eating dinner with his girlfriend.

Meals finished, cart taken away, you stood up with your arms crossed.

“Well?”

“...well what?” He looked around nervously.

“Are you going to stand up and join me in the bed or are you going to keep editing those pictures you took of the food?”

“A-ah…” He dropped his phone for the second time today.

You picked up the phone and left it on the table, away from him, to then pull him up by his arms.

“That wasn’t a response.”

“I’ll join you,” he muttered, avoiding eye contact.

You walked to the bedroom, hand in hand, but you stopped in front of the closet as you remembered the basket.

This time Nero got a good look at it.

“We-! We’re not gonna-! We-! Use all of that!?” He pointed at all of the items with a bewildered look.

“Calm down, we’re not. Geez, how freaky does the hotel management think we are?” You said with sarcasm, knowing exactly how much of a freak you were.

Nero seemed in particular distress about the strap on, which you lifted with curiosity but promptly put down. No, you were just looking for the condoms. For now.

“I feel like you should know, well I, I’m not exactly, um, what I mean is, I’m… A virgin.”

How sweet of him to mention it, as if it wasn’t obvious. You held back your snarky comeback, since this was serious for him and you weren’t that evil.

“Right. That’s okay. You remember the safe word?”

“Yes.”

“Then we’re good!”

You took one of the condoms and guided him to the bed, sitting down.

“I also don’t… I have no idea how to… Put one of those on.”

“I’ll help you, don’t worry,” you were concerned about the lack of sexual education he had received, but that was a different matter entirely.

He looked unsure of what to do next. Kiss you? Start undressing? Jump out of the window from embarrassment?

Those doubts dissipated as you started kissing his neck, his eyes closing in bliss.

“You left a mark on my neck,” you whispered between kisses, “it’s only fair I return the favor.”

He tilted his head up, grabbing a fistful of your hair, realizing he might be hurting you and letting go, ultimately grabbing again once you bit down. The noise he let out was borderline pornographic.

You sucked and licked the skin, only stopping to admire how it looked before moving on to a different spot and repeating the process. 

By the time you were done, his neck was covered in hickeys, he was panting, and he was visibly hard. Your hands had stayed on his shoulders the entire time on purpose, but now, as you looked at him look at you, they wandered down to unbutton his shirt.

He tried to avoid your gaze by looking at them, but you were quick to tilt his chin back up.

“Unbutton mine.”

He complied, fumbling with the buttons and taking twice the time you did out of pure nervousness. He was about to lose his virginity with you of all people. Fuck, he was about to lose his virginity period.

You took off the pajamas and discarded them on the floor. Despite having seen you naked not that long ago, it took him a moment to calm down again.

Gently pushing him back, you took off his pants and knelt between his legs.

“I’m gonna show you how to put on a condom but first I wanna do something…”

“Hm?”

You lowered your head towards his erection and he immediately palmed your forehead to stop you.

“W-wait!”

He retracted his hand, but kept it between you and his dick.

“What?” You raised an eyebrow.

“If- If you do that, I am certain, I am… I will c-cum right away…”

“I still don’t see the issue.”

“But- You- I- Well- We-” He started gesticulating incoherently.

You took the opportunity of his hands being busy to lower your head the rest of the way and lick up his shaft.

“Ah!” He threw his head back, then shot you a glare.

The eye contact in that moment was when you decided to put your whole mouth around it, sucking it completely. It was the right choice, as you got a perfect view of his flustered expression.

His hands gripped the sheets, unintelligible sounds falling from his lips.

“Mh! Nghh…”

You sucked from bottom to tip, dragging your tongue along the veins, making sure to cover all of it with your saliva. Your dominant hand followed just after your lips, while the other fondled his balls. 

“You have such a pretty dick, you know,” you kissed the frenulum.

It twitched in your hand, precum already dripping, and Nero grabbed a pillow to cover his face and muffle his moans.

“No, no, no, c’mon,” you pulled it away, “don’t you wanna see the cum all over my face when you finish?”

“Why do you-, why are you-, I’m just, I feel like-”

You sucked it fully again, swirling your tongue around it. His stomach trembled in tandem with his heaving breaths.

“Ahgh! Mmmff… P-please- Ahh…”

He was holding back. He was trying so hard not to cum, to impress you, to prove to himself that he could last, that he wouldn’t be a mess when he was finally inside you, but sucking up the length while rolling your eyes back and humming was all it took.

Thick ropes of white painted the inside of your mouth, his hips stuttering. Another apologetic string of sentences rang out of him, only a lot more garbled, his head on the mattress and his back arched towards you.

You licked and swallowed all the cum. When you finally pulled back and looked at his state, he refused to make eye contact, but his eyes were fixed on the top of the canopy with suspicious concentration.

You looked up and, ah, of course, a mirror. Your eyes met his and he instantly looked away, moving to lie on his side and bury his face against the mattress.

“Nero, are you embarrassed or are you upset? I can’t tell.”

“Mm mmm,” he answered, words muffled.

You lied down next to him and caressed his cheek. He slowly came out of hiding.

“I didn’t understand that. Can you repeat it?”

“The first,” he repeated with a huff.

“So, embarrassed. But, did you like it?”

“Are you joking!?” He exclaimed, “I- I mean… Yes…”

“Great, because I’m far from done with you,” you lifted the condom to his flushed face, “wanna be on top?”

He shook his head so hard that his glasses almost fell off.

“Listen,” he tried to explain as you got on top of him once more, “I’m still sensitive, a-and I might cum just as fast anyways, so I’m really sorry in advance for how much of a mess I’m going to be, I promise I’m doing my best, if you don’t want to do this anymore that’s fine by me, we can do whatever you want- Aah-,” he shuddered as you slipped the condom on his still hard dick, “...that was easier than I expected- A-as I was saying! If you don’t like this, I could e-eat you out instead- MMMGH!”

You sank onto him in a swift move, the full length now buried to the hilt inside your warm cunt. It made you gasp, too. It felt better than any sex toys or past flings you had had.

“With how fast you talk, I don’t doubt that it would be nice, but you made me so wet with all your moaning that I couldn’t wait to fuck you properly.”

He mumbled a response, hands grabbing your thighs to keep you still for a moment; it was too much for him to process, and he knew that if you started moving he would-

You rocked your hips, propping yourself with your hands on his chest, and his nails dug into your skin with a broken whimper.

“Wait!”

Ignoring him, you did it again. God, he felt good.

“Agh-!” He arched his body, scratching your thighs, which he looked really apologetic about but he couldn’t help himself.

“How mean, you have all this and you want to keep it all to yourself…” You teased.

“N-no, it’s not that, I swear, u-use me, I-”

At those words, you raised your hips and dropped them sharply, the tip of his dick kissing your cervix. His eyes rolled back, words dying in his throat.

“You didn’t let me, let me f-finish s-speaking…!” He protested.

“Since you wanna talk so much, how about I give you something to do with your mouth?”

You reached up and pushed your fingers inside his mouth, delivering another pointed rock of your hips. Helpless, he began sucking on them. 

Matter settled, you started to actually move on top of him at a constant rhythm, new red lines appearing on your thighs with each movement. He was so overstimulated that tears started to pool and fall down his cheeks.

