#[ ic ; Peerless Detective ]

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     None of that is true and whoever told Mushitaro that is going on Ranpo’s list.

[ninja-muse]

August 2021 Wrap-Up

Books read, in rough order of personal worth-it-ness:

Midnight's Children - Salman Rushdie (At the moment of partition, a baby is born. He is, in some ways, all of India.) - BIPOC, Muslim characters, Hindu secondary characters, #ownvoices

The Ratline - Philippe Sands (The life, and death, of a Nazi war criminal, and the son convinced of his innocence.) - Jewish author, tw: Nazis and their apologists

Project Hail Mary - Andy Weir (A man wakes up with no memory but quickly learns two things: he’s on a spaceship and the sun is dying.)

The Jasmine Throne - Tasha Suri (A maid with a secret, an imprisoned princess, an empire with deep problems.) - BIPOC, 🏳️‍🌈, #ownvoices

We Keep the Dead Close - Becky Cooper (A cold case, one woman’s quest to solve it, and a look at sexism and conservatism in academia.)

Are You a Cheeseburger? - Monica Arnaldo (A raccoon finds a seed that might grow a burger-tree.) - 🇨🇦

The Rocky Road to Ruin - Meri Allen (A travel blogger-cum-CIA librarian helps a friend take over the family ice cream shop. Then the friend’s brother turns up dead.)

The Tea Dragon Society - Kay O'Neill (A girl rescues a tea dragon and finds friendship.) - BIPOC and 🏳️‍🌈 secondary characters, 🏳️‍🌈 author

The Lights of Prague - Nicole Jarvis (A lamplighter, a widow, a wisp, and a vampire threat.) - 🏳️‍🌈, BIPOC secondary characters

The Girl from the Sea - Molly Knox Ostertag (A closeted teen meets a selkie on a mission.) - 🏳️‍🌈, BIPOC, #ownvoices

Ghost Stories of Oregon - Susan Smitten (Haunted buildings and spooky stories.)

The Wisteria Society of Lady Scoundrels - India Holton (A lady pirate, multiple dastardly plots, and a surprisingly attractive and infuriating assassin.)

The Glass Magician - Caroline Stevermer (A stage magician learns she belongs to the shapeshifting elite.)

Hardly Haunted - Jessie Sima (An empty old house hides her creaks and cobwebs to entice new residents.)

DNF

Velvet Was the Night - Silvia Moreno-Garcia (A music-loving enforcer and a quiet secretary with a double life both search for a missing student with revolutionary ties.) - BIPOC, #ownvoices, 🇨🇦

Currently reading

The Aeneid - Virgil, translated by Robert Fagles (Aeneas flees Troy and seeks a new homeland for his people.)

How Not to Kill Your Houseplant - Veronica Peerless (Plant care tips.)

The Finder - Will Ferguson (An Interpol agent hunts for a man who can find lost objects.) - 🇨🇦, BIPOC in the main cast

The Penguin Complete Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle (Victorian detective stories) - major disabled character

Stats


Monthly total: 14 Yearly total: 111 + 3

 Queer books: 4 #ownvoices POC books: 2 Canadian authors: 1

Read any of these? Interested in them? I’m happy to talk about my thoughts further!

January February March April May June July

[wide-eyedscottishlass]

Scarlett and the Professor

[continued from]

8pm sharp.  Well, at least I’m not tardy.

Without a further moment’s hesitation, Scarlett rang the bell, knowing that now there would be no turning back.  Though the sun was nearly set, the evening air was humid, as if portending a storm coming off the Caribbean after full dark.  Although Scarlett had taken a long bath before dressing, her exposed skin already felt sticky.  As if in answer to that thought, a light breeze suddenly whispered against her bare flesh, stirring the few wispy tendrils of hair that had fallen from her loose chignon.  How cooling it felt against her shoulders and arms, her back and her calves, rippling her hemline.

