#& they need to help you because there is clearly something wrong with you

[chrisbesitos]

Chris being in a horrible mood which younger!reader makes better (fluff or bj)

Chris got home in a terrible mood after being out the whole day, busy with meets about his job with his brothers and his own brand. You were in his room, he texted you an hour ago saying he'll be home in ten minutes, but it's been an hour already. You patiently wait for him, sitting on his desk chair playing Stardew Valley on his computer, babbling the song playing on your earphones when Chris abruptly opens the door, hitting them against the wall. You jump on the chair, taking your earphones out and staring at him in shock.

"Damn, you scared me!" You say, your eyebrows frowned and a pouty formed in your lip. Chris just huffs, sitting on the bed and tugging his shoes off without saying anything. He got home and did not even give you a kiss after not seeing you the whole day, this kinda annoyed you. "What's wrong?" You ask, noticing something clearly wrong.

"Nothing's wrong. Go back to your game, I'm gonna shower." He hums, lifting his body from the bed and walking to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. You hate when he treats you like this when he's in a bad mood, even though you're kinda mean with him when you're in a bad mood, but he never complains.

After a couple minutes, you have already turned the computer off and now you're waiting for Chris in the bed, with your eyebrows frowned in an irritated face. Chris got out of the bathroom, his naked torso filled with water droplets, the towel around his neck while he dries his hair. You're trying to keep your angry mood with him, but it's impossible when he's standing all hot in front of you. You bite your lower lip, crossing your legs under the covers.

"What are pouting for now, huh?" Chris asks, throwing the towel on the desk chair. He climbs on the bed, crawling to be by your side. You didn't answer him, just turn your look to the TV, the TV who's turned off. Chris groans, rolling his blue eyes. "C'mon, Y/N. I had a terrible day and now you're acting like this just because I didn't give you a kiss?" You shake your shoulders.

"And you scared me when you slammed the door." You murmur, turning your look to Chris, who's laying on his stomach rubbing his eyes, he looks tired. "Just talk with me! You had a bad day? Okay, then talk with me, I'll help you too feel better. Jus' don't take it on me." You hit your lap with your hands, sighing frustrated. Chris nods, lifting his head to put his arms under and laying down again on them after.

"Fine, I'm sorry." He murmurs. He takes a deep and sharp breath. "First, I'm having this pouting headache since morning, like nonstop and is killing me. I have meetings all day, just a little break for lunch and when I finally thought I could go home, they told me they forgot to talk about something and I had to go back. I had a shitty day and sorry if I take this on you, I just. . . Uh." Chris groans. You heard his rant about his day rubbing his hair with your fingertips, your short nails scratching his scalp trying to help with his headache. You feel a little bad for acting clingy before.

"I'm sorry, baby. I really do." You say, leaning your body to kiss your forehead. Your warm puffy and pink lips pressed against his painful head, Chris closes his eyes. "There's something I can do for you?" You whisper, moving your hand from his head to his cheek, brushing your thumb on his skin.

"Just stay with me." He whispers, without opening his eyes, because the light was making his head hurt more. You nod, but before you climb out of the bed and walk until the bathroom, looking for painkillers for Chris in the bathroom cabinets. You walk back to the bed, reaching for your water bottle on the nightstand, you tap Chris shoulder. "Thank you." He mumbles, after taking the medicine for his painful head.

"You want to eat something? I can make you. . ." You say, but Chris cuts you.

"Doll, I just need you. I just want you to lay with me." Chris says, giving you a small smile. You nod, climbing on the bed and putting yourself — and Chris — under the blanket, you lay on your stomach next to your boyfriend. You rub his back with your fingertips, your head rested on his shoulder while you listen to his lightly snores. You smile, closing your eyes slowly stopping the caress on his back, falling asleep with him.

꩜ chérie's notes: im still not confident enough to post another smut, so i still gonna write only fluff and angst, sorry lol :b but i hope you like it <3

tags ; @lizzymacdonald06 @lushjunkie @sweetreliever @watercolorskyy @ivysturnss @brianna-grace12 @blahbel668 @gabri3la-sturns @stvrnzcherries @unknvhx @pvssychicken @all4l0vee @i4longhairchris @sluttybitchformattsturniolo @sophand4n4 @sturniololetstrip2 @zayluvss @sturnsmia @sofieeeeex @ifwdominicfike @planettori @jetaimevous @leclecwifey16 @mattswifeyx @joclyn240 @voqueflms @pepsicola-pussy @sturnobsessedwh0re @chrissturnioloswifeee @sturniolossss @imonlyhereformattfluff @sturniolosluttt

masterlist. | taglist.

[charlotteking23]

Do you write for Claw Noir? If not just ignore this. Can you write a Claw Noir falling in love with reader from another dimension and isn't sure what to do because he doesn't know what love is please

Love? What is Love?

Claw noir x reader

Summary: above in the request.

Claw Noir stared at the strange, glowing portal that had appeared in his dimly lit alleyway.

He had seen a lot of weird stuff in his time as a cat burglar, but this was something else.

Suddenly, a girl tumbled out of the shimmering light. You had long, c hair and big eyes.

Claws' ears perked up as you looked around, clearly disoriented.

"Where...where am I?" you muttered.

Claw Noir approached you slowly, not wanting to scare you off. "You're in the city. What's your name?"

"I'm (your name)," you said, still looking around. "I was just walking home from the library, and then...and then this happened!"

Claw Noir blinked. Library? What was that? But he pushed on. "I'm Claws. Do you need some help?"

you looked at him, and your eyes widened. "You're a cat! A talking cat in a suit!"

Claw Noir shrugged. "Yeah. I'm a bit of an oddity."

But to his surprise, you just giggled. "Well, Claws, I think I could use your help. I have no idea how to get back home."

Claw Noir nodded. He knew the city like the back of his paw. "I can help you find someone who can deal with that portal thingy. But first, how about some food? You look starving."

Your face lit up. "I am starving! But I don't have any money..."

Claw Noir waved a paw. "Don't worry about it. I've got this covered."

And with that, Claws took you on a grand adventure through the city's rooftops and hidden corners.

They shared fish from a street vendor, and you told him about your world - a world with towering buildings that touched the sky, and people who stared at little glowing rectangles all day.

Claws told you about his cons, about how he outsmarted the cops at every turn.

As the night wore on, Claws found himself wanting to spend more and more time with you.

He found himself grinning like a fool whenever you laughed, and he felt a pang in his chest whenever you touched his arm.

But what was this feeling? He'd never felt it before. He only looked out for himself.

The next day, Claws took you to see a guy who owed him a favor - a weird old dude who knew about magic and stuff.

The old guy examined the portal, muttering to himself. Finally, he looked up.