The best thing about riding him was that you could deliver a perfect hit to your g-spot every time, although with how thick he was, he might’ve done that anyways if he was on top. 

You clenched around him and he saw stars, whimpering and moaning between your fingers. Hit after hit, warmth started to spread across your body, growing more and more breathless as the pleasure built, never enough - you needed to step it up.

So you took your hand out of his mouth to keep balance as you fucked yourself on his dick, faster and harder, his pussy-drunk expression only serving to drag you further, moans now spilling from your lips as well.

Nero slowly but surely recovered from the overstimulation, the mattress below him wet with tears. He chased his own pleasure now too, hips jerking up to meet you.

“I’m gonna cum,” you said, having trouble holding yourself up.

“Don’t st-oh-op, p-please, p-please, mmh…”

“I- I can’t keep, fuck, ah-”

The rope stretched tighter and tighter until it snapped, electricity jolting up your spine. Your body shook and fell on top of Nero’s, spasming with the aftershocks of the orgasm.

“No! Mh! P-please!” He cried, feeling so close himself but edged since you had stopped, “I need- you- I need to-”

He turned, both of you lying on your sides, his hands keeping your thighs around his waist, and-

With desperate thrusts, he tried to reach the climax he hadn’t. He buried his face in your chest, glasses pressing against your skin as he kissed and sucked anywhere his mouth could reach. 

You grabbed his hair, shaky gasps each time his tongue teased your nipples or his cock reached deep. It was a lot, his pace relentless, but you wanted him to finish, so you let him continue.

“S-sorry, I need to- I want to cum so bad- P-please, I’m almost there- Nghh-!”

The sweet torture didn’t last long - not that you expected it to in the first place, his hips stuttering as he delivered a couple more deep hits. You looked down to see his face as he came. He went cross-eyed. Wow, you wished you had taken a picture.

He stayed with his arms around you for a bit, breathing heavily. You caressed the top of his head.

“Come up, give me a kiss,” you said softly.

He complied, moving his posture to face you. A gentle kiss, just lips, after which you both smiled.

“I really liked that,” you reassured him before he could apologize for anything.

“Me t-too. But…”

You covered his mouth with your hand.

“Are you about to put yourself down in any way?”

He raised his eyebrows, then shook his head. You moved your hand away.

“I just wanted to say… Well, I think it’s a bit unfair that I, uh, I came one more time than you did, so…”

“The score doesn’t always have to be ‘settled’,” you chuckled.

“I! I know that! But still, I want to… Y-you said yourself that… About me t-talking a lot…”

“You wanna eat me out that badly, huh.”

He flushed. Somehow he remained easily embarrassed.

“I’m curious to know how you taste.”

Maybe not that embarrassed.

“Open your mouth and stick out your tongue,” you nodded at him.

Confused, he followed your command. You spit. He closed his mouth, shocked. He acted offended, but you saw his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed it.

“That’s how I taste,” you laughed.

“Not- That’s not-! You know what I meant!” He huffed, the grip around you getting a little tighter.

“Hahaha, okay, okay, just teasing you. By all means, go right ahead. I would never say no to being eaten out.”

With your permission, he released you and pulled out, his dick now soft. He got up to throw away the condom while you positioned yourself on the bed, legs spread for him, pillows stacked under your upper back and head.

He crawled back on the bed and lied down on his stomach, face between your thighs, eyes darting wildly at the display before him. Seeing it was different from feeling it.

“Will you guide me like you did before?”

“Yeah, of course. Get a feel for it first, though.”

He nodded and swallowed.

“I didn’t expect you… To be… So wet…” His fingers traced your inner lips.

“I told you before.”

“Sure, but- I thought it was an exaggeration…” He licked his finger. No discernible reaction, until he realized you had watched him do that, then he turned redder.

“What’s the verdict? Do I taste good?” You smirked.

“A-ah, well- I didn’t really- I have to try more.”

“Smooth.”

This time he stuck out his tongue, flat, and licked up from your entrance to your clit. You trembled involuntarily.

“Like that?” He repeated the action.

“Y-yes, but, it’s not just that, you aren’t a dog-,” you gave him a look, but discarded the thought. Pet play might be too advanced for his first day. “You have suck, too. You can kiss if you want. Don’t bite, unless it’s on the thighs. And don’t focus on one specific spot, but every now and then you should definitely hone in on the clitoris,” you paused, “Is that confusing? Did I explain it more or less okay?”

“I’ll try to follow what you just said, but correct me if I do anything wrong.”

His arms wrapped around each of your thighs.

“Oh, and,” he kissed your clit, “that’s the clitoris, right?”

“Yes,” you smiled proudly at how far he’d come.

That smile faded fast as he dove right in and started sucking and licking like a starved man, running his tongue up and down, your expression morphing as your brow furrowed in pleasure.

His head moved up and down, lips pressing against every part of your cunt, tongue parting your folds. Just like you had told him, he made sure to stop at your clit, suck it and swirl his tongue around it before dragging it away and poking at your entrance, drinking all he could taste.

You bucked your hips towards him, gripping his hair with one hand and the sheets with the other. Your thighs pressed against his cheeks.

“Y-you can… Hahh… If you- Your nose-”

He understood what you meant, rubbing his nose to your clit as he sucked lower. His glasses fogged up at the heat. He took them off and threw them away to get a better angle.

They landed on the carpet, undamaged, but neither of you really cared.

His eyes moved up to you every now and then, though blurry, he tried his best to gauge your reaction, along with the little trembles of your legs. It was getting easier to understand what he had to do.

Still, he had some improvements to do. He pulled away for a moment to catch his breath, lips red and moist, a web of saliva connecting his mouth to your cunt. He licked his lips.

“Don’t stop,” you breathed.

“Sorry, sorry,” he quickly muttered before diving back in.

This time his movements were faster, his tongue flicking in all the right spots. One of his hands moved up to squeeze your breast, fondling it, small sounds of pleasure vibrating from his mouth to your core.

You grinded your hips back and forth, hissing. Nero was doing something similar against the mattress, his dick probably hard again. 

He sucked your clit sharply, and you threw your head back with a moan. 

“Fuck… Yes…”

He did it again.

“Mmnn! Nero, I’m so fucking close- Don’t slow down- ah!”

Far from it, he kept up the pace with heavy breaths, the hot air hitting your skin. Your fingers tightened their grip on both his hair and the sheets. Which, if it weren’t for the fact that he was neatly licking everything up, would have been stained with your wetness long ago.

“Yeah yeah yeah-” Your vision began to cloud as that familiar numbing sensation spread, almost, almost, right there.

Uncontrollable shivers ran along your body, your expression locked in a continuous gasp as you looked up, at the mirror, seeing - more than feeling - Nero kissing your inner thighs and up your stomach.

You slowly came down from the high. By the time he buried his face in your neck, you had regained control of your body and could wrap your arms around him.

“I have my verdict now,” he said with a cocky edge, “you taste good.”

You chuckled and patted his hair, ruffled from your grabbing and pulling.

“That means you’ll eat me often, then?”

He lost his cockiness, “I-If you want me to.”