She had chosen a dress meant to please her lover, an Egyptian blue, rayon and silk trapeze silhouette, which loosely draped her form and fell into a high-low hemline that complimented her legs.  The color flattered her pale skin tone and dark hair, and matched the pure, bright ocean waters that surrounded this island—waters which she knew Professor Hennessy loved.  Silver and rhinestone embellishments adorned the spaghetti straps and low v-neckline, with celestial symbols of the sun and moon stitched in silver thread scattered upon the blue background.  As she donned it, Scarlett had been thinking of how she had unwittingly become the moon to his sun, locked in an unwavering orbit around him, pursuing his blazing heat, and seeming to come to fullest light only when she reflected his light.

Hyper aware of the growing night sounds around her, the nervous rasp of her own respiration, and the thundering beat of her heart, Scarlett still didn’t miss the click of the latch inside the door being released.  Warm, tawny light spilled out from behind him as Hennessy opened the door, and his classic, masculine beauty, the peerless angles and planes of his face, stole the breath from her lungs as it did each time she saw him anew.  His eyes held hers in stasis for several moments, taking her measure, raking across her form, coolly appraising her as though he saw not only right through her clothing, but down to her soul.  The first blush of the evening crept into her cheeks.

He had changed his clothes too, into a deep blue silk dress shirt, so snug across his chest that the buttons seemed to be straining not to pop off.   He had his sleeves rolled up again, and his waistcoat—in a shade lighter than his shirt—hung open.  Scarlett dared look no lower, not wishing him to catch her eyeing what lay below his belt—although she knew without needing a glance, that his bespoke trousers matched his vest, and fit him as snugly as his shirt.

Hennessy’s smile was warm and disarming, his clear blue eyes dancing with mirth.  “Well now, aren’t you the tastiest treat to grace my doorstep in about a month of Sundays!”  He backed up a little to allow her to pass, “But please do come in, Miss Scarlett--and welcome to my home.”  Though she hadn’t even tried to imagine what to expect, the place already felt to her as though it had been raised from it’s foundations to house the life force of this enigmatic, powerful, all too charming, yet dangerous, man.

Scarlett had seen some of Europe’s most opulent mansions and palaces during her gap year travels, and though Hennessy’s home paled by those standards, she was impressed enough to have to remind herself not to gawk.  The marble-floored foyer led into a two-story hall that housed a ten-foot wide, cobalt coloured, carpeted staircase, which swept upwards to an eight foot tall, stained glass window above the main landing.  A short run of stairs branched off on either side of the landing, presumably to bedrooms and bathrooms, and likely much more.  But it was the window that really grabbed her attention.

A large silver moon dominated a star strewn, indigo sky, riding above stylized waves fresh with white seafoam.  Several shades of blue-greens and blues marked the descending depths, which towards the bottom became nearly as black as true night.  A myriad of bright fish swam in the upper levels, along with several grey seals and tortoises; just beneath them dwelt jellyfish, porpoises, a few species of sharks, and a pod of orcas.  In the darker regions below cruised manta rays and bright red octopi and freakishly long eels.  Lurking the bottom was an ominous black sea serpent, outlined in the same silver that coloured the moon, so as to be visible.  It’s eyes were large and cat-like—and possessed the monster’s only other color besides black and silver.  Blue.  A bright blue that felt impossible to belong to such a menacing creature.  Why, even it’s deadly fangs and claws were silver.

Scarlett shivered at the sight, as though a goose had walked over her grave.  For several heartbeats she was overcome with deja vu—for it put her in mind of her nightmares of unseen, but too oft-dreamt, foul beasties populating the Deep, laying in wait to steal her away if she ever tread too far from shore.  Those terrors of her youth, which had only fully disappeared when she had tarried on the shores of the Aegean Sea during her Greek holiday.  And had just recently returned to plague her briefly throughout those weeks that Hennessy had left her languishing for his attention.  Still unaware that it was her ancient Selkie blood raising the alarm, she turned away—vowing that if…or when…she had cause to mount those stairs, she would avert her eyes from the troubling portion of the image, and focus solely on the moon and waves, the fish and sleek grey seals.

Hennessy looked back over his shoulder to make sure she hadn’t fallen behind, casually asking her, “Have you eaten?”