"I can get you back home, girl. But it's gonna take a few hours to set up."

You let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you so much!"

Claws felt that pang again, sharper this time. He didn't want you to go.

But at the same time, he couldn't ask you to stay in this hard, mean city. So he just nodded. "I'll show you around until it's ready."

As the hours ticked by, Claws found himself opening up to you in ways he never had with anyone before.

He told you about his past, about how he'd survived on the streets since he was a kitten.

He told you about his fears, about how he was always looking over his shoulder.

And through it all, you listened with kind eyes. You didn't judge him, like everyone else did.

Finally, the old guy called them over. The portal was glowing again. You hugged Claws tightly. "Thank you for everything. I'll never forget you."

Claws hugged you back, feeling his eyes sting. What was wrong with him? He never got emotional.

But as he watched you step through the portal and vanish, he realized what that weird feeling was.

He was in love. He was in love, and he didn't know what to do about it.

[mightbeimpossiblenotto]

Show - Oct 30 - @rosekillermicrofic - 808 words - Warnings: none

“Will you please stop by Spellbinding Sound for me?” Pandora begged as soon as Evan picked up her call.

“‘Hello, Evan, my dearest brother,’” Evan said dryly. “I think you’re supposed to greet me at the very least before asking for a favor.”

Pandora sighed noisily. “I just need a new pack of reeds for my clarinet, and you know which ones to buy.”

Evan sighed back at her. “I suppose it is on the way home. I’ll drop by for you, if you make me dinner.”

“Deal,” Pandora said, hanging up immediately. Evan looked at his phone blankly, offended for a moment, before remembering she was probably in the middle of practicing when she called.

Spellbinding Sound was a small music supply shop that Pandora favored, and Evan had been sent there a few times on errands for her. He usually didn’t mind; the owner, an older man named Albus, was kind and patient. When Evan entered the store, though, he was already helping a customer.

“Would you like me to restring the instrument for you?” Albus was asking the man in front of him. The man was shorter than Evan, with dark, tousled hair and several face piercings: two on his lip, another on his eyebrow, another on his nose, too many to count on both ears. He was wearing a graphic band t-shirt over ripped-up jeans, a leather jacket slung over his shoulder. His bare arms were covered in tattoos, and they continued up his neck and down his hands. Evan found himself wondering where else the man was tattooed.

“No, thanks,” the man said in a smooth voice. “I like to do it myself.”

He picked up his strings, which Evan assumed were for some sort of guitar or bass for his punk band, based on the man’s appearance. The man nearly ran into Evan when he spun around and walked towards the door with a swift gait.

“My bad,” the man said, worrying one of the lip rings between his teeth for a moment. “I’m Barty.”

Confused as to why the man gave his name, Evan responded with his own. “Evan.”

Evan tried to step around Barty, but Barty stepped into his path again.

“You like music?” Barty asked, and before Evan could answer, he continued talking. “You should come to my show. Friday night at the Slytherin Stage. I hope I’ll see you there.”

Evan watched him walk out the door, raising both eyebrows at the man’s gall. Inviting him to a show was one thing, but leaving directly after the invite was just dramatic. Evan shook it off and stepped up to the counter and greeted Albus.

“Does Pandora need new reeds?” Albus asked knowingly, his eyes sparkling. Evan nodded. They chatted amicably while Albus grabbed the reeds for Evan, and processed the payment for them. Soon enough, Evan was on his way home to Pandora.

Evan didn’t even know why he was attending the concert. He wasn’t a punk music person — but something about Barty had made him want to learn more. Maybe it was his overconfidence or attractiveness, but Evan felt compelled to come to his show that evening. He was surprised that attendees were dressed so nicely, and he was glad that he had come directly after work, so he was still wearing his nice work slacks and a button-down shirt. As he took his seat in the audience, in a gorgeous emerald-green auditorium. He was starting to think he had greatly misread the man he’d spoken to, because there was no way he was about to see some sort of punk band performance.

Nerves flew in his stomach as he wondered what he had signed up for, just as the curtains pulled back and revealed an entire full symphony orchestra. Evan scanned the faces of every single person until he found Barty, sitting at the very front left. He was first chair violin, the goddamn concertmaster. Evan had him pegged completely wrong.

To make matters worse, Barty looked even more attractive in the emerald green suit and tie, with his instrument propped on his knee and his bow in his other hand. Evan had been so stupid to assume he played the guitar, when clearly Barty’s body had been made to hold the violin. The conductor raised his hands, and then lovely music filled the auditorium as the orchestra began.

Evan was entranced. He watched Barty throughout the entire performance, never taking his eyes off Barty’s graceful movements. He ended up lingering by the side stage, waiting for Barty after the show. When the man emerged, he looked surprised to see Evan there.

“You came,” he said softly, before seemingly shaking confidence back into himself. “You liked the show, didn’t you?”

“I did,” Evan said. “I really did.”

And then he stepped forward and kissed Barty.

[sunkissedscribbles]

Prejudiced - Chapter Fourteen

this is only a part of the series, the previous and next chapters can be found here 

A/N: nothing just cass' pure frustration WORD COUNT: 1.4k TW: swearing, blood, mentions of sex probably

<PREVIOUS CHAPTER         NEXT CHAPTER>

Valentine’s Day. Something I’ve dreamt so much about as a kid. I used to think I’d have someone by now to spend the day with. But clearly, I don’t, and I don’t want to think about what my five-year-old self would think about me if she saw me.

Pathetic?

Probably.

She’d be disappointed, and she’d doubt how much I’m worth. How much she’s worth.

Valentine’s Day. Kiara’s disappeared to god-only-knows-where, which isn’t even a surprise anymore, not these weeks. Theo’s shagging someone, probably. Maybe Kiara. And Mattheo? He went on a date. With Marietta Edgecombe. A Ravenclaw. Who isn’t me.

Why did I write that?

Valentine’s day. The day I, yet again, spend alone.

I don’t seem to be able to relax, even for a bit. I’m restlessly switching between playing the guitar I finally got back from Ki, fidgeting with whatever I find and cringing over what I’ve written into my diary before.

Why is there so much written about Mattheo?

Pat-he-tic.

Taking a walk doesn’t help, either. Partially because I can feel the portraits’ eyes on me as I walk through the quiet corridors. I can feel them judging; ‘Poor Black doesn’t have a date for her pathetic ass.’

Or I’m just paranoid.

Oh, that’s a great song.

No, I’m just going mad.

And partially, because turning into another corridor, I collide with the most irritating human being to ever walk the earth.

Cormac

Bloody,

Shitty,

Frustrating,

Punchable

McLaggen.

“Ah, Cassandra–“

“Cassiopeia,” I correct him.

“–long time no see, pretty girl. I miss patrolling with you.” That obnoxious grin. Bah.

