#A whisker away matching icons

[littlemissicons]

A whisker Away matching icons + Poster🫶

[lazyneonrabbitt]

🎃 Mister Uruk

Happy Halloween, everyone!

Modern!Adar x reader

Pure tooth rotting fluff with single mom reader, and single dad Adar.

I heard someone say "Halloween meet-cute and, I guess that works for this one

October was only a couple hours away from ending and parents roamed the streets with their children dressed as pirates, mummies, witches and ghouls.

Almost all little ones were back home already and now the older kids ran in groups, racing who collected the most candy over the night.

"Mommy, mommy please I wanna go there!" Your ever so persistent daughter had convinced you to let her go trick-or-treating after the younger kids' usual time 'because the big kid costumes are so much cooler' and made you wear simple black cat ears and drawn on whiskers along with a full black outfit, to match her spooky witch costume. It was clear she was the main event and you were just her sidekick.

But you had to agree wirh her. You were tired of hearing the parents with sticks up their asses complain about all the in your opinion harmless pranks the older kids pulled the day before on Devils' night.

And thus you let your daughter drag you to the large house at the end of the street. No one went near the house, not even delivery drivers dared to pass the gates so thr sons these days always went to pick up their takeout dinners. The house had an eery look to it with its dark walls, original stained glass windows and garden full of atrange plants the mysterious old man who otherwise barely left the house tended to with great care. The scarred, lanky man with the permanent scowl on his face if he ever needed to go outaide the gates

More often you only saw his sons at stores or around town, being the slightly more accepted ones of the family.

About a mother nothing was known, not even the rumors about the family ever had a mention of her.

You had seen the sons roam the streets, donning iconic slasher masks and scaring even the toughest kids around.

"Sweety, don't feel bad if no one opens the door, okay? The old man doesn't like visitors." But your words fell on deaf ears as she practices her elaborate scene in her head, passing the open gate that surrounded the freestanding house.

At the front door you rang the bell amd stepped back, letting your daughter take the spotlight and watched her wiggle her fingers in excitement, no doubt repeating her rehearsed lines one last time before the door opened with a creak.

In the opening appeared the man everyone spoke of but nobody really knew, with his black jeans and shirt hugging his figure. Out from under the fabric peeked scarred skin, from the sides of his head down one side of his neck and reaching all the way over one arm and hand.

His dull blue eyes stared down at your daughter, who instead of doing her little show stood with eyes wide and mouth agape. "Woah.."

"What a cool costume!" She jumped up and had a mile wide smile on her face.

You visibly cringed at her unfiltered thoughts being yelled out like that and gave the man an apologetic look, mouthing 'sorry' as his eyes landed on you. But he didn't respond, just grabbed the bowl of candies he had by the door and lowered himself to sit on his haunches to be at eye-level with your daughter.

"Oh? What pray tell does a witch seek at this house? You are not here to turn me into a frog, are you?" His eyes flickered back to you for just a short moment before his attention went back to the child in front of him, who promised she would leave him be, but only for a grand offer of treats. You chucked at her schemesWith her arms she gestured greatly and held out her bag.

"But of course, your magic majesty. Anything to keep my current form, I have grown to like walking on two legs and speaking like humans do." In his large hands he took a pile of candy and put it into the little witch's bag.

Wigh big, blinking eyes she stared at the man. As well as you, who for the first time really saw him for who he really was; a kind and friendly guy at the end of the street.

"I see you think, little one. You wonder. Was I not always a person? Maybe I was a simple house cat like your pretty familiar over there. Or a dog, a bird or a fish." His hands moved a lot as he talked theatrically to entertain the young girl to the best of his ability.

"Or maybe.." He slightly ducked his head, brows pulled in a frown and pulled up his shoulders.

"..A child eating uruk!" With a quick move he threw up his hands like claws and bared his teeth with a growl that had your daughter jump back with a squeek and a fit of laughter.

Content with his theatrics he stood up again, reaching back inside the house and offering a delicate bag of spooky themed chocolates. "For adults only. No alcohol for the little ones."

The smile he offered you as he brushed his long black hair away from his face had heat rise to your cheeks.

With a thanks you bid him farewell, returning a sweet smile as your daughter happily trotted down the path, looking back and waving "Bye, mister uruk!"

Back home you helped your daughter to bed and cleaned yourself up before changing into some comfortable clothes and laid down on your couch.

Some horrible cheesy monster movie was playing. The kind where the lady fell for the not-so-monstrous at heart creature the town hunted.

The bag of chocolates sat on the side table beside a cup of still steaming tea. They called out to you, you were so curious about their taste. There was no label on the bag that was tied with delicate black and orange ribbon. They looked handmade.

And they tasted delicious! The taste of liquor was evident but not overwhelming, a perfect balance of flavors in the small pumpkin shaped confection.

Adar watched the little witch and her mother walk off his property from the wooden chair on his small porch. The bowl of candy sat on the ground beside him as he lit a cigarette and smiled to himself.

It wasn't often such a young child graced his doorstep on holidays like this. Especially with all the crazy talk going around about him and his sons these last years he was even more surprised you let her walk up to his home and so closely interact with him.

He treated his very few visitors of the night kindly, the teens all wowed with the vast amount of candy he gave out compared to the other stuck up households.

When his sons finally returned home he had retreated back to his favorite chair and sat in front of the tv. The cheesy monster movie not even registering as he fondly recalled the little witch girl and her beautiful mother.

November first was cleanup day, where the community parents assisted in taking down large decorations and removing toilet paper and eggs from houses and share leftover homemade treats. It was always a fun time for the most part, besides the usual posh mothers not lifting a finger. You overheard them complain about certain people not showing up for the fifth time today and decided to move along further down the street.

You arrived at an elderly couple's home thay had such nice flowers in their yard all year round and now laid covered with foilet paper and yarn.

"Hey, let us help you out." The old man's sons appeared from the sidewalk and quickly came to assist, chatting and clearing one yard after another in record time.

You enjoyed working with them. They were kind and lots of fun.

"Oh, thank your father for the chocolates. They're really tasty. Had to put them away before I finished the whole bag in one go last night." The boys said they'd forward your message and everyone went back on their way.

"Dad, please go out more." "Yeah holy shit that lady was so nice, totally oposite of your cranky ass." "You should ask her out if you like her enough to offer her chocolates."

The doorway out of the kitchen where Adar found himself was blocked off by his sons.

"Good to hear the townsfolk like you more than me. I thought we knew that already." Adar kept his focus on the coffeemaker, begging it to work faster so he could pretend to be busy at least.

"Yeah right. 'Liking' us is all fine and dandy but she was all blushy and shit when we mentioned you only giving those out to special folk." With fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, Adar slumped against the counter, a deep sigh leaving his lungs. "I'll think about it. The going out more part, not the dating."

Weeks passed and like clockwork you kept running into the old man and his sons, quick hello's and how are you's shared.

Until one day it was just the old man, no sons with him at the store. You could see him staring in confusion with the basket hung off his arm.

"You look lost." You spoke carefully as to not startle him. His eyes found yours quickly, the grocery list crumpling as he fidgeted with the corners of it.

"I hate to admit that yes, I think so. It's been a while and nothing is in the same place as it was back when I still shopped myself." The words flowed like he never expected they would, talking to a stranger. Or well, not entirely stranger.

"Come, walk with me and we'll do the full store so you can get familiar with it again." You took him along and by the time you reached the register you had managed to make him smile and laugh with you. Much to the annoyance of the townsfolk who just scoffed as they passed you, but you happily ignored all of it.

"I should thank you, for making me look less of a fool. I am Adar, by the way. I realized I never told you my name." You gave yours in return, shaking his hand and letting it linger for a moment, complimenting his home and well kept garden.

Adar felt the looming pressure of his sons' voices telling him to ask you out. But he would never willingly set foot in public dining places that were known to indulge in rumors about him.

"Would you maybe like to come by for dinner once?" He cursed himself out in his head for it, his sons would not leave him be when they heard about this. And of course you agreed with a stammering, blushing mess of an answer and day suggestion.

You agreed to meet over the weekend for dinner at Adar's place.

Saturday came around fast and you were pacing around in the chaos of your exploded clothing cabinet in search of an outfit. To the point of your smartmouthed daughter barging in, who already had her clothes picked out by you and put on. "Mommy you look pretty in anything. Do this one!" She held up a top that matched the color of hers and without any idea what else to wear you agreed.

So you arrived at Adar's place with your daughter for dinner, simple one time thankyou dinner. That's it. You tried to convince yourself of it, but it wouldn't settle.

Aaron, the eldest son answered the door and led you to the diningroom where Eric, the youngest was setting the table and Adar busied hinself in the kitchen beside it.

"Good to see you made it in time. You look nice, miss."

You thanked him and looked into the kitchen where Adar came walking out with bowls of food in hand.

More and more appeared. Meat, two sorts of potatoes, different veggies and salad with dressings, gravy and sides enough for a week.

You couldn't help but stare in awe, not even noticing your daughter sneaking a single fry out of the bowl close to her and snacking on it.

"Please, enjoy the food." Adar's gruff voice spoke to start dinner, and swiftly there were bowls being passed around and people ate.

"Man, it's been ao long since we ate like this. The last time--" Eric's words were cut off by a smack on his arm by his brother, earning the boys a confused look that Adar answered to with heavy heart.

"The last time we ate like this their mother was still with us. It was before we moved here." You let out a soft sigh at a memory of your own resurfacing.

"Yeah, I understand the feeling. Last time I ate like this I had my parents over, and my ex's too. I announced my pregnancy that day, for the first time to my ex as well.. He left after a week of trying to get me to, you know." You made a gesture with your hands and the hint was clear to the adults in the room.

The rest of dinner was had while sharing funny tales and laughing over past adventures, soon all hanging back in your chairs with how good the food was.

Dishes were all done as a team, and finished in no time. The leftovers put in boxes for later and new drinks poured. For a while you chatted there in the kitchen while your daughter had joined Adar's sons who went to watch a movie.

Soon it started getting close to her bedtime, but she refused to go home before the movie had ended. Except the boys had put on the extended version of the first Lord of the Rings movie and it was only fourty-five minutes in.

"Well, now tou gotta stay." The boys had claimed the large couch and your daughter sat curled up in the huge lounge chair, lazerfocussed on the movie. So you and Adar shared the smaller couch.

The movie was good, that was a given, but after a while the boys retreated and your daughter had fallen asleep. To Adar it was clear what his sons were doing, and somewhere he appriciated it. It was just you two now with the little one snoozing in the chair.

"It wouls be a shame to turn off the movie halfway. Another drink?" Adar had that week finally dared to admit to hinself what he had denied for so long. He was lonely, and while his sons may have been pushy, their plans had led to something good. So when he came back with new drinks he sat closer to you, hoping you wouldn't mind and enjoy his advances.

When Adar came back and settle next to you your head screamed at your heart to not act immediately, but to no avail. You carefully settled against his shoulder and soon you two were cuddled up against each other. By the time the movie had ended neither of you wanted to move away.

"I can feel you think, but as much as I feel the same as you it's better for her if you take her home to sleep in her own bed." With heavy hearts you both went on to end the night, sharing contact information and agreeing on a second movie night in the process.

"So, did you at least tell her you like her?" "Come on, you have to!" As soon as the front door closed Aaron and Eric were at the stairs.

"I did not, you scheming brats. But we did agree on another movie night, at her place." The boys cheered and high-fived ine another at the plan. "And the two of you are babysitting her daughter."

The second night, you saw remarkably less of the movie. Limbs tangled, curled up in a thick blanket you only had eyes for each other. Neither of you found a bed that night and woke up on the couch regretting it with every cramped muscle in your bodies. Yet you laughed about it ovee breakfast.

And then by the time the third movie night was planned to happen you were all back in Adar's home. The men just finished up redoing their old study, that was now painted and decorated under your daughter's command. It was her new bedroom after all, and Adar had stupidly promised her to make it perfect for her, and she was very clear about her wishes.

That night when you brought her to bed she just would not settle, and eventually plopped down on her bed to question you.

"Now that we live with mister Adar, does that mean he is your boyfriend now?" Her big, wondering gaze turned into a frown. "Aren't you too old for boyfriends?"

You faked shock at her calling you old. "I'm not too old for boyfriends!" You crossed your arms with a pout. "Besides, Adar is even older. Isn't he too old for girlfriends then too?"

With her fingers at her mouth she made a diaplay of thinking about it. "Yep." She stated simply. "Old people have husbands, and wives."

