#Reader I bought it

[gomzdrawfr]

He's the type that would go around using "missus" for everything

[omi-boshi]

"What are you doing?" Kiyoomi asks from his place on the bed, wary.

His arms part as he makes space for you to wiggle your way onto his chest. He breathes a laugh at your antics, watches as you take his face between the palm of your hands. The grin that tugs on your lips is a little lopsided, a little cheeky.

The bright red of your lips catches the light and it is the last thing he sees before you begin your assault.

Kiss. On his lips.

Kiss. Right cheek.

Kiss. Left cheek.

Kiss. Tip of his nose.

Kiss. The moles on his forehead.

By the tenth kiss, he is roaring in laughter. The kind of laugh that you've only ever heard when he's with you. It's loud, it shakes his entire being, jostling your body that lies on top of his if not for the arms he has wrapped around you to keep you in place.

It's a little ugly, a little silly the way he snorts in between laughs, but it is offset by the unbridled joy so clear to your ears. The kisses you leave by the corner of his eyes are distorted by the way they're crinkled in laughter. From there, his grin is a permanent fixture as you continue to fill every gap on his face and neck with kisses.

As the tint on your lips slowly fades, his laughter does too, mellowing down into a dopey little smile, eyes bright. You pull back to admire your handiwork, your smile just as dazed.

One arm unravels from your waist to cradle one of your hands still cupping his cheeks. He nuzzles into the touch, eyes tracing over your features, gaze so warm you feel it on your skin. It moves you to lean in once more, to kiss him on the lips.

Longer this time.

And Kiyoomi is more than eager to reciprocate. It's heavier, wetter. More breaths, gasps, and the occasional bites. There is an attempt at deepening the kiss further; Kiyoomi's tongue tracing the seam of your lips. But the giddiness that thrums through him pulls his grin wider. Every time your teeth clash, it makes you laugh into his mouth. It is truly in vain that you try to kiss properly.

When you finally pull away, it is to Kiyoomi mirroring you and cupping your cheeks with both hands.

"What was that for?" He is breathless as he asks. The look on his face no less lovestruck than it was before. The tint on his lips was the most smeared compared to all other kiss marks on his face. It makes you giggle, amused.

"I just wanted to kiss you, is all." You kiss the palm of his left hand to emphasize. "And I wanted to try out the lipstick I bought today." You nod towards the tube sitting innocently on your nightstand.

Kiyoomi shakes his head, chuckling to himself.

He hugs you to his chest, rolling you onto your back, placing himself on top of you. He reaches for the tube of lipstick, smile growing mischievous.

"Guess it's time to return the favor."

[ohworm-writes]

Thinking about Firefighter!Price.

Imagine him coming home after a long, exhausting day of working, keys jingling as he unlocks the door at some ungodly hour of the night, footsteps falling heavy against the floor as he walks inside, exhaustion and fatigue lingering along his form.

He's still dressed in his station wear - a fitted, navy blue t-shirt with Station 141's logo printed onto the front of it, small, right on the right side of his chest, and a pair of trousers in the same color to match, hanging loosely onto him.

He should take a shower, he knows he should. He smells of sweat and sulfur, the scents clinging to his clothes and skin like a second skin, and he know that the two of you'll have to wash the bedding come morning.

But god, the sight of you in bed, dressed in a loose pair of your own shorts and one of his spare shirts, face smushed against one of the pillows as your breathing comes slow, in and out, steady - it's far too enticing to pass up so easily.

So he unbuckles his belt in a daze, stripping off his shirt, undershirt and trouser, tossing the articles haphazardly onto the floor (he tries to toss them towards the hamper, but he knows he misses, given the way his belt buckle clanks loudly against the hardwood floor of the bedroom, but, honestly, he could care less).

And he gets right into bed beside you, fingers grazing lightly over the exposed skin of your thighs, traversing upwards, fingers splayed as his palm travels over the fabric of your shorts, sneaking their way under the loose shirt of his that you wear, hand pressing against your tummy as he pulls you close.

He presses his nose into your shoulder, eyes fluttering closed as he deeply inhales the scent of your body wash, softly shushing you as you start to rouse, the way your body gently begins to shuffle as you let out the softest, sleepiest yawn, listening as he grumbles softly against your skin.

"Didn't mean to wake you, love. Go back to sleep."