I can’t help but zone out as Cormac keeps talking and talking, endlessly, and my mind takes me to when he called me Cassandra in Mattheo’s presence, how the latter–

Merlin, I shouldn’t think so much about him. What is wrong with me? He’s out with a Ravenclaw, on a date. I have no right wishing he thought this much about me too.

“...so what are you doing in the castle, all alone, on Valentine’s?” McLaggen’s voice snaps me out of my thoughts and I look up at him.

“What are you doing inside on Valentine’s?” I roll my eyes at him, clearly not in the mood to tolerate his bullshit.

“Talking to a pretty girl,” he grins, completely unaware of my mood. “How about we skip courting and have a bit of fun?” he grins devilishly and I step back with a disgusted expression. But he’s aware and reached out after me to grab my elbow. “C’mon Black, don’t be such a prude.”

“Let go, fucker,” I shake his grip off my arm but that doesn’t help too much, he grabs ahold of it again and I freeze for a second, not knowing what to do. “What is it, not having the balls without your boyfriend here?” He mocks and my blood boils as he dares to even talk about Mattheo, who isn’t even my boyfriend. “Are you really that much into snakes? They bite, do you know that? Especially Riddle. Has he shown you his Mark yet?” he keeps pulling me against my will and I try to reach for my wand, my blood boiling further and further.

I manage to free a wrist, not caring about the red spots his fingers sunken into my flesh have caused, but just as I swing an arm to take revenge on him for his words, his head yanks forward as an external force pulls him from behind, and before I know it, Enzo is wrestling Cormac on the cold stone floor, both bleeding and throwing curse words at each other. “Don’t you dare talk to her like that! Don’t you fucking dare touch her!” Enzo growls, beating the other boy up, and I need a few seconds to register the situation before stepping between them.

☆☆☆☆

“What was that for?” I scoff as I pull Enzo away in the direction of the infirmary.

“Where are we going?” he ignores my question.

“The infirmary,” I scoff, taking my hoodie off to press it against his bleeding nose.

“No. My dorm,” he insists, reluctantly holding my hoodie to his nose after I reassure him I don’t care about the blood stains.

I stop. “Your do- what? Why?” I frown, already having pictures in my mind of him trying to do whatever to me in there. I still don’t trust him after the incident with the black book, for which we still haven’t made up.

“Please,” he turns back to look at me with pleading eyes, his voice slightly muffled by the hoodie.

I clean the wounds on his face in complete silence as he’s sitting on his bed, looking up at me once the bleeding of his nose has stopped. The only sound is a mix of our breathing, the ruffling of clothes and his hissing as the alcohol touches and skims over his wounds.

The silence between us is all-consuming, almost too loud, too frustrating.

“Cass,” Enzo starts in a broken voice.

“It’s okay,” I cut him off with a low murmur, throwing the alcohol- and blood-soaked cotton buds into the rubbish bin before a step closer to the door of the dorm where I once loved to be.

“No,” he springs to his feet to gently but firmly wrap his fingers around my wrist, to have my attention, “It’s not okay, and you know it. You’ve been avoiding me ever since–”

“Yes, ever since,” I scoff, freeing my wrist. “You were my best friend.”

“No, that’s Kiara,” he objects with a mirrored scoff.

“No, you too.”

He lets out an incredulous, bitter snort and shakes his head. “No. I’ve been second to Ki all these years. Everyone says I’m their best friend, too, but it’s clear as day you’d choose Kiara over me any day, as she would you, Mattheo Theo and vice versa.”

His words hit like a ton of bricks because I know he’s right.

“I made a mistake, I know. Have I been sleeping around? Yes, but so has Mattheo. He suggested the bet, too, and you two seem to be attached by the hip. You think I haven’t noticed all the times he disappeared after a nightmare and came back the next morning? You think I don’t know who he went to?”

My eyes widen. He knows about his nightmares?

“I know,” he lets out another broken little huff that makes my heart ache. “I know everything. Just because I changed I didn’t become an obnoxious bastard.”

“Oh, haven’t you? Then how about Ki’s name in the black book? How about mine?” I retort with an incredulous scoff.

His facial expressions harden again at the mention. “I fucked up, I know. I was inconsiderate and–“

“Why’d you do it?” I cut him off, my voice trembling slightly.

“I was jealous,” he admits, and my eyes widen just ever so slightly. “Of Mattheo. He came along and you forgot about me. You started spending all your time with him when you weren’t with Kiara, and fuck, I wanted you to kiss me, not him.”

“But–”

“I fucking loved you, Cassiopeia Apollonia Black,” he lets out another bitter chuckle, the painful sound only making my heart ache more and more. “I loved you, and you had no idea, hell, you still don’t know. And I was a possessive prick, I wanted you all to myself. I wanted you to see how I could treat you right, but my plan backfired with the bet and all. I’m sorry, I loved you.”

My heart stops beating for a second, trying to process his words, and I can feel my feet wanting to run away because hell, this is a really big problem. This is a question of love which my head can’t make sense of.

Enzo’s hand reaches out to hold the door closed as he sees the twitch in my right foot, and I hesitantly meet his eyes after a few seconds.

“Do you… still–?”

He shakes his head. “No. Not like that. I love you, as a friend. And I miss you. Miss my best friend.”

A tear streams down my face after all these weeks of drowning emotions, and just a second later, I see a pinky finger rise in my direction. After my confusion dies, I let out a chuckle in a sob, and link my pinky with his.

“Friends?” he asks with a hopeful, apologetic smile.

“Friends,” I nod, though I’m still a bit untrusting after the black-book thing, but my heart feels lighter already.

tag list: @inksoakedparchment @mattiesgf @mqstermindswift @girllblogging777 @myysunshine @yelanare @mamartinez

🎀 comment to be added to the tag list

[inkskinned]

it mattered because when my brother asked me what if this is the happiest you'll ever be? the best you'll ever get? the thing i felt was fear, not peace. everybody thought you were so perfect for me. even i thought you were "helping me grow". i had to challenge every internal clock. make myself more thoughtful, more kind, more beautiful.

i told my therapist it was good because i like the changes i made and there's something so strong about saying i did that. the problem is that i can like the difference all i want, but i changed for you. something akin to getting your name tattooed, all my progress is stamped with fuck you.

it was the happiest i'd ever been and also the best i'd ever gotten. i would still get in the car and think what the fuck just happened.