You held him for a bit while an idea cooked in your mind. Would he be opposed? He didn’t seem very thrilled when he saw the strap on…

“Hey, are you up for one more thing? I know you were all about ‘settling the score’ or whatever, but I want to do something… It’ll be the last, I promise. We can go to bed after.”

“Uhm… Anything and everything you want to do is fine by me…”

“Riiight…” You gently pulled away from his embrace and got up.

As he saw you walk towards the basket, he felt a slight nervousness well up, but he calmed himself by believing you were just going to grab another condom. On the way there, you tossed him his glasses.

His vision now clear, he saw how wrong he was.

You lifted the strap and his face went white.

“You can’t be serious…”

“I am. You see, you were such a good boy eating me out and you did so well, that I think you deserve a prostate orgasm,” you said with a smile.

“I don’t- I don’t think I can, I’m able to… I…”

“If you don’t want to, that’s fine. We won’t! But if you’re just saying ‘no’ because it’s a new, weird experience, I’m asking you to be open minded.”

“Have... Have you done this before…?”

“What, peg a guy? Yes,” you shrugged.

He shook off the feelings of jealousy to instead focus on the fact that you knew what you were doing.

You picked up the lube - also in the basket - and walked up to the bed to sit next to him.

“Look at it. Your dick is a lot bigger and I can take it no problem.”

He turned red, “Well! That’s! I mean!”

To be fair, there were actually more sizes available, this one being the smallest, but you had buried them under the condoms and lube bottles so he wouldn’t see. A small mercy from you.

“Are you up for it or not?”

“Uhhh… Maybe I can, just like, try it for a second,” he avoids your gaze, fidgeting with his hands.

“Sure! Of course. If it’s uncomfortable, we stop.”

You pat the bed, “Get on all fours.”

“What!? Right away!?” He lowered his head.

“...I mean, what did you expect to happen first?”

“I don’t know! Can I get a kiss first.”

You giggled and leaned to kiss him. His hands cupped your face, and you felt him smile into the kiss.

“Better?”

“I guess.”

“Alright, I’m going to lube you up. I’ll use my fingers, so don’t get scared.”

“You’re gonna… Ah… Mhm…”

He positioned himself on all fours as you indicated, slightly relieved that at least he didn’t have to face you.

You squeezed some lube out on your fingers and took a gander at what you were working with. Okay, he was definitely tense.

“Breathe, Nero. My gosh.”

“Right, right, mhm.”

He wasn’t going to calm down much more, it was obvious, so instead of dragging it out, you simply decided to circle your finger around his hole and slowly push it in. No more than an inch deep.

The foreign sensation made his breath hitch.

“Am I hurting you?”

“N-no.”

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No…”

You pushed your index a bit further, coating his inner walls with the lube. You stopped once you figured you were deep enough.

“This is what I was talking about,” you warned him, before pressing down right on his prostate.

You saw his hands clutching the sheets as he gasped, then looked back over his shoulder.

“That’s…”

“Feels good, right?”

“Yeah…”

You retracted your finger and picked up the strap on to lube it up as well, coating its black silicone with your hands. Nero watched the whole process with his mouth dry.

“It’s about to feel a lot better than ‘good’, trust me.”

He nodded noncommittally, but deep down he was very curious after having felt just your finger.

You fastened the strap to your waist and thighs, making sure everything was properly tightened, and turned your attention back to him.

“You can still say no.”

“No, I, I’m okay.”

“Alright.”

You aligned the tip of the dildo with his hole, kneeling behind him. He looked away, heavily in disbelief that somehow this was happening - and worst of all - he was eager for it to happen.

The tip slid in easily thanks to the lube, a soft muffled sound coming from Nero, who now had one of his hands covering his mouth. You pushed a bit deeper, tentatively. Your hands found perch on each side of his waist, the touch causing goosebumps along his skin.

“You’re doing so well,” you praised.

Another inch. It was almost fully in. His posture was so rigid that he might as well have been a statue.

The final bit disappeared inside him, and you took a moment to let him adjust.

“How is it? How are you?”

He moved his hand away from his mouth, propping it against the mattress again.

“It’s a lot… But… It doesn’t feel bad, just weird.”

“That’s good. Can I move?”

“Yeah…”

With his permission, you slid it halfway out, and back in. Slowly.

“H-ah-”

One more time.

“Mmg-”

Faster.

“Oh-”

From tip to base.

“Ah!”

Seeing he could take it, you set the pace. In and out, every single hit dragging a new noise out of him.

Your hands on his waist, you began pulling him against you at the same time, lewd noises each time your hips met his ass. His knuckles turned white.

“Look at you, being so good,” you said in a singsongy voice, “arch that back for me.”

He did, whimpering at the way the strap felt in that posture.

“Good boy. Are you enjoying being fucked like this, Nero?”

“Y-ye-sssssgh…”

He was so far gone, and having done so little, too. It was going to be a delight when you used a bigger strap in the future.

Your thrusts turned harder, opting for impact instead of speed. Broken moans and whimpers fell from his lips. His arms trembled.

“You look so cute like this,” you leaned forward, wrapping a hand around his neck to make him face you.

He turned to you with half-lidded eyes and a permanent flush. You could practically see the heart-shaped pupils in his eyes, dazed and drunk. He felt like he was about to die from pleasure.

You felt him back up on you since you had stopped moving. You raised an eyebrow.

“What’s this, getting greedy?” You smirked.

“Pleaseee…” He whined, voice cracking.

“That good, huh,” you let go of his neck, “and you were so reluctant before.”

Both hands back on his waist, you rammed yourself inside him. He moaned loudly, but the sound got cut by yet another thrust, his voice carrying on and getting cut off repeatedly as you picked up the pace. 

Precum dripped on the mattress. You intended to jerk him off at the same time, although it didn’t seem necessary, so you focused on hitting his prostate at the right angle.

His arms gave out under him, barely holding himself together as he now lay face down and ass up - drooling.

“Hey,” you called out, “look- at- your- self-” you pointed up with your chin.

His eyes wandered up to the mirror, where he saw the utter mess he was, and how the strap slid in and out of him. The sight made his body tremble. You looked so hot.

“I’m gunn- gonna- aah… mmmh… going to- nngh! C-cum…”

“Yeah? Show- me. Cum- for- me,” you punctuated your words with thrusts.

He babbled incoherently, his legs shaking. His sounds got louder and louder, until he started pleading in broken syllables, and then- release.

Spurts of cum shot on the bed, his face buried against the mattress as he bit the sheets.

You moved for a bit longer to let him ride it out. When the whimpering turned into heaving gasps, you stopped. Gently, you pulled the strap out.

He collapsed on his side, fully spent.

“Very good. You did such a good job,” you leaned over and kissed his cheek.

He mumbled a reply.

You took off the strap and attempted to clean as much of the mess as you could. At that point it was better to change the sheets entirely, you realized.

Well, you weren’t a Hunter for nothing. You scooped Nero up bridal style and let him down gently on a chair while you changed the bed. He was flustered by the action, but not in the right state to complain.