"Really now? That's what you think?" God, that child had opinions..

"No no, she makes a point." Adar's voice suddenly appeared from the open doorway. "An old man like me talking about his girlfriend has a bit of an eery feeling to it, no?" An amused smile tugged at his lips. "I don't think I would mind being a husband once more, even if it's not on paper but just in title." He strolled over to the bed where you were trying to get your daughter to sleep. "If your mum agrees, tomorrow you'll wake up with two new older brothers, and only if you wish so, someone to one day call dad."

With each of Adar's wordsthe sparkle in her eyes grew.

"So, what do you say, missus? Girlfriend, or wife?" Two sets of eyes stared at you now. One patiently waiting on your answer, and one who, if she stared even the slightest bit harder, she'd develop laser eyes.

"Hmm, I never had a husband before. I think I'd like to give it a try." Happy cheers from beside you quickly turned sour as Adar nuzzled your cheek and kissed the corner of your mouth. It took seconds for her to crawl under the blankets and disappear. "I'm sleeping! You can go now!"

"Come on, my dear wife. Let the child sleep so she can have brothers by morning."

[luvspiece]

A Whisker Away ; Like se usar.

[wyrmlich]

A Whisker Away

(Nakitai Watashi wa Neko wo Kaburu)

[nightmr-wallppr]

Icons a whisker away. 

Follow us on instagram: lockednight.icons. 

[pussy-potions]

𝓱𝓲𝓭𝓭𝓮𝓷 𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓯 𝓳𝓾𝓽𝓼𝓾

sfw seokmin

warnings: fluff and crack

word count: 696

original post date: october 28 2019

“Rasangan!”

“Chidori!”

You snorted from holding back your giggles at the sight of Seokmin and Soonyoung play fighting together while dressed as Naruto and Sasuke. Seokmin’s loud yell echoed down the hall when he “knocked” Soonyoung back a few feet from using rasangan on him.

“I’m never giving up on you Sasuke! I will save you and bring you back to the hidden leaf village no matter what!”

“You’ll never take me alive!”

Your laughter boomed in the hallway when they broke character and started screeching at each other like startled birds, not being able to last a second longer as Seungkwan stopped recording the video. Seungkwan grabbed onto his side, his face turning red from laughing at hard at the older boys. “Stop… I can’t… I’m gonna pee!” Seungkwan managed to say in between his laughter and wheezes of air.

You struggled to stay upright when Seokmin screeched at Soonyoung, who screeched back at him, both with ridiculously hilarious expressions on their face. “Why did I agree to this?” You choked out between gasps of laughter. Letting your head touch the ground, you stayed on your hands and knees until the laughter had died down and a pair of shoes could be seen out of the corner of your eyes.

Looking up, you half smiled seeing Seokmin in front of you, his hands grabbing onto your shoulders and helping you stand up.

“C’mon, I gotta talk to you.”

Seokmin laced his fingers with yours, pulling you down the hallway before he released your hand to wrap his arm over your shoulders and pull you closer to his chest.

“Have I mentioned that I love you?” He whispered against your hairline before he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Because I love you so, so much.”

“What’s got you in a sentimental mood today?”

“Nothing, I just really love you and how you’ll do things like this with me.” He gestured towards your matching costume, his fingers tugging the zipper of the purple sweater to pull you closer before he pressed a kiss to your lips this time.

You sighed against his lips when the hand on your zipper slipped up your throat to cup your cheek while his other hand slid down to hold your hip. “Seokmin someone could see and I don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable,” you quietly moaned against his lips. Heat burned your cheeks as you quickly pulled away and checked to see if anyone was watching you.

Seokmin pouted at you before he kissed the tip of your nose. “Okay but when we get home I want my kisses.” He said as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders and walked down the empty hallway with you while you talked about how good his acting as Naruto was. Looking at him, you licked the pad of your thumb to fix one of the drawn on whiskers that got smudged on his cheek when Seokmin’s ears perked up hearing familiar voices that were further down the hall on your left, right around the corner.

“Shh.”

Seokmin hushed you when he saw Jeonghan talking to Hansol. A mischievous look came upon his face as he tip toed behind the elder boy, keeping a finger over his mouth to sing along Hansol to stay quiet about his scheme. Seokmin slowly dropped to his knees as he mimicked a few hand signs from the iconic anime before he screamed ���Leaf village secret finger jutsu! Thousand years of death,” at the exact same moment he shot his index and middle fingers between Jeonghan’s ass cheeks, sending him about a foot high in the air.

“What the fuck!” Jeonghan screamed while you and Hansol burst into laughter when the oldest boy turned around and gave Seokmin the most intense glare you’ve ever seen. Seokmin scrambled out of Jeonghan’s reach and bolted down the hallway with Jeonghan right behind him.

“Get back here you little shit and let me show you what a thousand years of death will really feel like!”

You and Hansol collapsed against the wall when Seokmin’s screaming could be heard around the corner followed by Jeonghan’s cheering.

“I think you bruised my asshole!”

[misha-moose-dean-burger-lover]

Be Mine, This Quarantine ~ (II)

Dean pulls out his phone, clicks on the camera icon, and takes a selfie.

He looks adequately grouchy in it - his uninterested eyebrow-raise, an indisputable declaration that clicking a picture of himself irritates and annoys him, as it should every respectable non-preadolescent person. Also, he manages to get Cas's apartment building, a little bit of the night sky, and his very last moving box of stuffs, in the frame.

It's labelled 'Socks' on the top, and should make Dean feel like a dork if he wasn't going to send the picture straight to Sam - the dorkier of the two of them, by far, and also someone who's well-acquainted with Dean's fascination for hilarious novelty socks.

No sooner has the message been sent, it's been seen, and Dean's getting a call from his little brother.

"It's dark." Sam greets, with all the subtle pointedness of a soon-to-be-lawyer. "Why is it dark?"

"Are you just staring at your screen, waiting for me to text you all day?" Dean throws back, and Sam makes a noncommittal sound. "And it's dark cause it's almost nine."

"And you're still not done?" Sam sounds surprised.

"Almost," Dean bites his cheek. He has to admit Sam has a point. Moving in's supposed to be a morning, in-the-sun kind of activity. "In my defense, I started late. Cas made me spend all morning at his place, getting to know Catsanova."

"His cat?"

"It's literally in the name, Sammy."

"Hypoallergenic?"

"Do I sound dead to you?" Dean rolls his eyes. "Yeah, she is. And cute, too. Black, and it's got whiskers. Responds to 'Cas'."

"Figures." Sam grins, audibly. Kid's always been an animal person - he's probably going to be asking for pictures all the time now. "It sounds pretty similar. So what, you say Cas, and both the cat and human come up to you?"

"Neither of them come up to me, cause neither of them's fond of moving. Big Cas ignores me until I make it like I'm dying, and Small Cas still doesn't really care." Dean laughs. "But I'm going to try and work up to it."

"Good luck." Sam says to that, before clearing his throat. "You should finish moving your socks in, Dean." There's a pause. "Thank you for listening to me about the quarantine thing, I guess. And staying safe."

Dean's first instinct is to immediately dismiss the sentiment, but then he decides not to. And settles for, "You too, Sammy. And thank you for the move-in-with-Cas advice."

Sam lets out a soft, "Yeah."

"But if you tell me what to do again," Dean adds, right after. "And try to threaten me with cheap flight tickets to Kansas? I'm not fucking giving in."

"And you're welcome for the caring about you." Sam retorts, and Dean rolls his eyes a second time.

"That's my job."

"Yeah, right."

"Just shut your face. Smartass." Dean can't contain his smile, in spite of himself. "Stay inside, okay? I've got Gabriel's eyes on you." That's Cas's stepbrother, also in Stanford, and Dean's not really used him yet - but he really could. Dude's sorta obsessed with Sam.

"I -" Sam huffs. "Jerk."

Dean grins. "Bitch."

The phone clicks, and Sam's gone. Dean picks up the last box - it's pretty light, so he props it on his hip and uses a free hand to slam Baby's door shut, and walks into the building he's going to spend (at least) the next three weeks in.

*

"Pizza's on it's way." Cas says from the couch, first thing as Dean enters and shuts the door behind him, setting the box on the floor.

He can't get a normal greeting fucking ever in these parts - but he doesn't really pay attention to it, because every braincell which isn't involved in keeping him alive and standing, fixates all at once, on the scene which beholds him.

He's obviously seen Cas plenty of times before - probably more keenly than he should've been seeing him, to be fair - but this is different. It's like seeing Cas in his natural habitat.

He's in the middle of the couch - typical roommate-lacking behavior - with bare feet propped up on two of Dean's boxes, like there wasn't any furniture around before Dean moved in. And in his collarless bee-patterned shirt and pyjamas which match the brown throw pillows, it's basically like he's dissolved into the couch under the weight of Catsanova who's settled on his tummy, with his hands around her, petting. His hair's enough of a mess that he could've had a reverse-Jonathan-Van-Ness moment by himself when Dean went downstairs for the last time, and his eyes are glued to the TV screen even when he speaks to Dean, and then proceeds to keep up a soft, toddler-voice conversation with his cat.

Holy shit.

Dean loves him.

This is going to be so hard.

"I changed out of my jeans," Cas adds, not even slightly in Dean's direction, per se. "I know you wanted to go out earlier, but it's Catsanova's dinner time now, and I was wondering if the three of us could just eat together. And watch The Middle." The last part, he directs to Dean, eyes wide and curious.

"Uh." Dean says, eloquently. "Sure."

The Middle's exactly the kind of thing Dean should've expected Cas would watch. It's sappy and sweet, and revolves around a hilariously dysfunctional family, and it's half ways to a sitcom and Dean can clearly imagine them bingeing through all of it - piled on the couch with the cat on Cas's lap, and he's still in the middle cause Dean really doesn't mind squeezing on his left as long as their shoulders brush and knees touch, and they're having pizza and Cas is in ratty graphic tees, and -

Alternatively, this is going to be a little bit perfect.

"I'll go change as well." Dean rubs the back of his neck, scanning the room for his bag which contained a set of clothes in case he got too lazy to unpack. As had happened.

"Are you going to be needing any of these?" Cas draws his attention to the two boxes he's got his feet on, by wiggling his toes.

"Nah." Dean checks the labels. "There won't be any pyjamas in DVDs or Boo -" He stops. That's supposed to be Books. "Boo?" Dean repeats, frowning.

"Catsanova likes scratching letters off of words which make them more adorable. Don't you, Catsanova?" Cas grins, running his hand through her fur as he talks about her. She doesn't really pay attention to it. "Say Boo again for us, Dean."

Dean fails to resist the blush. "Screw you. And do you always say her full name, like, all the time? I get that it's funny - or punny, or whatever," Castiel beams at that bit. "But it's kind of a mouthful."

"An earful, you mean." Cas muses.

Dean shrugs, because he's stuck trying to rein in the overpowering affection he feels for this messy, gorgeous guy, who always addresses his cat by her full name, and lets him move in for quarantine. "Just call her Nova or something. She's smart, she'll get it."

"But her name's Catsanova." Cas clarifies, as if it wasn't clear to Dean before.

"Your name's Castiel, Cas."

"I blame you for that."

"Sure you do, Happy Meal."

Cas scowls, not giving Dean more material to work with, and silently going back to watching the TV. "Spoilsport." Dean grins. "Isn't that what he is, Catsanova?"

She, once again, doesn't pay any real attention to them, but Cas's lips quirk up in a smile. They're done discussing nicknames for the cat apparently, so he moves on. "You can freshen up in my bathroom right now. There's no towels in the other one yet."

"Roger that."

Dean picks up his duffel and sets off for Cas's room. He's been to this apartment plenty of times, before. On his way, he passes what's going to be his room - previously, Cas's study slash storage, and takes a detour.

It's the same size as Cas's room, with smaller windows and grey curtains, and looks pretty comfortable, though Dean's more of a spend-all-day-in-the-living-room sorta guy. It's got wardrobes and shelves, for when it's morning and Dean resumes the elaborate routine of unpacking, and a desk at the side, and - oh, fucking hell.

Dean flings his duffel on the chair, which is the only place to sit in the entire room, - and marches out. "Cas!"

For once, even Catsanova reacts to him, jumping down from Cas, and Cas looks downright alarmed when Dean storms into the living room. "What happened?"

"Where the hell's your futon?"

"Oh." Cas pauses. Dean waits, impatiently for an answer, which seems to come to Cas fairly quick, bringing in its wake, a horrified expression of remembrance. "I lent it to Kelly."

