#curly hair japanese

[dykefish]

pd doodles part THREE, starring ashe and dakota

[cuntyyellowpikmin]

(Related to an upcoming long post)

Yall think Erma Shepherd would try a weave and get one as the same color as her hair but then get it removed after 4 days cuz it was too itchy to wear? I actually need to draw a comic of homegirl with a weave and then realizing it’s high maintenance

[mangopit]

am i tripping or am i seeing more youtubers change their thumbnails and video titles a few hours after uploading?

like it's not uncommon to see ppl use more clickbaity fake-drama video titles for algorithmic reasons, but lately and more specifically i've been seeing these L.A. youtubers upload videos with titles that are more... abrasive and somewhat problematic lol? and then some hours later it'll be updated to have more PC language. like either these major channels are suddenly forgetting how to not offend people or they're employing the "get clicks by being a certain acceptable amount of incorrect and reasonably mistaken" and it's leaving a bad taste in my mouth

[tomatoliciousheya]

[br1ghtestlight]

i think the belchers are canonically white?? just judging based off their family history (specifically linda's but also bob's mom maybe) but i like the headcanon that they're half japanese it just makes sense in my head. like why are they the only white people with black hair on this gd show Also they're definitely 100% jewish they dont celebrate religious holidays or anything and they celebrate culturally christian holidays like christmas bcuz its just easier for everyone but like definitely jewish ancestry (esp bob's mom im not explaining this trust me) also makes sense bcuz jewish people tend to have darker/curlier hair than other white ethnic groups

[nakakabaliw]

check out my mouthwashing hcs : ] artist notes and explanation under the cut!!!

JIMMY - I found most of their last names in the mouthwashing reddit and as I searched up the surname Zare, it seemed to be of Iranian origin, hence why he's Iranian American to me. I like to think he was already pale and sickly looking before but during the game events he just looks. Worse. DAISUKE- Juarez is fairly a Filipino/Mexican name but I'm sticking with Filipino purely bc i believe he can do the budots. Anywho, I took his Early skintone from the official emojis in the steam page and tried to incorporate the ingame skintone with it, mixing it up a little so hes not completely washed out. ANYA- Im biased when doing her nationality HC bc ive been learning french and I learned from reddit that her last name is Japanese so thats interesting : ] now I think she and Daisuke have something to bond over at least. Anywho, I like to believe she has her particular style of makeup, and she used to have foundation that wouldve made her skin brighter bc shes really pale. Her ingame skintone is even paler than her usual bc of no sun. Also yes, she looks worse bc of fatigue bc i can only imagine the struggle and sleepless nights patching curly up. Shes still very beautiful though!!!! SWANSEA- Nothing much to write home about, just regular signs of aging, searching up his name on google (his name is a welsh town apparently), but his card shows a broken nose! Or maybe its the way the card is bent. I love to believe the former. CURLY - So we dont have a Curly ID so I made my own, freshly promoted Curly. His hair changing is a reference to my hair changing (im also blonde) and bc i think hes p neat so he has that. Hes Canadian British bc hes the whitest white man you can ever white. Maybe a sprinkle of irish but thats it. like 9% Irish from his mother's side or something. His curls stopped curling curling because I doubt he'd have too much time worrying abt them atp when the ship atmosphere fucks it up anyways.

[thethera-rossa]

[tokyorandomengrishshirts]

How many times can they spell Olaplex wrong?

Charging customers almost $200 for a haircut and Olaplex treatment, and can’t even spell the damn name right 🙄

[writingwithcolor]

A Careful Balance: Portraying a Black Character's Relationship with their Hair

@writingraccoon said:

My character is black in a dungeons and dragons-like fantasy world. His name is Kazuki Haile (pronounced hay-lee), and his mother is this world's equivalent of Japanese, which is where his first name is from, while his father is this world's equivalent of Ethiopian, which is where his last name is from. He looks much more like his father, and has hair type 4a. I plan to make his character very finnicky about his hair, both enjoying styling it, but also often being unsure how to style it (not in that he doesn't know how to, but has so many options for how to style it, he has trouble choosing). However, I know that there are some very harmful ways to write black hair, especially in regards to how the black character themselves feels about it. Kazuki does not hate his hair, in fact he takes joy in it, and I'm researching black hair and hair styles to be as accurate as possible. But I'm unsure if portraying a black character as occasionally overwhelmed by or vain about his hair is negative. How would you suggest either changing this or making it work? Does it need to be changed in the first place?

Black Character Overwhelmed by Curly Afro Hair

Your Black character wanting his hair to look its best and at times feeling overwhelmed seems reasonable and natural to me. It appears their challenge comes with how to style it. Not so much with struggling how it looks or how hard it is to manage. That is good, as this further helps avoid placing a strong negative focus on Black hair. 

Him caring a lot about how it is style should not be deemed vain or frivolous, either. In any case, hair care is self care. There’s nothing wrong with having pride with your hair, especially hair that mainstream society, historically and present, might say is not beautiful. This still matters, even in a fantasy world, since your readers still exist in this reality. It’s empowering and a welcome change to see someone who loves their afro hair, actually.