“Um…yes,” she replied quietly, not adding that she’d barely had an appetite in nervous anticipation of their evening together, “I assumed you didn’t invite me here for dinner…”

“That I did not,” he chuckled, stopping just outside a wide, open doorway to the left of the sprawling staircase, “But I think we could both use a bit of refreshment before the evening’s revelries begin.” He sketched a little bow, his handsome face become mischief personified, and motioned for Scarlett to proceed him into the room.

From the preponderance of leather and wood, she guessed this was his study.  The room had a decidedly masculine air about it, with dark wood paneling all around and full bookcases lining two walls.  With a quick glance, Scarlett noted a book of poetry by Dylan Thomas (which she would later discover was a first edition), well-weathered editions by Samuel Beckett and William Blake, and even a collection of works by her beloved Pablo Neruda.  That was a surprise: she never would have imagined Hennessy reading any sort of romantic poetry, let alone the works that she knew populated that title.  It certainly didn’t fit the image he presented to the world, let alone in the private moments they had shared thus far.

The wonderful smell of old, cherished books dominated the air and hints of cigar smoke lingered in the room.  Scarlett also detected traces of Hennessy’s cologne underlying it all.  A scent with notes of bright, clean citrus, mixed with amber and something that reminded her of an old cedarwood cabinet in her cottage back home, all tinged with a  salty tang. Taken altogether, scents that evoked sure thoughts of the sea.  Fittingly, a painting above the fireplace reinforced the aquatic feel---it depicted a ship with tattered sails wrecked upon a harsh outcropping of rocks, set against a backdrop of rough whitecaps and forked lightening.  Several sirens, creatures out of myths and sea dreams, beckoned with outstretched arms to the unlucky sailors, trapping the unfortunate men between the treacherous waters and the beautiful peril of supernatural beings seeking to wreck their immortal souls.

Other smaller paintings hung throughout the room, all celebrating various aspects of the sea, including one that would easily become Scarlett’s favorite: silvery moonlight adorning the ripples and waves that washed up onto a white sand beach—which put her in mind of the warm, lovely waters of the Aegean, when she’d vacationed in Mykonos a few years ago.

A bar cart sat beside a leather divan adjacent to one of the bookcases, topped with cut crystal old fashioned glasses, a gleaming, sterling silver ice bucket, and a sealed bottle of Glenlivet 18 YO. Hennessy dropped several ice cubes into one of the rocks glasses, then cracked open the bottle of fine, Scottish-distilled whiskey, pouring first onto the rocks, and then straight up into a second glass.  He turned to Scarlett, holding out the iced drink to her, “Care for a taste of home?

She stepped forward and silently took his offering, giving a small start at the brush of his cool fingertips against her skin at the transfer.  A sudden rush of anticipation—and damned desire—bolted through her, betraying her resolve to appear aloof to his wicked charms for as long as she could manage. And of course he noticed, the Man never missed a trick; her quick intake of breath, the dilation of her pupils, enough to give her away.

Hennessy greeted her response with a satisfied half-smile and a knowing lift of his brow, clearly pleased with her quiet but visceral reaction.  “It’s meant to take the edge of, darlin’…to help you relax a bit,” he winked, raising his glass, “Slainte mhath.”  He took a long swallow, while never taking his eyes off her.

She hesitated in meeting the familiar toast, instead swirling the ice a bit, so that notes of rich cream and caramelized vanilla wafted up from the heady ramber fluid, while she wondered if there might have been something in the bottom of the glass, or even in the ice itself, before he’d poured the whiskey in.  Closely considering if Hennessy would actually sink that low.

“Oh, Scarlett…my dear girl,” he t’sked, practically reading her mind, “Do you honestly think I’d want to dose you?”  He feigned a look of hurt that soon melted into an indulgent smile, “We both know why you’re here tonight, and I wouldn’t dream of depriving you of fully experiencing the…festivities…”  he bit his lower lip, daring her to answer.