"Then," Dean fixes Cas with an accusing glare. If he were standing, that would've been a finger jabbed at his chest. "Where the hell am I going to sleep?"

"Oh."

"Well?"

Cas blinks. And quietly declares - for the benefit of Catsanova, probably, because the two humans already know, and are staring at each other in despair. "I may not have completely thought this through."

*

"I call right."

"Right-now-right, or on-the-bed-right?" Cas confirms, voice coming in from the bathroom where he's brushing his teeth.

"You're on my right when we're sleeping." Dean declares, stifling a scowl. It's not like he's trying to be rude, but he really hadn't expected any of this. He hasn't expected to finish moving in at nine, and dinner at ten, and then proceed to sleep in Cas's bed for the first night he's here.

("I'm so sorry, this is completely on me -" Cas had kept apologizing, with blue eyes in full-on Bambi stare. "I can't believe I forgot about giving away the futon! I'm such a -"

"Whatever, Cas." Dean had frowned back, rolling his eyes. "S'not that big a deal. I'll take the couch."

"Of course not." Cas had looked horrified. "It's cold out here, and my couch is too small - it's just a three-seater. You're way taller than three horizontal butts, plus twice the armrest." Dean had given him a look for that one, and if he wasn't annoyed, he would've been laughed.

"So?"

"You're obviously sleeping in my bed."

"Well, you're taller than three butts too." Dean had sighed, still annoyed - but it slowly subsiding to some sort of thrill which was definitely associated with getting to sleep in Cas's bed.

"I know." Cas had sighed back, a little grim. "I'll just sleep with you.")

Now, Cas exits the bathroom, and walks straight to the bed, setting the pillows right. It's a King-size, so they're going to have enough space, really, but Dean's a little skeptic about getting under the covers first. So instead of climbing on his side, and settling in like his body really wants to, he lingers around, rummaging through his bag even though he has everything he needs.

His phone's plugged in next to his bed, and he's just in a t-shirt and pajamas now. Sure, he usually sleeps in just his boxers, but he has a fair idea of how ridiculous that'd be when Cas, right next to him, sleeps in a full, adorable ensemble.

And that's the last time he's letting himself think Cas - or his bee-themed outfits are adorable.

"I'm going to go put Catsanova to bed." Cas announces, with a smile. "To couch, to be honest. She sleeps inside the couch and I think she likes to think it's her very own hiding spot."

"So that's why I'm not sleeping there?" Dean throws back, stifling a yawn. Somehow, it's eleven, and that's not exactly late, but on a day you've moved into your best friend's apartment, and made friends with his moody cat, it feels pretty late. "Cause the three-butt analogy wasn't your best move, buddy."

"You guessed it." Cas returns, flatly. "I made us sleep in the same bed so that Catsanova's sleep routine didn't get disrupted. Now, how about you actually sleep, Dean?" There's one of those I-know-more-than-you-think-I-do smiles on his face. "You're clearly tired."

"'M not sleeping without you." Dean can't hold in the yawn this time, and it comes out garbling the last bits of his sentence and causing Cas to stare at him in a horrified kind of fascination.

"Before you." He corrects, his cheeks burning, when he actually hears himself. "That'd just be weird."

"Not at all," Cas shrugs. "But sure. Just come with me to Catsanova's night couch."

"Whose couch is it in the morning?"

Cas doesn't really think about it. "Hers, though she settles for indirect use of it's luxury, via our laps."

Dean nods thoughtfully, and follows Cas to the living room. The cat is already all fed, of course, and doesn't really seem keen on playing with them - probably because, and Cas told him this once, cats tended to have bedtime installed in their cat brains. Dean may or may not think that's adorable.

Catsanova curls up in the middle of the couch, much like her (nick)-namesake, and Dean's breath hitches when with a slight purr, puts her head on her paws. She's not a kitten, Cas had mentioned, but she's still so small, that she fits on just one cushion, and with her tail drawn up close, and squinting eyes, she's the cutest thing Dean's ever seen.

"Isn't this somehow better than even the best youtube cat videos?" Cas whispers, eyes turned adoringly at his cat.

"I don't watch -"

Cas gives him a look.

"Okay, yeah, I do, and it is." Dean gives in, rolling his eyes at being called out. "Maybe not better than the kitten falling asleep in the middle of dinner though."

Cas raises his eyebrows, impressed. "You're not wrong."

"But a close second?" Dean offers.

Cas smiles, softly, straight at Dean. He's sitting cross-legged on the floor, with hands around his ankles, and Dean's on the low settee behind him, staring at both the cat and Cas, lazily smiling too.

It feels perfect. In fact, he's so physically exhausted and mentally blissed out that in the moment, that he's not even freaking out about the fact that after this, he and Cas are going to go sleep in the same bed.

(In his right senses, he would've been. When it got suggested - or pretty much, declared, he couldn't have put up a big argument, because if Cas could be so cool about it, how weird would it have been if he wasn't? Why shouldn't he be, indeed?

Except for the fact that he's in love with Castiel and growing increasingly aware of it as the day lives by, there's absolutely no other reason, he's sure.

So after a few weakly presented excuses, including his insistance that it isn't necessary - "Dean, of course it is!" - and bringing back the couch solution - "Dean, why would you sleep on the couch for my mistake?" - he'd given in.

He just couldn't come around to the point that he really isn't sure he'll be able to survive being next to Cas on a bed for an entire night, and figures that it didn't occur to Cas either.

Because of course it fucking didn't.)

"Okay, then." Cas lets out, standing up from the ground swiftly, though Dean holds a hand out. His voice holds a tinge of we're done here, like a superhero in a mission, and Dean grins, in spite of himself. "Let's go."

Since 'putting Catsanova to bed' apparently only includes sitting in front of the couch and staring at her in adoration while she falls asleep and eventually snuggles so close to the back of the couch that she ends up rolling inside, as Dean has now learned, Dean gets up too.

"How'd you like it?" Cas sounds proud.

"Her sleep routine? She did all of it herself." Dean tells him, as the both of them drag themselves to Cas's room. Even Dean knows the house well enough to not have to think about it. "I don't know what I expected, but that wasn't it."

"Did you imagine cuddles and lullabies?" Cas laughs.

"You built it up, buddy."

Cas shrugs nonchalantly, as they reach the bed, and Dean's too tired at this point to even care who's getting in first. All he notices is when they're both in - Cas half-sitting up, legs stretched out under the comforter, and Dean lying on his side as he speaks to him.

"All you did was watch her sleep." He mutters, not really thinking anymore. Sleep is fast trailing his heels, and well, he's stopped running from it.

"I like watching over her." Cas answers, easily. "And it's a sign of trust that she lets me, to be fair. Cats aren't shy, but -"

"Territorial?"

"I guess."

"Huh." Dean closes his eyes. The pillow under his head is the perfect percentage of soft, and it's warm inside the comforter, as compared to the cold in the room. He pulls it up to his neck, trying to tuck himself in without making it obvious.

There's a pause.

"I didn't want to sleep before because," Dean confesses. "Sometimes you look at me." He likes it, but hopefully that doesn't come out in his voice.

There's a weight shift in the mattress, as Cas lies down too. Straight on his back, hand curved above his head, staring at the ceiling.

"It's weird." Dean mumbles. "Kinda."

Cas says, "Okay." But Dean's already asleep, slightly huffing when he exhales, and so there's nothing said in return, and Cas reaches to turn off the lap and goes to sleep, too.

*

Thing is, falling asleep when you're tired is easy. Staying asleep when you're anxious is not.

Dean blinks awake, with a startled breath, and takes a beat to process his surroundings. Gauging by the darkness in the room, it's a long way till sunrise. He stretches drowsily, an unconscious habit of getting up, and his hand nudges against something.

It feels like muscle, and hair, and turns out to be Cas's forearm, because as soon as his eyes get adjusted to the minimal light - he discovers Cas is right there.

They've both migrated towards the middle in their sleep - more Cas than him, Dean assumes quickly, and are still facing each other. When Dean draws his hand back, folding it under the comforter again, there's a few inches between them everywhere - yet suddenly, he's extremely awake, and aware, and losing it.

Cas is quietly asleep, features completely free of tension - with his face smoothed over in sleep, and lips slightly parted. He's unfairly beautiful, and practically a head-jerk away from Dean's pillow, and it's crazy how much it's all getting to Dean.

Even asleep, he's driving Dean nuts.

He doesn't even know what he wants to do - keep staring at this picture of serenity, force himself back to sleep, or something entirely different, but was he does is turn around.

He turns a hundred eighty degrees, keeping his eyes closed, and finds himself facing Cas's bookshelf.

The easiest way to deal with this burst of emotion is to sleep, he convinces himself, and maybe he'll forget about this in the morning. Maybe he'll fall asleep trying to read the titles of the books in front of him, and forget about waking up to Cas in front of him, dreamy even when dreaming, and forget about being overpowered by just about everything in that moment, as he is right now.

He just needs to go back to sleep.

Dean's repeated this to himself enough times to actually be drifting off to sleep, when he feels an arm randomly fall around his waist.

Jesus fucking Christ.

Cas, still asleep, has apparently decided to put his hand around Dean as if he were a fluffy stuffed toy or something, and it's landed ridiculously close to his abdomen, and his toes curl, and he squeezes his eyes shut.

And if Dean inadvertently pushes back towards the warmth radiating from Cas, and ends up little-spooning him because he's somehow backed up until he's reached Cas - then that's just a whole other thing he's never going to think about.

He finally goes back to sleep, not having to try and read the book titles at all, because apparently Cas hugging Dean to himself like a goddamn pillow, is all his fucking insomniac brain's ever needed.

(Although, he's never sharing a bed with Cas again, because he's sure he couldn't survive another such night.)

*

Catsanova wakes Cas up at six, meowing stubbornly at the door because she doesn't care about Dean's private, middle-of-the-night freakout as long as Cas gets up to pay her due attention, and Dean wakes alone at nine, and ends up pretending he's asleep until Cas comes with coffee.

He doesn't look at Dean different or at all, while climbing on bed with the tray - and Dean definitely doesn't notice that he doesn't, because he's obviously not paying attention.

And he obviously doesn't care.

[stellar-alley]

Everfalls

•Chapter 20•

This is based off of the artwork by oceanteeeth on Instagram!

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

(Summary: Richie and Eddie spend their first full moon together.)

Second Last Chapter!

~

Breathless, that’s what they were. Eddie and Richie physically couldn’t hold it in anymore. They had waited far too long and the moon's power was too strong to hold back any longer.

Eddie guided Richie away from the cliff’s edge. Once they were a safe distance away from the drop, they both fell onto the grass, breathless.

“W-What do we do?” Bill asked. The rest of the Losers still stood in formation, but now they were not prepared to fight. Now they were concerned about their friends.

“Go” was all Eddie could say, his eyes never leaving Richie’s tired corpse.

Stan nuged Bill, tilting his head towards town as if to tell him they should start heading back. So without another word the Losers left the Ancestors in peace.

“Okay Rich, you still there? You’ve got this'' Eddie tried to smile through the pain of both his own transformation and having to watch Richie go through his. Eddie had carefully pulled Richie’s shirt off, but let Richie do the rest as dressing down was an essential part of the werewolf transformation. Shifting with clothes only made things more complicated.

Dark fur that matched his ears and tail had appeared over his body as his finger nails grew and came to a sharp point. His bones were moving, snaping and changing. His eyes snapped open at the feeling of a hand on his back. His bright yellow eyes darted up to meet the icey blue ones of his boyfriend who stared at him with such love and adoration.

“You’re okay Richie, it’s almost done” Eddie assured him. But all he got as a response was a loud groan as another wave of pain hit Richie.

The final part was the most painful but the quickest. And it really did hurt like hell.

The following minute felt the same way that it does after a storm. The rain had stopped and the thunder was silenced. Richie laid on the cool grass, panting heavily but his bones had finally adjusted, and the pain had subsided.

His eyes fluttered open to see Eddie, still human. “Holly shit” Eddie practically gasped as Richie looked around at what caused the sudden shock.

He looked down and saw big brown, furry paws, his paws. Immediately Richie attempted to stand, but inevitably tripped and fell back down. That got a giggle from Eddie. After trying, Richie stood up on his all fours, his full wolf form. He didn’t look much different from a normal wolf, he was the size of a large dog. With thick dark brown fur and his iconic yellow eyes. His wolf ears were a bit bigger and a little harrier, while his tail was longer and fluffier.