There are unique factors someone with coily afro hair would experience vs. straight, wavy, or looser curls, but people struggling with their hair (too frizzy, too flat, too limp, too thin, too thick!) is universal. 

There is a delicate balance to achieve.

Avoid Writing a Black Hair Journey Experience 

An overall negative Afro hair journey might be the reality for many, especially when society deems Afro hair as unacceptable and slaps so many uninvited opinions, laws and policies over its existence and on certain styles (again, historically and very much at present), but that’s the kind of story that is best handled by someone with the background. Someone willing to commit to the research might also be able to pull it off, although it’s truly not the kind of thing an escapism novel needs in my opinion. If the story is not meant to delve into “A Black /Black Hair Experience” then I'd avoid going that route. That is moving a bit towards a struggle narrative, depending on how much it defines your character’s story.

Add positive and neutral hair language and interactions

For your writing, I’d avoid using unchallenged negative language about his hair. Being overwhelmed at times and frustrated is one thing and expected. If his hair is constantly brought up, and is associated with uncontrollable, ugly, or too [insert struggle here], then rethink the direction you’re going. 

Add some positive or neutral terms, reactions, and interactions in the narrative towards afro hair, such as describing color and texture.

“His fine coils bounced in the wind.” 

“Hair black and shiny” 

“She wore her hair in two large, fluffy buns.”

“He admired his fresh, neat braids in the mirror, smiling at his reflection, before turning to leave.”

Another tip: It may have been for research purposes, but leave out any hair number categorizing in the story and rely on description. I’d say this goes for any story, as reading the number would feel off. 

“He had coily 4a hair.” Nahh! :P 

Also, I would suggest sending all passages that focus on his hair to a Black sensitivity reader for review.

More reading:

~Mod Colette

[esrah-rah-rasputin]

[ID: “Help others and get a custom icon!” written in red and green text, with the Palestinian flag in each corner. /End ID]

@najahmeq2 needs funds for winter clothes for her children, please help her get what she needs (donate here)! As a bonus, for whatever amount is donated, I’ll put it towards a FREE art commission! The more money, the more detail and time I can spend on the art. Please help this mother care for her children, and free Palestine 🇵🇸

Here’s the kind of art you can expect from a 5-10$ donation, and a 40-60$ donation:

[ID: The first is cartoony icon art of a Black pigtailed girl wearing pink, winking and sticking her tongue out, and holding up the peace sign. The second is semi realistic, two toned illustration art of a couple in their forties kissing. The background is in pink and the people are colored in purple-blue. They are a Hispanic woman with curly hair, and a Japanese man with short hair and a shy expression. /End ID]

[anton-luvr]

Heyy could u do a fic where boyfriend!Anton makes out with fem!reader for the first time and is really shy but likes it and doesn’t want to stop, like really sweet and a little suggestive 🥹💖Tyy

# FOREVER.

𖦹 bf!anton x fem!reader | fluff & suggestive | college au 𖦹 note ; THIS IS SUCH A CUTE IDEA ARGHH thank u anon i hope u like this + reqs are open!

You love being close to Anton.

You love how soft his hands feel in yours; you love the way his eyes sparkle when he looks at you; and you love how gently he kisses your forehead each time he says goodbye.

The evening had started out as usual: going back to your place after classes, Japanese takeaway for dinner, and an episode of your favorite sitcom, The Office.

But you could tell something was on Anton’s mind tonight. He seemed nervous, and he kept spacing out.

“Is everything okay?” You asked softly, concern evident in your tone. Anton immediately nods, flashing you a shy smile. “Yeah, just thinking about something," he mumbles.

You raise an eyebrow.

“Do you wanna talk about it? You can tell me anything.”

He bites his bottom lip nervously at this, glancing hesitantly at you.

“Anything?” he echoed.

"Anything." you repeated, squeezing his hand in reassurance.

The curly haired boy lets out a sigh, burying his face in his hands and groaning a small, “This is so embarrassing.”

“But you won’t laugh at me, right?” He asks. You chuckle at this, shrugging. “I’ll try my best.”

Anton nods, slowly scooting closer to you on the bed. “So. I was wondering if we could... m-make out?”

Now, you love your boyfriend, but the moment you heard his question, you couldn’t help but burst into laughter.

“Hey, you said you wouldn’t laugh!” he splutters, his face burning a crimson red.

“I’m sorry!” You gasped, still laughing.

“I just wanted to ask because I’ve never done it before, but I also want to kiss you, but then again I didn’t know how to bring it up, and I-”

“Sure,” you giggled, cutting his rambling off and softly pushing him down on the bed.

“We can definitely make out.”

Anton’s heart was already racing a mile a minute, but the moment your lips connect, he feels like his heart could jump right out of his chest.

His eyes fall shut, and all he can feel is how right and how good it feels.

Your soft vanilla-flavoured lips against his, a shudder running through his body when you slip your tongue against his.

“Is that okay?” you whisper, slightly breathless. Anton nods readily, biting his tongue to hold back a whimper.

“Y-Yeah, keep going." he stutters.

He groans when your lips meet his again, his hands now under your shirt and caressing your waist.

