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cerebricarchives · 25 days ago

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Heroes Die Episodic Drafted #2

Project title - The White Panther Heist (cross reference of The Pink Panther & Why No White Panther?)

==== == set the scene

=minutes until midnight, cold, about to rain. Jewelry store dead but the two dudes decked out in plastic green army wear and one guy looking like a dollar store's he-man. one of them is chucking a cinder block on the display case, barely lacerating the glass after a few hefty drops=

🪖1 - *huffing lift dropping a brick* no i swear all it takes-hah-is a lil-grrrahhh! *SLAM!* eblow grease man, help me out!

🪖2 - I've got a better idea man. *Hops over the display counter* Let's just swipe 'em here.

🪖1 - no way man, hey I actually bought this *points to brick* for this gig. Seventeen-bucks and for what? Can't even break the glass!

🗡️ - and what do you expect it to shatter like a wine glass? Wait don't tell me you brought only a single cinder block to a smash-grab, Micheal

🪖2 - yeah like these are any better *points to m-16 looking rifle that is coated with green shiny plastic, fully functional rubber gun*

=staff door can be heard opened as it knocks back Toy Boy 🪖2 out as an old man comes through with a bat

👴🏽 - you damn punks want now?!? Get outta here before i call the cops!

🪖1 - We wouldn't want the cops here would we? *Throws brick at the store owner*

👴🏽 - Whe- *trips over avoiding the blunt force as it hits the wall behind him but impacts on the floor on the side* Jesus Christ! Who throws a brick at a 77 year old man here?!?

🗡️ - yeah Michael real smooth here, you really want to make that $17 wort over someone?!?

🪖1 - he had a bat like I just-reflexes man I'm sorry.

🗡️ - dude you really think he's going to make a home run on a f◾◾◾ing cinder block?!? Or what do you think that will also shatter too?!?

🪖2 - can we just make up now? Pretty sure the only worker in the whole damn store is on Life alert mode.

👴🏽 - punks you want? Money? I got em in the back, you hurt me bad tho-

🗡️ - yeah *smacks lips* no. *Pulls out replica sword aims directly to the neck of the store owner*

👴🏽 - please ... No no no. I just can't get up!

🗡️ - we're only here for one thing and it is not your dollar. We are here for your diamonds. *Stuffed hand into a money bag filled with the spoils that toy boy 🪖2 was swiping behind the counters* pure as crystal clear di-the hell? These are just gold rings dude.

🪖2 - there's diamonds on those rings

🗡️ - are you color blind? The stuff is sapphire. Or like a lapis?

🪖2 - does it really matter? It's still good jewels all the same.

🗡️ - you know by that logic we should just s◾◾t in the bag. Whatever. This thing? *Tosses card reader into the bag* like you said it's all the same.

👴🏽 - if it's diamonds that you want, I do have them in my supply replacement boxes. You find them in the back room, most West corner. Find a grey deposit box, labeled D. I. You'll find the diamonds there. That's all I have if that's all you want please.... I don't know where my keys are just bust the lock or whatever.

🪖1 - hey so I apologize for this or like... I mean we're taking your s◾◾t

👴🏽 - just get! Get!

= the three goons waltz into the staff back room as the old store owner lays there. One. Two. Three. Four. One. The man tries to get up but the old bones did get hurt in the scuffle. The man tries to find his footing as he eyes over the alarm switch. Just a simple few steps away if the impact felt like it broke a knee.

== zooming out. Out focus through the glass door of the gold 4 cash shop established on an empty lot surrounded by lowering concrete & steel buildings. On top of one across the road lies the top of an office building, spiffy with a slanted roof top to hang out in.

==== == set the scene

=green thunder and thy neon viking chill out on a good star gazing spot as they shoot the shit. Green thunder looking over his shoulder to see the jewelry store with the door open, though unaware of the shenanigans going on

⚡ - how is that a dare?

🪓 - hey it totally counts. I dare you, to tell me if you ever did hard drugs. Like you know we're... Hip.

⚡ - *sighs* I don't know what magic cocktails FAKES put me through the Surge, but I can say it's nothing to brag about. Still though like what kind of dare is that?

🪓 - so what is the college slumber party? Hey want to put out a game of twister, I'll spin the thing and get the four of us to cause wacky poses to try out!

⚡ - all right then fine you want to play hardball? Truth or dare.

🪓 - ...... I might as well pick truth.

⚡ - you ever told your family about this? Like you know being a superhero or whatever? At least I understand that you were orphaned but you know your actual-

🪓 - look at me man. *The washed out crusty dude of old hairy beard and hair donning a bright blue armor and a Viking helmet with neon lights going down his armor lines of cartonish nordic origins* my wife caught me in the act looking like this. She went into hysterics. And then when she said that anything I would tell her she would fully believe it and then I told her?!? *Slugs his flask* gughh..still paying for the kid.

⚡ - .. sheesh. I didn't really mean to upset it.

🪓 - and do you hear yourself? Like you phrased it in a way that I chose this life. No for what the blessing that the ancients of the old world gave me is not but a curse! Like Loki's trickery my lack of control of my power of the Viking Of The Southern Isle is not my style of life!

⚡ - *wrestling to change the subject* you know I still got a ma. I believe she's 60 something, set off to an old home down in Northern Florida. She at least knew I was dispatched the shadow ops thing just y'know... I thought I can get some advice about that but.

🪓 - you are barking up at the very wrong tree my friend. *Heffy burp as he takes out his phone, still a flip phone like* let me tell you some... One I guess. *Green thunder perks his head in interest* it's a lot of Trinity Justice boys gals, some still in contacts. Think there's one here, I think she can help you out with better advice than I can. A real people's person type of gal.

⚡ - ah geez man like *he takes out his phone being a standard android like with still the controller wheel on a bottom corner* sure man I really appreciate it.

🪓 - oh yeah this one's really chill all the solo acts and everything. Yeah here. Her name is TransVania, her nu-

= A cross the scene the cash gold store rings out an alarming bell that can be heard from the hangout spot

⚡ - Augh finally some action! Bet they haven't caught this one in. Wanna two to tango?

🪓 - fighting crime *hic* inebriated. Gotta *hic* drain my bladder *hic hic*

⚡- well whenever you want to walk it off, I got me a slice of this pie. And this time. *Sparks his knuckles out of electric impacts* I want a ala mode this one.

🪓 - hey man. Your air duct won't flush.

==== ==

#heroes die #creative writing #aaaand post #fuck it going to bed #I'll do this shit if I'm not burned out at work tomorrow #technically today fuck me

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jochnaya · 2 years ago

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Love, I don't know what happened, but I can sense that it drained you, ya?

It's okay. It's okay to feel tired, I can feel how much and how hard you tried. It's okay to take a rest for a while. You deserve to have a rest, you deserve a pat pat on your head.

This tiny baby will accompany you going through everything— even if it's a war against the whole world!! I'll protect you (by calling my friend— spiderman) while we hide together. Always remember that you have me, ya? Kalau spiderman kalah, aku bisa panggil Black Panther juga. Temenku dimana mana.

Atau kamu mau lawan bareng aja? Aku bisa jadi ranger pink, kamu jadi ranger merahnya. Kita minta bantuan dinosaurus juga. Omg, couple goals. Atau be the Jang Uk to my Cho Yeong? (Ini couple di drama Alchemy of Soul— aku belum nonton sih tapi lewat terus di timeline, hehe).

Papi, I'm sorry that you need to go through this hard time. But please, please hang on for a little. It'll pass soon. Come, come to my embrace. I'll hug you, bibu.

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waywardwizzard · 1 year ago

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@rickie-the-storyteller Thank you so much for the tag! (And sorry it took so long to do this🙈) (Also I'm doing both tags here if it's fine?)

This is a story I'm working on based on a bunch of one word prompts me and @theetravy came up with. I bet them I could come up with a story that included every prompt. This abomination is the in-progress product of said 38 random words.

Without further ado, onto the incorrect quotes!

Alex: I wonder who’s ruining my life.

Alex: *looks in the mirror*

Alex: So we meet again.

Renvy: Happy Throwback Thursday! Here’s a throwback to when Alex ate an entire tube of lipstick.

Alex, whining: But why would it be cherry-flavored if you can’t eat it?!

*Renvy dies in a game with ships*

Casya: This ship is no longer a ship of love, it's a ship of vengeance, a gavel of justice against all that is wrong in the world, showing no mercy, as no mercy was shown to us.

Casya: The spark of love will now fuel the fires of destructive glory as I wage my war across the world with righteous fury.

Firwyn: Legend has it that Renvy still haunts the ship, stealing my fucking drinks.

Renvy: Of course I do.

Casya: Are you alright?

Murian: Short answer or long answer?

Casya: Short?

Murian: No.

Casya: Long?

Murian: Nooooooo.

Endolas: I haven't slept in seventy-three hours.

Renvy: Eighty. Democratically elected leader of insomnia.

Casya: Bitch, it's been ninety for me. I'm going for an even one hundred.

Rotcher: You guys are fucking terrifying.

Dwynphry: *sighs* I have no friends...

Endolas:

Endolas: *coughs* Bitch, what am I? A roach?!

Alex: Hi, could I ask how exactly does one accidentally set a lemon on fire??

Casya: Microwave for 40 minutes. 😔

Firwyn: Why were you microwaving a lemon???

Casya: I read boiling lemons helps cover up up bad smells (I wanted to cover up the scent of burnt oranges) but I didn't own any pots.

Renvy: Did you burn an orange too? How???

Casya: Microwave for 40 minutes. 😔

Murian: Are you ready to commit?

Casya: Like, a crime or a relationship?

Casya: I’m proud to identify as morosexual. I’m attracted to dumbasses and dumbasses exclusively. Someone asked me what the Spanish word for "tortilla" was once, and now I dream of kissing them under the moonlight.

Murian: What kind of animal is the Pink Panther?

Casya, already taking off their clothes: God, Murian, you’re so fucking stupid.

Casya: I want to kiss you.

Murian, not paying attention: What?

Casya: I said if you die, I wont miss you.

Endolas: Renvy got into a fight.

Rotcher: That’s bad.

Rotcher:

Rotcher: Did they win?

Murian: Guys where did Alex go?

Rotcher: They got arrested.

Murian: How the hell-

Alex: *bursts in through the window* The cops are after me, I thought it would be fun to steal crackers and throw them at people.