Eddie stood up beside him and he was able to see that Richie was about hip level compared to the human Ancestor.

Richie desperately craved to make a height joke but ultimately couldn’t speak as he was, a wolf.

Eddie bent down and ruffled the fur between Richie’s ears. Something he had done to his boyfriend countless times before when he was human. Richie shook his head as if to get rid of Eddie’s hand. Eddie huffed, but he still smiled.

Carefully Eddie bent down and placed his forehead against Richie’s. The thick fur tickled his forehead as he smiled. Eddie’s long bunny ears tipped forward and brushed up against Richie’s wolf ears, sending a shiver down his back.

A moment passed before a wave of pain hit Eddie, he doubled backwards, falling onto his back. Richie rushed to his side, nudging his arm with his snout as Eddie rolled over.

Transforming on a full moon was fairly similar to the way Eddie transformed normally, except it was forced, causing more pain. Once Eddie was on his back he curled his knees into his chest and wrapped his arms around himself. The pain soon intensified as he felt the magic ripple through his body. It was all worth it as after a flash, Eddie had completed his transformation.

Richei stared down at the rabbit that stood before him. He had completely forgotten how cute his boyfriend was as a rabbit. His soft white fur, his little red nose and his wittle paws! Aw Richie would give anything to go back to the day where it was just them, alone, in the school yard. Eddie as a rabbit in Richie’s lap. But now isn't the time to reminisce on the past. It was the full moon, and they had both finally transformed. Richie was practically bouncing up and down as excitent coursed through his veins.

Eddie looked up at the hulking wolf figure that towered over him. Dear God, Richie is like a massive puppy. Richie stepped forward, bowed his head and bopped his big brown nose against Eddie’s small pink one, just like he had before.

Eddie had refrained from transforming just long enough to be able to help Richie through his transformation and give him some good pets. He deserved it after all the shit he had been through.

Eddie mentally blushed. He mentally smirked as he noticed Richie’s ears twitching with excitement and adrenaline. That's when Eddie thought of what to do next, as it was the full moon, he knew what made him feel the best so he nudged Richie paw as if to tag him. Then, they ran.

~

Finally, being a full wolf felt amazing. Richie felt like the world had finally lifted off of his shoulders. It was as if he had unlocked another part of his being that he had never been able to access until he finally fully shifted.

Also the fact that he didn’t have to experience it alone made him feel so much better. Eddie made him feel so safe, so accepted. He didn’t have to hide his secret. For once in his life he felt almost normal.

At first Richie was a little wobbly in his new wolf form. He had to get used to running on all fours. Richie fell a few times, tripped over his own paws, and at one point stopped and chased his tail like a puppy. (Eddie nearly died of laughter while watching that) Also there was the whole no speaking thing, which just kinda led to a lot of inner monologuing and weird wolf noises.

The two walked along to shoreline, paws sinking in the moist sand under their weight. Ricchie leaned over and pushed Eddie into the oncoming wave. The bunny rolled over at the push and landed in the water on his back. He let out a huff before he leaped back up and tackled richie, pinning him to the ground.

Silly wolf, doesn't even know his own strength. Eddie laughed in his head. Suddenly Eddie was popped off of Richie, tossed into the air, landing face first into the wet, cold sand.

Richie sat up, panting mancially as if he were laughing at the sand that was caught in Eddie’s whiskers.

Oh, you’re so on, Eddie smirked before he charged Richie.

The wolf caught on just before he was tackled, quickly turning and sprinting in the other direction. But Eddie was lighter and has had more time to learn and master his abilities. So he easily caught up to the young wolf. Eddie leaped into the air, landed on the wolf’s back and brought him down to the ground. The two rolled around as if they were in a fit of laughter. Which they would've been if they could talk.

Afterwards they made their way closer to town. Richie had once joked about terrorizing the villagers, and now he intended to do it. They examined the town as they carefully krept up the hill. It was well past midnight so most if not all of the lights from the buildings were out. The streets were illuminated by a couple street lamps, which allowed just enough light to navigate through the town but didn’t cause enough light pollution to block out the stars.

They approached the town with caution, their movements quiet and slow. One paw after another. They stopped dead in their tracks at the muffled sounds of teenage laughter.

Shit who the hell is out at this time of night? Richie’s ears perked up as he tried to pick up what they were saying.

“Do you think that’s them?” One voice that sounded pretty damn familiar giggled.

“Eddie’s so much smaller than him-”.

“It’s so cute!”

The Ancestors looked up to find a group of teens loitering suspiciously behind one of the dark buildings. It seemed almost as if they were waiting for the Ancestors.

Richie bent down and nudged the side of his head up against Eddie’s. Then nodded towards the group before stepping forwards towards them. Slowly they made their way up to the Losers who stayed silent during the meantime.

“H-How can we be suh-suh-sure it’s them?” Bill whispered tentatively. He stood behind the group, his form tense.

“What other wolf hangs out with a rabbit?” Ben turned to Bill with a confused look on his face.

Without another word, Beverly bent down to be at eye level with the wolf. She kept her gaze stern and serious. She stared into the wolf’s yellow eyes and watched as they examined her. Beverly didn’t flinch as the wolf stepped closer to her, then proceeded to bow his head to her. But when he raised his head, he butted her boob with the tip of his snout.

Beverly let out a shock yet amused gasp. “Oh my god, Richie you perv!” She fell back onto her butt in a fit of giggles. “That's our trashmouth alright” she declared.

Richie sat down and nodded his head at the statement.

Bill followed Beverly’s lead and kneeled down beside Eddie. The human carefully examined the bunny’s white fur and long ears. Finally his eyes met Eddie’s and he knew. He’d know those eyes anywhere.“Y-Yeah. It’s them” Bill confirmed.

“Well… I was gonna wait to give this to you tomorrow. But considering today’s events, now seems like a good time” Stan explained as he began rifling through his pocket.

The others shot him curious stares until he let out a little ‘aha’ when he had finally found it. What Stnaley pulled out of his pocket changed the energy of the group, from quiet and tense it went to curious and excited.

Stan squeaked the yellow rubber chicken. It let out a quick Eh Err, squeak like sound. In the moment that followed Stan mirrored one of Richie’s shit eating smiles smiles that he knew all too well.

“Oh my god- Seriously” Mike chuckled, placing a hand on Stan’s shoulder.

Richie stared at Stan, rolled his eyes and let out a huff.

Good one Staniel, very fucking funny

The wolf glanced over at his bunny and noticed the way his little pinked nose twitched, similar to the way Eddie’s did when he was laughing in his human form. That made things just a little bit better.

Richie’s attention was brought back to the Losers when Stan squeaked the chicken again.

“Wanna play fetch boys?” He arched an eyebrow deviously.

Richie didn’t respond, he simply stared aimlessly at them. Eddie got up and took a couple steps back, he turned to look at Stan as if to say, Well come on!

Stan took a step back and moved his hand up, preparing to throw. With one swift toss over his head, he threw the chicken, and it went far. Stan was on the baseball team after all, so he finally got to put his skills to work.

Eddie gave Richie one finale glance, challenging him almost, then he bolted.

Richie hesitated, he looked between his friends, and the rabbit. Just as Eddie was leaving the reach of the town’s light Richie got up and chased after him. He ran through the long grass, paws pounding against the dirt as he let his instincts lead him to the chicken.

Before he even got there a flash of white shot past him. Richie did a double take, spinning to turn around and watch as the rabbit zoomed back up to the group. He didn’t need to take time like he had before to know to go after him. So before another moment passed, Richie went. He ran.

Word Count: 2038

Second last chapter, done. Holy shit guys I cannot belive next week is already the finale! This is so wild. But let's focus on the present, it's Friday again, yay! I hope you guys have a great weekend and take some time to relax okay? I know life can be really stressfull right now so take some time for yourself, read a good fan fic, vibe, play Among Us, damn that's a good game lol.

And as always don't forget to like, comment, tell all your friends and go check out my other stuff! If you wanna see more of my IT fan fics, check me out on Archive Of Our Own @stellar-alley!

That's all from me guys, until next time

So Long and Goodnight.

~

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[boogiewrites]

Choking On Sapphires 92

Characters: Alfie Solomons x Genevieve (OFC)

Title & Song: Love Her Madly

Summary:  Alfie and Genevieve sign a contract together. Alfie finds a nostalgic turn to the air between them as they negotiate with less than professional means. They whisper about their future together, but it seems others have much louder opinions about it they want to be heard.

Warnings/Tags: FLUFF. Sexual Content. Negotiations. Old Enemies, New Problems. 

Click on my icon then go to my Mobile Masterlist in my bio for my other works and chapters. (Had to do this since Tumblr killed links, sorry.) Please like, comment and reblog if you enjoyed it! It helps out us writers A LOT!

Everyone around them noticed the change. The sway to Alfie's stride was a strong strut, masculine as he headed to breakfast every morning. His laugh loud and brash, his threats sharp and cutting, an air of confidence and content reigned in the home and all who lived there felt it.

Genevieve was a soft wave of femininity, hair and face pressed and painted, dresses now modest and structured, not giving away so much of her flesh when she was working. Her strong calves and still scared but bejeweled forearms were the only skin shown besides her face. She was in control, pointed and severe for the world, and happily soft and kind to those she deemed worthy of it. She would hold Alfie's chin to grab his attention. The only soul who dared to do so. His whiskers would bristle as she kissed him and wished him a productive day, saying quietly to him that she loved him. She spoke only loud enough for him to hear, but anyone with the gift of sight could see it between them.

Alfie was softer at home now, finding his way directly to his bride to be every evening. She was still hard outside the bedroom to the gaze of any eyes but his own. But her glimmer was back when they would allow their sighs to escape as they pressed against one another in the sanctuary of their bedroom. He didn’t mind the harshness. He rather enjoyed her directness, in fact. Which is why when she showed up to his office for a meeting in an oddly familiar dress, he was more than surprised. It was clear quickly from her body language, there was a shift in her attitude. Her eyes were dark and sultry in a way he hadn’t seen in many moons. There was a playful young thing waiting to come out behind a closed door and he was happy to oblige.

“Is this my noon appointment?” Alfie rhetorically asks, eyeing her from tip to tail as she stood outside his office. She was in something he’d only seen her wear once and had never expected to see again. She looked at no one but him as she posed in jewels that shone even in the dim dusty warehouse. A flimsy polka dot dress with her matching accessories, cut at the knee and far tighter around the bust and waist than he recalled. The buttons strained against her breasts and he pretended not to notice.

“Well uh... yes.” Ollie answers confused at the way they were looking at one another. “It’s Miss Durand.”

“I know it is Ollie ya fuckin' knob. Learn to read a room.” He points an easily agitated and ink-stained finger his way. “Go read the papers while I work out this contract. Make yourself useful.”

“Yes, sir.” He shuffled off defeated.

“Don’t be too hard on the man, not everyone can speak without conversation as we can.” Gen soothes with soft words after Ollie rounds a corner.

“He needs to fuckin' learn.” Alfie muttered and turned to enter his office. “Got the contracts drawn up.” He announced with a boom of importance, followed with a hum or worrying lips as she shuts the door behind her. The mood set as the door clicks is thick, unchanged in the time that had passed since it's inception. A power struggle of business laced with the nostalgia of sexual tension unexplored.

“Straight to business Mr. Solomons. I appreciate that in a man.” She praised as she took her glasses that match his own out of her handbag to place them on her straight nose both gingerly and with a flare of drama. As was her way.

He squinted his eyes, her behaving as if she wasn’t being even mildly suspicious. “Yeah…” he groaned out, and drank in any sign of her possible tells. “Here it is... Miss Durand.” He tapped a ringed finger to the parchment pushed across his desk. “But you can call me Alfie if ya like.” A smile she had seen behind that desk over a year ago awaits her as she meets his confident gaze. Reservation with an undertone of wild possibility sat behind his blue eyes. Same as the first time, she didn’t know if she should shoot him or fuck him.

She smiled with a coy crooked raise of her lip, “Then you may call me Genevieve.” Her breathy response reached his pink-tipped ears. He picked up on her game and the twinkle in her eye as he leaned back in his chair to observe her with his trademark intrusive stare. She had sorely missed having a partner she could play with.

“S’all there. Give it a read. My lawyers made it legitimate.” He studied her as she did just that and is pleasantly surprised when her expression remained unmoved. She truly had been working on her stone face.