Like puzzle pieces, your lips fit against each other perfectly.

Your bedroom fills with the sound of soft and airy moans, and Anton wonders why he waited so long to do this with you.

When you finally pull away from each other, you wish you could take a picture of how gorgeous your boyfriend looked.

His black unruly hair messy from your hands running through them, his lips swollen as he catches his breath, and his cheeks dusted a light pink.

“God, you look so pretty." you sigh.

He shakes his head as he tries to pull you back. “Don’t care, I wanna keep kissing you.” he mutters, drunk on the feeling.

You place your hand against his chest, stopping him. “If we keep kissing, you’re going to end up home by midnight.” you chuckle.

To your surprise, Anton tugs at you again. “Really don’t care,” he mumbles against your lips. “Wanna kiss you forever, s'feel too good.”

Your heart flutters at his words, smiling into the kiss.

“I’ll kiss you forever."

© anton-luvr, 2023.

[wylanvaneckreal]

DAISUKE HEADCANONS!!!!

These are super silly things that I randomly thought about while tweaking at 4 am so why not!

• I headcanon that Daisuke has curly hair, like CURLY hair, and he hates it SO much. So he religiously flat irons his hair. Lil bros hair is fried so bad

• The only time he would actually keep and wear his hair natural is for big events. Like weddings, family gathers and stuff like that

• Also I think he would be Hispanic and Japanese. (I hc that his dad is Hawaiian/Hispanic, and his mom is Japanese, plus his name being Japanese😼)

• man's is dyslexic as hell🙏 he can NOT spell for the life of him, and can barely read 💀🙌

• He 100% has a roblox account. You can't tell me otherwise. He plays Dti and Baddies TRUST

• Bro doesn't own a single pair of matching socks🙏 also I feel like he's the kinda guy to wear the same socks for like 6 weeks

• He has really "weird" fears. Like pinecones, if bro sees a pinecone, he's screaming on the top of his lungs

• Totally has "Gen Z/ Gen Alpha" humor, says rizz 24/7

• He LOVES cartoons. Like he would watch mlp every night and cry over the last episode

WELL THOSE ARE SOME OF MY SILLY LITTLE HEADCANONS FOR OUR LITTLE SILLY FELLA 🤍

[ch6sos]

a/n: this is mainly for black gender neutral readers or those with coily/curly hair but anyone can read :)

Whenever Kento wants to learn something new, he devotes his entire time to it. No, seriously. People around him often ask how he manages to master so many skills, or they gape in awe when they see him in action, because it always looks like he’s a natural. But the truth is, Kento practices—endlessly.

Take cooking, for example. He wasn’t always good at it. His parents were the first to teach him about the importance of basic household skills—especially cooking. They told him, "If you want to survive in the real world, you need to know how to take care of yourself, and cooking is essential."

But his first attempts weren’t smooth at all. He didn’t master stegt flæsk on the first try, nor could he bake the perfect rye bread, or make udon from scratch. In fact, when he first attempted cooking, even the boxed mac and cheese stuck to the pan.

Frustrated but determined, Kento began watching his family closely. He'd observe his mother in the kitchen, occasionally passing her ingredients or awkwardly chopping vegetables. He read cookbooks, borrowed recipes from his grandmother—learning both Japanese and Danish dishes, and followed each step carefully—getting the right ingredients, measurements, and temperatures just right.

That’s how Kento approached every skill he became interested in—whether it was fencing, archery, learning to play the violin, or pottery. He would buy all the necessary equipment, immerse himself in content about it, and fixate on it until he was satisfied with his skill level—like a Sim locked into a single task.

So, when Kento started dating someone with coily hair, he applied the same method.

He noticed how much time they spent on their hair—the hours dedicated to braiding, curling, and washing. He wasn’t the type of partner to just sit back and watch, especially when they were feeling tired.

He went into research mode: watching videos, reading articles, and practicing. Whenever he had time off from work, he’d be on his couch, blue light glasses perched on his nose, eyes glued to YouTube tutorials explaining how to care for coily hair—the products to use, the best protective hairstyles, and the time required for proper maintenance.

He’d search on his Samsung, scrolling through article after article written by people with coily hair, trying to understand how he could help make their routine a bit easier.

One day, his partner caught him with a mannequin head in his lap, his legs crossed on the couch, glasses slipping down his nose, fingers moving as he tried to braid from the scalp down. His brows were furrowed in concentration, teeth gnawing on his bottom lip.

“Kento, what are you doing?” they chuckled, glancing at the mannequin on his lap.

He let out a small huff, not annoyed but a little sheepish. “I’m trying to learn how to braid, or at least take care of hair.”

They laughed softly, seeing his frustration as he undid yet another braid that wasn’t quite right. “Why don’t you practice on me?”

“I don’t want to ruin your hair,” he replied, frowning as he started over again, still a bit clumsy but improving.

“I’ll teach you,” they offered, amusement in their voice, touched by how much he wanted to get it right.

Kento’s eyes lit up in excitement, as if he’d forgotten that watching them take care of their own hair was the best lesson he could get. "That’d be great," he said with a lazy grin, pushing his glasses up.