Rotcher: Thanks for pulling the fire alarm, you saved me from giving an oral report about The Scarlet Web.

Renvy: You were too lazy to read the book?!

Rotcher: I was too lazy to watch the movie.

Rotcher: If you put 'violently' in front of anything to describe your action, it becomes funnier.

Rotcher: Violently practices.

Renvy: Violently studies.

Alex: Violently sleeps.

Dwynphry: Violently shoots pictures.

Firwyn: Violently boxes.

Casya: Violently murders people.

Alex: Violently worries about the previous statement.

Alex: Get in loser, we're going shopping.

Murian: This is a McDonald's drive thru.

Rotcher: Casya is okay.

Alex: They're okay? They said they were going to break my legs! And don't tell me they didn't mean it, okay?! 'Cause they gave me the mackerel eyes, they meant it!

Rotcher: Alex, Casya threatened me. They threaten Murian every day. They probably threatened Firwyn before breakfast this morning. It's what they do. Grow a pair.

Rotcher: I failed my safety training course today.

Alex: Why, what happened?

Rotcher: Well one of the questions was "In case of a fire, what steps would you take?"

Alex: And?

Rotcher: Well apparently "FUCKING LARGE ONES" isn't an acceptable answer.

I'll add more incorrect quotes later in a second post but I feel bad that I took so long to answer the tag so I'm sending this out in all its chaotic glory

Incorrect Quotes Tag Game - Ships Edition (Part 2)

It’s been a while since I last did this. Link to the incorrect quote generator:

And link to part 1 of this:

I’ve been starting to share more of the Steph’s Crew sequels with you all (UVC in particular), and there are so many more ships to explore in them. I only did 2 ships last time… the two main ones of TMM. So I think I’ll do 2 more here - Dalice (Dylan + Alice) and Chelise (Charlie and Elise). The two ships from last time are still pretty big ships in the sequel, btw. I just want to explore some different ships/characters this time around.

Here we go!!

Dalice:

Alice: I love you. Dylan: How many people have you said that to? Alice: Everyone. Dylan: What? Alice: I told everyone that I love you.

___

Alice: PEASANT. I REQUIRE SUSTENANCE. Dylan: You know there are other ways to say you want McDonalds. Alice: FOUL PLEBEIAN. YOU DARE SPEAK AGAINST ME— Dylan: *sigh* What do you want? Alice: Chicken nuggets please.

___

Dylan: I would let you ruin my life. Alice: Sorry, but I’m busy ruining my own. You’ll have to wait.

___

Dylan to Alice: Turn that frown upside-down! (a little while later) Dylan: What are you doing? Alice, trying to do a handstand: You told me to “turn that frown upside-down” but it’s not working!

___

Dylan: This is a bad idea. Alice: Then why are you coming along? Dylan: Someone has to help get your injured ass home.

___

Alice, texting Dylan: Any plans for tonight? Dylan: No. Alice: HA! Loser.

___

Alice: I can't take this anymore, someone needs to take me out! Dylan: In a dating type of way, or an assassination type of way? Alice: I don't know, surprise me!

___

Chelise:

Charlie: They don’t make them like me no more. I’m the last of my kind. Elise: Thank God...

___

Elise: You know, when I first met you, I really didn’t like you. Charlie, after a moment: …I thought there was going to be another half to that sentence? Elise: Nope! That’s it.

___

Charlie: Hey. Elise: *pissed off* You… complete …ASS, Charlie!! You show up here after WEEKS, and you say “hey”?!

___

Elise: Oh shoot! Elise: Um. Excuse my vulgarity. Charlie: I’ll let it slide.

___

Charlie: El is playing hard to get… Charlie: Little does she know, I'm a master at playing hard to get rid of.

___

Charlie: I’ve been dropping them the most insanely obvious hints for like a year now. No progress whatsoever. Elise: Wow. They sound really stupid. Charlie: But they’re not. They’re really smart actually. Just dense. Elise: Maybe you need to be more obvious? Like, I don’t know… “Hey! I love you!” Charlie: I guess you’re right. Hey El, I love you. Elise: See! Like that! Just say that. Charlie: *frustrated* Holy fucking shit. Elise: If that flies over their head then, sorry Charles, but they're too dumb for you. Charlie: Elise-

___

Elise: Hey. So, about that love letter you sent me… Charlie: *blushes* Oh. W-what are your thoughts? Elise: The fourth sentence- Charlie: Yeah, that’s where I got really deep and emotional and I- Elise: It’s “you’re,” not “your”.

___

And we’re done! Woo-hoo!

Maybe I’ll do an update version of the Bephanie and Brelise incorrect quotes as well lol. This was fun! (I think my fave is the third Chelise one… reminds me of Harry Potter lol)

I’m also planning to do a part 3 for Rachel and Gordon at some point.

Anyways, I’m tagging these folks to do it next:

@mysticstarlightduck, @fire-but-ashes-too, @exquisitecrow, @toribookworm22, @winterandwords, @aziz-reads, @sam-glade, @waywardwizzard, @janec23, @rbbess110, @clairelsonao3, @ember-writer, @harleyacoincidence, and @writinglittlebeasts. Plus anyone else who wants to do it is welcome to. 🤗

Let me know what your favourite incorrect quotes were!

#chaotic pirates #way writes #writeblr #original writing #tag game

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bullshit-in-disguised · 2 years ago

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Unhinged incorrect Requiemverse quotes part 1

Cade: *gets hit by a chalupa* WHO JUST ASSAULTED ME WITH A CHALUPA?!

Megaton: YOU DONT HAVE A SPARKMATE!!

Cade: YEAH, THATS WHY I FUCKED YOURS!!

———

Izzy: Sqweeks, I know your a skinky little piss baby and your Dad died faster then my parents getting hit by a missile. Despite the fact we’re both parentless children, I’m going to need you to get it together and GET OUT OF THE BATHTUB!!

———

Tessa: MAMA TRIED TO RAISE A LADY, BUT DADDY WON. HE RAISED A LADY WHO DOESNT TAKE SHIT! *Shots down a pretender with a Gun*

———

Cogman, ealks into the chaos in the base: What on earth is going in the House of Commons?!

Lennox: Fucking Whirl happened

———

Crosshairs: They don’t make them like me no more. I’m the last of my kind.

Bumblebee: Thank Primus

———

Cade: That's greatly offensive to my people.

Vivian: College dropouts?

Cade: Fuck you.

———

Sunstreaker, holding an antique bottle: Is this whiskey or perfume?

Hound: *grabs and chugs the entire bottle*

Hound:

Hound: It's perfume.

———

Cade: My husband is wearing a fucking suit for his Therapy appointment.

Optimus: It’s a important event!

———

Optimus: Did it hurt when you fell-

Cade: From heaven? Wow, I didn’t think you were such a flirt-

Optimus: No, I meant when you fell down the stairs.

Cade: ...

Optimus: You just laid there for 15 minutes.

———

Drift: I’m proud to identify as morosexual. I’m attracted to dumbasses and dumbasses exclusively. Crosshairs asked me what the Spanish word for "tortilla" was once, and now I dream of kissing them under the moonlight.

Crosshairs: What kind of animal is the Pink Panther?

Drift, already taking off his clothes: Primus, Cross, you’re so fucking stupid.

———

Optimus: Please, I’m begging you go to Ambulon…

Cade: Oh I’m sorry is this our stab wound? Stay out of it!!

#transformers #maccadam #bayverse au #transformers au #bayverse #cade yeager #requiemverse #optimus prime #yeager program #incorrect quotes #Cogman #bumblebee

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someguynamedstevewrites · 5 years ago

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My Roommate is an Apparition: An Apparition A-Pink-ciation of Culture

Based on characters created by @reddpenn

From the diary of Lily:

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When I was little, I used to talk to my stuffed animals all the time. They were my soft, cuddly friends who were always there for me, and even though they never spoke a word, I always imagined I could hear what they wanted to say. Even as an adult, I still treat inanimate objects like they’re people too. In fact, everyone does at some point or another in their adult life. Anyone who has ever argued with their car that refused to start knows what I mean.

But recently, I realized that sometimes people can do... well the opposite. That sometimes we don’t treat people (who are actual, real people) like they’re people. It’s not something we consciously think about, but it’s more like we forget that, well, people are people. I know this sounds really dumb, but I felt like I needed to write about this after a... well after an ��argument” I had with my roommate.

I’ve lived with my roommate for a few months now, and I thought I had gotten to know them pretty well. They like to watch cartoons (like, seriously LOVES them) and we had worked out a TV viewing schedule to make sure that we got along together. But the other day, I realized that I wasn’t necessarily treating them like they were their own person. I didn’t mean to do that, but it just kind of happened, and...

...well it gets really complicated because, technically, they aren’t a person.

I mean, they aren’t human; they’re an apparition.

It made me think about all those stories about monsters and ghosts. Like a ghost used to be human, but then they died, and their spirit became a ghost. Do we still treat the ghost like the person they were when they were alive? Outside of a few exceptions, the answer’s a definite yes.

But what about an apparition? It’s kind of like a ghost, but it’s not. I mean, it’s not the soul of someone who died or anything. They just sort of exist. (Would Slimer from Ghostbusters be an apparition or a ghost?).

------------

So anyway, reason I’m bringing this all up is because of what happened last weekend. I was channel surfing through the Cable Guide and as I’m flipping through, I pass by Boomerang (you know, the cable channel that spun-off Cartoon Network to hold all the older cartoons?) and all of a sudden, my roommate appears out of nowhere (literally) and practically grabs the remote out from my hands.

“Hey! What gives!?” I say to them.

They immediately change over to Boomerang and my TV screen is suddenly filled up with the color pink. At the same time, my roommate starts “doot-ing” along with the song and goes, “Doo-Doot! Doo-Doot! Do-Doot-Do-Doot-Do-Doot Do-Doot-De-Dooooooooo-Doo-Doo-Doo-Doo-Doooot”. I have no idea what they’re doing, but then the cartoon starts up and it’s the Pink Panther.

Rhetorically, I go, “What’s this?”

“Pink... Panther...” my roomie says.

And then I make my first mistake by saying, “Huh. Never seen it before.”

Now if I had been paying attention to them, I probably would have seen the face of shock they were making. “You... NEVER... saw it!?” They gasped.