“No,” she replied, almost to herself, letting her small overnight bag slip the floor, “No, I suppose you wouldn’t.”  And then, wanting to prove herself up to whatever he had planned for them in the hours ahead, Scarlett lifted her glass and thickened her brogue for maximum effect, “Gu gaothan arda agus maighdeannan-mara!��� fearlessly throwing back the full portion of whiskey he had given her.  Unaccustomed to hard liquor, she had to give a little shake of her head to keep from gagging as the bite hit the back of her throat---but soon enough, she felt the velvet burn go down, and even better, the liquid courage radiating out from the pit of her stomach to even the tips of her fingers and toes.

Her boldness appeared to please him, which left Scarlett pleased as well---until she gave a wee, ladylike burp.  He did a double take as she quietly excused herself, before he laughed heartily.  “Good god, Scarlett, but you never fail to entertain!”  To that, she could only shrug sheepishly, then give him a sweet, honest smile.

Hennessy downed the remainder of his own drink and set his glass down on the bar, before drawing his closest to her yet, so that she had to look up to maintain eye contact.  Unconsciously, she parted her lips, readying herself for his kiss, but that was not his intention.  Instead, he retrieved her tumbler and reached for her overnight bag, taking it to deposit on the divan, before he moved to refill both their glasses.  Scarlett started to decline when he held it out to her, but he shook his head.  “Take it, my dear,” he insisted, sounding kindly, but clearly expecting her to come to him at once, “’Twould be a cardinal sin to waste such good whiskey.”

Close up this way, his magnetism took over, reminding Scarlett there was very little chance she could withstand anything he would ask of her this night.  She sipped at her whiskey, allowing herself to enjoy its woody-spiced flavor and slight taste of vanilla, it’s mounting warmth spreading relaxation through her veins.  Hennessy was watching her keenly, biding his time as he polished off his portion.

When satisfied she had drunk enough, he put both their glasses aside, and turned to her with a soft smile, the request that followed completely unexpected.  “Scarlett, would you take down your hair for me?”  She blinked several times in surprise, so that he added gently, “Please, my dear.  You don’t wear it down nearly enough.”

“As...as you wish...Professor.”  His gaze felt like a slow, painless dissection, as though he was reckoning even her most secret details, thoughts, and desires.  Scarlett inclined her head a bit, and pulled out the silver comb that secured her updo, along with several bobby pins, then shook her hair loose, fluffing the length out with her free hand.  

She looked back up when Hennessy drew a whistling breath, to find he’d closed what little space had been left between them.  “There you go, my good little lamb.  Pretty as a picture.”  He took her hand between his two, relieving her of the comb and pins, softly stroking the back of her hand with the fingertips of his free hand, then sliding them up to her elbow in a slow, deliberate tease.  She closed her eyes, knowing that the seduction had truly begun.

Hennessy deposited her ornaments in his pocket, another trophy in his conquest, and with his hand still on her elbow, drew Scarlett to him.  She raised her face, waiting for his kiss---though he delayed, threading the fingers of his other hand through her hair, then tracing the shell of her ear.  Just kiss me, dammit, her mind cried out, kiss me please!  She parted her lips once more, in anticipation.

“Prettier than any picture that I’ve seen in a very...long...time,” he murmured, then finally laid his lips on hers.

Of all the kisses he had yet bestowed upon her, this was the most patient.  The most thorough too, for he knew he had all the time in the world.  Scarlett’s instinct insisted that this was as much for his own sake as for hers---for though he certainly knew what this evening meant to her, and that what lovers she took for the rest of her life would ever be compared to him, he was actually about the entire experience, and not just the consummation that had been her promise to him from before they had shared a single touch.  Hennessy savored her lips patiently, precisely because he knew she was already his---and surely because he had nothing to prove or anything further to gain.

When they broke the first time to catch a gasp of air, he leaned his forehead against hers, breathing just as hard as she was.  It felt like forever to her as she waited for him to begin again, yet before he did, he cleared his throat, asking huskily, “Before we truly commence, little lamb, satisfy my curiosity please…”

“Anything,” she whispered.  Anything for you, dearest man.

He puffed against her lips, amused, “Just what in God’s good English did you mean by that toast you made?”