For the next few weeks, they taught him everything—how they followed their daily hair routine, how they carefully braided and styled their hair, and how long it took to recreate certain looks. Kento watched intently, always hesitating before touching their hair, afraid he might mess something up. But with gentle encouragement, he grew more confident.

Eventually, he learned enough to help out. On days when they were tired, Kento would sit them down, placing pillows beneath them, and take over. He’d part their hair with a comb, splitting it into neat sections, his hands gentle as he worked, always mindful not to tug too hard. They’d both watch a silly reality show on TV while he braided or styled their hair.

He even learned how to wash it delicately, stepping into the shower with them to help massage their scalp and rinse out the conditioner. He bought the right products, ensuring they always had what they needed. Sometimes, he’d try new hairstyles on them—ones even they hadn’t thought of—just to keep things interesting.

For Kento, it wasn’t just about learning a new skill. He loved spending that quality time together, knowing that every effort he made to help them made a difference. And in those quiet, intimate moments, he felt truly happy.

[w0rm-3nthus14st]

i love kidswap designs heres strilonde swap

in case my handwriting is just that unreadable (plus some extra notes i didnt write):

dave lalonde - seer of time - hair is better cared for, so it's more curly! - wears heart shades before john gives him the stiller ones - his t-shirt symbol remains unscratched, since there's no strifing with bro.. - i realize i never decided on his weapon, perhaps an umbrella or something? according to some sources, theyre effective impaling instruments... rose strider - knight of light - she slicks her hair with gel, like dirk would - she wears an ironically defaced squiddle shirt - the ink of the eyes bleed post-grimdark, just cause i think itd be neat to have her shirt symbol change like dave's does originally - she dual wields kaiken at first instead of needles, which are short japanese swords, since bro is a weeb nerd!! i do have some ideas for jade and john being swapped, not sure whether or not i'll draw them though.. we will wait and see.

[emjayewrites]

Sakura Dreams 🌸 🇯🇵 🗼Jules Kounde (1/6)

SYNOPSIS: It was supposed to be a guys trip to Japan after a disappointing ending to Euros, however, fate had another thing in mind.

PAIRINGS: Jules Koundé x fem!blackOC (Ayo Pratt) (faceclaim joie.ade)

WARNINGS: cursing, poor google translations, football b.s & drama, flirty!jules, eventual smut. MINORS DNI!!!

TAGLIST: @hopefulromantic1 @lettersofgold @sinflowersugar @mauvecherie-writes @queenshikongo3 @perfecttrashface @alika-4466 @cocobutterqwueen @peyiswriting @that-90s-girllll @leilaxaliel @serpenttines-library @certifiedlesbianbaddie @niahxo @julescpu @jack0357 @chaoticcoffeequeen @greedyjudge2 @yeea-nah @saturnville @taytropicana @trentswrld @cranberryjulce @vile-harlot @2serenity0

A/N: Jules is in Japan, so of course I had to make a short series about it. Also, if you're a Jules girl, please let me know and I'll tag you in more chapters.

Read Part 2

The humid air of Tokyo hit Jules like a wall as he stepped off the plane, his muscles aching from the 13-hour flight. Narita International Airport buzzed with activity, a cacophony of announcements in Japanese and English filling the air. Jules popped a cherry dum dum in his mouth, the sweet flavor a small comfort as he trudged alongside his friends Wilhelm, AK, and his half-brother Nicholas towards baggage claim, navigating through the sea of travelers.

"Yo, ce décalage horaire n'est pas une blague (Yo, this jet lag is no joke)," Nicholas grumbled, rubbing his eyes.

"C’est vrai (Facts)," Wilhelm agreed, stifling a yawn.

As they collected their luggage and made their way to the hotel shuttle, Jules couldn't help but feel a twinge of excitement beneath the exhaustion. This trip was meant to be a distraction, a way to shake off the disappointment of the Euros and clear his head before the upcoming season with FC Barcelona.

The thought of training camp loomed in the back of his mind. Jules silently prayed for an injury-free season, where he could continue to prove himself and silence the doubters. But for now, he pushed those worries aside. It was time to live in the moment.

The shuttle wound its way through Tokyo's neon-lit streets, skyscrapers towering above them. Jules pressed his forehead against the cool window, watching as businessmen in crisp suits hurried past izakayas and pachinko parlors. The city was a mesmerizing blend of tradition and modernity, and Jules found himself eager to explore.

"Tu penses qu'on aura le temps de visiter les temples? (Do you think we'll have time to visit the temples?)," AK asked, his eyes wide as he took in the city.

"Bien sûr (Of course)," Jules replied. "Nous avons deux semaines (We have two weeks)."

Their hotel, a gleaming high-rise in the trendy Shibuya district, loomed before them. The lobby was a vision of minimalist luxury, all sleek lines and soft lighting. As they approached the check-in counter, dragging their suitcases behind them, Jules's attention was immediately captured by a group of women ahead of them in line.

"Merde (Fuck)," he muttered under his breath, the dum dum stick moving to the corner of his mouth.