[xxcyberghostxx]

au where bill realizes he's losing in the weirdmageddon and uses his newfound control over time to place himself in the twin's lives wayyyyy before they get to gravity falls in order to manipulate them into trusting him

[pa-pa-plasma]

one of the things that will always destroy me is people believing that good story = darker/more mature/more sexual. this belief has ruined so many stories that could have been amazing & has prevented almost everyone from enjoying other really good stories simply because the age range it's aimed at is one they believe can't have complex themes, characters, plot, etc etc. they don't believe they can be moved by something a publisher or studio decided is for kids & so write it off without even thinking about it. biggest curse of being a writer who actually loves stories & telling them is that literally no one else cares in the most pessimistic, higher-than-thou, capitalism brainrot way you can imagine. & it's all automatic. because that's just what you're taught.

[aromanticannibal]

The pattern is that people straight up do not read™. or they read a 3-5 tweet summary of what happened and treat it as if they did. or because shonen expectations based on "the classics" is bullshit and significantly rotted people's brains when deciding wether an ending is good or not.

Which could be nothing right

yeahhh. i will forever regret reading the last chapter through leaks because it was a dreadful experience, and watching everyone ever shit on it for like a week after genuinely made me want to just get off the internet forever or something because i felt like an idiot for liking the ending (all this is my fault for getting too invested in both tumblr and mha etc etc).

All the "it's rushed" and pacing complaints barely matter to me at this point because you just cannot feel the pacing of something correctly when you're reading it exclusively through leaks. you can't absorb info like that. And don't get me started on the number of complaints and criticisms I've seen of the last chapter that are just provably bullshit (I saw someone say Izuku didn't get a statue lmao. yes he did, you just read the fucking leaks and watched twitter drama unfold instead of reading the actual chapter i fear).

[widevibratobitch]

.

[blodeuweddschild]

Imo most of the time a child should decided to do/not do something not because they know their parents don’t want them it and they’re scared of the consequences, but because their parent has explained why something should/shouldn’t be done in a way the child understands and makes sense to them. And consider if you can’t find a reason to explain to your kids, maybe there’s no reason at all and your rules are arbitrary

[thehmn]

I’m a strong proponent of lying to get the help you need. I always try the truthful route first but if that gets me nowhere? Lying it is.

I think it’s important to respect other people’s time, wellbeing and money so I don’t do it in situations where I know I’m in the wrong, like if I want to get into a place just for fun and someone could get in trouble for letting me in wrongfully I’d rather not.

But sometimes people just don’t understand why something is important in your situation so you have to turn it into something they understand. When I lived in England I constantly lied about being pregnant so gas station employees would let me use their bathroom because for some reason they didn’t have public bathrooms.

Or when my doctor’s secretary couldn’t get it into her head that my stomach pains were very serious and concerning and insisted I couldn’t get an appointment this month so that evening I “found” a lump that I was pretty sure was nothing but it meant I had a reason to call her the next day and get a new appointment immediately and when the doctor told me the lump was harmless I could tell her what my real problem was and she immediately scheduled ALL the tests and examinations because she understood how concerning it was. I just had to get past the fucking secretary with a lie.

Fuck I even support that elderly man who lied about having four children who were stuck in a house during a flood but when the rescue team got there in a dinghy they realized it was four dogs. The guy knew he had to lie because he was too sick to help them himself (able bodied people in the area were able to save their own pets) and they wouldn’t have helped him if they knew it was “just dogs”. In the video the rescue team can be seen choking up and padding him on the back while he cries with his scared dogs in his arms. The team is clearly not mad because they can see how important the dogs are to him but I have no doubt he was right in thinking they wouldn’t have helped if he had told them the truth.

So do what ya gotta do and lie lie lie.

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[mrsbarnesblog]

just us

masterlist

summary: a situation between pogues and kooks at the beach made Rafe rethink his priorities

word count: 1.8k.

warnings: season 4 spoilers, established relationship, mention of the dead turtle, that hoe Ruthie, protective Rafe

a/n: i'm obsessed with season 4, y'all. absolutely in love with everything that's going on and especially with Rafe being in a better place with a girl that he actually likes 🥹 this scene at the beach with turtles just made me sob, so I really need someone to drag that bitch by her hair. sorry not sorry.

Your heart was beating with adrenaline from the scene that just happened at the beach, with Topper’s girlfriend almost running over the pogues and being the usual insane bitch that she was. Rafe stood beside you, silent but shaking his buzzed head in disapproval.

Kie was standing on her knees on the sand, in shock, with juice still dripping down her face and hair. She brushed off the help of her friends, instead standing and picking something up from the ground, without hesitation, going towards the group of people around you. They seemed absolutely delighted by the whole situation, laughing, fist bumping each other, and making you want to punch every single one of them in the face. 

You didn’t even want to be here in the first place, not with a bunch of people with whom you shared mutual hatred towards each other. Rafe was your only connection with them, and it seemed like even for him it was a bit too much. A fun day at a beach with a little surfing competition, where even Topper and JJ seemed to have some fun together, took the wrong turn way too quickly.

“Look what you did! Is this okay?” Kie stopped in front of Ruthie, reaching out her hand to show something that you weren’t able to see, but by the look on her face it was obviously serious to her. “There was a turtle hatch, you idiots! You drove right over it!” Your stomach twisted at the realization, and you took a step closer to see it yourself. 

“Oh my God.” You whispered, catching a glimpse of a tiny dead turtle with a crushed shell laying in the palm of her hand. So little and harmless that the picture of it brought tears to your eyes. 

“Don’t look, baby.” Rafe’s deep voice mumbled near your ear, with a warm hand sprawled across your back to try to distract you, but you shook your head, unable to take your eyes off it. 

“All right, but it was only one.” Ruthie said with her usual attitude, nonchalantly pointing to the rest of the turtles that, luckily, were perfectly fine. Your mouth opened in disbelief, and you looked at Rafe to see him uncomfortably rubbing the back of his head. 

“I’m so sorry, Kie…” You whispered to her, stepping further away from the kooks, eyes drifting again to the dead animal in her hand. No matter how hard you tried to fit in with Rafe and his friends, you could never be one of them if it meant to be a bunch of pompous and cruel rich kids. You thought that, maybe it was time for you to finally admit that. 

“It’s not your fault, Y/N.” She briefly looked at you, because despite not being friends, there never were any arguments between you and the rest of the pogues, always keeping cool and friendly with each other. “There’s something wrong with you, people.” Kiara looked back at the kooks with disgust written all over her face. 

“I’m leaving, Rafe.” Barely holding back your tears, you looked back at your boyfriend, before picking up your beach bag from the sand and turning around. “I’m sorry again for them, Kie.”

“No, wait, Y/N.” He pushed through the crowd, wide-eyed, quickly approaching you and grasping your wrist. “This is not—“

“I don’t want to be here. I didn’t sign up to hang out with your friends when I started dating you, okay?” You groaned in frustration, attempting to move, but Rafe stopped you. “I don’t even know why we’re here, why you are here, when you clearly don’t enjoy it anymore.” 