Scarlett couldn’t help but smile, marveling that for once she had stumped him.  “Man of the world…Master of all you survey…surely you can guess…”

“I haven’t a clue, Scarlett,” he practically growled, “And I’ll have all your secrets this night, one way or another.”

Of course you will, she thought, and brushed her lips to his, delivering the translation.  “To high winds…and mermaids! Like a blessing—for an auspicious new endeavor.”  

She felt the smile that graced his fulsome lips, as he told her, “My oh my…you are a true wonder, Scarlett.”  Then he silenced any reply she might give by searing his mouth to hers.                        🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊

Now these were, by far, the most alluring, the most delicious, most prized kisses of her young life, and Scarlett gave way most willingly, moment by moment, feeling as though Hennessy was slowly consuming her.  He held her face in his hands when they started, and she had pressed hers to his chest, dependent on his strength to keep her knees from buckling.  She panted for air when he withdrew his lips, and then heard the small, hungry sounds she made when he dipped his tongue back into her willing mouth.

When he noticed that one of her straps had slipped off her shoulder, his kissed his way down her throat and onto her bare skin.  Scarlett hadn’t bothered to try and conceal the love bruises he’d given her that afternoon—she had only worn a lightweight scarf to cover them while in the taxi that had brought her here—and now Hennessy softly revisited those marks, as though in deference to their tenderness.

That was exactly the sort of thing that always set her off kilter.  Scarlett was already well acquainted with how lustfully he pursued fulfillment of his appetites.  And she’d discovered that such reckless, heedless behaviors made her want him all the more.  Hennessy’s wicked proclivities were legion, ever waiting to surge up from his depths, and though she knew he had only shown her a fraction of those tendencies, what she had experienced thus far made her want to play his wanton.  But when he was gentle, solicitous of her needs, mindful of her inexperience, it was her heart that became more deeply entangled in the spell her body had all but fully succumbed to.  Scarlett had fallen hard, imperiling her tender heart beyond anything that Hennessy might visit upon her young, oh-so-willing body.  Or so she still believed.

There was no resisting his pull upon her, nor the confidence and skill of his elegant hands as they slid across the fabric of her dress, cupping her breasts and later her bottom with the fervor that had her wishing he would just strip her bare already. Pressed tightly to him, Scarlett could feel his erection growing more swollen and was imagining what it would feel like to have him finally buried deep inside her.

Hennessy was kissing her throat, occasionally grazing her skin with his teeth, each time a surprise enough to make her gasp.  With the latest, he brought his mouth to her ear, issuing a smooth command, “Come sit with me, little lamb.”  Not giving her a moment to consider disobeying, he dragged her along to one of the leather wingback chairs that sat before the unlit hearth.  “I’ve fancied sitting you on my lap for some time now, Scarlett,” he told her, and pulled her down onto him with enough force to elicit a breathy, surprised giggle from her.  “Does this amuse you, my dear?”

She shrugged, bit her lip, and then averted her eyes coyly, “Oh, Professor...everything you do...is...is like nothing I’ve experienced before.”  His silence bade her continue, so that she turned her widened eyes back his way, “You astonish me...again and again.  And sometimes...sometimes you frighten me.”  Scarlett felt her color rise once more, but would not flinch from her confession.  “But most of all, you fascinate me, Sir...and make me want to drown in your desires.”  She breathed out slowly, hanging upon his response.

He studied her closely, searching her truth--and finding not a speck of artifice in her admission, nodded, “You understand, sweet lambkin, that there is danger as much in my undertow as in my deep waters?”  Scarlett nodded solemnly.  “And that your innocence is no protection against this?”

“Oh yes,” she sighed, her skin atingle where he had spread one hand between her shoulder blades.  “I’ve spent my life shirking risk and danger at every turn--but I want yours now more than anything I’ve ever wanted in my life.”  With that she leaned in to kiss him, sealing her lips to his as fearlessly as she sealed her fate...