After changing the sheets - there was a spare set in the closet - you went to the bathroom to grab a damp towel. You cleaned yourself first, then sat down next to Nero and helped him.

“Thanks…” Was all he could say.

You scooped him back up and laid him down on the bed before climbing in yourself.

“Want some water? Or anything?”

“No… I want… Sleep and cuddles…”

You chuckled, “we can absolutely do that.”

You turned off the lights and cozied up to him, gently taking his glasses and putting them on the nightstand. His arms wrapped around your waist, face buried in the crook of your neck.

The skin-to-skin contact, once arousing, now soothing, helped him drift off quite fast. You didn’t take much longer, sleep taking you in minutes.

An alarm woke you up the next morning. A song from the Super Hunters show. Nero’s alarm.

“Mmmh… Oh, no…” He got up, untangling himself from your warm embrace and running to turn it off.

You stirred, rubbing your eyes. Opening them, you saw him standing next to the bed, looking down at you.

“Hm? What…?” You said in a sleepy voice.

He chuckled and climbed back in, hugging you.

“Nothing. I just think my girlfriend looks very cute when she’s sleepy,” his voice was a little deeper in the morning.

You could already tell he was going to be the type of guy that showed off his girlfriend a lot. It made you smile, really.

“I think my boyfriend should have turned off his alarms,” you countered, poking his cheek.

“I’m so sorry,” he kissed right below your ear, “I forgot we were sleeping here together instead of being alone back home, and it slipped my mind.”

“Oooh, right, because we would have to drive all the way back from Linkon to WandererCon…”

“Yeah…��

“Do you have a lot planned for today?” You caressed his cheek, which he leaned into.

“I… I had plans… But… Uh…” His usual blush tinted his face.

“But?”

“We… The documents said we… Uhm, so, the room… Is booked until 5PM today… And I don’t feel like going to the convention today…”

Unbelievable. He wanted to spend the day here with you rather than gushing about Wanderers? Was he sick?

You blinked at him. He was a bit confused about your shocked reaction.

“Or, do you want to go?”

“No. No. I want to stay, I’m just surprised you want to stay. Are you sure? It only happens once a year, and I’m still going to be your girlfriend tomorrow.”

You knew this was important for him, so you wanted to make sure he knew what he was doing.

“Yes, I’m sure. Wanderers are still going to exist tomorrow, and I have you here now. It would be a waste not to enjoy your company.”

He kissed you, and kissed you, deep and loving, over and over.

“How was the weekend?” Asked Tara when you arrived at work.

“Oh shit, I forgot to buy you something,” you palmed your forehead, “I’ll treat you to dessert for the rest of the week,” you sat on your office chair.

“Hahaha, it’s okay, but I’ll take you up on that offer,” she clapped giddily.

She rolled her chair closer.

“It must have been really interesting to attend, if you forgot about it. Was it cool?”

Just then, Nero arrived at the office. He walked up to your desk and placed a cup of coffee with a shy smile.

“Good morning, Tara!” He greeted, walking to his desk.

Tara scrunched up her brows in shock and leaned to whisper to you.

“Tell me what’s going on. Has reality been altered? I didn’t see this in my cards…”

“Uhm… Let’s just say… It was a busy weekend.”

Thank you for reading! Here's a little meme:

[pedrokruger]

I've been slowly trying to detach myself from my own pretentiousness when it comes to art. The constant impossible challenge to come up with the "next big thing" has finally shown itself as not that great of an idea, you know. For the past few years, I'd say, I had separated art from pleasure and gratification. It simply became "the thing I did". It was few the days that I actually enjoyed creating stuff, and that realization on itself made me really depressed. How did I ended up like this? I've been drawing since I can remember, but somehow I willingly took a knife and stabed that part of myself in the heart. I like to believe that this happened because of the state of the Entertainment Industry, Capitalism, and society as it is today. But it's easy to blame those things. And it's a bit harder to admit that as I grew older, and got my work on the internet more and more, I became more selfish, pretentious, and I wasn't really drawing for the same reasons I did before. In this industry, we do need to fit within the status quo sometimes, in order to get our work seen by many people, and thus, be employed and make a living. Since the start that was the plan. But somewhere along the journey, I got lost. I feel like I got rid of the good motivations I had for drawing, and replaced it with the status quo, and suddenly drawing and art ceased to be something I enjoyed. I'm still finding myself, and this week I was really happy that I managed to sketch these characters above. I still can't explain it but somehow this past few days something in my brain clicked, and drawing came back to me like a long lost childhood plushie. It felt good, fun, and most of all, relaxing. It felt right. So now I am trying to make this a routine where I draw with no intention what so ever, other than to draw. I'm hopefull that I can make art part of my heart once again. I also like to write about what I'm thinking, so expect more rambling in the coming posts. Cheers,

[moonlight-444]

Yall I legit spent like 2 whole days drawing this entire peice nd ion even think I like it that much 💔 literally drew out 3 sketched js for this idea and they didn't even look good 💀💀 never drawing full bodies again, and IBUKI WAS SO HARD TO RENDER LMFAO WHY DOES SHE HAVE SO MANY ACCESSORIES BRUH

Im gonna tweak out fr, what if I js go back to drawing Nagito all over again instead 😔😔👅

[librarycards]

Jenny Odell: I sometimes feel that in an individualistic culture, people get freaked out by the idea of being tied down or responsible for anything. Thinking about a gift economy, they might say, “I want the gift part but not the accountability part.” Lately, I’ve been volunteering in this native plant restoration group, and one of the most surprising parts has been how enlivening it is to help keep something else alive (I’ve never had a garden before). Sometimes I truly can’t tell whether I’m giving or getting. What are some ways that you see participation in a gift economy changing the participant’s sense of herself and her place in a network? In other words, is participation itself part of the gift?

RK: Yes. Exactly. Participation is part of the gift, where giving and getting meld into one another. A garden teaches you that every day. Gifts and responsibilities are always coupled to each other.

Of course, you’re right that given our hyper-individualistic culture, many people are not eager to embrace responsibility. Its often confounded, I think with the notion of “obligation”. Obligation feels to me like an involuntary demand on our time and energy, imposed from outside without the assurance that you’ll benefit in return. I’m sometimes reluctant about that, too. But, responsibility is an invitation to respond to need, an opening to reciprocity in which the benefits flow both ways. The benefits of participation in a gift economy are not only flowing to the gift recipient but the giver as well. Working on your restoration project, or any other gift exchange strengthens your own sense of agency, doesn’t it? It awakens care and compassion, builds relationship and nurtures your own identity as a person of capacity, of having enough abundance in your life that you can share it. I think it contributes to a sense of purpose, which we know is good medicine. It reminds you that you matter, that you’re part of something. That’s a big reward.

I find that some of the times that I feel most fully alive are in experiences of shared physical work in community with others. Like an old-time husking bee or shared planting. We’ve lost so many of the opportunities for that and gift economies provide the opportunity to work in common, to satisfy the need for belonging. And when that work is on the land and the benefits flow into our neighborhood of many species, the benefits are multiplied beyond the boundaries of ourselves.