“Nope. Must have been before my time,” which was totally true. I mean, I later found out my Dad used to watch it when he was a kid. It wasn’t on TV when I was growing up. (Why am I defending myself for not watching a specific cartoon?)

Anyway, roomie asks, “Watch... with me?”

And then I, being a total dumbass, say, “Nah. Think I’ll get some dishes in,” before getting up and walking away.

If I had stayed put for just a few seconds longer, I would have heard them asking, “...please?” (In case you’re wondering, they told me about that later.)

------------

Yes, I hurt its feelings. Yes, it was insensitive. Yes, I am sorry. But like I said, the thought didn’t even cross my mind back then. As far as I knew, as long as my roommate had their cartoons, they were happy. It didn’t occur to me that they cared about anything other than the cartoons themselves.

For the next week, my roommate made sure I knew, now and forever, that this was not true.

My first clue that they were mad at me was later that evening when I went to the living room to watch my usual shows. It was my turn on the TV, and usually I have to pry my roommate away so I can watch what I want to watch. But that night, the instant I walked into the room, they changed the channel to what I wanted, put the remote down on the couch, and left the room without saying a word. I thanked them, plopped myself down, and went straight into couch potato mode.

This should have thrown so many red flags in my head, but for some reason, it didn’t. Maybe I was being too self-absorbed at the time? Maybe I was just tired and thinking, “Aww man, I gotta work tomorrow!”? No matter the excuse, mistakes were made, and I started paying for them the very next morning.

My “haunting” kicked off with waking up to find most of my rock collection missing. I have a particular affinity for pretty rocks and gems (I’m kind of a rock nerd) and have my favorites out on display. But that morning, the only rocks that I could see were the pink ones. Someone had pilfered almost every pebble from every pedestal to perturb me. (I saw a chance for alliteration and took it! So sue me!) I was still waking up and too tired to care about it at the time (me making excuses again) and had work, so I got ready to go and left.

Now I’m not sure how they did it, but my roommate did something to my car radio. I turn it on and all I get are tunes by Henry Mancini. Fifty percent of the time, it was the Pink Panther theme, twenty-five percent was the theme from A Shot In The Dark (I had to use Soundhound to figure out that one), and the rest was a mix of some of his other work. It didn’t matter what station I tried changing it to! Although I did learn that Mancini composed Baby Elephant Walk, so that’s something.

By now, I’d already figured out what was going on (roommate did it), but couldn’t really do anything about it because I still had work to go to. As if the daily grind working at an art supply store wasn’t hard enough, I had to work while having the dang Pink Panther theme stuck in my head all day. Not even the music that played over the store radio could get rid of it. (Given the quote un-quote “music” they play over the speaker system, I eventually considered it a good thing.)

Then I came home, and that’s when things REALLY escalated. First words out of my mouth after I walked in was, “Hey, I’m hoooOOOOOLY~!” Every single wall in the apartment, from the living room, to the kitchen, to the bedroom, and even the bathroom...

PINK!

All of them were painted PINK!

Like strawberry frosted doughnut pink!

As I’m gawking at the interior design sugar rush nightmare, out walks my roommate from around the corner. Immediately, the first thing I noticed was that they had feet. (Normally, they don’t have feet; they just kind of “hover” or “emerge from the ground” or something.) They had their eyes closed, head held up, and made a point of showing off these noodle legs they had constructed by skipping every other three steps.

They were doing the Pink Panther shuffle.

They walk out of my line of sight and I run over to have a word with them, but by then they disappeared. I look around and all I see is more and more pink. From behind me, I hear a mix of snickering slash wheezing. Like you ever hear of this cartoon dog named Muttley? They were laughing like him. And of course, I turn around, and the only thing I see is more pink!

------------

I knew that my roommate could be ornery at times, like that time I tried to get an idea of their daily routine by setting up a webcam, but this...

I mean, where did she even get the paint? (Upon reading back here, I realized I referred to them as a ‘she’ even though I’m not sure if they are a ‘she’ or not. Yeah, I can edit it to a more neutral pronoun, but something tells me I ought to point this out instead of editing it, for some reason.)

I was half tempted to get back at them by painting the walls back to their original color (they do sell paint by the gallon where I work, and I get the employee discount), but realized they’d just paint(?) the walls pink again. Like I’d turn around after thinking I finished only to find the work I did completely undone. I could just picture my roommate doing that and finding it hysterical.

Anyway, tacky as the pink walls were, I didn’t get too angry about them. For starters, my lease agreement said that I couldn’t paint the walls without landlord approval. But my lease agreement also acknowledges that my apartment may be haunted. If the landlord ever brought it up, I’d just tell them the “ghost” did it. Second, these pranks my roommate was pulling were kind of amusing and didn’t really bother me that much. (I mean sure, I wanted my rock collection back but I doubted my roommate would have thrown them away. They know how much they mean to me.)

The one thing I was putting my foot down on was that I wasn’t going to ask my roommate what was wrong. I got the hint, sure, but I wanted them to know that if something is bothering them, they need to, y’know, actually say something instead of leaving spooky pink clues. They were being a butt, and my hope was that when they saw how much the pink wasn’t bothering me, then they’d finally open up. This went on for about a week with me going about my daily routine only to be surprised by the occasional pink interruption.

Like on Wednesday, I go to the fridge to get something to drink, and all I find in there is Pink Lemonade. It actually wasn’t that bad, but I have no idea how my roommate actually got it given that they never leave the apartment. Thursday, I get a notification saying a package arrived, and find my roommate used my debit card to order the entire Pink Panther cartoon series on DVD. And earlier on Tuesday, I got a call from my landlord asking if I knew why someone had called in an order, in their name, to have Owens Corning insulation installed. In case you weren’t aware, that’s the pink insulation who has “you can guess who” as their mascot.

------------

So, Friday rolls around, and by now, the entire apartment is pink. Like EVERYTHING. The furniture, the electronics, the toilet, the sink, the appliances, the TV, and everything in between has been made pink somehow. I’m not sure who out there still makes pink toilet paper, but apparently my roommate has either some special powers I don’t know about yet, or they got connections.

At this point, since my roommate had yet to approach me about “The Pink-ening”, I began playing the reverse-psychology card. I came home and got to making dinner. While some of this was a bit more expensive than what I usually spend on food, I figured it was worth it if it meant getting my roommate to talk to me. My menu included delicious smoked pink salmon, some crab linguine with a nice amount of pink to it for a side dish, and some mashed red potatoes that turn out nice and pink if you got the right recipe. To wash it down, I picked up a glass of pink lemonade from the fridge, and in the freezer, some strawberry sorbet.

I get down to eating at my pink table, with a pink wooden chair, pink napkins, pink silverware, pink glass of pink lemonade. It took a little more effort to put this together, but I made an exaggerated point of showing off how good this pink meal was and how much I was just enjoying all this pink.

About halfway into my meal, I get a feeling that someone’s standing behind me. It’s hard to put into words how you know someone’s there especially since my roommate doesn’t really eat or breath. It’s like the hairs on the back of your neck become sensitive like cat whiskers and can just... feel that someone’s there. Usually sends a chill down my spine when that happens, but this time, I was ready and waiting for it.

“Care to join me for dinner?” I say without turning around. If I had, they probably would have vanished on me again like they had been doing all week.

“Looks... good...” they say in their ever so familiar by now raspy voice.

“Got something you want to talk about?” I ask between bites. There’s a brief pause as my roommate thinks to themselves.

“...yes,” they finally answer.

“Okay. Pull up a chair! It’s been a while since we just, y’know, talked and stuff,” which was true.

The instant I said that, I realized that even before the “week of pink” began, we hadn’t spent a whole lot of time together outside of our usual TV time. I had long since figured out that my roommate wanted me to watch Pink Panther with them, but I just thought they wanted to show it to me to show off how (subjectively) good the cartoon was. Only then did it hit me that they wanted me to watch it with them because they wanted to watch it together with me. It was like they were hoping for some roommate bonding time or something like that.

Now, it wasn’t like we weren’t talking to each other before this. I greeted them whenever I saw them, and let them know whenever I came home or was leaving. but we hadn’t actually talked, like... “talk-talk” in a few weeks. Instead, the conversations over the last few weeks were like the kind of conversations a person would have with their pet cat or pet dog. Like you’d talk to them, but not really expect an answer from them.

I had been treating her like a pet more than a person. (Did it again! I’m thinking I’ll ask them later what kind of pronouns they’d like me to use, or if they’ve even given any thought towards gender or anything).

My guess is that my roommate picked up on this themselves, and just like a disobedient pet who is bored, lonely, or other, they made a mess of the place. Maybe they were thinking that if I was going to treat them like a pet, they would act like one too?

Of course, I didn’t mean to treat them like that. I don’t think anyone really does mean it when they do. It just kind of happens without thinking about it. The whole reason I’m writing this down here in you, diary, is so that I can make a mental note slash reminder to be careful of doing that kind of thing. It’s especially important to remember when interacting with other people, like my co-workers or the store customers. (Unlike my roommate, they can’t get on my case by making my entire apartment pink.)

------------

Now where was I? Oh yeah, our talk. I think I remember the most important bits of it. It went something like:

“So, whaddya wanna talk about?” I ask between bites of food.

“Pink...” they say to me. I wait a moment, expecting them to say “panther” after that, but it when it doesn’t arrive, I step in.

“Yeah! Pretty amazing what you did with the place! I didn’t know things could even get this pink!” which was one-hundred percent true.

“...Thank...you...” they say with a smile. I can tell that was not the answer they were expecting as I could have swore they turned and blushed. Although I couldn’t tell because of how pink everything else was.

“Although,” I add, “I don’t think the landlord is going to like the apartment being this pink. If it stays like this, they might kick me out. And we wouldn’t want that, right?”

Now my roommate, the apparition, actually looks shocked for a moment. The thought hadn’t entered their head, and for a moment, they looked a little scared. “N-n-n-no...” they stuttered.

“Well, I’m sure together, we can get this place back to the way it was before the next time they have an apartment inspection. Whenever that is,” I reassure them.

“Yeah...” my roommate nods.

“Say I got some time off this upcoming weekend. Want to watch some Pink Panther with me?” (Oh my God, you should have seen the smile on my roommate’s face when I asked this.) “I see I have the DVD collection now, apparently,” I say with a wink, “and we can even watch the movies together too.”