(to be continued)

tagging: @strangelock221b @letterstosherlock @ben-c-group-therapy @tsukuyomi011 @ravencatart @emilyinnj4real @humanbornarchangel @aziracraw @aeterna-auroral-avenger @adragonscloset @naughtynecromancer  and @cinderella1181 so you can see a sample of what I’ve been working on lately 

[yourhealthmattersblog]

The increasingly more realistic

the peerless soldier - An Extremely Interesting Tale

This the peerless soldier is wonderful. This is the most reasonable collection I've ever checked out. The main character that's really skilled, but not over-powered. You additionally require to take pleasure in or at the very least be all right with: - A fact that the tale's growth is VERY SLOW. - The drama involving lots of women, like a harem. (the typical shade-throwing, name-calling, face-shaming, etc between honorable ladies as well as petty relative). The primary personality with a virtually magical one-of-a-kind capability that nobody else has. - The main character who's continuously combating and being oppressed each and every single time she rises up. I do not recommend it if you desire:. Charming fluff. A proud, over-powered, triumphant, or barbarous major character. - About Training/Leveling up.

This is just one of the elements in the peerless soldier manga that goes rapidly (I am at phase 144 and we still have actually not noticed much romantic/character advancement). Keeping that claimed, below is a summary of the storyline:. Han Yunxi is a brilliant toxin physician in a modern-day age. Following her unanticipated fatality, she's reborn in the body of a "worthless rubbish" daughter of a medical household, concerning to be married right into the cool and also withdrawn Duke of Qin, Long Feiye. Nonetheless, her husband rejects to satisfy her in the doorway, her fresh in-laws hate her, her older family members despise her, and also she has actually been attracted into a recurring feud within the royal residence ... with just her distinctive toxin abilities help her. She does get here in the past utilizing a "cheat ability" (her futuristic poison detox/detection system), however she's not OP. Despite her poisonous substance abilities, she's challenged with continual trials as well as struggles in the sort of social systems and also physical threat. She's absolutely no martial arts ability, her approaches do not always work as prepared, she will certainly not kill ruthlessly due to her previous task as a doctor, and she also has little to no help from others. In general, she's alright to read and also her struggles are simple to understand.

In mangabat, Long Feiye is often described as an "ice cube," as well as it is no joke-- he is among one of the most aloof, passionless, and chilly primary characters. Seriously. It's not such as "oh look just how tsundere he's, cute," it is a lot more like "he legitimately does not care if she passes away." Do not expect him to be a cozy key character, at the very least not for at the very least 150 chapters. Overall, this is one of the increasingly more realistic [light manga online totally free] in the "genius female born-again as scrap child in the early age" category. I liked it and also read all of the most up to date chapters in simply 2 days. To know more, check out: https://joaniekurtzer5998.wixsite.com/mangaandcomics/post/mc6gs0kvzeoq99nhhvxp1638954732

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     “I have a son now. His name is Henry Fitzgerald and he is a dagger I have had for 13 minutes. Scott and I share custody.”

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       He’s just gonna enjoy his brownies in plain sight. They taste really good! That mafia guy is a lot nicer than he acts and he’s great at baking, too! Ranpo might have to make a habit of this.

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       “So, if people could, like, not try an eat my favorite person in the world- just for like a day? That’d be great.”

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".. i got these for you, but i don't really know if you like peppermint." tetcho holds out a few candy canes with an almost unsure demeanor about him -- he likes to make ranpo happy, after all, but he's just not sure if this is something that will aid in that. "..i'm not really good at reading people in general, but you're even harder to read, so it's hard for me to tell what you like."

@10dreamt

     “Let me give you a hint, then!” Ranpo grins as he takes the candy canes, immediately unwrapping one and sticking one end into his mouth. Tetcho is sweet and he tries very hard so his uncertainty is a bit confusing, especially when he delights Ranpo so easily, as if he knows exactly what he’s doing.

It’s clear from the swordsman’s face, however, that he doesn’t. That won’t do at all. The people he’s chosen are the best. He loves them, after all, so that’s just the way things are. Tetcho needs to know.

“If it’s in the candy aisle and has candy in the name, I love it.” He bites off the end of the candy cane and points the rest of it at Tetcho, his free hand propped on his hip.He leans up and presses a kiss to the former hunting dog’s cheek before returning the candy cane to its proper place between his lips. “You did great!”