“Listen, this is not so easy, okay?” He rolled his eyes, but you knew it was not fully directed at you; Rafe was already struggling with trusting those around him, and the fact that you slowly but steadily made him reconsider his current surroundings did not help. 

“You are not like them, they are not your friends, don’t you understand it?” The pure desperation was speaking in you, searching for the answers in his eyes. You overheard some people laughing at you, as they were too confident that Rafe would never listen to someone like you, someone from the cut, not even realizing the war that was currently going on in his head. 

He was silent, thinking, making his already overwhelmed mind go hundred miles per hour to figure something out, because you were right. The more time had passed, the more the two of you were together, the less Rafe found himself enjoying the presence of his old friends, the less he wanted to do that childish bullshit. 

“This dumb fucking bitch almost ran over people and killed an innocent animal because her big ego got hurt, do you understand?! So I’m leaving. Alone or with you.” You almost whispered the last part to him, too scared that he'd not choose you. At the end of the day, you were a pogue, and no matter how much you tried, you would never be good enough for Rafe. 

“What did you just call me?” Ruthie arched a brow, now shooting daggers at you. 

“I called you a dumb fucking bitch, didn’t you hear me?” You spat, finally having a good enough reason to tell the truth right in her face. “Or are you too stupid to get that through your thick scull?” 

“That’s rich, coming for a pogue. It’s just a cycle of life. And if you, losers, are so offended by that, it’s not my problem.” 

“A cycle of life? Getting flattened by a truck is not a cycle of life.” Kiara pushed Ruthie with her hand, and it nearly turned into a fight, with JJ standing by his girlfriend's side. You turned away from them, too frustrated and drained to bother listening to the rest of the conversation, your gaze shifting to Rafe, who still held your hand.

“I want to leave. Stay here if you want to, I don’t care. I’m done with them, Rafe.” Your teary eyes met his blue ones, and he shook his head, pulling you closer with your forearms. The mere thought of you leaving him, angry and upset, triggered a whirlwind of panic within him.

“Hey, no, I’m not staying, okay?” Rafe's hands, now much gentler and delicate, touched your cheeks, wiping away a few tears that you could not keep back. Rafe had never been too comfortable with the display of emotions, and he was pretty sure that it was the first time he had actually seen you cry. And he knew how much you had always carried for animals, how you petted every stray cat or a dog on the street, and how you hated any form of violence against them. 

The pulsating and aching feeling in his chest at the sight of your tears made him want to drop everything, or rather, eliminate everyone who had upset you, and just hold you in his arms. 

“Aw, look at you.” You heard that annoying voice behind you back again, pulling you out of the bubble in which you fell, and turning around, you saw that Kie and JJ were no longer there. Your eyes instantly rolled back as Ruthie looked at you with her usual fake sympathy, crossing her arms over her chest. “Go back to your side of the island, you’re not one of us. Don’t even know why Rafe bothers to bring you here when you’re just another dirty toy to—“

Rafe left your side before she could finish her sentence, looming over her with the most furious expression you had ever seen on his face. Everyone and everything seemed to fall silent for a moment, and you held your breath, unsure what he would do. “Wanna say some bullshit about her? Try to do it right in my face and see what happens.”

“You’re not seriously protecting the pogue. She’s not on our side.” Her smile faded, her eyes now nervously looking between Rafe and Topper, who was standing behind her back. 

“C’mon, Rafe…” He started, but quickly shut his mouth as soon as Rafe turned his head towards him with a silent threat. You felt your heartbeat quickening as the atmosphere started to get even more intense. Everyone around you also started arguing and saying God knows what, but Rafe was awfully calm, and it frightened you even more. 

You moved closer to them as you made your way through the warm sand, until you were able to place a comforting hand on your boyfriend's back. He was so tense under your touch that it amazed you how the hell he was not shaking because of it. The only times you had ever seen him behaving that way was when people whispered something about his father behind his back.

“It’s okay, Ray.” You whispered, kissing his shoulder and sliding your hand down his back to take a hold of his bicep. 

“You’re lucky that I don’t hit women. But if I hear a single word about my girlfriend again, you will regret it, I promise you." Your stomach flattered from the way he protected you, from the way his friends opened their mouths in shock at his words. Even Topper and Kelce were too stunned to speak, sending each other weird glances. “Control, your crazy bitch, Top.” 

As if nothing had happened, Rafe stepped back, throwing a protective hand over your shoulders and guiding you away from the group. He was silent for a whole walk towards his truck, only stopping near the passenger door and turning you to face him. 

His worried blue eyes were almost shining under the bright and hot sun and you saw words forming in his head and sitting at the tip of his tongue. You waited another minute, while Rafe was focused on your necklace, thinking. His hands found a place on your waist, rubbing circles into your skin, until he finally took a deep breath and looked up. 

“You’re right.” He said simply. “I’m not this person anymore. That shit with racing with pogues was fun and all, but I didn’t like what happened today.” You half smiled, nodding and encouraging him to talk. “If—if I want to be like my dad, I need to have my priorities straight. No more of this bullshit, no more fake ass people, yeah? You’re the only one who's been here for me for a long fucking time. You’re the only one who I can trust, baby.”

His hand cupped your cheek, eyes focused solemnly on you, before he lowered himself closer to you to place a kiss on your lips. 

“This is the right decision. You’ve overgrown them, you’re a better man now. And i’ll be here for you whenever you need me, I promise. I guess it’s just us now." Your body sagged against his, too wrapped in the comfort of his presence to even care about anything else. Your lips brushed against his, making Rafe groan.

“Just us, baby.”

[fictionstudent]

How to pull off descriptions

New authors always describe the scene and place every object on the stage before they press the play button of their novels. And I feel that it happens because we live in a world filled with visual media like comics and films, which heavily influence our prose.

In visual media, it’s really easy to set the scene—you just show where every object is, doesn’t matter if they’re a part of the action about to come or not. But prose is quite different from comics and films. You can’t just set the scene and expect the reader to wait for you to start action of the novel. You just begin the scene with action, making sure your reader is glued to the page.

And now that begs the question—if not at the beginning, where do you describe the scene? Am I saying you should not use descriptions and details at all? Hell naw! I’m just saying the way you’re doing it is wrong—there’s a smarter way to pull off descriptions. And I’m here to teach that to you.

***

#01 - What are descriptions?

Let’s start with the basics—what are descriptions? How do you define descriptions? Or details, for that matter? And what do the words include?

Descriptions refer to… descriptions. It’s that part of your prose where you’re not describing something—the appearance of an object, perhaps. Mostly, we mean scene-descriptions when we use the term, but descriptions are more than just scene-descriptions.

Descriptions include appearances of characters too. Let’s call that character-descriptions.