His voice is so hoarse, so strained and rough from the events of the day - yelling and barking out commands to the firefighters within the ladder and engine crews that he guides - but, at the same time, it's runs smooth like honey, settling just right in your sleepy, hazy mind.

He hugs you tighter, pressing your back flush against his chest as he curls his body around you in a subtly protective manner, littering tender kisses against your neck, trying to coax you back to sleep as he lets out a soft sigh, infatuated with the way your body molds perfectly into his.

"Mmm... s'fine, John. Wha... what time s'it?"

"None of your business, that's what time. Go back to sleep. I'll be here in the mornin'... promise you that. Okay?"

He doesn't let you ask your questions. If you try to think, he knows you'll wake up, and he already feels guilty about waking you up in the first place, so he doesn't even entertain your sleepy question, giving you a promise - two, technically. That he's here now and that it'll stay that way until the two of you wake up in the dawn.

"Stubborn..."

"Always. We c'n talk in the mornin'. Sleep."

"Mmm... glad you're back home safe. Love you."

"Love you, too."

But by the time he says the words, you've already fallen back asleep, and a deep, rumbling chuckle erupts from within his chest, amused, pressing one last kiss to the corner of your jaw before letting himself fall asleep behind you, his breaths, his heartbeat falling into sync with your own.

[just-null]

jay u NEED to draw more ino

PLS I BEG YOU HES SO HGHGHGH IN YOUR STYLE...

he's pretty cute!

even his underlying jealousy is pretty cute in how he asks because he goes right back to wanting to know everything about you and your day!

[ohimsummer]

husband! gojo finally convinces you to stop staying up til the crack of dawn awaiting his return home. he cares too much about your well-being, and someone would have to kill him dead anyway before he just never came back. you go to bed at a decent time that same night, and your lover comes home to find you passed out in his shirt and all snuggled up with his pillow.

he loves that you’re getting some sleep, but he’s also….jealous of the pillow? usually gojo comes home to your warm embrace and sleepy kisses—something he does miss right now, but he’ll pester you for plenty of your affections in the morning. that should be him cradled up in your arms, him being squeezed to your chest. him cuddled up and being clung to like he’d disappear if you let go.

blue eyes narrow at what should be an empty spot beside you; the feelings haven’t subsided when gojo finishes his shower, and he borderline yanks the cushion from your grasp, slotting himself between your limbs and mentally cursing when you begin to rouse from slumber. he gives your forehead a soft peck, whispering sweet nothings to lull you back to sleep, and then places that blasted, home-wrecking pillow beneath his head to drift off.

tagz: @elusivemoon @anthoosies @staryukis @yunymphs @sttoru :3

[chrissdollie]

CHRISSS

[bettsfic]

okay so i saw The Bikeriders today and i knew i wouldn't be normal about this movie and even though my expectations were impossibly high it exceeded them. i was happy for it to just be a cool movie for the sake of being a cool movie, toxic masculinity ultraviolence whatever, and it was but with Jodie Comer's character narrating about what fucking idiots all these macho biker dudes are. it's like if a woman narrated Fight Club while constantly pointing out how stupid Fight Club is

also, most of it was filmed near where i live and it was so exciting seeing places i recognized! it's been all over the news for weeks

things i loved about it:

protective older woman/loose cannon younger man

lowkey romantic stalking

a relationship suspiciously close to a throuple, by which i mean protective older woman goes to war against possessive older man, re: their mutual intense love for loose cannon younger man. and that's not even subtext that's just text

hot sadboy who doesn’t talk much and is so cool he doesn’t know how cool he is

british people doing midwestern accents

NO PLOT, god bless. just stuff happening and a lot of gay tension building

accurate portrayals of the aftermath of the vietnam war

accurate portrayals of mid-century small-town life

accurate portrayals of men being fucking pathetic

things i did not love about it:

for the love of god please wear a helmet

idk man it's just a whole-ass movie about how vietnam changed the very definition of masculinity, and that awkward era between wwii and vietnam when guys were rebellious for the aesthetic, rebel without a cause shit, twinks in leather jackets manhood. the movie even points that out, like they're so against rules but then they make all these rules for their silly little biker gang because they're bored. and then allll these vets come home from a war nobody wanted and they're actually rebelling, full anti-establishment, and there's just no more honor anymore because everybody's broken. which is all to say, somebody please come into my ask and be insane about this movie with me.

anyway i'm seeing it again tomorrow and i have already started an ot3 fic goodbye

[mxfrodo]

y'all for fucking real. don't fucking write slave fics or x reader fics of aventurine's slavery??? are you guys out of your goddamn minds???