“Of course.” She dismissed his instruction with a curt tone as she began. She expected a joke, to be honest. For him to create a negotiation, be that tough bastard and toy with her a bit. But alas, there was a surprise in the words but it wasn’t a joke. “I come here with cheeky intentions and you do this to me?” She inquired, a subtle smirk ghosted across his face at her accusations.

“It’s a binding, legal contract Miss Durand. I’m not sure what you aren’t finding up to your, understandably, high standards.” His words were fast and even.

“I know you make no mistakes in writing these up and this is not one.” She states to assure herself, shaking her head and pressing forward. “Are you quite serious?” She spoke quietly after finding his face unmoved.

“I don’t joke wif business, you should know 'is.” He lowered his chin and gave her an almost cocky brow for having gotten the drop on her.

“A percentage of profits from the items that require my goods?” She paused as she met his inquisitive stare as she rose from her seat. “And the inclusion of my name into the business as a shareholder.” She states, leaving one finger on the paper that now rested lopsided on the desk. She wouldn’t forget the giving terms and she didn’t have to look to recall them.

“Thought it was fair.” A shrug is given in response, his seat creaked as he shifted his weight back.

“It is.” She nodded with narrowed eyes and a curious face.“You’re writing me into your business?” She clarified.

“All legal and bindin’.” He reiterated with a nod and open hands.

“I’d be a beneficiary?”

“Are ya confused Miss Durand? With your circular questions? Doesn’t suit you if ya don’t mind me sayin’.”

“Are you quite serious?” She rose and began a slow walk to his side of the desk, her expression only giving away the confusion and not her intention for the growing closeness.

“Repetitive questions are very telling of the state of shock your in.” He smirked. “I don’t fuck about with me money, love, I’m entirely serious.”

“I am shocked.” She nodded confidently. “ I am woman enough to admit it.”

“Consider it a merger.” He offered as he watched her move closer. A slinking cat in her tight dress. “A partnership.”

“Beyond betrothal?” She stopped and rested her hip against his side of the desk.

“The first gift of many.” He added with a shake of his head and a sweep of his hands. “It’s simple. You’ve given me a lot of goods. I believe you’d be a good fit for helpin’ me out with the bakery, let me focus on the tracks. I won’t have to oversee it if I know you’re handling it.” He spoke with his usual brash bite as he did with business while she stood with crossed arms and a thoughtful composition.

“I’ve never ran a bakery before.” She submitted as her eyes moved about the room.

“You know as much as any baker I’ve got. The rest, the girls can teach ya. You know the best ingredients in the city and how to get them for the best price. It’ll only be beneficial to both of us if you’re up for it. And it is my belief that you are. It wouldn’t be a time suck. Couple times a week, mark the problems, do the books, send it to me to finalize.” He moved his hand toward the contract as he explained.

He watched the acceptance move across her face. He knew she’d find it more than fair and hoped she’d see the sentiment behind it. “You really want to write me in like this?” Her voice a shade softer than before.

“Course. Why the fuck not? You’re the best businesswoman I know.” He stated obviously. “Why buy from outside sources that aren’t as good when I have you right here?” He motioned with his hands to her body and gave her a supportive nod.

“Flattery Mr. Solomons.” She gave him a much softer smile.

“It’s gotten me far.” he nodded, a smile only she could sense invitingly resting on his full lips.

She gave him a brief up and down, work clothes with their usual dusty and billowy nature against his body in recline. She moved to take the pen from the desk and positioned herself between his legs, bending over in front of him and signing the contract with her signature feminine flair.

“Now 'is is….” He stared at her round arse draped in soft fabric. “Less than professional acceptance.” He groaned out with his underlying playful tone obvious to her.

“Do you mind if I respond in a way that’s unprofessional?” she asked as she restedd her hands on the desktop and let him gawk.

“I’d prefer it.” he grunted with a raised brow.

“How long did you have this meeting down for Mr. Solomons?” She asked as she took her hair down and he felt his nostrils flare as he saw her feminine proportions modeled so closely to his itching hands.

“Half an hour.”

“I think we can work within that don’t you?” She gave a smirk he could not see but turned to reveal a thoroughly amused expression looking down at him.

“I’ll work wif any time frame ya got for is love.” He almost growls, putting his hands on her waist to gives it a squeeze.

She slides her fingers, intertwined with his as she tugs him gently closer, moving his hands to her bum. “I think for something like this a little celebration is in order.” Her tone is confident as she moves a heeled foot up onto the arm of his chair, her flared skirt only teasing him with her stocking covered knee.

“Ya know I love celebratin' a good deal.” He responds with hands that slide from her cheeks to her thighs and rest there with a soft back and forth.

“Is this how you would’ve preferred our first negotiation to have gone?” She asked with a tilt of her head, looking innocent enough but the buttons on her top strained as she leaned back onto the desk.

“THAT'S where I know ‘is dress from, yeah?” He nodded with enthusiasm.

“It is.” She answers slowly and rubs her fingers through the longer bits of hair at the crown of his head.

“Don’t remember it being quite this tight last time.” He teased, both his hands move to cup her heavy breasts in the light linen fabric.

“Oh, piss off.” She jabs and ruffles his hair with a playful shake of his head.

“That is NOT a complaint. Lemme make that perfectly fuckin' clear.” He squeezes and plays, hands rubbing up her ribs to give the girls a good solid wobble.

“Crystal.” She hums and accepts the pawing grip at her body. “I thought it fit to wear this to have a bit of fun, living in sin before we’re married. I can be the newcomer Genevieve Durand, and you are the well established and infamous Alfie Solomons.”

“Again, not a complaint…” He begins with a more serious brow. “But where did this come from? Ya’ve been so serious as of late, pet.”

“Thought some reminiscing might be timely and nice. A touch of cheeky indulgence in the middle of the day for us both?” Her fingers keep stroking his head, scratching his beard as he enjoys the feeling of her soft hands doting on him. “Perhaps a nice escape? I get to play a role, and so do you, act out what we both wanted deep down the first time around?”

“And what exactly is it that you want to do to me Miss Durand?” His eyes were issuing a challenge and she was woman enough to answer.

“I think to get a proper feel for your taste for the Abeille Company you should try some of my honey from the source.” Her voice was breathy and soft, fingers slowly pulling up the hem of her dress and showing him her inner thigh as his hands ran up along the backside of them. “I’d also like a demonstration of just how talented that wicked mouth of yours is. I’ve heard you’re such a cunning linguist, Mr. Solomons.” She rests back on her hands and lets his hands explore her soft thighs, fingers tracing the upper binding of her stockings as she looks down at him proudly for her cheeky words.

“I ‘ave been told I have a gift for it. I’d love to give ya a demonstration. Only makes sense we share our skill sets yeah?” He places a single kiss to her bent knee and sighs at the contact. It was good to be reminded that she could, in fact, have fun and be a bit childish. When it was appropriate and with her Alfie love of course.

“I did have the funniest feeling in the pit of my stomach while bartering with you.” His nose ruffles up her skirt like a curious pup, making his way to her silk knickers. “Similar to the one I’m having now.” She smiles and keeps her hand on his head, feeling his soft dark gingery hair run between her fingers. She feels his warm mouth press against her silk-covered center, comforting and arousing all the same.

“Let me see ya love. Gonna wanna remember ‘is.” He speaks quietly but she feels the grit of his need in his voice as it vibrates off her lips. With confident hands, he pulls down her knickers and pushes her knees apart to sit her back on the desk. With a peppering of eager kisses, he reveals her soft pink center by pushing her skirt back over her hips. He says nothing, a bitten lip and dark eyes speaking enough as his fingertips trace and tease her. He plucks the buttons from her top half to reveal more full body in rounds of waves as each moves her breasts closer to release. A show begins for her, a man enamored worshipping at the altar of his love. Mouthfuls of her weighted and now freed tits reverberate as he moans into her flesh. His thumb swipes over her clit, a slickness already aiding him from her own impatience.

He feels her relax and soften beneath his touch. Something she’d been more easily achieving every time they were intimate now, which was becoming a very welcome habit at night for Alfie's heart, but not so much his knees. It was mostly hands and mouths, him taking the lead and pleasing his betrothed how he believed a man should. Her tendency to allow him to lead her through it and lay back and take whatever he gave made her behavior this afternoon particularly surprising.

With his plush lips nestled between her thick and soft ones, attached and lapping, nursing away at her clit her hands hold his head. She scratches up his back, messing up his hair as he works away at her with small nods of his head as she held her knees wide apart for him. She gets to watch him work at her, tongue as pink as her folds and showing its expertise in making her feel good. The shades in the glass widows give them more privacy but the dust in the air makes the sepia light filter through dimly. Making the red in his hair more prominent as she enjoys fussing with it. “I don’t know if you’re a better negotiator or lover, Alfie.” She exhales with shut eyes and a panting mouth.

Although he could exist just fine without it, he did love hearing the praise from someone’s who’s opinion he held in the highest of esteem.

“That wicked, wicked tongue.” She mewled, he groaned and held fast to her thighs. “That tongue has won me over time and time again, Solomons.” Her head falling back as her hands grip into his messy crown of hair. “But I'd like to seal this negotiation with my favorite instrument of yours.” He grunts in amusement as he looks up at her with boyishly eager eyes.

“Would that be me mind?” He asks as he wipes his beard on her inner thighs with messy kisses.

“You’ve already charmed me with your cleverness darling now let me charm you in that throne of yours.” She pushes his shoulder back with her heel and he happily obeys. He leans back, hips pushed out in his relaxed position as she moves to her knees slowly.

“Ah fuck sweetie ya ain’t gotta-“

“It’s been too long, Cheri.” The dark upward turn of her eyes and her low deep tone were enough to stop him as she palmed him through his trousers, moving with a subtle smirk to free him. “Let me remember what a handful you are Mr. Solomons.” She speaks as if conducting business still, taking his rapidly hardening cock into her hands with loose and doting strokes. “Your reputation precedes you.” She coos and kisses his leaking tip. “Heard Alfie Solomons was hard to handle, biggest bollocks of any man in London. Hard. Head… strong.” She leaves another lingering kiss, lips ghosting over the underside of him. “May I present my offer for these negotiations Mr. Solomons?” She was toying with him and the playfulness in her eyes he welcomed. It’d been so long since he’d seen it.

“Yes, please do.” He moans, pushing back a curtain of black hair from her face. “Show me what you’re bringin' to the deal, love.” He rasps out as she takes him into her mouth. A feeling of fullness and closeness she’d missed floods her. The control was a delightful rush as his hands stayed on his chair arms and she worked him with both of hers. The swears begin, the familiar tension in her neck and the moans of exertion and enjoyment all fall back into place. She might’ve been the one on her knees, but it was clearly Alfie who was the one losing control. With a familiar twitch in his veins against her sensitive lips she pulls off him, a quick and precise swish of hair to the side with a hiked up skirt catches him off guard.

“Time for your counteroffer Solomons.” A wicked smile on her face as she slowly jerks and lowers herself onto him, a position of power as she straddled him in the chair. With hands to his shoulders, tits out and in his face, she felt that rush. Oh, to have control again. It made her sigh and swoon, his hands on her, his mouth serving her eagerly. She had a gangster at her beck and call and he was a pup while buried side her, licking and whimpering and eager to please all the same.

“Fuck me, love.” He whispers against heavy pendulous tits that bounce in his face as her thighs burn with the less than familiar use. He forgets the game as she pulls his head back by his hair and uses him. His hands find her hips as she grinds against him.

Genevieve felt her orgasm building, bodies full of friction giving her what she needed, realizing how much she’d missed taking him for a ride, having him beneath her like this. “Fuck, I missed this.” She lets out in an almost whine, hips and chest soft and rippling. “Fuck, I missed you.” She moans out and lowers her head back down to create a small bubble of privacy of her now waist-length hair around them. With her breathing heavy, she pants against his forehead, his hands large and encasing her back as she takes back her power in her old way. There were no bad thoughts as they moaned together, no bad feelings as she felt him fill and stretch her, only deep fondness for the man that could bring this out in her. “I do love your mind... and that filthy mouth... but… your cock should never be undersold.” She lets out a huff of laughter as she wipes her hair from her face, an inner glow of happiness he sees peak through.

Her cheeks flushed pink. Her hair loose and wild with her feminine and full body working itself against his willing one. She looked youthful and content, like he’d seen her after a run in a field of flowers, the lavender smell in the air just the same. “Yours now, Genny.” He manages to get out and she hums at his sentimentality in the midst of play. He knew what she needed, what could power her or drain her and he always delivered with his observant nature. “Brilliant woman like you… knows when she’s got it dunnit she?”