Both scene-descriptions and character-descriptions are forms of descriptions that we regularly use in our prose. We mostly use them at the beginning of the scene—just out of habit.

Authors, especially the newer ones, feel that they need to describe each and every nook and cranny of the place or character so they can be visualized clearly by their readers, right as the authors themselves visualized them. And they do that at the start of the scene because how can you visualize a scene when you don’t know how the scene looks first.

And that’s why your prose is filled with how the clouds look or what lights are on the room before you even start with the dialogues and action. But the first paragraph doesn’t need to be a simple scene-description—it makes your prose formulaic and predictable. And boring. Let me help you with this.

***

#02 - Get in your narrator’s head

The prose may have many MCs, but a piece of prose only has a single narrator. And these days, that’s mostly one of the characters of your story. Who uses third-person omniscient narrator these days anyway? If that’s you, change your habits.

Anyway, know your narrator. Flesh out their character. And then internalize them—their speech and stuff like that. Internalize your narrator to such an extent that you can write prose from their point-of-view.

Now, I don’t mean to say that only your narrator should be at the center of the scene—far from it. What I mean is you should get into your narrator’s head.

You do not describe a scene from the eyes of the author—you—but from the eyes of the narrator. You see from their eyes, and understand what they’re noticing. And then you write that.

Start your scene with what the narrator is looking at.

For example,

The dark clouds had covered the sky that day. The whole classroom was in shades of gray—quite unusual for someone like Sara who was used to the sun. She felt the gloom the day had brought with it—the gloom that no one else in her class knew of.

She never had happy times under the clouds like that. Rain made her sad. Rain made her yearn for something she couldn’t put into words. What was it that she was living for? Money? Happiness?

As she stared at the sky through the window, she was lost in her own quiet little corner. Both money and happiness—and even everything else—were temporary. All of it would leave her one day, then come back, then leave, then come back, like the waves of an ocean far away from any human civilization in sight.

All of it would come and go—like rain, it’d fall on her, like rain, it’d evaporate without proof.

And suddenly, drops of water began hitting the window.

You know it was a cloudy day, where it could rain anytime soon. You know that for other students, it didn’t really matter, but Sara felt really depressed because of the weather that day. You know Sara was at the corner, dealing with her emotions alone.

It’s far better than this,

The dark clouds covered the sky that day. It could rain anytime soon.

From her seat at the corner of the room, Sara stared at the sky that made everything gray that day. She…

The main reason it doesn’t work is that you describe the scene in the first paragraph, but it’s devoid of any emotions. Of any flavor. It’s like a factual weather report of the day. That’s what you don’t want to do—write descriptions in a factual tone.

If you want to pull off the prior one, get to your narrator’s head. See from their eyes, think from their brain. Understand what they’re experiencing, and then write that experience from their POV.

Sara didn’t care what everyone was wearing—they were all probably in their school uniforms, obviously, so I didn’t describe that. Sara didn’t focus on how big the classroom was, or how filled, or what everybody was doing. Sara was just looking at the clouds and the clouds alone, hearing everybody just living their normal days, so I mentioned just those things.

As the author, you need to understand that only you, the author are the know-it-all about the scene, not your narrator. And that you’re different from your narrator.

Write as a narrator, not as an author.

***

#03 - Filler Words

This brings me to filler words. Now, hearing my advice, you might start writing something like this,

Sarah noticed the dark clouds through the window. She saw that they’d saturated the place gray.

Fillers words like “see”, “notice”, “stare”, “hear” should be ignored. But many authors who begin writing from the POV of the characters start using these verbs to describe what the character is experiencing.

But remember, the character is not cognizant of the fact that they’re seeing a dark cloud, just that it’s a dark cloud. You don’t need these filler words—straight up describe what the character is seeing, instead of describing that the character is seeing.

Just write,

There were dark clouds on the other end of the window, which saturated the place gray.

Sarah is still seeing the clouds, yeah. But we’re looking from her eyes, and her eyes ain’t noticing that she’s noticing the clouds.

It’s kinda confusing, but it’s an important mistake to avoid. Filler words can really make your writing sound more amateurish than before and take away the experience of the reader, because the reader wants to see through the narrator’s eyes, not that the narrator is seeing.

***

#04 - Characters

Character-descriptions are a lot harder to pull off than scene-descriptions. Because it’s really confusing to know when to describe them, their clothing, their appearances, and what to tell and what not to.

For characters, you can give a full description of their looks. Keep it concise and clear, so that your readers can get a pretty good idea of the character with so few words that they don’t notice you’ve stopped action for a while.

Or can show your narrator scanning the character, and what they noticed about them.

Both these two tricks only work when a character is shown first time to the readers. After that, you don’t really talk about their clothing or face anymore.

Until there’s something out of the ordinary about your character.

What do I mean by that? See, you’ve described the face and clothes of the character, and the next time they appear, the reader is gonna imagine the character in a similar set of clothes, with the same face and appearance that they had the first time. Therefore, any time other than the first, you don’t go into detail about the character again. But, if something about your character is out of ordinary—there are bruises on their face, scars, or a change in the way they dress—describe it to the reader. That’s because your narrator may notice these little changes.

***

#05 - Clothing

Clothing is a special case. Some new authors describe the clothes of the characters when they’re describing the character every time the reader sees them. So, I wanna help you with this.

Clothing can be a way to show something about your character—a character with a well-ironed business suit is gonna be different from a character with tight jeans and baggy t-shirt. Therefore, only use clothing to tell something unique about the character.

Refrain from describing the clothing of characters that dress like most others. Like, in a school, it’s obvious that all characters are wearing school uniforms. Also, a normal teenage boy may wear t-shirts and denim jeans. If your character is this, no need to describe their clothing—anything the reader would be imagining is fine.

Refrain from describing the clothing of one-dimensional side-characters—there’s a high chance you’ve not really created them well enough that they have clothing that differs from the expectations of the readers. We all know what waiters wear, or what a college guy who was just passing by in the scene would be wearing.

You may describe the clothing of the important character in the story, but only in the first appearance. After that, describe their clothes only if the clothes seem really, really different from the first time. And stop describing their clothes if you’ve set your character well enough in the story that your readers know what to expect from them in normal circumstances—then, describe clothes only when they’re really, really different from their usual forms of clothing.

***

#06 - Conclusion

I think there was so much I had to say in this article, but I didn’t do a good job. However, I said all that I wanted to say. I hope you guys liked the article and it helps you in one way or the other.

And please subscribe if you want more articles like this straight in your inbox!