“...movies?” they ask.

“Yeah, the Pink Panther was a movie first before it became a cartoon. It was a live-action movie, but... well some of it’s like a cartoon here and there. Lots of slapstick comedy that I think you might like.” They were practically beaming and agreed immediately.

After Friday’s dinner, we watched some of the cartoons (which are actually pretty funny) and for the upcoming weekend, we’re doing a Pink Panther movie marathon with cartoons mixed in to spice it up. I also found out that my roommate doesn’t just watch the cartoons, but actually knows a thing or two about them. Like how Friz Freleng, one of the directors and creative minds behind the original Looney Tunes cartoons, was involved in the Pink Panther’s creation along with a new studio after he left Warner Brothers. I don’t know how my roommate came to know so much, but it’s pretty cool.

Anyway, I got me some sweet, pink treats to snack on during the movie marathon. The apartment is still pink as can be, but my roommate said they’ll take care of it once the marathon’s over. Exactly HOW they plan to take care of it, I have no idea. Oh well. No use pinking too hard about it.

(HA!)

#my roommate is an apparition #Tulpa #fanfiction #reddpenn #Pink Panther

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alternateafterthought · 5 years ago

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Arcane - Part 5

Ø Meaning: Secret, Mysterious, Understood only by few. MAGIC

Ø Pairing: Panther Hybrid Min Yoongi x Reader

Ø Summary: Some secrets are kept for the good of people. Some secrets are kept for abuse or power. Yoongi had been a victim of abuse and power, and he wasn’t going to let anyone else use secrets for that purpose. So, when Y/N comes into his life with secrets, he doesn’t want to fall into that rabbit hole again. He doesn’t want to give all his trust to someone who will abuse their power over him. But maybe Y/N’s secrets are a good thing.

Ø Genre: Hybrid!au, fluff, angst, eventual smut

Ø Warnings: None

Ø Word Count: 1487

Ø A/N: Hey guys… here is the next part of my Min Yoongi fic!! I was supposed to update this a few days ago but I seem to have to many different ideas going through my head and I never know which one to stick too!! But I really hope you are all enjoying this story!! So, I really hope you guys love and support this fic like you did with GOLDEN TIME!! If you want to be added to a tag list, message me or leave a comment or ask!! I would love and appreciate your feedback!! Thank you so much

PREV / NEXT

Like all major cities of the world, Y/N and Yoongi were welcomed into a global hybrid store, Whalien. If anyone was completely overwhelmed staring into the massive, 4 story building, it was Y/N. Y/N stood at the entrance, the leash to Yoongi’s collar in her hands has looked around wide eyed at how busy it was.

“Hey, it’s okay, I’m right here with you.” Yoongi held onto Y/N’s hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze before letting go. “What exactly are you buying for me?”

“Anything and everything you may need or want.” Y/N smiled as Yoongi’s confused look. “I want you to be completely comfortable when we get home. So, get everything you need. If it’s too big to carry with us, we can get it delivered to the house.”

“Y/N…”

“I don’t know everything about hybrids, but I do know that if I was to move into a new home out of my own territory,” Y/N smiled over her shoulder as she moved forward with him following her. “I would want to be comfortable.”

“You’re going to spoil me.” Yoongi state, with a look in his eye that Y/N couldn’t quite figure out.

“I’m willing to take the chance. You deserve to be spoilt and I deserve to spoil you.”

Y/N didn’t catch it, she didn’t catch the softness in Yoongi’s eyes as she trailed after her. She didn’t catch how Yoongi’s heart almost skip a beat. She didn’t catch how Yoongi moved closer to Y/N, wanting to be closer to her.

They found their way easily to the feline part of the store, going up to the 3rd floor as they followed the crowd. Y/N saw that the third floor was mostly for bedding, both of them walking over to the panther section. Yoongi quickly caught on that anything he so much as breathed close to, Y/N would pick it up and put it into the trolley they had gotten.

By the time they got back to the 1st floor, Y/N had asked Yoongi to get another trolley, which was half full. Y/N had already talked to one of the workers on the heavier items, getting them delivered to their house. Yoongi kept trying to make sure Y/N wasn’t buy as much for him, he watched as the two almost full trolleys now walked down the clothes aisles.

“Y/N, I really don’t need all of this.” Yoongi watched as Y/N held up two different shirts for him to decide between.

“Come on, Yoongi.” Y/N smiled happily, lifting the shirts towards him again. “I want you to be comfortable when we get home.”

“I think you’ve got enough here to keep me comfortable.” Yoongi looked down at the two trolley’s, full of things for just him. “I really do think it’s going to be enough with what we have.”

“Okay…” Y/N put the shirts down before handing them both to Yoongi. “Go try these one so I can see what colour suits you best.” From the look Yoongi gave her he was about to argue. “Come on the dressing room is just over there and I will be right outside.”

Yoongi playfully rolled his eyes at Y/N before they both walked the short distance to the dressing room. Y/N took a seat and waited just out of the rooms as Yoongi went through, his leash in Y/N’s hands. He was thankful he could at least take that off while changing and trying on clothes.

“Excuse me?” A soft voice asked from next to Y/N, as she held onto the two trolleys in front of her. “Do you mind if I sit next to you? My hybrid just went in to try on clothes too.”

“Oh, of course you can.” Y/N moved the trolleys completely out of her way as she sat next to her.

“Is this your first-time shopping for a hybrid?” The beautiful woman asked, flipping her hair over her shoulder, a set of pearls around her neck.

“Am I that obvious?” Y/N laughed a little, tucking stray hair behind her ear.

“A little. With how much you seem to be buying, I’m assuming you don’t have everything for a hybrid at your place.” The woman smiled softly, gesturing to her whole packed trolleys.

“You’re first to?”

“My first female hybrid.” She picked up the pink shirt on top. “I grew up with a male hybrid, but he was my brothers hybrid. And now that I’m married, we thought before we have children, we would see if we could look after a hybrid together.”

“Oh really?” Y/N nodded in appreciation, adopting a hybrid, and giving them a home and someone to love. “I really hope everything works out for you.”

“Thank you.” The woman bowed her head a little.

Before either of them could say anything else, Yoongi’s voice came to Y/N’s ears; “Y/N, I don’t see why you want to see which colour works, you’re making me choose between black and whi-“

Yoongi looked up as he came out of the dressing room in the oversized black shirt, she had offered him to choose between. His eyes had shifted over her and to the woman sitting next to her with wide eyes. Yoongi didn’t know whether to take a step back or to move until he was in front of Y/N, blocking her, protecting her from what he knew.

“Oh, kitty…” The woman’s eyes seemed to shine in mischief.

“Kitty?” Y/N echoed.

“Jagiya? Are you two nearly ready?” A deep voice rounded out of the aisles and made himself known; his eyes focused on his phone. “I’ll have to get back to work soon.”

“Oppa… look who I ran into.” The woman’s voice came out airy, staring up at her husband.

“Kitty?” The man looked up from his phone, surprise written on his face before smirking as he looked at Yoongi.

“I’m sorry, do you know my hybrid?” Y/N asked, causing the man to give her a once over, hiding a scoff behind a weak cough.

“My parents raised him.” The man said, causing Y/N to look between the smirking man and frozen hybrid. “After my mother died my father gave him to my older brother. So, I know what he’s capable of.” The man’s full attention went to Y/N as he offered his hand, Y/N just looking at him.

“What exactly is he capable of?” Y/N raised an eyebrow, easily holding the mans gaze until he became uncomfortable.

“If your short on cash, he’s got the softest mouth.” The man spoke with false bravado, trying to be the alpha and failing so easily.

“And how exactly do you know that?” Y/N was quick to ask, seeing how the mans eyes went wide, his wife staring at him, their own, what looked like a dog hybrid, staring at the man. “Is it from stories or…” Y/N giving him an obvious once over. “From personal experience?”

The man seemed to panic; it would seem he had some of his own secrets that he was keeping form his wife. The panic took a little longer for him to turn it into embarrassment, all the way to what would suffice as anger. Y/N would have guessed that he would have stomped his foot if they weren’t in such a public place.

“So, which is it? Stories or personal experience?” Y/N folded her arms across her chest, leaning back on her leg. “If you know so much about my hybrid, I would like to know what it is you do know.”

“Whatever.” The man rolled his eyes, realising he was never going to win this particular argument. “Come on girl. Time to go.”

Y/N watched them leave before Yoongi snapped out of his frozen state, a look of panic cross his face before he rushed back into the changing rooms. He came back out a moment later, back in the clothes he had worn from the sanctuary, and held the shirts back out to Y/N. He didn’t raise his head, and Y/N knew this wasn’t a conversation she needed, nor wanted, to have in such a public setting.

“Come on.”

Y/N turned, allowing Yoongi to take the spot next to her, head facing down, as they walked to the counter. Bagging and paying for everything, they were back at the hotel in no time, Y/N removing the leash and collar from Yoongi before he all but ran into his room. She let him go, he needed to be by himself as she started to pack everything for their flight the next day.

Y/N wouldn’t lie, she was curious to know about Yoongi and his past. There was only so much either of them could truly hide from each other. Y/N could only hope that everything the both of them hid from each other, from themselves, wasn’t going to be the thing to completely tear them apart. Not when they obviously needed each other so much in their lives.

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tetralea · 5 years ago

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Visitor

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Word Count: 3.7k+

Warning: Smut, established Dom/Sub relationship, Sub!Tom Holland, language, being tied up (hands and legs), using hand cuffs, dirty talk, praising, anal plug, blowjob, hand job, blindfolding, edging, begging, kissing, ice play, denied orgasm, unnamed third person joining to the scene (Tom Holland x unknown).

Summary: Long story short, Tom was being punished all week for disobeying to you, and it’s finally Sunday when his punishment is over, but it’s not going to be just that easy.

A/N: So, I really don’t know where this come from, this is the first time of me writing the reader as the dominant and Tom as the submissive parts, so I hope I got those right. Thank you for the inspo for sub!Tom for @farfromparker.

It was a long week for you and Tom both. Mostly for Tom. He hasn’t come in a week and right now he was desperate for it. It was a punishment for disobeying to you on the previous week, when you clearly forbid him to touch himself during the time you were experimenting with the pretty plug you ordered for him. Yet there he was standing in the shower, long fingers wrapped around his throbbing cock. Surely it was hard to resist, as the plug being nestled tightly in his pretty ass usually kept him hard or half-erect during the first days, but you expected a bit more of an obedience from Tom.