“Yes.” She nods and holds his face. “Your mine Alfie Solomons. Mine. Tell me.”

“Yours, signed in black and white.” She lets our a rolling laugh, a flip of hair and a smile full of teeth as she lets out a school girl squeal and bounces again on him. “Fuckin' hell love ya gonna finish me quick with this lovely little cunt yeah? Been too long I can’t take a ride like 'is like I used to.”

“I’m close Alfie, just… fuck me.” She pleads and he gets to hear crass words from her for the first time in so long. It makes his stomach twitch and his balls tighten. “Give me what I want.”

He takes hold of her hips and makes her grind against him. A play to have her come and give him an extra minute or two of this lusty angel on his lap. “You want it, it’s yours. Long as you’re mine you get what you want yeah?” He grunts through clenched teeth.

“I want you, Alfie.” She moans helplessly, his hand moving her more now than her own hips as they grow weak and stiff for the impending orgasm. “Don’t waste a drop, Solomons, finish inside me. Want every bit of you to be mine.” She lets out without much thought, just hungry for him and the intimacy of abandon she could only feel with him. No one else could make her this way, this safe and secure and loved to let her be free like this. It was an addictive feeling of connectivity that she’d never known before.

“Ya gonna fuckin' get it love, fuck.” He tries to hold back as he feels her tightening around him. A high pitch pant that calls out to every masculine cell of him comes from her swollen lips. As he watches in wonderment of her chest heaving and face becoming so transparent in her feelings as only he can cause, she gasps and begins to shake. “Like fuckin heaven you are yeah?” He kisses her sternum as she tremors and her hips stay steady and grinding, feeling her heartbeat under his lips as she whimpered out his name, only loud enough for him to hear. Her body tenses and swells, a wet mess of both of them on the insides of her thighs as she held his face and kissed him, hips slow and indulgent as they rocked onto his. His hands held her, two calloused palms on each arse cheek, kneading her like the bread he sold upstairs.

“Fuck.” She sighs against his lips as they cool off, a shiver as sweat begins to dry and their hearts slow. “I needed that.” She admits with a relaxed smile.

“Is that how we do deals now?” He asked with a serious face and she lightly slaps him and chuckles.

“Im a fan of it as a business model.” She answers and kisses his forehead as she smooths back his sweaty and fussed hair.

“It’s a good model for adding more Solomons' to the business.” He chuckles as she adjusts his shirt.

“More Solomons'?”

“Yeah, you’re a smart bird ya know staying in like 'is after… keepin' all me in ya like is.” He moves his hands up to her breasts then to her stomach as he speaks. “Recipe for making babies, innit?”

“Ah.” She says with a now knowing nod. “Perhaps.” A coy reply as she raises off him and begins buttoning her top back into place.

“Perhaps?” He scoffs. “Pretty sure there’s only one way to make the little buggers, love.” is his playful answer.

“I know that.” She rolls her eyes. “I just mean... okay? Perhaps as in... if it does… it does?” She shrugs a shoulder casually. “We are to be married soon anyway. Not like having a baby right after marriage is an uncommon sort of thing.”

“It’s not.” He answers simply as he groans and stands, cleaning himself up and shaking out his legs. “Just making sure we’re both on the same page.” He pulls her back in and pushes her hair behind her shoulders. “Didn’t know if you was ready for it yet is all.”

“I am.” She answers softly. “Have been, truly. Not a secret that I wanted to be a mum.”

“True.” He nods. “Ya know I only want to make sure ya doing well. Telling me these sorts of things. No small decision.”

“I think you’re a fine candidate to be a father. Protective, good listener…”

“A fan of full-bodied women with tits that could smother me.” He adds in with a mumble.

It does what he wants and makes her laugh. “They’re going to get so big Alfie. My word. Will I even be able to walk or just topple over?” She teases back.

“I’ll be a proper husband and I’ll hold em up for ya love. Least I can do really.” He offers with a shrug as he cups her chest and feels it move with her laughter.

“After all, you’ll have done it to me.”

“Fuckin' right, love. Wanna watch this belly swell up with me and watch you and the babe grow. Knowing it’s mine… you’re mine… does things to a man.”

“Does things to a woman too.” She smirks. “I want a strong husband to rub my aching feet and rub me down in all my roundness with oils.”

“Oh you won’t keep me hands off that fat arse of yours.” She scoffs and hits his chest and he acts offended. “What? A mum's supposed to have a big bum love! You’re already lookin' like a proper mum with these tits and child bearin' hips. Am I supposed to lie?”

“YES!” She laughs and shoved him and he grabs her back gently and kisses her cheek.

“Ya gorgeous, love.” He offers more sincerely. “And being the greedy bastard I am, the more of you there is the more I get all to meself.”

“There’s that charming tongue again. What a fool I am for it.” She rolls her eyes and sighs, feeling swept away in his charm like a young girl.

“And thank fuck for that.” He says genuinely as he gives ticking kisses to her neck and ears with his whiskers. “What else has an old fucker like me got going for him?” He taunts.

“This meeting was only for half an hour and I’m afraid there’s not enough time left for me to cover them all.” She says with pouting lips that were only a bit patronizing.

He opens his mouth and side-eyes her and gives her a groan. “Oh ya little-C’mere.” He growls and squeezes her tight as she lets out laughs and sighs at his childish behavior. But the break in all seriousness is truly what she needed, a service he provided exclusively for her.

As their lives always do, everything around them keeps moving even as they take small moments to be still and get lost in one another. They part, new contract signed and not being the only thing to remind them of this joining for the day. Besides at the bat mitzvah, there had been no formal announcement of their official coupling. Word traveled fast for people like them, so they figured there was no point in making a fuss about it. The news quickly spread and there were the concerned glances from women who did not know the true Genevieve when she was asked about the truth of the rumors. Alfie, however, was praised for his luck and getting a wealthy and pretty woman, the only insinuation dared in the men’s eyes who mentioned it being of he was sure he wanted to settle.

After an afternoon of business and personal errands, Genevieve arrives in a cheerful mood back home. After their encounter in the early part of the day, it wasn’t entirely uncharacteristic of Alfie to send her flowers, since her abduction he had made it a point to be softer and more affectionate with her in the same ways.

“There was no sender.” Claire proclaimed as she looks up from her papers in her hands, feet tucked under her in the large chair.

“When did they arrive?”

“Before tea.”

“Curious.” Genevieve whispers.

“How so?”

“I hadn’t had my appointment with Alfie yet.” She answers.

“Are they from him? Thought they could’ve been celebratory for the engagement.”

“Normally I would agree... but Alfie always sends cards and a congratulatory sending should have one as well.”

“An oversight perhaps?” Claire shrugs.

“Hmmmm.” Gen hummed. “Hyacinth’s though…” She shook her head. “Very curious choice for such a thing.” She chewed her lip and studied the bouquet. “And in yellow.”

“Forgive my ignorance of the poetic meanings of flora but should that mean something?”

“Means fuckin jealousy.” Alfie answers with a box in his arms as he comes in, all broad in his hat and coat. He sits an opened box onto the table next to the flowers.

“So you didn’t send them?” Gen affirms and he lets out an annoyed sigh.

“No, love I did not.”

“Jealousy?” Claire asks now sitting up and paying attention.

“I got this fuckin' lot of rubbish today as well.” He knocks the box with his hand. Genevieve leans forward and sees a butcher's block of knives.

“An early wedding gift?” Alfie could hear the sarcasm in her voice as she purses her lips.

“Would seem so, yeah?”

“Yellow hyacinth's. ..knives as a wedding present.” Gen chewed a nail with narrowed eyes.

“A knife? Who sends fucking knives? Is it a threat?” Claire asks with growing concern for the quiet non-verbal conversation between Alfie and Genevieve happening in front of her.

“Knives are symbolic. As a wedding gift they are said to bring bad luck and cut the couple apart.” Gen explained.

“In that case it could only be… oh, ANYONE in the city who doesn’t want you together.” Claire groans and slumps at the new obstacle announcing itself.

“Load of superstitious cunts.” Alfie gruffs out and knocks the flowers with the back of his hand.

“I believe we find ourselves once again in agreement.” Gen says with an apologetic and sad smile to Alfie who only stares angrily at the flowers. The pair on the lad to send these to her. He wishes he’d killed him when he had the chance.

“You two might be but who the fuck is daft enough to send something so outright rude and aggressive to you?” Claire demands.

“Stupid fucker.” Alfie shakes his head in annoyance. He knew he’d come back to show his fuck ugly face again. The mad apples never fall far from the tree.

“I believe our former associates the Greeks, or rather Niko, is my guess, has just let us know what he thinks of our engagement,” Gen answers her finally after reaching out to pluck a petal off the stacked flowers and study it. “And he is not happy.”

Please like, comment and reblog if you enjoyed it! It helps out us writers A LOT!

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[meiko-was-here]

Miyo Sasaki and Hinode Kento

Matching Icons (･´з`･)

#A Whisker Away # Anime Matching Icons

[bootyful-seventeen]

Hidden leaf jutsu!

Genre: low key fluff and crack

An: this is a bonus Halloween drabble so hope you guys enjoy it!!!

“Rasangan!”

“Chidori!”

You snorted from holding back your giggles at the sight of Seokmin and Soonyoung play fighting together while dressed as Naruto and Sasuke. Seokmin’s loud yell echoed down the hall when he “knocked” Soonyoung back a few feet from using rasangan on him.

“I’m never giving up on you Sasuke! I will save you and bring you back to the hidden leaf village no matter what!”

“You’ll never take me alive!”

Your laughter boomed in the hallway when they broke character and started screeching at each other like startled birds, not being able to last a second longer as Seungkwan stopped recording the video. Seungkwan grabbed onto his side, his face turning red from laughing at hard at the older boys. “Stop... I can’t... I’m gonna pee!” Seungkwan managed to say in between his laughter and wheezes of air.

You struggled to stay upright when Seokmin screeched at Soonyoung, who screeched back at him, both with ridiculously hilarious expressions on their face. “Why did I agree to this?” You choked out between gasps of laughter. Letting your head touch the ground, you stayed on your hands and knees until the laughter had died down and a pair of shoes could be seen out of the corner of your eyes.

Looking up, you half smiled seeing Seokmin in front of you, his hands grabbing onto your shoulders and helping you stand up.

“C’mon, I gotta talk to you.”

Seokmin laced his fingers with yours, pulling you down the hallway before he released your hand to wrap his arm over your shoulders and pull you closer to his chest.

“Have I mentioned that I love you?” He whispered against your hairline before he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Because I love you so, so much.”

“What’s got you in a sentimental mood today?”

“Nothing, I just really love you and how you’ll do things like this with me.” He gestured towards your matching costume, his fingers tugging the zipper of the purple sweater to pull you closer before he pressed a kiss to your lips this time.

You sighed against his lips when the hand on your zipper slipped up your throat to cup your cheek while his other hand slid down to hold your hip. “Seokmin someone could see and I don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable,” you quietly moaned against his lips. Heat burned your cheeks as you quickly pulled away and checked to see if anyone was watching you.

Seokmin pouted at you before he kissed the tip of your nose. “Okay but when we get home I want my kisses.” He said as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders and walked down the empty hallway with you while you talked about how good his acting as Naruto was. Looking at him, you licked the pad of your thumb to fix one of the drawn on whiskers that got smudged on his cheek when Seokmin’s ears perked up hearing familiar voices that were further down the hall on your left, right around the corner.

“Shh.”

Seokmin hushed you when he saw Jeonghan talking to Hansol. A mischievous look came upon his face as he tip toed behind the elder boy, keeping a finger over his mouth to sing along Hansol to stay quiet about his scheme. Seokmin slowly dropped to his knees as he mimicked a few hand signs from the iconic anime before he screamed “Leaf village secret finger jutsu! Thousand years of death,” at the exact same moment he shot his index and middle fingers between Jeonghan’s ass cheeks, sending him about a foot high in the air.

“What the fuck!” Jeonghan screamed while you and Hansol burst into laughter when the oldest boy turned around and gave Seokmin the most intense glare you’ve ever seen. Seokmin scrambled out of Jeonghan’s reach and bolted down the hallway with Jeonghan right behind him.

“Get back here you little shit and let me show you what a thousand years of death will really feel like!”

You and Hansol collapsed against the wall when Seokmin’s screaming could be heard around the corner followed by Jeonghan’s cheering.

“I think you bruised my asshole!”