JO: There is a really beautiful analogy you draw between the economy of nature and the human gift economy. Asking what in the gift economy functions as the “sun”–the constantly replenishing source of energy–you speculate: “Maybe it is love.” Reading this, it occurred to me how love is in essence a surplus, the force that gets things going. Could you speak more to the emotional and practical role that things like love and gratitude play in a gift economy? And how do they change the way we see “resources”?

RK: The fundamental currency of a gift economy, is relationship, not money. I suppose it’s what some people call “social capital”, but I’m not fond of that term. Participation in a gift economy could create a whole continuum of relationships, from the warmth of being cared for or an expanded sense of justice to just plain neighborliness. This can create a sense of security because mutual reliance grows from gift exchange. There is a sense of satisfaction in being able to give, and a sense of kinship in being able to receive, when we share the mutual acknowledgment of human vulnerability. For me, that continuum of relationships includes the possibility of a currency of love and gratitude that motivates the gift exchange, which is the source of the flow, between people and between people and the earth as well.

Gift-giving is a way of saying “I see you.” I see what you need and I see what I have to share. My well-being is tied to yours and yours to mine. It develops a trust that when I am in need, there will be abundance shared with me. The giver and the recipient are honored at the same time. That seems a lot like love to me.

Robin Wall Kimmerer, interviewed by Jenny Odell, Gift Thinking. [emphasis added]

[linddzz]

ok your arcane blogging has almost convinced me to watch the show because it seems WILD and also, visually STUNNING like wowww

but I have absolutely no idea what the show is even about, could you give me a summary? (also what streaming service is it on?)

Yessss excellent! The show is indeed fucking nuts and also visually stunning. Just. Goddamn. Every single episode had moments of us going "that looks so pretty" and/or "holy shit that looks so fuckin sick"

It also does some of the best visual storytelling outside of the Spiderverse movies. They do so much playing around with 2D looking effects and light bursts, with music that slaps and is also used to create in-story sort of music videos to help drop character backgrounds and establishing where people are in episodes, which helps them handle the many characters really well!

Also the animation of micro-expressions in this show makes me lose my mind. I'm sure you've seen the gifs all over my blog and how much facial animation there is in them lmaoo

Good news is it's finished after 2 seasons, which I like as someone who prefers shows that don't just kind of go on for forever. It could have been 3-4 seasons but they did great nailing a rare mix of a plot AND character focused story that had a ton of moving pieces.

You also don't need to know shit about LoL and from what I can tell, it was more used as a base for the world setting and the first building blocks for the characters. They take advantage of the pre-made world really well and do this immersive style of world building where you may not know what all is going on in this world, but you can really tell that it's there and developed you know? But character lore wise we all tried to predict season 2 based on the original lore and then got cold clocked by how the basic character beats actually played out so. Yeah. The most video game aspect of this is the character designs and the FULL embrace of "what if this lady had a big glowing cyber arm she punched things with and what if it was the coolest shit you've seen."

As for what it's about...theme wise big points are

- love as both a destructive and restoring force, especially love between family and friends

-forgiveness and how one draws the line on what going too far means

-self perpetuating systems of classism that can pull even well meaning actors into being oppressors, and even how different forms of rebellion can begin recreating the oppression they're rising against (there are arguments on how this got handled in season 2 but I don't think there's any really solid storyline way to handle such heavy themes)

- the unexpected consequences of chasing progress as an ideal

-big buff hot women who punch!!!!!!! Women who are yoked!!!

-making you kind of hate how much you like that imagine dragons song

-beat drops that make you yell "LETS FUCKIN GOOOOO"

Plot wise it's about:

Set in a trippy art deco/art nouveau punk aesthetic city that has technology and where magic exists, but has been considered dangerous and only used by mages born able to harness it. Scientists learn how to access magic via mechanical and chemical technology. This causes a lot of problems. It mostly follows two sisters caught within the volatile time, along with a central cast from multiple parts of the city.

It's streaming on Netflix!

[gracemain919]

(Not sure if you will answer this, but I’m going to ask anyway sorry if it’s long :P)

I can only imagine the STRESS having to do with seven (eight if you count “the mother”) fungus infected Yandere’s (+a whole military complex) so here’s my question:

How will they react to Y/N having a mental breakdown?

(sorry if angs)

(Thanks for the ask:), and yeah. The problem with having a decent amount of characters is that I have so many things to write/draw about them, but don't know what would and will be liked/needed. Also hoped I captured a good enough vision of a mental breakdown. Don't know if that is what you wanted;-;)

(The Fungus universe)

Tw: Yandere, manipulation, slight abuse.

Oh dear… it was anticipated you would suffer a lot of pressure and fear being randomly rocked from your old life to this one. Tears tainting your once joyful face while you lock yourself away from any prying eyes, and taking out your anger on any who dared to try and enter.

How the leaders react:

The Liar: Expected. You are only human after all. Humans crack under the slightest change, unlike his own kind. Still with you gone… No. He can't let you screw over his plans. If you want sympathy, then you won't get it.

You can't cry forever, and to be honest he doesn't care enough to take action. Sure, hide away from your problems. See if he does something about it, dear.

Still, if he really had to fix it, it would only take a simple lie. Nothing more.

Poison: Hmm… That was quicker than expected. Some people can endure the pressure for longer periods of time. That’s too bad. Poison will try to get to the source of the problem. Through the closed door, providing more drug-like, artificial solutions than actual support. Since she knows the only thing that would truly bring you joy is your freedom, and well… she can't give you that.

The Cannibal: Oh, oh, oh. Fuck did he cause that? No, no. How did he- How…?!

Imagine a buffering browser, that is him at that moment.

He really does not know what to do or what to say to make you feel better;-;

Doppelganger: What? Really? You hiding away in tears? Good god, always knows how to push his buttons in the middle of practice.

“Dear, open the door, please… I promise I can help you”

Can he help you? He is pretty sure he can, even if the ‘how’ of the matter is quite blurry. He will try to persuade you with pretty words and promises, but if those don't work… well… haha. That door might need to be broken off.

Illusionist: Why are you hiding? Did… did they do something wrong? They did… but it was for the betterment of everyone. You gotta trust them. Please…

You might hear muffled pleas from the other side of the door as the humanoid insect tries to get you to come out. Cries that closely resemble a child begging for their parent.

“Please, do you feel lonely? We won't ever leave your side again we promise! Do you need to see something cute? We will give you cats, please! Come. Out!”

That’s the most they will do… well until they decide the Doppelganger might be a good person to help them out.

The Eye in the Sky: What? He is too busy for that, god. Fine.

It might feel like an insult when you hear a worker coming to your aid instead of the man himself. He’s busy god dammit. He doesn't have time for your temper tantrum.

The Priest: Oh that happened? That's truly awful… Don’t worry he will help.

Standing behind the door he will simply wait.

“Don't worry, dear. I understand this might seem like the end of the world. Take the time you need. I will be waiting until you decide to come out”

He is a patient man. He can wait for as long as you need, and if you decide to leave he will be more than happy to hold you in a loving embrace.

His wife on the other hand… will smile and nod, but her aching fingers can't help but visualize the pretty idea of tearing that damn door off. Why would anyone want to hide from them? Preposterous! They are sweet as angels.