There were four of them, all stunning in their own right. But one, in particular, caught his eye. She was fine as hell, with curves that reminded him of Pam Grier in her prime, and her skin was a deep, rich cocoa. Jules's eyes traveled up to her full, pouty lips, currently curved in laughter at something her friend had said. She wore her natural hair in two perfect puffs, giving her this effortless 90s vibe that he found irresistible.

Once the girls finished checking in, Jules couldn't help but notice the others as well. One rocked long braids that cascaded down her back, another sported a short curly style with faded sides that highlighted her cheekbones, and the third had a blonde weave that caught the light as she moved.

"Ce sont tous fraîches (They're all baddies)," AK whispered, nudging Jules.

Jules nodded, his eyes still fixed on the girl with the puffs. There was something about her, an energy that drew him in. As the group of women headed towards the elevators, she turned, and their eyes met. She flashed him a bright smile that made his heart skip a beat, just as the elevator doors closed.

"Jules!" Wilhelm's voice snapped him out of his trance.

"Hein? Quoi? (Huh? What?)"

Wilhelm rolled his eyes. "Ton passeport, mec. La réceptionniste en a besoin (Your passport, man. The receptionist needs it)."

"Ah, oui, bien sûr (Oh, yeah, of course)." Jules fumbled for his passport, his mind still on the mystery girl's smile.

They checked in, and Jules couldn't shake the feeling that this trip might turn out to be more interesting than he'd anticipated.

"On est à quel étage? (What floor are we on?)" Wilhelm asked as they headed to the elevators.

"Le quinzième (Fifteenth)," Nicholas replied, studying the key cards.

As the elevator doors closed, Jules found himself hoping he'd run into the girl with the puffs again. Tokyo was a big city, but stranger things had happened. With a grin, he chewed on the dum dum in his mouth. This vacation was already looking up.

Ayo stepped into the luxurious suite, her eyes widening as she took in the panoramic view of Tokyo's skyline through floor-to-ceiling windows. The city sprawled before them, a mesmerizing tapestry of lights against the darkening sky.

"Damn, this is bougie as hell!" Nikki exclaimed, her long braids swinging as she spun around the spacious living area.

Gigi ran her hand through her blonde weave as she glanced at the sleek furniture. "One Management really hooked us up."

"They better have," Nikki chimed in. "Our girl's about to take over the modeling world."

Ayo smiled modestly, still processing the whirlwind of the past few months. She had recently signed with One Management, a top-tier agency with offices across Europe, Asia, and the US. This trip to Tokyo was a gift from her friends and newest management team, a last hurrah before she moved from New York to London to further her blossoming career.

Symone, sporting a chic short hairstyle with faded sides, squeezed her shoulder. "After that Savage X Fenty show? Girl, the world is your oyster."

Ayo's recent success modeling for Rihanna's lingerie line had catapulted her into a new echelon of the fashion world. It was surreal, exciting, and more than a little terrifying.

"This trip is exactly what I needed before the big move," Ayo said, gratitude welling up in her chest as she looked at her friends. "Thank you guys, seriously."

Symone then made a beeline for the mini-bar. "Girls, we need to celebrate! Shots?"

Ayo chuckled, shaking her head. "Sy, it's barely 6 PM, and we're exhausted from the flight."

"Come on, just one!" Symone pleaded, already pulling out a bottle of Johnny Walker.

Gigi yawned dramatically. "Count me out. I need a nap before dinner."

"Same here," Nikki agreed. "What's the plan for food anyway?"

They quickly decided to eat at the hotel restaurant for their first night, too tired to venture out into the city just yet.

As Gigi and Nikki retreated to their rooms, Ayo found herself drawn back to the window. Her mind wandered to the cute guy with dreads she'd spotted in the lobby. There was something about him…

"Earth to Ayo!" Symone's voice snapped her out of her reverie. "Shot time, bitch!"

Ayo laughed, accepting the glass. "That's my girl," Symone grinned, sticking out her tongue.

They clinked glasses and downed the whiskey, the burn a welcome distraction from Ayo's jet lag. As they settled onto the plush couch, Symone's eyes welled up unexpectedly.

"Who would've thought four girls from Jersey would end up in Tokyo?" she mused, her voice thick with emotion.

Ayo nudged her playfully. "You say that every trip, SySy."

"Because it's true!" Symone insisted, pouring another round. "I'm just… I'm gonna miss you, you know?"

"Oh, SySy," Ayo crooned, wrapping her friend in a tight hug. "I'm gonna miss you too."

Symone sniffled, trying to lighten the mood. "You just had to go to boring-ass London, huh? Old 'God save the King' ass…"

Ayo rolled her eyes affectionately, well-versed in Symone's habit of using humor to deflect her true feelings. They chatted for a while longer, reminiscing about their journey from New Jersey to this moment.

Eventually, Symone yawned. "Alright, I need a power nap before dinner. Don't let me sleep too long!"

As Symone disappeared into her room, Ayo's phone buzzed. She sighed heavily when she saw the name: Jamaal. Her ex, who never seemed to get the hint. Without reading it, she deleted the text.