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Chuuya delicately uses the side of his hand to lift Ranpo's chin-- Gray-blue eyes staring into the detective'for maybe a second too long, a pleased smile on the Executive's face as he spoke. "Y'know, y'mean more t'me than the whole world, Princess." A sentence that was, of course, punctuated with a kiss planted directly on Ranpo's lips- one that lasted for several seconds before he finally pulled away.

@elegantvoices

     Ranpo feels his heart skip as his lover tilts his head up and meets his eyes. Chuuya’s crimson gaze holds him there, sending a pulse of warmth through him, radiating from his chest as the mafioso speaks. This display really strikes a chord with him it seems, because, for a moment, the genius’ ever-present voice is lost as a blush blooms on his cheeks.

He can’t remember the last time anyone has made him blush.

As Chuuya’s lips lock with his, he responds in kind, eyes falling shut as his fingers move to trail through his boyfriend’s hair. For once, he’s speechless and flustered and as much as he likes having the upper hand...maybe he could get used to this.

As they part, Ranpo finally finds his voice, slightly breathless though it may be.

     “You’ve got excellent taste, as always!”

With the purr of those words on his lips, Ranpo continues, leaning in to place a soft follow-up kiss upon the redhead’s jawline. “I do too, though, because I feel the same about you.”

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tetcho knows ranpo likes to be showered in attention, so he's settled himself next to the detective, pressing light kisses anywhere and everywhere on his face. "you're insatiable, you know." but it's not a complaint, because he's more than willing to provide that kind of attention.

@10dreamt

     “I know!” The detective proclaims it proudly as he leans into the soft press of his boyfriend’s lips. For someone who had spent so long without affection, Tetcho is certainly a fast learner. A trait that Ranpo greatly appreciates, especially when it involves giving him the attention he deserves.

Ah, but it isn’t all about him. Not entirely. As much as Ranpo loves being loved, his desire to love is just as strong. A sweet man like Tetcho deserves the best, after all, and Ranpo is nothing if not the best.

It’s a simple matter to turn the tables. The detective shifts to face Tetcho and a radiant grin alights upon his face as he climbs into his lap and makes himself comfortable, pressing a torrent of kisses, not unlike the ones he had been given, all over the other man’s face. Lips brush lightly over the marking beneath one fuschia eye before finding their way to Tetcho’s ear to whisper in a similar tone to Tetcho’s statement, 

“I love you, you know.”

With that, Ranpo settles down, curling slightly to rest his head upon the swordsman’s shoulder. This is safe. This is warm and loving, and Ranpo wouldn’t trade it for anything.

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      Happy Ranpo Month!! To celebrate, he is offering kisses for the price of one snack offering!

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@gekkajuu

     “I don’t know what you mean, Atsushi-kun, it’s definitely Halloween. Why else would the Americans be sticking their dicks in pumpkins?”

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        “Listen, I don’t care what Americans do with their pumpkins, as long as I get treats. We’re all excited for Halloween, but lets not forget the most important thing about October- Me.”

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     “ MORI SUCKS!!!! FUKUZAWA IS THE BEST DAD! GRANDPA SAYS SO! “

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abilities-of-yokohama replied to your post:        “So, if people could, like, not try an eat...

Care for a protective tiger in these trying times?

      “Please protect Akiko, Mr. Tiger. She is so good and important to me.”

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[Kyouka; Ranpo] 🌺

soft intimacy ; accepting ; @snowgleam

🌺 - Put a flower in my muse’s hair

     “Hm?” 

The fox-faced detective tilted his head to one side, then the other as the former assassin tucked the stem of a flower into his dark, unruly locks, but didn’t openly protest. He allowed her to finish the task, sitting as still as his boundless energy would allow before checking his reflection in the darkened screen of his handheld game system.

Ranpo didn’t know much about flowers or their types, but the color of the leaves matched his eyes nicely and yellow petals were delicate and soft without a tear or blemish to them. Practically perfect.

He smiled, reaching out to pat Kyouka on the head gratefully. “Pretty! I like it!”