You caught him and the punishment was imminent. No orgasm for him for at least a week.

So now there he was, your pretty boy laying on your shared bed, panting and oh so sensitive. He couldn’t come in a week but you never failed to edge him, sometimes more than once a day, because it was hard to get enough of his desperate whimpers, of the way his brows furrowed when he got close, and how his whole body tensed, hands gripping the sheets when he got there, trying to fight the urge to come.

Those large, pretty hands were tied above his head, the soft black cuffs hugging his wrists just right, being careful with his sensitive skin. His strong arms were laying helplessly on the pillows, some strays of his messy brown hair tickling his biceps, causing him to shiver sometimes. His face and ears were painted in pink, eyes wide open, lips red and swollen from your kisses, big brown eyes following your movements as you were walking around in the room, gathering some things.

He was tied to the bed, not just his hands but both of his muscular legs, leaving him spread out and utterly helpless for you. Getting undressed wasn’t an issue because he slept naked anyway. If you looked closer, his hips were shaking a little in anticipation, thighs opened wide, giving you a prefect view of the black princess plug in his sweet little hole, his impossibly tight balls and his beautiful cock. It was impossibly hard, laying heavy against his flat stomach, the tip red and leaking with pre-cum, slowly collecting a small pool of transparent liquid on his pale skin.

Finally, you stopped moving around and stood right in from of him. ‘Look at you baby boy, looking all pretty and frustrated.’ You moved closed, kneeling on the bed. ‘I bet you are so sensitive now; I could make you come in a minute.’ Like a panther crawling to her prey, you moved closer, sitting between his thighs, on your heels. Tom whimpered but didn’t say a word, because you told him to keep quiet a few minutes ago, when your hands were pumping on his throbbing cock and lips sucking on his overly sensitive nipples. ‘Haven’t come in a week, have you, pretty boy?’ You purred and the question was the cue for him to talk.

‘No, Miss, I haven’t.’ Those dark brown eyes were roaming on your body, taking your naked form in, the way you were just simply sitting there, breasts on full display for him, knowing it wouldn’t take you more than a movement to reach for his cock. It slowly drove him crazy.

‘And now you are desperate for it, hm?’ It was more of a statement than an actual question, but Tom answered like the obedient good boy he was.

‘I am, please, Miss, I really need to come.’ He was breathless, his voice thick with desire, his hips shuttering involuntarily to his words.

‘I know, sweetheart, I know.’ While speaking, your hands touched his thighs, causing him to gasp, his body instantly reacting to your touch. ‘You have been so good to me the whole week. Took all of your edges like a good boy, I am so proud of you, Tom.’ He loved praising and you knew that, so you were willing to give it to him any time he deserved it. ‘Now, there is one more thing before you can come.’ Tom’s head rose to be able to see you better, eyes looking at you curiously, arms twisting into an uncomfortable position. He was eager and if that didn’t turn you on better than anything in this word. Your pretty boy eager to please you to get his sweet reward.

‘Yes, anything, I’d do anything.’ He blurted out without thinking, his cheeks turning even more red when he realised, how desperate he must have sounded. ‘M sorry.’ Those last words were a mere whisper, muffled by his bicep as he tried to hide his face in embarrassment. Pressing your lips together, you lifted yourself, one palm pressing against the bed next to his arm as you hoovered above him. The soft kisses peppered over his neck and pulse point, eased his tension a little, making your lips curl up to a smile when you felt him exhale deeply.

‘Come on, now, little one, I just need you to take this one last thing before getting your reward, alright?’ Tom turned his head back, nodding slowly, his eyes following your movements, as you sat back, reached down next to the bed, lifting up a small bucket, made of glass.

Tom immediately recognised it. It was usually used at the dining table, you used to fill it with ice to keep the booze cold during parties. He let out a small whine when he put the pieces together, realising what was coming next.

‘You have to get to the edge one more time, and hold it baby boy, it sounds easy, does it?’ The sound he made and the anticipation in you sent shivers down on your spine, making you unable to stop yourself and gently groped his left thigh, making Tom jump a little.

‘Yeah, yeah I can do that.’ Tom agreed, but a small sound at the back of his brain told him otherwise.

‘However, I’ll only use the ice cubes for that. You won’t have any other friction, than these icy cold cubes, sliding against your pretty cock, but you look desperate enough to get to the edge just like this.’ Tom shuddered at the devilish smile on your lips, but his body was so spent, so on the edge already, so needy and desperate for his release, he didn’t care about the ice anymore. He heard you dipping your hand into the bucket, fishing out a cold cube, while he tried to prepare himself mentally for the freezing touch.

A small yelp fell from his lips when the small object come in contact with his skin on his inner thigh, itching up constantly, mentally thanking you to giving him time to adjust. The first one was gone fast, cold water prickling down on his skin, leaving huge drops if water on the sheets. Immediately there was another one, picking up the pace where the first one died on his heated body, coming closer and closer to his crotch.

‘Oh, jesus.’ Tom’s hips jerked when the icy cold water was dribbling down next to his pubic area, hitting the base of his cock and coating his heavy sacks. There was a metallic sound when he jerked his hands to grab onto something, fighting the urge to jerk his hips away from the cold. The third cube was gone and Tom was already shaking. Maybe from the cold, maybe from the sensation, maybe from the anticipation.

‘You are doing so good, baby boy.’ He immediately felt warmer for your praising words, the bubbly feeling in his chest getting stronger for a minute. ‘Ready for the fourth one?’ You asked, but it was already in your hand, hoovering it above his cock.

‘Yes.’ Your eyes met with the lust blown brown ones. They were full of intent to take it, he knew you wouldn’t do it if you weren’t sure he could take it, he trusted you on this one.

He cried out and his whole body shook against his restrains when the ice hit his fiery hot, sensitive skin on his shaft, and started to move rapidly up, towards his head. His groans of torture quickly turned into moans of pleasure, after he was over the shock of the cold against his bulbous cock head.

‘Shit, Miss, oh, shit…’ He mumbled but got cut off with the fifth cube getting pressed to directly to his cockhead. Tom’s back arched from the bed, mouth opened to a silent scream, all of his muscles tense, his mind trying to process all the sensations. You moved it around, the ice disappearing rapidly when it come in contact with his heated skin. It was a sight you couldn’t get enough of. He got used to it even faster now, being able to focus on the sensation, the friction against his painfully hard dick, he craved it so much. The next chop was only noticed by a small jerk of his hips, and you couldn’t be prouder of him. ‘That’s it, Tom. God, you look so beautiful, taking it so well, look at you, you are oozing with pre-cum now.’ It was hard to control yourself, not to throw every plan you had out the window and just sit on his now cold cock and ride him until you both come. He could heard it in your voice, the subtle groan, the sharp intakes of breaths when you touched him again and looked at his now soaked groin, his dark hair being damp, sticking to his skin a little, his cock pulsing with need, his veins being even more prominent because of the cold, and his balls ready to shoot his load finally.

It wasn’t long until he was bucking his hips against the cold sensation, enjoying the only touch he got, which took him closer and closer to the orgasm. His frustrated moans grew louder and louder with every movement of yours, until he finally hit his tripping point.

‘Miss, I am close.’ He warned you, opening his eyes, fighting the thrill in his body to finally give into it. It was inviting and warm and promising him the pleasure he was craving for and it was hard to resist with the smooth surface of the hard cube rubbing against his sensitive head.

‘Good boy.’ You leaned up to kiss him briefly, pulling your hand away from his body. ‘Hold it there for me.’ You whispered into his ear, your hand finding his penis between your bodies, running the iced cube all over him, raising his pleasure to the edge again. Tom’s body tensed, while he tried to obey your command, keeping himself from coming, whimpering, crying out in agony, his legs trashing against his restrains.

‘Please, Miss, I can’t hold it, it’s too much, please.’ He begged with breathless moans and you could tell he was reaching his limits. You rubbed him just a second longer, pressing the half-melted cube to his tip one last time before you deprived him from every sensation. ‘No, no, please, please make me come.’ Tom looked at you scared at the verge of crying, that you are going to leave him there again, denying him again.

‘I promised, you can come today, didn’t I?’ You asked softly, lying next to him, peppering delicate kisses onto his freckled cheeks.

‘Yes, Miss, you did.’ His answer was so honest, broken, his feeling of betrayal sweeping through his answer. ‘Then why did you stop?’

‘I have a surprise for you.’ This left him speechless, his eyes opening to look at you. ‘Do you remember, when I asked you, what were the things you wanted to try, and you said, you’d love someone else to join us, to show others how well behaved you can be for me?’ It warmed your heart, the way his lips parted on shock, Tom blinking a few times, searching for his words for a second.

‘I..’ He started but gone quiet in a second not really being able to communicate coherently. He was high on pleasure and he was already slipping into subspace you could tell, from the haziness in his eyes and the way he stopped fighting against his restrains.

‘Our guest knows your safe words, so if anytime you feel you need to, use them, okay?’ Tom slowly nodded, the gratitude in his eyes shining through his haziness and lust. ‘However, I’ll blindfold you, so it remains a surprise of and other day, who our guest is.’

‘Can I guess at least?’ Tom’s voice was weak, submitting to your wish silently.

‘Yes, you can guess, baby boy.’ You kissed his eyelids, cueing him to close them, so you can secure the blindfold. ‘Now, I don’t want you to hold back, just let us know when you are close.’ With that a small whimper fell from his lips, fingers digging into the pillow only for imaging the sensation of the free release.

You looked on the clock and the door opened exactly at the time your guest was awaited. You felt Tom tensing next to you, trying to use all of his remaining senses to figure out what was coming next.

The guest walked right to the bed, pupils dilating at the sight of Tom in his current position. There was a but of a shuffling, clothes quietly hitting the floor. The bed dipped and Tom sucked into his breath, senses on max waiting for the next movement. He felt the stranger’s hands on his ribs, running up to his arms, a warm body next to his and soft lips kissing along his jaw. It was impossible to fight back the moan coming from the pent-up tension.