[chalkscene]

tokyo revengers ⇢ YOU’RE TOO DRUNK TO RECOGNIZE YOUR BOYFRIEND

ft. manjiro “mikey” sano, ken “draken” ryuguji, keisuke baji, takashi mitsuya, rindou haitani, ran haitani & shuji hanma

warnings: alcohol and a very hammered reader. the boys are more responsible than you <3

this is one of the rare occurrences wherein MIKEY actually shares his food. when you’ve finally given up on fighting him for the last bottle of alcohol, you start whining about your sudden hunger so he slides his plate of nachos over to you. he watches you eye it for a second before you drag your gaze up to him. “i have a boyfriend you know?” you tell him, your attempt to be menacing coming out pathetically as the attitude dripping from your tone is dampened by your slurred speech. mikey doesn’t need the club to be well lit. the strobe lights already illuminate your face enough for him to get a clear view of your glassy eyes and flushed cheeks. “i know,” he confirms with a tinge of exasperation, “because it’s me. mikey. your boyfriend.” he emphasizes his last words, his last effort to knock some sense into you but you only let out a cackle which catches him off guard. “nice try but mikey never shares his food.”

“that’s enough.” DRAKEN snatches the last of your many drinks for the night before you can gulp it down. being the perceptive boyfriend he is, he can already hear the complaint that’s about to slip from your tongue so he’s quick to pull you by the wrist, up from your seat and out the door. “where are you taking me?” you ask as clearly as your drunken state can let you—not so much but enough for your boyfriend to understand. “home.” at his curt reply, you yank your hand from his grip with a strength that startles even toman’s former vice president. “what the hell are you doing?” draken hisses lest you make a scene in public. “i’m calling my boyfriend,” you warn him, “bet he can kick your ass.” “yeah? i’d like to see him try.” he dismisses your empty threat, reaching for you once more to guide you to the exit but upon hearing a few whispers from prying strangers who are clearly getting the wrong idea, he stops in his tracks and turns to no one in particular, no longer caring about whatever commotion he may cause as his voice booms over the loud music: “i’m the boyfriend!”

“let me go!” you relentlessly thrash around, yelling out threats of calling your boyfriend, while BAJI—the boyfriend in question—pulls you into an empty alleyway to avoid any possible public humiliation for the both of you. “fuck,” he huffs out a breath, “when did you get this strong?” some time in the night, he’s tuned you out telling him off, on a sole mission to stop you from drinking more than you already have. and he’s relieved he managed to get you out of the bar—that is until he hears a weird noise coming from you. “wh-” baji doesn’t get the chance to utter a single word as you begin to throw up. in a panic, he hastily puts your hair up with his spare tie before rubbing soothing circles on your back. your hair looks real messy, he notes, but that’s the least of his worries. “you feeling better?” he checks on you after a while, only to be met by more retching, making him grumble to himself, “and i get an earful when i drink too much.”

MITSUYA is helping you get on your feet—sweet boyfriend he is—but as soon as you find your footing, you give him a hefty shove. “i have a boyfriend, jackass!” you seethe, too drunk to recognize him, and all he can do is sigh as he regains his balance. “yes. me.” something clicks in your brain at his response and you squint your eyes to get a better look at him. “takashi?” “hi, love.” and just like that, you perk up, your mouth stretching into a wide grin. “taka,” you squeal, excitement coursing through your veins when you recognize your boyfriend, “hiiiii~” he laughs at the shift in your tone and takes the opportunity to slide an arm around your waist once more. “let’s get you home okay?” “mhm.” you wrap your arms around him and he lifts you with ease. mitsuya assumes you’re fast asleep until a few minutes later, you mumble something against his skin, “someone tried to flirt with me but i said no.” a chuckle bubbles past his lips as he adjusts his hold on you. “really?” “mhm,” you nod into his neck as you snuggle closer, “i only love you.” “i love you more.” “love you most,” you reply before soft snores fall from your lips and your breathing evens out.

you’re rambling about RINDOU to rindou himself, going on and on about the reasons that made you fall in love with him. and while you’re occasionally interrupted by your hiccups, he patiently listens to your every word then he hears a “but.” the ways you describe him next are less flattering, less romantic—how he tries so hard to act indifferent to your cooing as if the tips of his ears don’t instantly turn red. or how he has a permanent scowl etched on his face. and other things you already tell him even when you’re sober. “he’s really lucky he doesn’t have any wrinkles yet,” you add with a giggle. “you’re really annoying when you’re drunk, you know that?” rindou deadpans. despite the lack of lighting in the club, he doesn’t miss the shock washing over you, your eyes getting mistier by the second. “what?” your voice comes out shaky and your bottom lip starts to wobble, making rindou release another groan. “for fuck’s sake.”

in spite of your insistence to stay at the club, RAN easily managed to drag you to his car. this isn’t his first rodeo. as an older brother, he has had to deal with rindou when he was blackout drunk. “where are we going?” you mumble as you begin to stir in the passenger seat. “home.” “i wanna see ran.” your boyfriend throws you a quick glance—your eyes remain closed and the rest of your words are incomprehensible—before he focuses back on the road. amused by your drunken state, he plays along. “alright, we’re going to ran.” the stretch of silence that follows is cut short when you speak again, “i’m thirsty.” so ran makes a quick stop at a convenience store, coming back shortly with a bottle in hand. he unscrews the cap before he gives you the drink, “careful.” you take a big gulp, instantly grimacing at the taste and it elicits a snort from your boyfriend. “what is this?” “water.”

“want more,” you slur. across from you, HANMA watches as you clumsily reach for the empty shot glasses on the table, flipping them upside down as if more alcohol will magically appear. he’s not going to lie—he finds it funny. entertaining, even. and if the circumstances were any different, he would’ve even encouraged this behavior. but he’s your boyfriend now and if there’s one thing he truly cares about, it’s you. drunk out of your wits, you don’t notice when hanma slides out of the booth until he’s soon presenting two more glasses to you. even though the contents are the same, he asks you to choose, “which one?” “hmm… that.” before you can get your hands on your drink, hanma intercepts and downs it in one go. you’re about to protest when he throws you over his shoulder and chugs the other drink out of your sight before heading for the exit. “let’s go.”

[sanjisblackasswife]

JJK Men with a GF with a Fat Ass (NSFW-ISH)

…I’m taking a small break from drawing and I missed doing HCs. Shaddap.

Ft. Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Toji, Choso

Black ! Fem Reader in Mind

CW: Twt Links!, mentions of sex, men are a bit OOC

Gojo

Gojo definitely does this to you anytime you lay on his lap. And if he finds out you’re not wearing any panties under it…welp..all plans are now cancelled

He’s a pervert and it’s your fault.

He’s never really seen women of your stature often so when you both were younger he was so BLUNT with his thoughts about your body.

“You have a very voluptuous—“

“Imma stop you right there….VO-WHO?”