[vigilvntes]

adrian and the reader panting into each others open mouths when they cum

adrian moaning into your neck when he fucks you

thats it thats the mental image send tweet enjoy

OKAYYY REAL

adrian cant come unless he's made you come. and just once isn't good enough, either. if he cant get AT LEAST two orgasms out of you then he's failed as a boyfriend and as a man. he's definitely more of a giver than a taker, like he'd spend hours with his head buried between your legs or whole afternoons with his fingers deep inside of you if you let him. i honestly don't even think he'd CARE whether he comes or not, like it'd be nice but as long as you're satisfied then he's happy. but he's a horndog okay?? so he's gonna come because how could he not?? you're so pretty and the noises you make alone are enough to send him over the edge before he's even taken his pants off sometimes. when he's about to come he insists on making you come at the same time. him moaning into your neck, whispering the dirtiest shit you've ever heard in your ear and his thumb brushing against your clit. his tongue in your mouth, devouring every last moan from your lips while you're coming until the tension that's been building since literally the minute he sank inside of you releases and a string of whimpers and moans leave his throat.

anyway, how are you anon? salute emoji

[alhaith4ms]

for your first anniversary as a couple, alhaitham gifts you a novel he thinks you'd enjoy and has annotated for the past few weeks (he can finish a book in one sitting, but for you he chose to read through the novel carefully to fully grasp the meaning behind the words)

you were silent as you carefully skimmed through the pages filled with his familiar handwriting and little colorful sticky tabs stuck on certain parts of the pages that indicate which sentences or paragraphs reminded him of you.

looking up to him, you couldn't find the words to express just how touched you were. "'haithie, you didn't —"

"have to get you anything, yes." he said, finishing your sentence for you. "i just happened to see that book while i was in the book store a few weeks ago and thought that you may enjoy it."

"seems like i'm always on your mind, huh?" you grinned, hugging the book close to your chest. "you even annotated it for me, lemme read an entry..."

before you could even find a page to settle on, alhaitham closed the book shut. "my mind is constantly plagued by you ... but i don't mind it." his cheeks were flushed pink as he looked away from you. "read it once you're home."

not wanting to overwhelm your already flustered boyfriend, you put the book safely into your bag and continued to enjoy the nice dinner date to celebrate your anniversary.

once you were home, you opened the novel to the very first page to see that alhaitham wrote a short note:

'to my (y/n), the one who has managed to capture my heart, the one who my soul loves, here's to the first of many anniversaries we'll have.

i love you.'

[ghcstpyre]

john wick x f!reader

cw: cis female reader, slight dom/sub dynamics, soft dom!jw, sub!reader, unprotected p in v, creampie, squirting, praise kink. MINORS BEGONE!

word count: 1.4k

a/n: i am in a Mood™️ and was inspired to try and write a quick piece. also yes I am procrastinating everything because of animal crossing so this is also to try and get back into the swing of writing lol. enjoy!

Your cheek squished against the flat, cool surface of the rich mahogany desk. Sometime after settling down in John's private library with your usual dark fantasy romance and John following not long after to have a nosey at what you'd been reading, you'd ended up bent over the nearest desk with your skirt yanked up and bunched around your waist and your panties pulled to the side. Thick fingers dug into the soft flesh of your hips, keeping your willing body right where he needed it. You were doing your best to be quiet, as per his orders, but it was becoming increasingly difficult with each delicious inch he pushed inside you.

“John…” You whined, wiggling your hips under his iron hold in an attempt to coax his cock further inside you.

This only had John doubling his grip on you. The fingers that held your hips dug in further, hard enough to bruise and leave little crimson crescent moons in your skin. The pain didn't deter you though. It only had that unsatisfied ache pulsing within your centre flaring up tenfold.

“Shush, baby,” John's voice was low and gravelly and sent a thrill rushing down your spine. Really, it was almost pathetic how much of an effect just his voice had on you. “I told you to be quiet. You sure you can do that for me?”

He leaned over, pressing his muscled slab of a body against your back to nip at your earlobe. You bit your lip in an attempt to stifle a whimper of need, just barely succeeding, and nodded.

“Good girl.”