[luxheroica]

under your tree (3/3)

Part 3/3 - Ekko, ???, and the tree. An epilogue

Thank you to everyone who has enjoyed along the way, thank you for allowing me to express how much I love these two characters.

Part 1

Part 2

Also on AO3

---

How he drags himself back up after the memorial, Ekko will never quite be sure. 

The Firelights need him. Zaun needs him, now more than ever, and after everything he gave his promise. It’s harder than it ever was before, to get back up and keep at it. His fight was always about making the city better for his people– and now there are so few of them left. 

But he’s damned if he’s going to just give up. 

I’ve never seen you give up on anything, Ekko.

He wanders until he’s at the tree. The leaves are green and vital, the arcane spillover that was slowly poisoning the ancient tree gone with Viktor’s final sacrifice. The Firelights still call it their home– only it is no longer a closely guarded secret. Any who wish to come can, and there they can find a meal and a warm drink and a place to mourn their dead and a warm hand to hold. 

“How did you do it?” he’d asked that other-Vander, on one of his few-and-far-between breaks from building the Z-Drive. “How did you unify Zaun? With all the warring factions and everyone out for themselves…” 

And Vander had smiled and said, “Mostly, some cussed good luck. But I’ll tell you what, it started with building a community right here– and then fighting for it.” 

And Ekko is trying to build a community where he is. Some days it’s harder than others. 

There isn't any space left on the wall to depict those they’ve lost along the way, and he doesn't even know all their faces to draw them anyways. 

He easily finds the drawings that Jinx made, with their neon bright colors standing out from all the rest. He traces the paint with his hands. 

After the battle was over he looked for her. He found Vi instead, broken and grieving. Her reaction told him all he needed to know. 

How many times do I have to lose you? 

He still remembers the time they spent together. Too short, and an eternity all at once. It hadn’t been easy– her pain had come spilling out of her in explosive ways, and his caution had time to rear its ugly head– but in those scant days they had found a kind of equilibrium between them. Working on turning her lab into a flying weapon of war, intertwining their ideas together until at last they had something that might turn the tide of Ambessa’s ambition. In the quiet moments, Ekko dying her hair and Jinx altering his clothes (which didn't always remain on), and kissing her until they were both breathless. 

It reminded him sometimes, of that other Powder in the other universe. Building something together, something that would help the world. 

And now she is dead. 

He traces the lines of her drawing with his fingers. Misses her. 

Then he starts to paint. There is no space on the wall and so he covers the lines of Powder's portrait with Jinx. Changing her hair, updating her eyes, turning her at last into an older version of herself. 

At last his hands are covered in blue paint, but there she is– immortalized on the wall. Another one of his ghosts. 

“You really think I'm dead, huh?” 

Ekko whirls around. The figure coming towards him is wrapped in a cloak. She walks with a limp and her face is scarred. There is still a trace of telltale blue peeking out from underneath her hood. 

“Wha–how–?” 

He stares dumbfounded as she takes down her hood. She is unmistakably Jinx. There is a wide burn scar across half her face, but still she grins and she is as wild and as vital as ever.

“Miss me?” 

Ekko rushes forward. Envelops her in a crushing hug. She nearly buckles under his weight. “Easy there tiger–” she starts to say, and then he kisses her. She relaxes into the kiss. 

Ekko pulls back, not quite sure if she's real… but she is. He cradles her face between his hands. “How are you–?” 

“Alive? Blast knocked me clear,” Jinx explains succinctly. “Then I think one of those hexgate things activated and I got tossed halfway to Kumangra. It’s been a wild ride getting back, believe me.” 

Ekko laughs. It bubbles up out of him, unable to be suppressed. He’s just… happy. “You’ll have to tell me all about it.” 

“Someday, maybe.” And her tone isn’t like he’s ever heard it, not for years. It’s far off and quiet. 

Ekko takes her hand in his. Holds it tight. Holds onto her. 

“Have you told Vi?” he asks. “That you’re alive?” 

She shakes her head. And from the set of her mouth– wistful, resigned– he knows that she doesn’t plan to. 

“Jinx is dead, remember?” she gestures up to the portrait he’s just finished painting for her. “It’s better for her– better for everyone– if she stays that way. If she remembers me as the sister who saved her, maybe she can finally let me go. But, I wanted you to know.”

She turns towards him, and her expression is fond and faraway.  

Ekko understands in that moment that she’s not staying. He twines his fingers tighter with hers, like he might hold her here by the strength of his will alone. But holding onto her is light holding onto an explosion– the tighter you try, the more it will hurt. 

He relaxes his grip, and her fingers slip from his. 

“When am I gonna stop losing you?” 

His voice is choked. 

She smiles, leans forward and kisses the bridge of his nose. “Hey,” she says. “If you keep losing me, I guess that means I always come back, right?” 

He smiles slowly. Her fingers find his and they gently twine together. Not clutching or holding tight just touching. For this moment and this moment alone. 

“Like a lucky penny.” 

She laughs. Looks up, and her face is dappled with golden light. “Or a tree, that just keeps coming back.” 

“Where are you gonna go?” 

She cocks her head. Shrugs her shoulders. He thinks, she has finally shed the weight of everything weighing her down. “No clue. Somewhere far away. Someplace that’s never heard of Piltover or Zaun or any of this.” 

“I want to ask to come with you,” Ekko admits. 

Jinx smiles. She understands him, maybe better than anyone else ever has. “But you won’t. Cause you’re the Boy Savior, and this place needs you.” 

Zaun and Piltover are to be one city. A common enemy has forged them into one being. Sevika apparently got herself a place on the council. He hopes it will stick. But he knows that their problems aren’t so easily solved, and old hatreds have a way of rearing their ugly heads, and without some threat breathing down their necks people will remember the old ways of power and privilege. In the meantime, somebody’s got to be here to build something worth hanging onto. 

“You could do a lot of good here,” Ekko offers. 

Jinx’s answering look is wistful and sad. “I think I would have liked that– just building things with you.” 

Ekko nods. It hurts, right in that place to the left of his ribcage, but it’s a different kind of ache from before. This, he thinks, is more manageable. She laces her fingers between his and kisses him slowly and deliberately and he knows it is goodbye. Ekko savors the taste of her, presses back into her, making sure she won’t forget him. 

Then she pulls away. Untangles their fingers. She takes two steps away and hops off the platform, and Ekko remains at the tree watching her go. She wanders off, still dappled by that sunlight, light as the wind. 

Sometimes taking a leap forward means leaving a few things behind. 

What’s one more goodbye?

He isn’t expecting her to turn back, to look over her shoulder at him. 

“Five years,” Jinx calls. Ekko raises his eyebrows at her. “Give me five years– to get my head on straight, to see the world, to figure out who I’m gonna be next. If you’re here in five years– meet me here.” 

“I’ll hold you to that,” Ekko shouts back. “Shine the place up nicely for you!” 

“You’d better!” 

She throws a peace sign over her eye. Grins. 

And then she is gone. 

Ekko waits for a long time. Leans against the wall and watches the patterns of green-and-gold light from the leaves of the tree. Then at last he looks up at her portrait on the wall and sighs. Smiles.