“You don’t know what the word vo—-“

“No, I know. I’m confused as to why you are using that word when talking about my ass.”

Gojo is 6’6-7” , he’s a big nigga, but can he handle a big behind?

No.

No he cannot.

He constantly uses his blindfolded eyes to shamelessly watch the way your walk across the room in public. His poker face is actually impressive, but if you couldn’t see how tight his fist were in his pockets it’d prove otherwise.

He’s so got damn childish he does this shit sometimes because he thinks your ass is perfect for playing on

“CAN YOU STOP.”

“Whhhyyyyuuuhhhhhh.”

When you wear moomoo’s or a big shirt it is his favorite

Yup.

Moomoo.

Your ass is free to move and shake to its desire and he just watches in awe. He loves you bad.

Another thing he loves doing is napping on your butt, he doesn’t sleep often, unfortunately, but he can attest that the best nap he has ever taken was in between your plush thighs and ass.

He blames his pretty little girlfriend as to why he is now an ass man when he initially was a boob guy.

Geto

He takes these kinda pictures with you which sometimes leads to him pulling down your underpants and massaging it with his bare hands to then licking or kissing it to then…eating…you…out…while you’re standing.

He loves watching you put on clothes.

Having to shake, jump, and wiggle yourself into some pants is actually so sexy to him.

If your butt is anything like mine and is HEAVY. He LOVES it even more , watching the way the movement in your butt and thighs to match is something Geto finds so so mesmerizing.

One thing about Geto he’s very sneaky, he’ll come up behind you to help pull up your bottoms you clearly need no help putting on, and everytime he does you can feel a slight pressure on your ass that is a verrrryyy familiar feel to a bulge.

He can’t help it, your ass is so pretty.

Sitting on his lap is a must, whether he is talking with someone in public or doing some work he needs to feel your weight on him.

The first time you sat on his lap you swore you heard a groan. When you turned to ask him if he was okay, his cheeks were very pink.

He denies it to this day, but even if he did it’s your fault because why does your ass feel so good against his pelvis?

Showers with Geto are so insufferable in the best way because once you finish cleaning yourself your long haired boyfriend can’t wait to practically grind and hump against you into the cool shower wall.

He definitely loves hugging you from behind, swaying you back and forth. To others it’s a cute gesture seeing such a big man hold you so close, practically dwarfing you , only you and him know the real intention behind it was just him whispering how good you look in that dress and how badly he wants you.

Geto is such a sensual person next to nanami. Even after sex and you’re laying with him in a bliss he finds his way to continue his love by kissing and licking you down and praises of how beautiful and sexy you are even after such activities. He calls it “Cleaning you up”…little perv.

“‘Was wrong?… Embarrassed?”

“YES.”

“Good, now c’mere.”

Toji

Ass eater.🫵🏾

That’s an ass eater he eat ass🫵🏾.

Toji “Ass Eater” Fushiguro

You thought gojo was shameless? Toji is WORSE

As an ass connoisseur he prides himself on always reminding you how fine you are to him.

“You like my dress?”

“Hell yes, mama. Turn around for me.”

SWAT to the ass just to see it recoil

He definitely slaps and GRABS. It’s kinda hot though because he’ll do it anytime anywhere

For example you went with him to some horse racing game for him to make bets and got hungry so you headed to grab a few drinks and snacks. Before walking past him, his legs were spread, tooth pick in his mouth and just like clock work you feel a firm hit to your Jean covered behind.

“OOWWUH!”

“Sssh, Baby im watchin the game….what? Your ass was all in my face what else could I do?”

Whether you are a chunky girl or a skinny girl with a larger butt he don’t care he quite actually is your biggest fan.

Toji is your new seat btw.

Not just his pretty face but his lap too.

He’s a big strong man so don’t EVER think or assume you’re too heavy for him. It ACTUALLY wounds his ego more than you think.

Of course Toji being the ass eater he is almost every other night is spent just like this or sitting on his face. He never seen himself as a pleasure dom kinda guy. With his one night stands he only had sex for himself, but with you of course being the first woman he finally got to love after MamaGuro he takes his time with you. It’s a slutty sight but he knows it’s exactly what can get you off before him

Nanami

This man here.

A KING.

Freaky king but a king none the less.

He loves every part of you.

Which is what he does say and prove everytime you both are together but he does have a small little quirk about him that you aren’t sure whether or not to point it out in fear he may stop out of embarrassment or awareness.

Most men guide their woman by putting their hand on their lower back

Nanami however does this

ESPECIALLY on date night.

Just like Geto he loves to watch you dress, but also dresses you himself

“Wear this, yes? It compliments your skin beautifully.”

“You sure it’s not, because it’s a bit tighter below the waist?”

And now hes blushing.

He’ll admit. Whenever you come and visit him during lunch to feed him a home cooked meal he hates to see you go but LOVES to watch you leave.

Especially with that sundress you wear during the spring.

Nanami definitely is another man that will practically BEG for you to sit on his face.

“It’s okay, baby, honest. Use my face.”

“Kentoooo—!??”

One of his favorite ways to eat you out is like this. It was actually so embarrassing for you at first only because of his SLUTTY MOANS. Which was something you wouldn’t expect from a man like him, but you wasn’t complaining!He whined and whimpered so shamelessly inside you, you couldn’t even make eyes contact after cumming on his tongue.

Choso

Lord bless him.

He is very….confused to say the least.

He never understood the attraction of women’s parts.

Of course he found YOU attractive, but that was all over until he seen your shape.

“Oh.”

“…oh?”

“You—“

You usually wore baggy clothing like him. You decided to change really quickly at his new apartment and he was watching you.

Who knew you had a BODY LIKE THAT under all of those clothes!

“You’re sex—cute…”

Choso isn’t necessarily a shy man, but more hesitant when it comes to touching and complimenting you…

You’ve told him time and time again he is free to touch you when he wants but you sometimes have to guide him.

Usually when he wants to grab your ass he walks DANGEROUSLY close behind you.

So a few times you take his hand and place it on your cheek. For a moment he just rubs his hand across the soft skin and then SQUEEZE.

Choso loves to kneed and rub on your ass while he licks you so usually it’s 69 or you laid to your side.

Another things he actually loves seeing you in are sweats with a small top. Your lower body being heavier than the top is so attractive and you look so squeezable he can’t help but to hug you from behind

Please. Please PUH LEASE wear thigh high socks around him the ones that go RIGHT UNDER the cup of your ass and shake it JUST A LIL in front of him.

Moans at the sight everytime

No like literally MOANS by just looking at your ass jiggle.

He doesn’t think he’s a pervert but from how he grinds and hump against your ass while you sleep says otherwise.

If yall are wondering why I didn’t really speak on backshots it js because ALL OF THEM GO FERAL DOING IT.