His mind was racing, trying to figure out who just joined you in the bedroom. The lips kissing his neck were smooth, so maybe it was a girl, but maybe it was a boy but cleanshaven. His toes curled, when the sensation of the soft kisses started to move towards his lips.

‘Go on!’ He heard your permission or encouragement to the other person, but all of his thought flew out of this head when the hot lips captured his in an intoxicating kiss. It felt like his body was on fire, like every fibre of his being would have screamed for more.

Like the guest could have read his thoughts, Tom felt nimble fingers run down on his chest, across his stomach, just to slow down at his cock and wrapping around it gently. The other person was just as eager and Tom couldn’t fight back the desperate moan. He could let got and swim freely in the sensation of the strong grip around his cock, jerking him steadily. The kiss ended with a weak whimper from him, but the wet lips quickly returned to his body kissing an sucking at his collarbone, traveling down, finding his hard nipples and taking them tenderly. It was a new sensation added to his bubbling pleasure in his stomach, which could have made him come in seconds, but he wanted to last, he wanted to enjoy this.

The stranger moved again, peppering kisses on his stomach, and Tom wanted to reach down, to dip his fingers in the hair of the other person, just to get a small hint of who it might be. Maybe it was someone he didn’t even knew, his mind wandered for a second, but it all ended when hot lips kissed the top is his cock, swallowing him fully in a second. A weak cry fell from Tom’s lips while the stranger sucked him.

‘Slowly, if you don’t want him to come too fast.’ Your warning come as a surprise for Tom, but he was grateful.

‘Thank you, Miss.’ He breathed out, body relaxing a bit against the soaked sheets. There was a shooting sensation, a sense of safety when he felt your hands slid onto his chest, just resting.

The gentle suction returned but it was more careful this time, tasting his pre-cum, trying the feel of his cock on the tongue and the way Tom felt filling the eager mouth of the stranger. It was another shock to Tom’s spent body, to his senses which were now working on 200% when the guest touched his balls with one hand and pulled on the plug with other.

‘Gently. His balls are really, really sensitive and playing with that plug would also make him come on seconds, he is just getting used to it.’ You were right and Tom knew it, because he was so close to coming, his whole body was already tense, one incautious movement of that skilful tongue on his tip would have made him trip over and he wanted to.

‘Miss, please.’ He started to plead. He felt like he was floating, like the world would have disappeared around him. ‘please, please.’

‘Please what, Tom?’ Your voice was shooting him, getting through the fog on his brain.

‘Please.’ He repeated, fingers grabbing the pillows desperately, his toes curling to the slow sensation of the mouth moving on his cock and the plug moving in and out of him a little. He was on the edge and he was holding back, you could tell, just the way he did all week, to obey to your words.

‘You can come now; you were such a good boy all week. Let it go, Tom.’ The words of encouragement got to him and everything intensified, the third person started to suck him feverishly, tongue swirling around his red tip before bobbing down on his shaft and that was it. The second the tip of his cock hit the back of the stranger’s throat, he started coming. ‘Come on, little one, come for us, come into that filthy mouth.’

Tom felt the pleasure flooding his body, it come from deep, it come in waves, shaking his body to his core, before it hit him with full force, making him cry out loud, arching his back, gasping and panting as he kept coming, his thick, huge load shooting out of his cock, down on the strangers throat until his sack were light and empty and the sensation started to fade.

It was like he passed out or he didn’t sense the time for god knows how long, because when he come to his senses, you were lying next to him, kissing his neck and face gently, the aftershocks of his orgasm still present, but the stranger let him go, only the warm hands on his thighs remained in contact.

You pulled the silk cover’s over Toms body, whispering shooting words into his ear, leaving him in his happy state just a bit more. The warmth next to him disappeared when you got up to get to your guest.

‘Thank you, you did great.’ An amused hum come from you and you didn’t take your time to push them on their backs and lay between their legs, licking and sucking on the most sensitive spots.

There were some more wet noises, quiet whimpers and some heavy panting, but nothing what could have even give the gender of the stranger away. You gave them or maybe they gave themselves the much needed orgasm but it was all which Tom could take out of the noises, and just like that the dip from the bed was gone and soon a door was closing.

‘Love?’ Tom’s voice was small and week as he was searching for you.

Immediately you were there, pulling the blindfold off his eyes, undoing the cuffs and the restrains of his legs, slowly massaging his skin, to increase the blood flow.

‘I am here.’ You kissed him, and Tom almost purred to the soft touch. ‘I am so, so proud of you. You were doing so good, baby boy. You really deserved your reward.’ He smiled and looked up to you, with tired, hooded eyes.

‘Will he come back?’ He asked quietly, arms wrapping around your body, inhaling your scent deeply.

‘He?’

‘Or she.’ Tom shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I thought maybe I would, but I don’t know. I can’t even guess, but it was amazing.’ He whispered onto your skin, almost falling asleep.

‘Well, then we will definitely have this guest back really soon.’ You smiled. ‘But now, drink and rest a little.‘ Tom whined when you turned to reach out and grab his water bottle and straw. ‘Here, sweetheart, slowly.’ Your steady hands were holding the bottle for him, while he pushed himself on his shaky elbows to be able to suck on the straw, moaning a little when the cold liquid hit his tongue.

It took him a few minutes to fully come back, letting to your gentle love bring him back to reality bit by bit very carefully. Small kisses, soft whispers and tender touches.

‘I am going to run you a bath.’ A tiny huff followed your kiss to the messy curls of his hair. ‘I don’t want you to lay on the wet sheets anymore, you’ll get sick.’ You sat up, and took his hands to pull him with you, getting him out of the bed, wrapping a soft, warm bathrobe around Tom’s spent body.

He cleaned himself up a little while the tub got filled with water, sitting at the edge, letting you massage his aching muscles in his arms and neck. He got in and shuddered to the sudden hot sensation around his skin which felt dull now.

‘I’ll go and change the bed, you just relax here, okay?’ Leaning down you captured his lips with your own, letting it linger for a little longer, sinking into the sweetness of it.

It was easy to change the bed thanks to the water repellent mind layer you put on when you had this whole thing planned. Now it was ready to have the both of you back, relaxing, watching movies, eating your favourite snacks all night.

Tom was just warm enough by the time you got back, bath wasn’t really his thing anyway, he got out, purring to the sensation of you drying his skin with a soft towel and now it was his turn to take your hand and lead you back to the bed, climbing under the covers.

‘Thank you, darling! It really was amazing.’ He sighed against your lips, pulling you close in his arms. You were laying like this for long minutes, enjoying the feeling of skin to skin, not really thinking, just sinking into the feeling, letting the unspoken words of love surround the both of you.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Who is the mystery person? Who thinks it was good? Who wants maybe more of it? If it wasn’t good, please let me know, where can I improve!

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Tags: @farfromparker, @lostinthoughtsandfeelings, @we--are---not--afraid, @learisa, @tomhollandd, @tomhollandspideys

#tom holland #tom holland smut #sub!tom holland #tom holland x reader #Smutty smut smut #tom holland x reader smut #tom holland x you #ice play #blind fold #tom holland blind folded

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starkerforlife6969 · 5 years ago

Text

Starker, Winterspider, To be a Widow

A continuation of @wandering-night19 ‘s iconic au. Peter’s past three husbands have all died under suspicious circumstances. Detective Stark was convinced that pretty Peter had something to do with it, but more and more lately, Peter’s dangerously loyal butler Bucky has become his prime suspect..read the OG post here thank you for letting me play with the masterpiece world you created.

part two here

TW: mentions of death, murder, obsessive love

Tony can’t get it out of his head.

The piercing blue of Barnes’ eyes, the tight coil of his muscles and the silent way he swept into every room. Trailing behind Peter, an ominous shadow, an attack dog.

But not an attack dog. Because attack dogs had masters, and Tony wasn’t sure that Peter was in control. Wasn’t sure that Barnes had a leash.

“Come on,” Tony hisses to Steve, as the two of them trudge down the large gravel drive back down to their car. The air is bitter and cold and the sky an ugly grey hanging low over them. “You know something’s going on here.”

Steve shakes his head. “His alibi checks out, Tony.”

“You’re telling me that Barnes didn’t strike you as at all off? He seemed perfectly normal to you. Three husbands, Steve. Parker’s not even twenty-five.”

They get to their car, and Steve pauses with his hand on the door. “I like facts, Tony. Innocent until proven guilty, isn’t that the law?”

“Then lets prove him guilty. A background check on Barnes, is that too much?” Tony resists the urge to grin at Steve’s look of consideration. He reigns it in. “Just to double check. Just to make sure.”

Steve is nothing if not thorough. He hums, but shakes his head. “Nat determined the cause of death as cardiac arrest.”

“Hey,” Tony quips, sliding in on the passenger side. “We all make mistakes.”

***

“I don’t make mistakes.” Natasha says calmly, and Tony sighs.

“You’re telling me that there isn’t even a one percent chance you could be wrong?”

“No.”

“Nat-”

“I think you’ll have to give it up. Barnes didn’t have a record, did he? Commended soldier. Respected.”

“Three. Dead. Husbands. Why does no one seem to hear that part?” Tony groans into his hands.

She gets up and shrugs. “Some people have lives that really are that tragic. Maybe instead of tormenting Mr Parker, you should be giving him some sympathy.”

“Or,” Tony murmurs, mind whirring as he thinks, “I just need to get a better look at the house.”

***

He tries to be ready for the sight of Peter. Tries to prepare himself so he won’t be blindsided like he was last time. And the time before. He tries to make his pacing look nervous, instead of investigatory, as he glances surreptitiously over the decor of the dining room. The huge mahogany table, the impressive candle centrepiece, the numerous portraits all over the walls.

Tony drags his hands over the wallpaper. Hidden doors? Maybe.

It feels like the portraits are watching him. Is it possible that-

“Detective Stark,” comes a lovely sigh, gentle and musical.

Tony turns, and there he is. Peter Parker. A vision in bleeding crimson and garnet slippers. “Mr Parker.” He says, trying to inject as much warmth into his voice as he can. It’s a relief, that Barnes doesn’t slink in behind Peter. Tony had received enough of a death glare as the butler had shown him in.

“You’ll have to forgive me,” Peter murmurs, sitting down at the table near where a silver tray is laid out. “I wasn’t inspecting visitors. I’m not in my mourning attire.”