"Leave the past in the past," she murmured, taking one last shot. It was time to focus on her future – London, One Management, and all the possibilities that lay ahead.

With that thought, Ayo made her way to her bedroom. She barely registered the decor before collapsing face-first onto the plush bed, letting the exhaustion of travel and the warmth of whiskey lull her into a much-needed nap.

A couple of hours later, the girls emerged from their rooms, dressed for dinner at the hotel's restaurant. Ayo wore a sleek black slip dress that hugged her curves, paired with strappy heels. Symone rocked a vibrant yellow pantsuit that complemented her short, faded hairstyle. Gigi opted for a flowy floral maxi dress, her blonde weave styled in loose waves. Nikki chose a chic off-shoulder jumpsuit, her braids swept into an elegant updo.

As they approached the restaurant, they paused to admire its exterior. The design seamlessly blended modern aesthetics with traditional Japanese elements, creating an inviting atmosphere.

"We need a group selfie!" Symone declared excitedly.

Being the tallest, Ayo extended her arm to take the photos. They huddled together, striking poses and laughing. After a few attempts, they scrutinized the results, each finding something to critique.

"Let's try one more," Gigi suggested.

As Ayo prepared to take another shot, a slightly deep voice with a heavy accent called out, "Would you like me to take the photo instead?"

The girls turned towards the voice, and Ayo's breath caught in her throat. It was the guy from the lobby earlier. He was even more striking up close. His dreads were neatly styled, and he wore a Versace button-down with a few buttons undone, revealing a glimpse of his chest and a gold Cuban link chain. His feet were adorned with stylish huaraches. The scent of his cologne wafted over, a intoxicating mix of citrus and wood.

"Damn, he fine as fuck," Symone muttered, not quite under her breath.

The corners of his mouth quirked up, clearly having heard Symone's not-so-discreet comment.

"Sure," Ayo said softly, handing him her phone.

He instructed the girls on how to pose, squatting down to capture different angles. Ayo couldn't help but notice his friends behind him - all different shades of brown, with fresh haircuts and equally stylish outfits.

After taking several photos, he handed the phone back to Ayo with a smile. The girls crowded around, nodding in approval at the results.

"Are they good?" he asked.

"Yes, thank you," Ayo replied, trying to keep her voice steady.

He nodded and rejoined his friends, heading into the restaurant.

"Ooh! He was feeling you," Gigi drawled, fanning herself. "That is a man, Savannah!"

The others laughed in agreement.

"Girl, you neva lied!" Symone concurred. "He a sexy little croissant, huh?" she teased in a fake French accent.

Ayo shook her head, laughing despite herself.

"And he had them eyes for you, Ayo," Nikki added.

"What? No, he didn't," Ayo protested.

"Yes, he did," her friends chorused as they entered the restaurant.

They spotted the guys waiting on a bench as Ayo approached the maître d' to check in.

"Good evening, how many in your party?" the maître d' asked politely.

"Four, please," Ayo replied.

The maître d' checked the reservation list and frowned slightly. "I'm afraid there's a bit of a wait. We have a group of four ahead of you, and it will be about an hour and a half before we can seat you."

Ayo's eyes widened in shock. "An hour and a half?" she repeated, her voice rising slightly.

She turned back to her friends, who were waiting expectantly.

"Girls, we've got a problem," Ayo said, rejoining the group. "They're saying it's going to be a 90-minute wait."

"What?" Symone exclaimed. "Are you serious?"

Gigi groaned. "I'm starving already. I can't wait that long."

Nikki shook her head in disbelief. "There's got to be another option, right?"

One of the guys from the other group - dark-skinned with a faded low cut caesar and also sporting a French accent - approached them. "Would you like to get a table together?" he offered.

"Sure!" Symone replied, perhaps too eagerly.

The guy then went over to the maître d'. "Excuse me, do you have a table for eight available?"

The maître d' checked his list and nodded. "Yes, we do. Would you like to be seated now?"

"Oui," he replied with a smile.

The maître d' gathered menus and gestured for the group to follow. "Right this way, please."

As they walked, one of the guys – the one with dreads who had taken their photo – motioned to the girls. "After you, madames," he said with a slight bow and a charming smile.

The girls exchanged excited glances as they followed the maître d', with the guys trailing behind.

"Here we are," the maître d' announced, stopping at a large, circular table. "Your server will be with you shortly. Enjoy your meal."

As they settled into their seats, Ayo found herself next to the dreaded Adonis. Her heart skipped a beat as she caught another whiff of his intoxicating cologne.

"I hope you don't mind us crashing your dinner," he said softly, his accent making the words sound like music.

Ayo smiled, trying to keep her composure. "Not at all. Thanks for the save."

As the rest of the group got comfortable, Ayo silently prayed that her friends – especially Symone – wouldn't embarrass her too much during dinner. But judging by the mischievous glint in Symone's eye from across the table, Ayo knew she was in for an interesting evening.

The group settled in, perusing their menus in comfortable silence. After a few moments, the guy with the faded low cut caesar, spoke up.

"Maybe we should introduce ourselves properly. I'm AK," he said with a warm smile.