John’s stubble grazed you and his long, dark hair tickled your skin as he pressed a tender kiss to your cheek and the weight of him lifted off of you. Whether it was out of mercy or pity - or both - John pushed the full length of his cock inside you in one swift motion. It took everything you had to not cry out in pleasure and pain as his tip kissed your cervix, filling you completely.

He watched as you struggled to keep any noises from escaping, his gaze heavy enough that you could practically feel it pinning you down to the desk just as effectively as his meaty hands. Seeing you in such a state of utter need while also being desperate to obey had his length throbbing inside you.

John set an unbearably slow pace, slow enough that it had you practically crawling out of your own skin. You so desperately wanted - no, needed him to to just fuck you, but instead it seemed he was determined to make sure you felt every vein and every inch, right up to the ridge where his swollen pink head met his shaft.

“Mmm, that's it, thaaaat's it.”

All you could do was lay there and take it without protest, however he wanted to give it to you. Your hands white knuckled the edge of the desk in front of you, serving as your anchor as you fought tooth and nail to keep any sounds of pleasure trapped behind your teeth. You knew that disobedience would result in punishment and you didn't really feel like being punished and degraded right now.

Right now, you wanted to be showered with praise. You wanted to be adored.

“You're being such a good girl for me. You want more?” He asked, relinquishing the vice grip he had on your hips in favour of smoothing those large, rough palms over the meat of your ass.

You didn't get a chance to nod. John was already parting your cheeks and chuckling deeply at the sight of his shaft, half buried in your soaking cunt and glistening with your slick arousal while the rest of it slowly dripped down your thighs.

“Look how wet you are for me. Of course you want more; you've already soaked my cock.”

With one hand he gripped one of your cheeks, while the other snaked up your spine to tangle in your hair. He pulled on the strands, forcing you to lift your head up and prop your upper body up on your elbows and forearms as his hips finally, finally picked up the pace.

If you weren't struggling to stay quiet before, you sure as hell were now. John knew how you liked to be rocked, what the perfect angle was to hit that sweet spot inside you that made you see stars. 

Tasting the tang of iron on your tongue you stopped biting your lip. You'd been so focused on keeping any noise at bay you hadn't even registered how hard your teeth were clamping down on the soft flesh while John pumped his huge cock in and out of you.

“You're doing so well for me baby, so well. Just a bit more and I'll - ngh - let you cum. I want to enjoy this sweet pussy a little longer.”

God, if his dick didn't push you over the edge then his words might just do it. Knowing that such a sweet, gentle man had the capacity to groan out words so filthy made that sick little part of you sing with glee.

The sounds of your rapid breaths mixed with his grunts of pleasure and skin slapping against skin bounced off the walls and echoed through the rows of bookcases filling John's library. Your legs began to shake as that familiar heat began coiling low in your abdomen. Sensing your building need, John let go of your hair and ass cheek to lean that glorious weight over you once again, propped up on one thick forearm while his other hand moved between your trembling legs to rub your neglected clit.

You keened into his heavenly touch and you couldn't stop a strangled little cry from escaping. You were quick to cut it off however, dropping your head to press your treacherous mouth into the inside of your elbow to muffle the noise. 

“That's my girl. You've been so good, do you want to cum? You want to cum for me? You want to be loud?” John's voice was practically dripping with honey as he whispered in your ear.

All you could do was lift your head again, look at him over your shoulder and nod pathetically while you rocked your hips back against him, meeting his thrusts.

“Cum.” He ordered, slamming into you with his fingers working relentlessly on your clit beneath you. “Cum on my cock baby. Scream for me.”

That was all the encouragement you needed.

Your cries and sobs of pleasure drowned out anything else as you came, your pussy gushing over his length and thighs and the wooden floor beneath your feet while you rode out the waves of your orgasm. John wasn't too far behind, pressing his chest flush against your back to suck a dark bruise into the crook of your neck while he thrusted into you one, two, three more times, and then filled you with his seed with a loud, long groan.

Both of you stayed like that for a short while, catching your breath and begging to sober up from the lust-addled haze you were in just moments ago. Eventually, John lifted his weight from you and pulled out, letting his cum leak from your entrance. He took a few moments to run his hands up and down your back, soothing you as you came down from the high.

“You okay?” He asked, his voice returning to its usual deep, gentle lilt.