“Well, time to get to it.” 

---

True to her word, she comes back. True to his word, he is waiting. 

[bibiznbyler]

Had an idea for an anderperry epilogue AU where neil is a ghost watching over all his friends for the past 10 years, but everyone is on vacation for the holidays except for Todd, so he's alone at Neil's grave this year.

And Todd, still filled with grief, a decade later, visits Neil and sobs for a while. Now, it isn't out of the ordinary for Todd to visit but never before has he cried except the 1st year after. Maybe it's because he's by himself this time (or so he thinks)

But here is is on the tenth anniversary wailing into the cold, hitting the snow defeatedly before leaning against the tombstone. And Neil, loving as always, tries to comfort him by reaching out, when suddenly Todd flinches.

He feels a warm touch on his shoulder but there's no one there. Tears well up again at the thought his friend is coming to visit him.

Neil frowns deeply at the sight, and continues to rub his friend's back.

Todd freezes. Quietly, he whispers, his warm breath making a light fog in the cold.

"N-Neil...?" He questions into the still air.

Neil perks up quickly, and quickly taps his friends back quicker.

Todd swallows, hot tears flowing slow but steady. "No way..."

He pauses. "I miss you Neil"

Neil of course can't speak, so he just gives his friend a hug. The warmth consumes Todd's torso and he chokes out a gasp, wiping his tears, hugging his friend back where he imagined he'd be, based on how their hugs used to be.

Neil was elated. His friend knew he was there! Even though Todd can't here him, he still whispers into his friends ear, "i miss you too Todd"

He squeezes Todd closer. Todd can't feel the pressure, but he can feel the increased warmth.

Todd speaks again, "I have so many questions- I mean... how are you? Good? Bad? Have you been here this whole time? I-" Todd stops. "Oh," his eyes somehow fill with more tears. "You can't respond."

He bits his lip to stiffle a sob.

"God, I miss you so much. We never even... I never..." his voice breaks. He sobs into his knees as Neil's warmth stays present, and rubs his friends back.

Todd continues, "i never got to say goodbye... you didn't even write a note, you didn't even call, i mean you..." Todd sighs deeply. "It's just not fair... we were only boys, Neil. Our whole lives ahead of us... I know your dad was..." he trails off.

"But couldn't you hold out until you turned 18? Or tried to run away together? I wouldve gone with you, you were my best friend, I-"

Todd stops when he feels the warmth leave his body for a second and is replaced by a hand-sized heat on his cheek, persumingly Neil attempting to wipe a tear. Todd wipes it himself.

"I'm sorry, Neil. That... that we were too young... to save you from it all. That you felt like that's all you could've done. Im sorry we weren't there that night. I'm sorry we didn't try harder to fight your dad. I'm so, so sorry."

Neil smiles weakly, when he gets an idea. He stops touching Todd, who instantly becomes cold. Todd panicks. "Wait- please Neil! Don't go! Im sorry if I made you mad, please! I cant do this alone! I can't-" he stops when he notices a single divet in the snow, and then another.

Foot-shaped. Neil had begun walking instead of floating. Todd got up slowly and followed, questiongly, glancing back at his friend's tombstone.

Neil leads Todd to his car.

"I'm not ready to leave," Todd frowns deeply, before seeing the craziest thing: writing. The heat from Neil must be to turn the fog on the windows to droplets of water.

Neil's handwriting: narrow and tall, slanted to the right.

'I'm doing good. I've been watching over all of you, mainly you and Nuwanda,' Neil stops to laugh and continues writing.

Lower on the car window, there's a large 'I miss you' written out, followed a few seconds later with a smaller text: 'a lot.'

Todd stares for a while.

Neil draws 2 hearts at the bottom which he then follows by 2 drawings of stick figures holding hands, which he writes ''til death do us part haha' underneath.

Todd finally smiles, a large grin on his face, before it falls slightly. Neil mirrors him.

Todd sighs heavily before speaking.

"You know... back then... I... I liked you..." Todd looks down shamefully. "Like, a crush"

Neil writes quickly, and todd glances up.

Written neatly as always, there is a small 'me too.'

Todd's eyes widen and they moisten for the 10 millionth time that day.

"Do you think... if you never... you know, do you think we would've realized our feelings? And... do you think we would've been together secretly or something...?"

Neil thinks about it.

'Yes. I know it.'

Todd notices the way there extra emphasis written on the "know," and smiles lightly. Exhaling softly, Todd asks something.

"Would you kiss me?"

Neil freezes. Over the many years he has accepted many things about himself that he tried pushing down in his adolescence. But the fear somehow was still there, maybe at the other ghosts lingering with the occasional loved one. He slowly leans in, before getting a boost of confidence.

Todd feels the instant warmth, about 5 seconds and he's elated, as he shuts his eyes and imagines Neil.

Todd feels the absence and presses his lips together before speaking again.

"I can't wait until the day we meet again. It will be a long time but I hope you'll wait for me?"

Todd watches as the letters appear in front of him, on the next window over.

"I'm with you every day. There is no wait, even if you can't see me. I am always with you at home, in town, at work. More than I see anyone else. You were-" he crosses out 'were,' replacing it with, "are my best friend. I'm there when the gang is together, laughing and making jokes at the same time as someone else and pretend that you all are laughing with me. So, I hope you wait for me."

Todd grins. "Of course."

-----

And so on and so forth blah blah blah. Also ignore that i wrote this in like the present tense idk why i did that it lowkey feels weird lol

[theamityelf]

May I request more RoD Fuyuhiko and kidnapped Makoto? 😩

Oh boy, I've imagined this so many ways. Right now, I'm kind of into the idea of it being a very formal and dignified kidnapping.

Like, he's got that three-piece suit brand of villainy; he could send Peko to knock Makoto out and drag him home (and if they were close/dating in school, he does think of his home as Makoto's home, however complicated his feelings are now), but more likely he's sending a car to block Makoto's (walking) path and Peko climbs out and informs Makoto that the head of the yakuza would like a word and it's nonnegotiable.

Ideally (for Fuyuhiko), he does this before the Future Foundation gets to Makoto, but he'll find a way after, if needed. (And it's perhaps more interesting, story-wise, if Makoto has at least spent a couple of days with Future Foundation before Fuyuhiko can abduct him.) Whatever the case, he'll make arrangements to get Makoto alone, a car will pull up in front of him, and:

"Makoto Naegi," the gray-haired woman says. (Not like a question; it hasn't been a question since the killing game. At least, not a genuine one. It's so weird, to have other people know his name before he knows theirs.) "Your presence has been requested. The boss asks that you get in the car without making a scene, and nobody gets hurt."

"The boss?"

"You won't know the details until you meet the boss in person." The young woman shifts her shoulders in a way that subtly hefts the sword bag strapped to her back– which she hasn't yet reached for. "Will you come willingly and save the lives of the companions who have lost track of you already, or will you resist, be taken by force, and guarantee the blood of your companions is shed?"

Makoto's confused demeanor hardens, sharpens, the adrenaline pumping in his veins sending him right into trial mode, ready to argue, to push his way to the right answer.

But before an argument can form in his mouth, he takes another breath. And he says, "They won't be harmed if I get in the car?"