The tawny-toned guy with the tapered 'fro nodded. "Wilhelm."

"Nicholas," added the dark-skinned guy with the lowcut fade.

"And I'm Jules," said the cutie with the dreads next to Ayo.

The girls followed suit, each introducing themselves in turn.

As they finished, a waiter approached. "Good evening. May I take your drink order?"

Symone piped up immediately. "We'll have sake for the table, please!"

Half the girls groaned in unison. Nikki shot Symone a look. "Girl, are you trying to get us all fucked up?"

Symone pointed to herself innocently, while Gigi gave her a knowing look. The guys chuckled, exchanging comments in French.

Nikki glanced at each of them. "Hey, hey, none of that oui oui stuff, alright? English only."

Nicholas put up his hands in mock defense. "Damn, baby girl, we don't want no smoke."

Nikki gave him a flirtatious smile in response, and Ayo stared at Gigi in a silent plea to watch her cousin. Nikki was known for being a bit... frisky. If Symone was the loudmouth of the group, Nikki was the self-proclaimed "hoe" - and they meant that with all due respect.

The waiter continued taking orders. Jules requested a rum and coke, his accent making Ayo shiver slightly. She ordered a vodka, lime, and soda water.

Ayo felt Jules' arm rest at the back of her seat, his fingers lightly touching the exposed skin of her neck. "Is this okay?" he asked softly.

"Y-yeah, sure," she managed to reply.

As they waited for their drinks, the conversation flowed. The guys asked what brought the girls to Tokyo, and they explained Ayo's modeling career and celebrating her recent signing to a new management agency.

"Savage X Fenty? That's impressive," Wilhelm said. "Did you meet Rihanna?"

Ayo nodded. "Yeah, I met the whole fam, including A$AP Rocky and their two little ones. The kids are adorable, and Rihanna's really nice."

Nikki chimed in, "Rihanna even follows Ayo on Insta."

The guys' eyebrows raised in admiration.

Symone turned the question back on them. "What about you guys? What brings you to Tokyo?"

The men exchanged glances before AK answered, "It's a guys' trip before work makes us all busy again." They seemed reluctant to elaborate, and the girls didn't push further.

The waiter returned with their drinks, including a large bottle of sake. With practiced precision, he began the traditional sake pouring ceremony. He held the tokkuri (sake bottle) with both hands, turning it slightly as he poured into each person's ochoko (small sake cup). The liquid flowed smoothly, filling each cup precisely to the brim without spilling a drop.

As the waiter finished pouring, he took their food orders. They chose a mix of family-style dishes to share and individual entrees. Ayo ordered the miso-glazed black cod, while Jules opted for the wagyu beef teppanyaki. The table also agreed on an assortment of sushi rolls, tempura, and a large bowl of ramen to share.

Jules' arm tightened around the back of Ayo's seat, and he leaned closer to her. Symone caught Ayo's eye from across the table, mouthing "Get it!" with a suggestive waggle of her eyebrows. Ayo immediately shook her head, inwardly reminding herself that the last thing she needed was to end up with a guy on this trip. That was more Nikki's style, and besides, even though they were sharing a meal, these guys were still strangers.

The waiter approached their table once more, arms laden with steaming dishes. "Pardon me, your meals are ready."

He began setting down the plates, announcing each dish as he placed them on the table. "Miso-glazed black cod for the lady, wagyu beef teppanyaki for the gentleman. And here are your shared dishes: assorted sushi rolls, tempura, and a large bowl of ramen."

The group's eyes widened at the sight and aroma of the food. "This looks amazing," Ayo breathed, picking up her chopsticks.

They began to dig in and the conversation turned to their plans for the next couple of weeks.

Nicholas swallowed a bite of sushi before speaking. "So, what's on your itinerary while you're here?"

Symone counted off on her fingers. "Well, we're doing Tokyo for a few days, then Kyoto, and finishing up in Osaka."

"No way," Nicholas replied, his eyebrows raised. "That's pretty much exactly what we're doing too."

Gigi's eyes lit up. "We should totally link up again! Since we're headed to the same places and all."

Wilhelm nodded enthusiastically, pausing from his tempura. "That's not a bad idea at all. What do you guys think?"

"I'm down," AK chimed in. "It'd be cool to explore with some new friends."

Jules smiled, his eyes lingering on Ayo. "Sounds good to me. I'd like to get to know you all a bit better." As he spoke, his tongue darted out to lick his top lip seductively.

Ayo felt her cheeks warm, and she quickly took a sip of her drink to hide her reaction. "Yeah, that could be fun," she managed to say, trying to keep her voice steady.

Suddenly, a buzz in Ayo's lap made her jump slightly. She glanced down at her phone to see a text in their group chat from Symone: "BIIIIIITTTTTTTCCCCCCCCHHHHHH!"

Another message quickly followed from Nikki: "Jules wants to eat you up like a creme brulee. Give that nigga a bite, sis! 😉"

Ayo shook her head, choosing not to reply to the thread. Her mind was racing. She knew she shouldn't do anything with Jules, but the way he occasionally caressed her skin, his intense stares, and those full lips he kept licking were seriously testing her resolve. She reminded herself that the least of her worries should be surrounding men; she needed to focus on her move to London and securing her bag.