Tony takes his cue and sits adjacent to Peter at the head of the table, watching as he arranges two delicate tea-cups. “Mourning attire?” He mutters, still feeling the paintings watching him, “people still do that?”

Honey eyes meet his, earnest and sad. “I do. I’ve had a lot of practice with grief in my time, Detective. Something you were keen to mention the last time you came into my home.”

Tony winces.

Peter deflates. “I’m sorry, it’s been- trying. Would you like some peppermint tea? It’s been calming my nerves.”

Tony politely declines, but looks over Peter anew. Translucent skin, dark smudges under his eyes. “Are you doing okay?”

“Feeling frayed, that’s all.” The boy admits, putting on a brave face. “But enough about me. Was there something you wanted, Detective?”

“We don’t think Mr Osbourne’s death was an accident, Mr Parker. We believe foul play was involved.”

Peter’s plush pink lips part in surprise, and a tiny hand comes up to his chest. “Oh,” he whispers, looking like a Victorian poster for fainting couches, “I suppose I should have guessed you were considering that option given last time, but...the coroner said it was-”

“New evidence has come to light.” Tony lies smoothly. Peter’s tea-cup trembles, the peppermint tea sloshing dangerously towards the lisp. “We want to assign you one of our best detectives.” Here, he smiles winningly. “Me, of course. To look out for you.”

“Oh, oh, there’s- there’s no need for that.” Peter murmurs, “I have-”

Right on cue, silent as a panther, probably as deadly as one, Barnes steps into the room.

His face almost looks as blank and stoic as usual, but Tony can read people better than that. There’s something there, in the thinly pressed line of his lips. Something angry.

“Bucky,” Peter beams, all the tension leaving his body, beckoning Bucky in easily. “I was just- Detective Stark, thank you for thinking of me, but Bucky here has always been marvellous at keeping me safe.”

Bucky comes to stand behind Peter’s chair, hands clasped tight in front of him. He says nothing, but his eyes are boring into Tony so hard it almost hurts.

The detective goes for charming. “I’m sure your old butler was enough before, Peter, but we really insist on you having one of us with you at all times, if possible. As a precautionary measure. Your past three husbands have all been targeted, it’s possible that the real target has been you.”

Peter looks stunned, before his expression turns to dismayed. “They wanted me? So, it’s my fault that-” his teacup shakes in his hand, and Barnes reaches down smoothly to lift it out of Peter’s grasp and onto the tray. Tony watches, gleaning as much as he can as Barnes stills Peter’s shaking fingers, squeezes once: reassuring.

Barnes’ eyes look distressed, concerned, lov-

No. Tony thinks, stomach dropping, ice seeping into his veins. He looks between the two of them, as Peter sniffles and dabs at his big, haunting eyes with the edge of a handkerchief, a frail, beautiful thing with such a tragic romantic history. And Barnes behind him, tall, silent, deadly, woven with such power, protective and providing and- jealous.

This case, for all its intrigue is no different from the most common. Love, obsession, jealousy.

“That’s awful,” Peter hiccups, unaware to Tony’s colossal realisation. “I’d feel just- just awful if that was the case, Detective. Of course. Of course, whatever you think is best. I have- I have many spare bedrooms. Bucky, you could make one of them up for Detective Stark, couldn’t you?”

“With pleasure.” Bucky hums, but his jaw is locked.

Tony waits until Bucky has gone, before swallowing hard and looking at Peter. “Is there somewhere we could talk?” He murmurs, “privately?”

Peter looks surprised, eyes still shiny with tears. “We’re alone, Detective.”

“Your butler-”

“I have no secrets from Bucky,” Peter says firmly, “but he’s gone upstairs to make up one of the bedrooms for you.”

“No offence, Peter, but I don’t believe that for a second.” Tony stands up and offers his hand. “Please.”

Peter looks up at him, breath tinged with awe, before slipping his delicate fingers into Tony’s grasp.

***

The library has a solid door with a gold latch, no paintings hanging, and the walls are all brick.

Tony checks the door once more as Peter drifts over to the fire. The flames lick heat along his crimson form. His pale skin, the deep red, Tony’s not sure what to make of him. It’s an arresting sight.

He wants to feel that skin. It looks smooth and soft. Wants to hear that lovely voice sigh his name, he wants-

He wants all of the boy. Completely. And he thinks that most men who meet him do. There’s something about him. It drives men to madness. It’s driven Barnes to madness.

Stephen Strange, Justin Hammer, Norman Osbourne, they’ve all just fallen in love. And now Tony thinks- he thinks maybe Peter loved them too. And that’s the part Barnes couldn’t take.

Tony thinks if he looks into those honey eyes too long, if he let himself give into temptation to press just one kiss-

He thinks he might go a little mad too.

“When did you meet Mr Barnes?”

“Oh, James and I have known each other forever,” Peter hums, wrapping his arms around himself, silk robe fluttering from the heat of the flames. “Since I was a boy. Before he went off to fight. He’s highly decorated, you know.”

Tony frowns, scanning over the book titles on the shelves: The Miracle of Al-Zahrawi catches his eye for a reason he can’t place. “So, childhood sweethearts kind of deal?”

Peter frowns, tumbling hickory curls spilling into his milky face. “We’re like family. He’s the only family I have left now.”

“And you never...”

“Detective,” Peter turns to face him, framed by firelight, “I think you’re beginning to insinuate and assume again. You were wrong last time and you deeply hurt me. I’d like not to be hurt again.”

Tony nods, affected by Peter’s voice and eyes and being. “Sure.” He mutters. “Tread real gentle, I get it.” There’s another book that snags in his peripheral. Understanding IDEF Statistics. Tony points to it, cocking his head. “Eclectic reading list.”

Peter’s voice is confused. “Most of them were passed down.”

“Back to Barnes- you don’t suspect him, then? The only person always with you, your only family, your only friend. First husband, Stephen Strange: gone. Hammer, gone. Now Osbourne.” Tony turns back to face Peter, who’s eyes are wide and expressive and confused. “Car accident, helicopter accident, heart attack. You don’t think there’s any possible way Barnes had something to do with it?”

“These are- are tragedies!” Peter exclaims, backing away. “Horrible tragedies and-and James has helped me through every single one. You don’t know him. I know him. He would never-”

“He loves you.” Tony says, matter-of-fact, “do you know that?”

Peter falters. He looks weak and small and delicate. Like a strong breeze wouldn’t just put out the fire. “He’s...we’re...family.”

Tony softens. He gentles his voice. “It’s not your fault, Peter. He...he loves you. Probably thought they weren’t good enough for you. Thought he was looking out for you.”

The boy screws his eyes shut and shakes his head. His beautiful curls toss this way and that. “Stop it, Detective. I don’t- I don’t like this. I don’t think I want you here- I want you to leave.”

Tony feels frustration well up inside him. “Peter, this will keep happening! You’ll never be happy, he’ll never let-”

He doesn’t realise he’s striding over until Peter topples backwards, grabbing a book off the shelf and using it to shield himself, like he’s preparing to be hit.

Tony stops. The gleaming cover with the title: The Tragedy of Mendell Stromm.

“I’m not...” he gets to his knees, and realises he’s shaking. Peter blinks up at him, long lashes framing eyes of sunlight and amber. “I would never hurt you, Peter.” He whispers. His voice feels all choked up. “There’s something...you’re...something precious.”

Peter makes a little noise from his throat, like an endangered, trusting animal. He lowers the book, and edges across the floor towards Tony.

“I look at you...” Tony whispers, fisting his hands, “it’s like a kind of madness, Peter. I know other people must have felt it when looking at you. I know- I know Barnes is crazy on you. He’s dangerous. I can see it. I can see things, I can read people, I’ve always been able to read people. I can-”

He stutters to a stop. Peter’s soft hands, god they’re just as soft as he imagined, cup his face. Smooth over his goatee. So close, he can smell the scented lotion on Peter’s skin, can see flecks of diamond in Peter’s eyes. Absolutely precious. “It’s okay, Anthony,” he soothes, so giving, even in his grief. “It’s okay, it’s okay.” And he wraps his arms around him.

Tony buries his face into Peter’s chest, soothing fingers running through his hair. Peter massages his scalp, and hums a melody Tony can’t place. But it’s beautiful, enchanting, just like Peter. “I’m sorry,” Tony hisses, shaking his head, tears staining Peter’s silk clothes. “I-it’s not- it was just a heart attack. I don’t- Barnes’ record is clean, I’m just- maybe I’m mad.”

“No,” Peter promises, kissing the top of Tony’s head. “You’re just trying to do your job. Keep people safe. Uphold the law.” Peter pulls back, a tiny smile on his face. “I respect that. I appreciate that.”

This close, he’d barely have to lean- he feels crazy, driven almost to insanity with this craving, to feel those lips-

Peter blinks, breath hitching, and he leans forward, just for a second, and presses a quick kiss to Tony’s lips before pulling away like a butterfly, barely landed on a flower.

It’s heaven. Tony captures those lips again, kisses him, and Peter opens up, and it’s so damn addictive and heady and-

The door of the library rattles.

The two pull away from each other with a start. Peter immediately gets up, brushing himself down and Tony follows suit. He looks at Peter (a lovely, lovely pink) who nods at him, and Tony heads to the door.

Peter slots the book back into it’s place on the shelf, and Tony slides open the gold latch to let Bucky in.

It’s as he’s pulling open the door -

The Tragedy of Mendell Stromm

Understanding IDEF Statistics

The Miracle of Al-Zahrawi

They all spark suddenly, hard, in his head. Obsession cleared only for a moment. Mendell Stromm- Norman Osbourne’s first wife. IDEF, the International Defence Industry Fair that Hammer made an appearance at each year, Al-Zahrawi, one of the world’s first neurosurgeons.

It’s not Barnes at all, it’s-

The door opens, and Bucky stands there. He takes one look at Tony’s face and grabs his arms before Tony can run.

Suddenly, there’s a sharp poke to his back, a knife, or, knowing Peter, some ornate dagger, pressing warningly into his flesh.

“Oh, Tony,” Peter’s lovely voice sighs, “so clever. Isn’t he clever, James?” Peter noses along Tony’s neck, cool breath fanning into his ear.