Somehow you managed to stand up and turn around to face him on your shaky legs. John was quick to wrap his arms around you to keep you steady. You were all too grateful, immediately leaning your weight against him and letting out a content sigh.

“Yeah. More than okay, I feel amazing.” You smiled up at him, cheeks rosy with happiness, and then nuzzled your face into his broad chest.

John chuckled, the baritone sound rumbling from within. “Good.” With a swift motion he scooped you up into his arms to carry you bridal style towards the door to the library. “Because I've not quite had my fill of you just yet.”

divider by @/strangergraphics

[uwuyangeppie]

how fast can a silvermane guard run?

those blue suits allow for a lot of movement- indeed, your average, everyday guard can be quite agile in them. but surely all the armour would weigh them down.

so, they can’t run that fast. not in uniform anyway, and that’s when it counts.

how fast can a silvermane guard run?

the lieutenants must struggle. yes, they’re much more suited to giving commands, dressed in heavy armour. when they take it all off, you wouldn’t be surprised if they’re too exhausted to do anything but sleep.

how fast can a silvermane guard run?

you mistakenly thought that he might be the same as the lieutenants. you can see the plates he wears! so- so why-

adrenaline fuels you on, your heart rate nearly double what it should be. you try and pick up the pace, your eyes firmly in front of you. they have to be. one mistake and it’s all over.

your throat burns. you can’t help but feel like a bunny running for its life. you catch a glimpse of a fragmentum monster and you hesitate. not for long- maybe like half a second.

but it’s all gepard needs.

he collides with you, his arms wrapping around your body, and together you crash into the snow.

how fast can a silvermane guard run?

your standard guard could probably run at least a little faster than the average man. a lieutenant is below average- how far below the line varies from man to man.

gepard landau is different.

as you lie together in the snow, his breath hurts you more than the icy cold ever could, hot against your neck.

gepard is a predator who only seems to get faster as time goes on. you had prayed and begged qlipoth for speed, for preservation from a horrible danger, and he had surpassed that gift.

a guard has the potential to be fast. you’ll never make the mistake of seeing that superhuman monster as one ever again.

“if that fragmentum creature hadn’t shown up, i might’ve had to put a bit more effort into catching you. let’s go home, shall we?”

[bluesylveon2]

Yuu/MC and Ruggie’s foolproof plan to get free food:

Ruggie, gets down on one knee, pulls out a ring box, and opens it: Yuu Crewel, will you make me the happiest man alive and marry me?

Yuu/MC, crying fake tears: Yes!

Meanwhile:

Crewel: puts his newspaper down

[ohworm-writes]

Just thinking about veteran and or retired neighbor Price right now *sighs dreamily while twirling my hair*

Like, okay - imagine having a house next door to Price situated in a small, cozy village up somewhere in Northern England, surrounded by nothing but green, grassy plains and dense forests with a stream that runs through the small village. I see him living somewhere cozy... quiet. Away from the loud, noisy environments that he'd been so used to, finding somewhere calm to settle down.

I see him having a pet. Maybe a lazy dog or a farm cat, something that'll follow him around and take a nap with him after a long day, either laid across his body or beside him. But, at the same time, maybe he'd like a pet that has a bit of energy - you can take a man out of the military, but you can't take the military out of a man. He still has so many traits and habits he's picked up from the military, and if you know anything about older, retired men, it's that they always need something to do and busy themselves with.

RANDOM THOUGHT but I feel like he wouldn't retire unless Laswell grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and forced him out of the military, likely for his own good. If it were up to him, he'd stay in the fight until he died, so I'd think that him getting close to it was what pushed for the decision to be made for him to retire - maybe he was injured to an extent that it wouldn't be smart for him to keep going or something of the like - I could totally see him with an amputation of sorts (like, twinning with Alex lol).

I think he'd like to keep to himself for as much as he could. I don't see him as one of those super friendly, "oh, let me help you with that" type of neighbors unless the situation is right, or, rather, unless he's called upon for help. Like, he's grumpy and stoic, but only until somebody comes to him asking "hey, sorry to bother, but can you help me with something" and he'd soften up - begrudgingly, it seems, but, really, he's happy to offer some assistance. It makes him feel useful.

God, imagine moving in next door to him and struggling to unload your car of all the boxes and things that are haphazardly packed inside of it, and him walking out of his house, seeing the way that you're struggling, and letting out a heavy sigh - just like "welp, suppose I know how I'm spendin' my mornin' now" and coming over to offer his assistance, a little awkward at first, but that quickly melts away as he settles into comfortable conversation with you.