They will lie to you, he's been told. They will trick you. It's not like Enoshima's game; those aligned with despair have no rules, no honor. Especially not if they valued those things before.

"The boss gives his word," the young woman replies. "They won't be harmed."

If she's telling the truth, then he has to get in the car. If she's not...then she still has a sword, is the thing. And even without it, she's bigger and he's alone.

"Then I hope your boss doesn't squander his word," Makoto says warily.

"And I hope you aren't stalling." Strangely, the young woman smirks. The look she's giving him now is almost fond. "I've told you once before that you aren't good at it. But you don't remember that, do you?"

Before he can wrap his head around that, gunshots start going off somewhere.

Makoto's blood runs cold, at the sound of far-off screams. "You said they wouldn't-!"

The young woman merely sighs, rolling her eyes and drawing her sword from her bag as languidly as though it's a tedious chore. "They're early," she says. "Heads will roll for that. My master wanted you to come willingly. It would have pleased him a great deal."

Makoto does his best to run, but she strikes him with the hilt just hard enough to dizzy (and no doubt bruise) him, and while he's disoriented, she hauls him into the car and locks the doors.

She buckles him in while he's blinking the stars out of his eyes and nursing the sore spot. By the time he's steadied himself enough to try to unbuckle himself or reach for the car door, her blade is already hovering at his throat.

She's sitting beside him, also buckled in. The car has started moving– some faceless driver, divided from them by tinted glass. "My master would prefer that I deliver you to him untied," she informs him, "but I am permitted to bind your wrists and ankles, should you make it necessary."

"Who are you?" he asks.

"You don't need a name to address me, with only two of us here. And once I deliver you to the boss, there will be no need for you to address me at all."

"But who are you?"

With a single, almost imperceptibly swift motion, her sword returns to its bag. "I am the sword on my back," she answers. "Don't waste your questions on a sword."

He falls asleep in the car; it's a long-ish ride. He doesn't mean to nod off, but subconsciously there's an assumption that when the car stops, he'll naturally wake up.

This does not happen.

Instead, he wakes up in someone's private study.

There are bookshelves, a big wooden desk and cushioned chair. The lights are off, but there's a fire in the fireplace. Makoto is sprawled across a small couch. The gray-haired woman stands with her back to the wall and her hands folded.

And a small figure stands warming by the fire. His back to Makoto, his whole form shadowed.

"You know," the young man says, "I really didn't expect you to survive."

Makoto's hand finds the sore spot on his head again. (For some reason, he's thinking of Mondo.) "I, uh, get that a lot."

A breathy laugh. "I'll fvcking bet. What else do you get a lot?"

"...That I'm short in person? That I should've told someone about Sakura. That I should see a doctor, because that fall might have caused internal damage. That my voice sounded kind of squeaky on TV. That my eyes actually look browner than they expected, or greener. That Sayaka..." He trails off. People...say a lot of things about Sayaka. That they used to be a fan of hers but would never see her the same, that they were still a fan and they hoped it was okay with him, that they'd been rooting for Makoto to figure out her plan before...Yeah, they say a lot of things.

Why is he telling a stranger any of this?

Is he stalling, knowing this conversation is likely to get a lot less friendly soon?

It doesn't feel like it. He does feel the dread of knowing that this abduction is clearly not a friendly one; he heard the gunshots earlier. He remembers that. But something in the way the young man at the fireplace laughed, the way the gray-haired woman smiled, before...He doesn't know them, but it seems like they know him. Not in the way of the people who feel they know him from watching the killing game. Talking to them feels like talking to people who actually know him.

"That Maizono b!tch," the young man scoffs. "I could have thrown up, watching you fawn over her fake *ss all over again."

And just like that, Makoto's curiosity takes a back seat. "Don't call her that!"

"Traitor-*ss b!tch. I was glad she died first."

Makoto springs to his feet, but he's barely taken two steps in the young man's direction before the gray-haired woman has once again blocked him with the edge of her blade. "Sayaka wasn't a traitor! She never wanted to hurt anyone! That was just what Junko drove her to!"

"...And that's saying something," the young man continues, ignoring Makoto's interruption, "because I was really wondering what it would feel like to watch you die. What I would become, after. I was really fvcking curious. Still am."

Makoto's fear doesn't supersede his anger; it just shapes it. "I don't know who you are," he says bluntly.

The young man's head turns slightly, but other than that he doesn't respond.

"Who are you?"

"The kid wants an introduction." His head turns toward the gray-haired woman. Though Makoto can't see his face, the smirk is audible in his voice as he continues, "Only, suppose we like to be forgotten."

"I figured you were probably someone I used to know...right?"

Once again, no verbal answer.

"Both of you," he continues. "Maybe...from my time at Hope's Peak Academy, or maybe-"

"Did I say his *ss could speak?" the young man inquires.

"You didn't, Young Master," the gray-haired woman says.

"I don't know what you want with me," Makoto continues firmly. "Or, what you think you're getting out of bringing me here, so it would help if you'd just tell me." After a second of silence, he added, "If you're someone who thinks I killed Junko-"

"You didn't kill Junko." The young man turns to face Makoto, but the darkness in the room and the fire at his back still make it impossible to really see his face. "Junko went out on her own terms. You didn't even push the button; all you did was win an unwinnable game. And those dumb*sses sure were desperate to hitch themselves to a winner."

"Who are you?"

"Don't get me wrong, I'm still fvcking pissed off that we all missed out on Plan A. She told us all about the execution she'd put herself through if she somehow lost, but Plan A was always a surprise. She was so sure she'd win."

"Who are you?"

"But that's not why you're here." Suddenly, the young man grabs a fistful of Makoto's shirt and drags him close. They're face to face. Makoto sees golden eyes and freckles. "No, you're here because I was denied the chance to watch you die. And like I said, I'm really fvcking curious."

Before Makoto can conceive of a response, he is shoved backwards to the carpeted floor.

"Take him to his room."

"H-Hey...!" Makoto winces as the gray-haired woman grabs him by the upper arm, yanks him to his feet, and drags him from the room.

[eldritch-spouse]

Ohh thinking about Nebul, I love him so much.

Would he accept maybe a non-verbal request from his pearl (maybe a well-behaved pearl but one that has not yet completed the training). Something like maybe asking for physical affection like head pats or cuddles by trying to nudge his hand with their head.

How would he react?

Hope you are having a good day ^^ - 🪶🍵

[I am, thenk you! A little burned out on the drawing side of things, but I got ideas for Christmas.]

A good pet can get away with many gestures, and even earn some flexibility from Nebul!

Non-verbal tendencies? Not a deal breaker, you can show submission and obedience in many other ways. In fact, actions do ring louder than words here.

The first time you nudge his hand without permission, Nebul implements a different rule. Make request gestures, such as mimicking the motion of a hand over your head, or squeezing your hands in his direction as a suggestion to cuddle. The key here is to not touch your master without his permission. If you pick up on that successfully, Nebul will eventually allow you to nudge his hand or pick it up on your own.

You'd be surprised how much Nebul can accommodate a non-verbal pearl if you make an effort to please him.