As they continued eating, the conversation flowed easily, punctuated by laughter and casual flirtation. Jules and Ayo found themselves engrossed in their own private conversation.

"So, London, huh?" Jules murmured, his breath warm against her ear. "That's quite a change from New York."

Ayo nodded, trying to ignore the shiver that ran down her spine. "Yeah, it's a big move. But it's an amazing opportunity for my career."

"I'm sure you'll take London by storm," he said, his fingers tracing light patterns on her shoulder. "They won't know what hit them."

Ayo laughed softly, feeling a blush creep up her cheeks. "We'll see about that. What about you? What do you do?"

Jules hesitated for a moment before answering. "I'm in sports."

"Oh?" Ayo raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "What kind?"

A small smile played on his lips. "Football."

Ayo's eyes widened slightly. She might not follow European football closely, but even she knew that was a big deal. "Wow, that's impressive."

There was still a bit of mystery beyond his answer, but Ayo still found herself increasingly drawn to Jules. His charm was undeniable, and the way he looked at her made her feel like the only person in the room, but a small voice in the back of her mind kept reminding her of her goals, her impending move, and the complications that could arise from a vacation fling. However, she couldn't help but wonder what might happen if she allowed herself to give in to the temptation sitting right next to her. Jesus knows that it's been too long since she was physical with a man, and her rose toy needed a break.

Fuck me.

This was going to be a long ass two weeks.

After dinner, Jules settled the bill and the group hailed a taxi to head to a nearby club. This wasn't just any taxi—it was one of those karaoke taxis, complete with neon lights and a vibrant interior. The seats were plush, covered in shiny, colorful fabric that reflected the pulsating lights. Microphones hung from the ceiling, ready for an impromptu performance, and small screens displayed lyrics. Jules and Ayo squeezed into the very back seat, their bodies pressed close in the tight space.

Gigi and Symone began belting out Muni Long's "Made for Me," their off-key voices filling the cab.

"Twin… where have you been? Nobody loves me like you do…"

Nikki groaned, "I didn't come to Tokyo for this sad shit. Driver, can you play something else?"

The driver responded in broken English, "You like Megan Thee Stallion?"

A chorus of enthusiastic "Hell yes!" and "Yeah!" erupted from the girls. The driver grinned and switched the music, blasting Megan Thee Stallion's latest hits. Symone and Gigi immediately started twerking, teasing the guys to turn up. The guys laughed, hyping them up and taking their phones out to record the antics. Jules shook his head in mock disappointment, but his eyes were full of amusement.

When they finally made it to the club, AK tipped the driver generously before Jules covered their entrance fee. Inside, pulsing lights and thumping bass greeted them. They secured a small booth, and a server quickly approached to take their drink orders. Jules ordered a round for the table.

Jules found himself having a great time, but his attention kept drifting to Ayo. He loved the way her name felt on his tongue, and he couldn't help but admire how stunning she looked. The flirting at dinner had left him wanting more, her scent and their brief touches lingering in his mind.

Taking a big swig of his drink, Jules leaned closer to Ayo. "Are you having fun?" he asked.

She nodded with a smile. "Yeah, I am."

"You seem like the quieter one in your group. Am I right?"Ayo nodded again, and Jules chuckled. "Same here with my friends. Don't worry, I'll do the talking for both of us."

Ayo giggled at that, and Jules felt a warmth spread through his chest at the sound. He winked at her, enjoying their growing connection and the easy rapport between them.

The music shifted from the heavy bass of a hip-hop song to the smooth, infectious rhythm of Afrobeats. Jules inclined his head towards the semi-filled dance floor. "Do you want to dance with me?"

"Huh?" Ayo said, surprised.

"Dance? With me?" Jules repeated.

Ayo hesitated. "No."

"Please?" he pleaded, giving her a puppy dog look. "Here, take a shot to take the edge off," he said, pouring her a shot.

Ayo accepted the shot tentatively, then shrugged and downed it quickly. She grimaced as the alcohol burned its way down, and Jules chuckled lightly. "C'mon, ma belle," he coaxed, leading her to the dance floor.

"C'est parti, Jules! (Here we go, Jules!)" Nicholas commented, patting Jules on the back as he led Ayo to the middle of the dance floor. Jules gestured with his finger for her to turn around. Ayo did as instructed, feeling Jules's front flush against her back, his hips moving into a slow wine, tempting her to do the same with her hips.

"Fuck," he murmured in her ear, his whiskey-scented breath teasing her and making her arousal grow. "You're so sexy, Ayo."

Ayo smiled as his hands on her waist tightened and his hips ground harder against her, allowing her to feel his hardened dick at the crack of her ass. Jules inwardly hissed at the friction, taking a deep inhale of her scent as they moved to the beat.

He was hard beyond measure, his length straining against the confines and his pant's zipper and all he yearned for was to be buried to the hilt inside of her. After tonight, Jules knew it would be hard not to want her. He affirmed to himself that a little vacation fling was exactly what he needed before the season started.

TO BE CONTINUED...