[feyria]

Final draft for Ritsuo

Name:­ Ritsuo Kiyobi

Nickname: furry(by bullies) and Ritz(by friends)

Hero Name:­ Fox-Fire the youkai hero

Age:­ 16

Gender:­ male

Sexuality:­ homosexual

Personality:­ Just like the fox spirits he is so fond of, Ritsuo has a mischievous and level headed nature. Ritsuo is always looking for the opportunity to crack a joke or play a simple prank, but he does know his boundaries and won't push others if they're not in the mood. He can be very cunning when he wants to and he has a bit of a silver tongue. Hes also very good with toddlers and infants, his small flames almost always a great way to catch their attention or calm their crying. He doesn't take well to bullies and has a bad habit of playing vigilante on them, wearing his fox mask as he punishes them lightly with his quirk. This habit only gains bullies for himself as well as the occasional detention and phonecall to his parents. Unfortunately, the repercussions didn't have much effect until his middle school principal and parents threathened to have him barred from using his quirk outside of emergencies.

Likes:­ Ritsuo enjoys reading and watching about folk tales of youkai and ayakashi. Boba tea is something he is rarely seen without, as he always has a cup with him, normally peach flavored. He also enjoys just generally relaxing at parks or in his yard listening to the wind chimes in the breeeze.

Dislikes:­ Ritsuo has a near zero tolerance of bullies and anyone who abuses their quirks just to pick on others. Getting caught out in the rain can also bug him a bit as it tends to happen when he's no where near shelter so he has no choice but to get soaked to the bone.

Strengths:­ a few strengths that Ritsuo has include his calm and level-headed nature. Only one or two things can make him lose his temper and break focus. He can also be very understanding and usually tries to hear both sides of a person's story or situation before choosing a reaction.

Weaknesses:­ although he can keep his cool in most situations, when it comes to bullies Ritsuo tends to tune everything out and focuses more on exacting "justice." It makes him somewhat of a hypocrite because he uses his quirk against those that harm others, normally only stopping when he himself is satisfied which can depend on how the other person reacts.

Appearance: Standing at 5'9" and weighing about 172lbs. Ritsuo has a somewhat thin build, almost like a runner with most of his muscles based around his arms and legs, built from his training. Pale skin combined with his light blond slightly curly hair. It reaches down to his mid back and frames his face. Normally kept in a ponytail with a green ribbon while in his costume. Grey deep set eyes and a slightly feminine face give him a near ethereal appearance even outside of his hero costume. He has a decent sized round mole on the right side of his head, near his temple.

Standard Clothes: When not in class Ritsuo likes to wear baggy pants with lots of pockets and loose fitting T-shirts with minimal designs on them. His footwear ranges from sneakers to sandles as well as the odd pair of crocs every now and then. His favorite outfit consists of a white T-shirt with a sunburst design on it, beige cargo pants, a brown button up shirt worn similarly to a jacket where he keeps it unbuttoned and brown sandles.

Costume:­ Ritsuo's costume consists of a simple blue men's yukata patterned with white, yellow and pink peonies and chrysanthemums. He keeps a pair of silver and blue tonfa as well as a retractable blue Japanese style umbrella inside hidden pockets of his yukata. Along with basic geta for footwear, he also has three light blond colored fox tails attached to his yukata that behave similarly to Aizawa's scarves in that they can be moved both with his hands or on their own. They are hollowed out and lined with a special fabric that keeps the outside fur from burning as well as extending the life span of the fire balls he stores in them. ( has to remove the tails to add more) The last two components of his hero costume are the fox head mask and the red paint he adds to his face to resemble three whiskers just below his eyes, a swirled pattern that starts on his forehead with a tail end that travels down the bridge of his nose. The swirl itself has five marks above it to make it look like a claw. The fox mask itself also has red markings to signify slanted eyes, four whiskers (two below the eyes and two more on the cheeks), a smaller version of the swirled pattern he has on his forehead (also on the forehead of the mask) and the outline of a fox's mouth as well as the colored inside of fox ears.

Weapons/Gadgets:­ Aside from the flames from his quirk, other weapons Ritsuo use consists of a simple pair of tonfa, a retractable blue Japanese style umbrella (of which the rim is lined with sharp yet short blades) and the three blond fox tails attached to his constume. He stores his blue flame quirk in both the umbrella and the tails.

Swim:­ As he doesn't go swimming very much, Ritsuo only owns a plain blue set of swimming trunks.

Sleep:­ Ritsuo usually sleeps with a white tank top and grey boxers.

Winter:­ In the winter he still wears his T-shirts but will also sport a white fur collar black jacket and loose fitting jeans. Ritsuo will also stick to wearing white or black sneakers and if it gets really cold, he'll also add a blue scarf to his choice of clothing.

Formal:­ Just like most other boys his age, he will wear a classic suit with tie to formal events. The suit jacket and pants are dark blue while he has a plain white dress shirt underneath and black dress shoes similar to penny loafers.

*Who would they?­ Fall for:­ Ritsuo would fall for someone with a great sense of humor, someone that can always brighten his day by making him laugh. He tends to take an interest in people that have uncommon hobbies or skills such as being experimental in the kitchen, knitting or crochet and story writing. He does have a bit of a "type" which consists of the other person being taller than him and having short hair. Blue or green colored eyes really catch his attention.

Befriend:­ Very similar to his love interests, Ritsuo prefers to hang out with others that can make him laugh and enjoy some friendly shenanigans. He tries to gravitate towards people that enjoy nature as he spends a good portion of his time outside just enjoying life.

Hate:­ He truly can't stand those that pick on others just for the fun of it. He dislikes those that con or steal from others and has no interest in being around someone that purposely annoys others just to laugh at them when they get mad. Shameless, perverted people that don't even try to change their lecherous ways are also on his bad list.

Respect:­ Ritsuo respects and idolizes people like Iida and Ingenium, those that uphold order and value justice as well as fairness. Someone that's not afraid to do what's right even if it may be more trouble than most would be willing to deal with.

Rival:­ Anyone that has a quirk similar to his. He won't go as far as to compete with them but he will mentally compare himself to them, using them as a guide on how to improve his own quirk.

Hobbies/Skills:­ Some of his hobbies include reading, making tea with herbs from the garden he and his father maintain, scouring the web for ancient tales and relaxing surrounded by nature. A few skills he has is his knowledge of a wide variety of herbs both edible and medicinal. He can cook and has a decent knowledge of baking.

*How they Act­ Towards Romantic Int­erests: Ritsuo doesn't flirt, he has no idea how to but he will shift between being somewhat shy around romantic interests as well as slightly touchy. He'll only go so far as to lay a hand on their shoulder or arm but only for a second or two and he will avoid it if the contact bothers others. He doesn't believe he has a romantic side but he still tries to do little gestures that could be seen as romantic. This only involves him offering some of the food he makes at home.

Acquaintances:­ Around acquaintances, Ritsuo keeps his friendly nature while also trying to be professional as well. He won't joke around or pull his little tricks but he may still find a way to lift up a down mood if he can. If not, then he tries to sympathize with the other person.

Towards Friends/Clos­e Friends: Ritsuo's mischievous nature really comes out around his friends in the form of light teasing and harmless pranks. His favorite prank seems to be rearranging a friend's work space or room, normally by stacking things on top of each other or combining various knick knacks into one container.

Rivals:­ He doesn't act very differently than he would with friends, although he may watch them just a bit more than others and even request a sparring match or two just for fun.

Towards Enemies:­ Against enemies, Ritsuo will first attempt to talk them in circles with his silver tongue. If that fails, then he resorts to using his quirk if they are villians or look for an adult if it's a fellow classmate.

Towards Iconic Figur­es: With iconic figures, Ritsuo tries to be as polite as possible, especially if it's someone he is a fan of. He goes out of his way to not offend them and tends to keep his head downcast as well. He only makes eye contact if he wants to show that he is determined or serious about something.

Meeting Strangers:­ Ritsuo is a very friendly person and will typically greet a stranger with a smile and a handshake, even going so far as to introduce himself if he feels he may be near that person for a while. He will also try to start up harmless chatter about the seasons or any particularly spectacular hero fights recently.

When Facing Fears:­ Ritsuo may be calm and collected in most other situations, but when it comes to his fears, he becomes more hesitant. His cool attitude replaced with doubts and a very deeply buried layer of panic. If the fear ends up putting his life on the line, he may outright run away. The only exception is if someone is in a similar situation, then he'll do his best to atleast get them to safety if possible.

In a life changing s­ituation: Depending on whether its a good change or a bad change, Ritsuo will fight it to keep his life as normal as possible or attempt to go with the situation if it will improve his life. He's not unwelcome to change unless it affects him negatively.

History:­ Growing up, Ritsuo may have been the only child that wasn't interested in heroes as much as the other kids his age. It wasn't that he disliked heroes, it was more that he was fascinated with tales of youkai and ayakashi thanks to the bedtime stories his parents would tell him. When his quirk manifested, his interest in spirits exploded into high gear, the famous nine tailed foxes his prime source of admiration. Ritsuo practically made it his mission to dress like the fox spirits where he would then proceed to roleplay in his dark room using his quirk to light it up with the eerie blue flames. He even managed to convince his parents to play with him as well (they played the role of priests trying to banish him) Thankfully, as he aged he began to grow out of the role-playing phase but his love for spirits never diminished. His parents aren't quite sure why he suddenly wanted to be a hero but they supported him regardless, mainly by helping him train as well as giving him tips on a potential costume. Nowadays Ritsuo planned to attend U.A for the simple goal of showing the world that his passion could be shaped into helping others- that whether spirits truly exist or not, he at the very least was a friendly one.

Relationships:

Family: Rika (mother) can turn any surface into a mirror for up to 25 minutes. Uses this quirk at her tattoo shop to "save money".

Hideki (Father) can also create blue fireballs and even has the same recoil, though his will turn into puffs of blue smoke.

Currently dating Oboru as of four months, they're pretty low-key about it since they still have no idea how to fully transition from friends to something more. They have had their first kiss already but nothing much more than that.

Ethnicity/Nationality: Japanese with just a hint of French on his mother's side, as in his grandmother is of French decent. He does know French but only enough to have the most basic of conversations and to ask for directions.

Fighting Style: He starts out as a distance fighter unless his quirk has no effect, in that situation he will swap over to his tonfa so he can rely on the martial arts training he's had.

Habits: Ritsuo has a habit or more of an obsession with drinking boba tea, he even makes it himself at home. He also carries his costume mask with him, constantly checking for scratches or chips in the paint.

Residence: Ritsuo lives with his parents in a small sized two bedroom one bath room house. They have a garden with tomatoes, beans and a grapevine in the back. A small back porch is set up with a hammock and grill that they use on weekends or when friends come over.

Musical Themes: The MHA ost Kibasen

Quotes:­ "We didn't receive quirks to torment others with, they came about so that we may express our individuality and help others!", "No, I am not a furry, I just really enjoy dressing up like fox spirits- my quirk was made for it." "Yes I know I'm not a real fox spirit but don't tell the kids that!"

Quirk Name:­ Will-o-wisp

Type: Emitter

Description:­ Ritsuo can create blue fireballs from his hands as well as from his mouth (these cause pain but tend to be stronger than the ones from his hands). He can control their size and the number of fireballs shot as well as being able to change their direction in mid-air. However, he can only do that if he is within 5 feet of the flames. If he overuses them, they become smaller and weaker until they're nothing more but glowing blue lights similar to fire flies.

Strengths:­ He can use his quirk to put out other flames so long as they are completely covered with his own blue fire for atleast 10 seconds. If he is close enough to his fireballs, he can manipulate them as much as he desires without using up his fire power. However, the flames he manipulates will weaken and fade after coming into contact with anything other than his own. Ritsuo is immune to his own flames.

Weaknesses: Even though they're hotter than the average flame, heavy wind and rain can still extinguish them and the quirk itself does not add any physical buffs to Ritsuo himself. Against an enemy with a resistance to fire, Ritsuo would be at a heavy disadvantage and he would need to rely on his weapons instead. He can only convert natural flames, so fires caused by another person's quirk will not be changed.

Main Skills: Yokai art gattling flame- true to its name he sends out a barrage of fire balls stored in the three tails of his costume (between 3 to 4 flames from each tail for a total of 9 to 12) He also has mid level training in martial arts and uses a pair of tonfa as well as an umbrella to fight.