*slamming fist against the table repetitively* BRINGING HIM FOOD OR TREATS AS A MEANS OF THANKING HIM FOR HIS HELP! A little reusable container held between your hands, to your chest, walking over to his place and knocking on the door, outstretching it towards him and being like "thank you - for your help... I wanted to show my appreciation, you know? so, I made you this" and giving the container to him.

AND WHO IS HE TO SAY NO??? (He tries, believe me, but that sweet, eager look on your face, wordlessly begging for him to take it... he can't deny you). AND HIM RETURNING TO YOUR PLACE A FEW DAYS LATER WITH THE CONTAINER IN HAND, BEING ALL GREATFUL AND STUFF. God, someone let him be real, pleaseee.

Becoming comfortable neighbors with him, spending rainy afternoons over at his house, or, in contrast, him at yours, sat on the front porch with a cup of tea or coffee or hot chocolate in hand, gossiping about some of the neighbors that live within the houses along the street, the both of you sharing your own life stories here and there, him divulging about his time in the military without shame.

Okay, I know a lot of people like to think that he wouldn't ever share or talk about it, but I can't see that. It's not like he's ashamed of his time - he's proud of the work he did, if anything, and it's all behind him now, so why should he be shy to share about the things he did? Of course, I don't think he'd go into gruesome detail about it or share about everything he's seen, but he'd totally be like "yeah, I've been all over the world - did a few OPs in X, Y and Z countries, took down terrorists, et cetera" and answer any questions with pride.

Him totally being The Man™ who you can go to if you need help with anything. Need help with a leaky sink? Give him a few minutes and he'll be over with a toolbox. Want to do an oil change on your car but have no clue where to start? Don't worry, he's got an oil pan, jack and a few rags around somewhere, he's sure - he'll be over in a few. Want some simple, good ol' company? He's outside the door already.

He'd be more than happy to give you a tour of the village if you ask, pointing out which neighbors to trust and which to be wary of, telling you about his favorite pub that's posed all the way on the far side of the town, but he promises you that the food, drinks and atmosphere are like nothing else. Walking with you down the stone pathways, footsteps clacking against them, taking in the sights with you and answering every question you may have, or, simply settling into a comfortable silence with you. At peace. Comfortable.

I'm so *laying on my bed on my stomach and kicking my feet slowly in the air behind me* I need him.

[baeshijima]

fic where you are the heir to the throne and argenti is your personal knight who can be a little... melodramatic at times, but you know he means well when he takes meticulous care in your appearance when you are to speak before your people or about to attend a ball ("everyone must be dazzled by your beauty, your highness!" ...is what he always responds with whenever you ask why he insists on doing it himself when there are maids for that very purpose), as well as his habit of presenting you a bouquet of roses he lovingly named after himself, always managing to replenish your batch just before they wither away ("there is nothing which match my beauty as these argenti roses do, and you deserve only the most loveliest and most beautiful of experiences, your highness!" ...is what he parades with an almost comical sparkle), or even during the times in which he is to escort you, only to dramatize your entrance with an embarrassing flair as he makes your presence known to those present and possibly the neighbouring kingdoms, too ("but everyone must behold your beauty and grace, your highness!" ...is what he preaches when you sputter and fluster at his theatrics, his genuine expression rendering you unable to refute him each and every time).

despite all this, he is a knight nonetheless. you're reminded of this each time an assassin clambers through your window in the dead of night, only to be rendered immobile when argenti takes care of them without a second thought and makes no haste in checking up on you (whenever such incidents occur, it is always you who has to calm him down, holding his hands and reassuring him you are safe all thanks to him), or in the moments where you watch him train, in awe of his battle prowess and find yourself lost in his broad strokes and effortless stance perfected over the years (he likes to flex and show off when catching your stare, though you find it amusing how quickly he flusters when you don't avert your gaze. he's rather cute in this sense).

while some of his antics may be a bit over the top, he is your chivalrous knight nonetheless — and you wouldn't have it any other way.

(though you would never tell him that, for you would never hear the end of it...)

[irisintheafterglow]

love the idea of showing up to a race in one of satoru's jackets and anyone who tries to hit on you or give you trouble notices the embroidered signature of your boyfriend on the left front panel and immediately excuses themselves from the conversation