Yokai art blinding flame- normally used at point blank range, ritsuo sends a fireball from his mouth aimed at his enemies face temporarily blinding them (differs from person to person)

Yokai art guiding lights- ritsuo can use his flames as what they are named for- will o wisps, little flames that can light up dark spaces for a max time of an hour and a half (however heavy wind or rain will extinguish them)

Yokai art blooming lotus- lobs a large fireball at his target that, when it comes into contact, bursts into the shape of a lotus blossom about two feet in diameter.

Yokai art fox creation- uses his daily flame allowance to create a 3 foot long fox made of fireballs to slam into his target. Takes a good 2 minutes to create so Ritsuo saves it for sneak attacks. Afterwards, his fireballs are harshly weakened to the point that he can no longer use them for that day.

[luvspiece]

Match icons ; A Whisker Away.

[tabletoptrinketsbyjj]

Trinkets, 10: Interesting baubles, semi magical objects and items touched by mystery.

A vial of oil labelled “Tomonari’s anointment for long swords and other weapons of the distinguished nobleman.”

A vulture beak with string tied to it to make a mask

A walking cane with an iron ferule that strikes sparks on stone

A wanted poster that bears the face of one of the PC’s but has the name Clay Allison written as name of the outlaw. The bounty can be collected “Dead or Alive” and the reward is substantial.

A water-skin that sounds like it has something thicker than water in it.

A wedge of glass that shows the image of three strangely garbed children playing and one frightened child watching you

A weighted copper coin that, when flipped, always lands on its edge.

A white flower that always attracts bugs and never dies.

A white silk wedding veil

A white toga, neatly folded and immaculately clean, which smells strongly of damp musty earth and is reminiscent of a grave.

---Keep reading for 90 more trinkets.

---Note: The previous 10 items are repeated for easier rolling on a d100.

A vial of oil labelled “Tomonari’s anointment for long swords and other weapons of the distinguished nobleman.”

A vulture beak with string tied to it to make a mask

A walking cane with an iron ferule that strikes sparks on stone

A wanted poster that bears the face of one of the PC’s but has the name Clay Allison written as name of the outlaw. The bounty can be collected “Dead or Alive” and the reward is substantial.

A water-skin that sounds like it has something thicker than water in it.

A wedge of glass that shows the image of three strangely garbed children playing and one frightened child watching you

A weighted copper coin that, when flipped, always lands on its edge.

A white flower that always attracts bugs and never dies.

A white silk wedding veil

A white toga, neatly folded and immaculately clean, which smells strongly of damp musty earth and is reminiscent of a grave.

A wicker doll that wards off the bad dreams of children and adolescents.

A wig made from from someone executed by beheading

A wire sculpture of a flower that releases petals when you blow on it. The petals “grow” back eventually.

A wood carving of an owl, so lifelike the eyes might blink at any moment.

A woodcutter’s axe, the head of which shimmers like downwards-flowing water.

A wooden ball that cannot be burned, but freezing it turns it to vapor

A wooden birdhouse that randomly reproduces strange bird sounds.

A wooden box which contains twelve more boxes each progressively smaller. The final box is approximately two inches in diameter and contains a miniature stoppered vial. If opened the vial lets out an acrid smelling smoke and booming laughter is heard.

A wooden box with a switch on the outside. When the switch is flipped on, a flap in the box opens, a little arm comes out, and it pushes the switch back off, before disappearing.

A wooden case containing n ancient, slender spearhead that is decorated with whirls and whorls engraved into the metal. The artifact was carefully wrapped in silk cloth before being packed away.

A wooden coin that feels and sounds like metal

A wooden collar that, when worn, makes the bearer absolutely certain they can communicate with trees. The collar does not actually grant this power.

A wooden cup, divided in half lengthwise with a sheet of aluminum.

A wooden plate with a drawing of the Sunrise Home, the dwelling place of the Lord of Dawn.

A wooden prosthetic leg with a hidden compartment inside of it

A wooden scroll case full of maps of various dungeons. Several maps are unmarked, but none of them seem to match the local area.

A wooden staff which has a hard to find hollow compartment. Inside is found a scroll which entitles the owner to an inheritance to be collected in a well-known city.

A wooden stein carved with the likeness of an orcish barmaid

A wooden tube with a creature carved on it. Every few days, the creature moves into a different position.

A wooden whistle that imitates the roar of a T-Rex.

A woodsman hat made of animal skin. While worn it grants the user random useless knowledge focusing on plants, animals, weather, geography and nature. The information is only rarely accurate but the user cannot determine what’s true or not.

A worm made of rust in a small wooden box. It’s alive and feeds on small amount of metal.

A worn and bloody apron. One of it’s pockets holds a small knife, a whetstone and a small vial of salt.

A yellow ceramic plate in the shape of the sun

An acceptance letter to a school of magic

An ancient bronze coin from an ancient city that was destroyed by natural disaster

An ancient bronze coin minted by a long fallen empire. The face of the tyrant stamped on it looks exactly like one of the PC’s.

An ancient copper bell with a remarkably musical chime

An ancient map of a legendary library believed to have sunk into the desert.

An ancient world map that appears to show the entire land was green and fertile.

An ankle bracelet that sometimes eases muscle aches

An antler from an unknown creature that continues to slowly grow

An azure steel spring that takes a remarkable amount of effort to compress.

An bouquet of funerary flowers that always looks and smells fresh

An ebony statuette of a standing bear of exquisite workmanship. A small fairy ring of mushrooms cast in silver rests in the base

An ebony walking stick.

An egg-shaped stone that, when cracked open, squeals and then puts itself back together

An emerald green silk turban with a black border. One end is intended to hang loosely over the shoulder and has five long tassels alternately coloured green and white.

An empty black box from which issue faint calls of “Hello?”

An empty scabbard with an intricate design etched into the leather. With enough study, it may be interpreted as a map that purports to lead to the location of the matching sword.

An extremely vivid and detailed portrait of the PCs going about their day, that seems to have been painted within the last week.

An extremely wide brimmed wizard’s hat

An eyepatch that when worn, shows a faint golden glow around certain individuals at random.

An hourglass filled with Randomly Coloured glowing sand that falls faster than it should

An hourglass filled with Randomly Coloured glowing sand that falls slower than it should

An hourglass that always takes a different amount of time to empty, but never an hour.

An hourglass that has something golden hidden in the sands, but before the object is revealed, the device always turns itself over to hide the treasure beneath more pouring sand. Smashing the hourglass reveals only sand within.

An incense holder carved in the likeness of a silt horror

An incredibly soft pillow that sometimes cuts your hair while you sleep

An intricate feather made entirely out of a single piece of clear glass.

An invitation to a magician’s circle on a date that doesn’t quite make sense.

An invitation to a party that’s taking place a month from now. The party takes place in a nearby city and the invitation will admit the bearer and a plus one.

An ivory hair pin with a set of fluttering wings attached to it

An ivory pipe carved in the shape of a crocodile.

An oaken backscratcher set with four cabochon-cut rectangular jade pieces.

An obsidian icon of a forgotten deity

An octagonal dinner plate that fills with unknown writing whenever a creature speaks in its vicinity

An old abacus with strange characters carved onto each of the beads.

An old, worn smith’s hammer. Its head is always hot to the touch.

An ordinary looking hens egg that defies all efforts to crack it open or otherwise damage it.

An uncut black gemstone. Occasionally it makes the sound of a hammer striking an anvil.

Half of a snapped oak battle standard. “We will fight to the last” is written in dried blood on one side.

Seven small beads of sandstone on a string, all different colors.

The blade of an ancient sword. A mysterious coat of arms is carved into it.

The broken horn of an minotaur, strung on a leather cord.

The broken horn of an ogre mage, strung on a leather cord.

The deed to a crumbling old manor house.

The fang of a white wyrm engraved with the name of a lost tribal chief.

The gold-coloured fleece of an unknown species of mountain animal.

The head of a pickaxe that was used in a lost gold mine, with names carved in Dwarvish runes along the sides.

The hilt of a dagger that was used to assassinate a king. Its onxy pommel glows ominously on nights with a full moon.

The pickled tentacle of a mind flayer.

The preserved fanged skull of a vampire, any blood spilt on the skull is absorbed into it.

The preserved finger of a hill giant

The preserved head of a mummy.

The preserved skull of a raven.

The silver badge of a powerful and secretive organization, with writing etched on the back that defames that group.

The skeletal hand with six fingers and a thumb. It a slight but constant aroma of brimstone.

The skeleton of a small bird with hands where its wings should be.

The stuffed and preserved remains of a large bat.

Three knuckle-bones that have been carved into dice.

Three small crystal vials of what appear to be red blood. The vials are marked with druidic signs for son, beast-man and bird.

Three stones linked together by a sturdy piece of rope, the stones are engraved with the words for ‘beginning’, ‘middle’ and ‘end.’

Two kitten whiskers pressed and sealed between two glass plates.

Wrapped in a gold handkerchief is a red bamboo finger puzzle patterned with white stars. Suspended in the middle of the puzzle is a small, fluffy feather.  

A crumpled piece of parchment with an inked grid. It can be written on and then erased if crumpled again. 1974 charges remain

A crystal cube with light trapped inside. Once per day it can be squeezed, causing it to shine as bright as a torch for one round.

A leather headdress that turns the bearer’s eyes completely black when worn

A pair of obnoxious dragon tooth cuff links.

An antique wooden box engraved with a forest scene.

[nightmr-wallppr]

Icons a whisker away.

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[putthison]

Style Inspiration: The 1970s Films of Jack Nicholson

Jack doesn’t necessarily make the Mount Rushmore of men’s style icons on film (McQueen, Connery, Newman, Grant?) but his rise to stardom in the 1970s arguably marks an important turning point in leading men and style. The big box office draws in the 1950s and 1960s were primarily men in suits (like Cary Grant) or cowboy hats (John Wayne). The characters they played may have been complicated, but they were pretty clearly protagonists. The heroes of their stories. Nicholson, on the other hand, seemed to slither perfectly into antihero roles, with the wardrobes to match--denim and workwear in Five Easy Pieces, to gangster suits in Chinatown. Offscreen, he wore the exaggerated lapels and collars of the 1970s well at awards shows and galas, along with his trademark knowing smirk. A lot of the actors in the style icon canon get there essentially because they’re really handsome dudes and they look good in clothes; while by no means a bad looking guy, Nicholson doesn’t have the sort of classical-statue handsomeness of a guy like Paul Newman.  

Said director Henry Jaglom: "He's a 20th century icon. His power is less to do with glamour and more to do with something very complex and dark that people recognise in themselves, but so beautifully packaged he can get away with it."

Five Easy Pieces (1970)--Nicholson plays the son of a well-to-do, artistically oriented family who’s dropped out to work oil rigs in Texas, and as the film progresses he leaves the blue collar world to go home. Meaning he gets to wear both great chambray and plaid workshirts and turtlenecks with corduroy sportcoats. Nicholson was nominated for his first Oscar for the role.

Carnal Knowledge (1971)--In this Mike Nichols film, Nicholson and Art Garfunkel play Amherst classmates, so you get the sort of Ivy/preppy wardrobe you might expect--great duffel coats, shetlands, and buttondown collars. As in many of these films, Nicholson’s character is essentially an asshole.

The Last Detail (1973)--In Hal Ashby’s sailor road trip film, Nicholson spends most of his time in a peacoat and “dixie cup” hat. Good use of chambray and a popped peacoat collar.

Chinatown (1974)--Chinatown is a dream for fans of unusual tailoring. Set in 1930s California, it features Nicholson as a private detective in a number of light-colored, three-piece suits with neat details like belted and pleated backs (with no vents), and shirts with long point collars that we’ve mostly come to associate with mafia figures. Modern suits seem exceedingly minimal by comparison. Plus a couple of nice brimmed hats in straw and felt. 

The Passenger (1975)--Nicholson worked with stylish Italian director Michelangelo Antonioni on this one. As a journalist initially working on a war story in Africa (before he steals the identity of an arms dealer), Nicholson gets to wear some excellent hot weather gear and lean on a beautiful Land Rover.

One Flew over the Cuckoo’s Nest (1975)--Nicholson won an Oscar for his work as McMurphy, a criminal who, although not mentally ill, is committed to a mental institution and shakes up the ward and its cruel overseer, Nurse Ratched. McMurphy’s wardrobe is not extensive, but his workboots, whiskered jeans, leather bomber and watch cap look straight out of a menswear blog circa 2010 (and I’d wear any of those items today).

Nicholson’s other 1970s work, including The Last Tycoon, an adaptation of an F. Scott Fitzgerald novel, and Goin South, a western he directed, offer the potential for good wardrobes, but they don’t quite hold up to these.