Bucky grins, teeth sharp but not feral. Tony sees. Barnes does have a master. And now, Tony does too.

part 2 here

Tagging: @clevermuffinalmondpeach @professional-benaddict @thisgirlisastarker @literallyjustdrawingrefsandideas @avengerscollection @myloshinobu @starker-stories @sweeter-than-starker @starkerislife @goldenmogar @starker-prompt-dump @itsrachael @2moonsandsaphael @firefandoming @prettyboiistarker @sofia1926 @silkystark @mauvalencia @plueschpop @starkerbby

#starker #winterspider #winterironspider #dark #murder mystery vibes #mentions of murder #death #au #widow peter #butler bucky #detective tony #soldier bucky #peter x tony #peter x bucky #obsessive love

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milknette · 4 years ago

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day 20 - fairytale

no-one to tell us no or where to go, or say we're only dreaming.

tumblr month: @auyeahaugust

links: ao3 | ff.net

PRINCE Adrien does not want to marry.

Or, well, he does— but not to some princess he doesn't know; not for the sake of politics and prevention of war; and especially not for a woman who would only marry him for his stature and family.

As corny as it is, Adrien wants to marry for love.

But it's not that easy to find someone to love when you're not even allowed to step outside the palace gates.

As if on cue, his father enters his bedroom.

"I assume you've accepted my proposition, Adrien?"

His low voice echoes through the otherwise empty chamber, the tone devoid of almost any love and care a father should have for his own child.

The younger boy only looks down, barely getting up from his bed.

Suddenly, the silks and expensive pillows that he lay on felt so stiff.

Cold, even.

"Adrien," his father repeats. "I asked you a question."

He sighs, deciding to try and confront him. Maybe this time, he'd actually listen.

"Please, father, reconsider. I don't understand why I must marry so soon. And to someone I've never met…"

"We have already discussed this. You must wed Princess Chloé; your marriage will unite our kingdoms and bring prosperity to our family. I'd have thought you'd be over being so stubborn about this."

"I'm not being stubborn! Marrying someone I've never met; and all the more to someone I don't love… didn't you love mother when you married her?"

The look in his father's eyes makes Adrien want to take a step back.

"Do not bring your mother into this."

But why not? Ever since she's disappeared, you've stopped talking about her, and shut yourself completely… you've become so cold, even to your own son.

Instead, Adrien quiets down.

"I'm sorry."

"Then it's settled. I shall send the Bourgeois Kingdom a letter accepting their proposal for marriage." The king stares at him, as if daring him to speak up. "Do you understand, Adrien?"

"Yes, father."

As soon as his father leaves, Adrien dons on a black cloak— his mother's, from way back when, and carefully starts packing a bag of necessities.

A black panther with stunning green eyes nuzzles close to him.

Don't leave, Adrien.

He sighs, before hugging the creature close to his chest.

"I'm sorry, Plagg. But I can't continue to live like this. I love my kingdom, and father, even, but I want to be free. There are things I want to experience in this world, and being trapped by my father will never let me do that."

Plagg growls, evidently conflicted, but carefully steps away.

"I'll come back one day, okay?" Adrien smiles softly. "I promise."

Adrien is stealing. Apparently.

He doesn't really understand how currency or paymentworks, having spent his whole life being pampered by life in the palace.

(Well, he's learned about it from his private tutors; but those largely had to do with managing the treasury and ensuring the gold stays within the family. He's never actually had any issues with wealth.)

So when a shopkeeper threatens to chop off his hand as retribution for giving a child an apple, of all things— Adrien realizes two things:

That economic conditions were actually so poor in his kingdom— a stark contrast from the apparent lie the palace advisers had told him, and;

That he was truly too sheltered by his father, not knowing anything at all.

It's when a strange woman suddenly grabs his hand and pulls him away that Adrien's knocked out of his reverie.

She's telling him something around the lines of, come with me if you want to keep that hand of yours, but he barely notices.

Instead he notices the deep bluebell of her eyes, the rosy pink dusted on her cheeks, and her vibrant red cape flowing as they duck into alleyways and abandoned street corners.

Adrien hasn't met many women outside of those in the palace, but he assumes that it's common knowledge that whoever this is— she is absolutely beautiful.

She takes him to the highest floor of a run-down old building, barely standing from apparent years of abuse and neglect.

The girl notices him staring in wonder.

"Sorry it's not great," she starts, carefully patting the block next to her. "Things haven't been great for some time now."

"I don't understand," he starts, trying to find the words. "Last time I was here, the kingdom was flourishing. And now, people starving, buildings on the verge of collapse, and violent men…"

She laughs. "Now how long has it been since you were last here? And you can't really blame the shopkeeper, you did just take his apple without paying for it. What kind of land did you come from to think that was normal?"

Adrien has the decency to look almost sheepish.

"Let's just say I've been gone awhile," he says instead. "But to think it's changed this much… I have truly missed a lot."

"Well, it wasn't always that bad," she sighs, pulling her legs up to sit down. "You know the king, right? Ever since Queen Emilie died, he just… stopped caring about us. All wealth they kept to their inner circle, leaving us to fend for ourselves." Her eyes narrow. "The people over there don't care about us, and would leave us to die."

That's a cruel wake-up call.

"That's not true!" Adrien suddenly blurts, earning a confused glance from her. "What about the prince?"

She scoffs. "The prince? Nobody's seen him here in years. He's probably just some entitled brat, living in leisure in the palace while we all suffer here. He's no different."

He wants to protest.

But how could he?

If Adrien were in her position, he'd feel no differently from her.

"Is that why you steal?"

"It's hard to make an honest living here," she smiles bitterly. "I've tried selling bread… but it never worked. People will step over everyone else to survive." She looks downward. "I know some orphan kids… scattered around. I've seen them pass out from exhaustion, ignored by everyone here. I know it's wrong to steal, but I— they're children. They shouldn't have to suffer like this!"

The pit in Adrien's stomach grows ever-larger.

How could he have lived so easily, without knowing any of this?

He feels disgust— with his father, with the greedy men from the palace, and even with himself. How could someone who would one day rule over the kingdom not know anything about the realities of the people who lived in it?

"Anyway," she finally sighs. "That's old news. So what's your story, stranger?"

Adrien shrugs. "I ran away. I was just feeling so… trapped, at home. I needed to be free." He pauses, taking in his surroundings— and the mysterious girl sitting next to him. "But I guess freedom wasn't anything like I expected."

"Well, I'm sorry about that. It's hard to come across anything good these days." She says, a far-off look in her eyes. "But one day, I'll get out of here. Travel the world, maybe. Somewhere I can actually live my life, without fearing for it everyday."

"...

Would you mind some company?"

She looks up at him, her face completely caught off-guard by the sudden question. He looks nervous, and scratches his head. "I mean, I've got nowhere to go either. And maybe I can help out! I don't know how to bake bread, but I could learn, and—"

"I'd love that."

Adrien looks at her, visibly surprised. "Really?"

She smiles. "It would be nice to not be alone for a change. So, you got a name?"

He smiles back. "... you first."

"Around here, they call me—"

"LADYBUG."

They both whip their heads up at the sudden intrusion, as a group of soldiers come bursting through the room. The floors shake as they flood the area. "I finally found you."

Adrien belatedly recognizes the voice as Madame Sancoeur's— his father's Royal Vizier and consequently, Captain of the Guard.

The stranger— Ladybug— stands, grasping his hand tightly.

She doesn't back down.

"I didn't think you'd show up yourself. A special occasion?"

Sancoeur flinches.

Ladybug raises a curious eyebrow. "Oh, so it is. What happened? The King throw another tantrum? Does he want more money? Because like I said, I'm completely broke. Like everyone else in this damned kingdom is."

"Do nottalk about King Gabriel like that. He is a good king, and you would be smart to watch your mouth when biting the hand that feeds you."

"Feed me? I have to fightjust to have a morsel of food on my plate. I don't live as the rest of you do, bathing in wealth while we barely survive. Now go back to your king and your prince and leave me alone."

Both Adrien and Sancoeur freeze at the mention of the prince.

"Oh. So something happened to your prince, then?"

Adrien's never seen his father's vizier look so angry. "What did you do to him?"

Ladybug rolls her eyes. "Oh, please. Like I'd want anything to do with someone as entitled as him." Suddenly, she squeezes his hand. "Besides, I already have one partner to keep me company."

"Ah, another pest to take care of." Sancoeur only sighs, before snapping her fingers. "Well, that shouldn't be an issue. I've brought a whole army this time. You won't get away."

At that, Ladybug is suddenly grabbed by a burly soldier, holding her so she can't escape. Two others hold Adrien back, separating them.

"I don't need the boy," she only says, turning back toward the exit. "King Agreste only wants Ladybug. But throw him into prison. Anyone who works with her is surely a menace to society."

"She's not a menace!"

Sancoeur looks back, raising an eyebrow. "Oh, so the alleycat can talk. Do you even know what she's done? That this woman has been stealing not only her fellow townspeople, but from the soldiers as well? The very people who are protecting you?"

"She's only stealing things to provide for those who can't. There are children, and they're starving. Dying— and she's only trying to save them." He struggles against the arms holding him captive. "If you would only listen, Nathalie!"

The vizier pauses. Then: "Let him go."

Almost reluctantly, they do.

Then, Sancoeur walks forward, with terrifying speed and precision, before whipping the hood off his head. "Prince Adrien," she finally says, eyes widening with shock. "So it's true? Ladybug really did take you?"

"No!"

He shakes his head. "Ladybug has done nothing. So let her go, now. As the Prince, I order you…"

She only ignores him, then snaps her fingers.

Two pairs of arms come to grab his own, again.

"Nathalie, what are you doing?"

She turns back, then sighs. "I'm sorry, Adrien. You gave me no choice." Sancoeur gives the two soldiers a brief glance, her eyes almost flashing with concern— but disappearing so quickly it's almost like he had imagined it. "Return the Prince to his chambers. I will deal with him later." Then, she turns to Ladybug; who had been eerily quiet since the exchange.

"Ladybug comes with me."

"Wait!" He starts, struggling to find the words. "Ladybug… I—"

The look she gives him is almost unreadable. Ladybug doesn't fight back; doesn't even struggle. She doesn't even turn back to him, not even for a glance, and walks away.

"Let's make an agreement. I'll give you all the riches you desire, enough to start a new life outside of this kingdom, if you do me one small favor."

"What do you want?"

"A simple thing. There's a cave, not so far from here. I've gotten old, and can't get it for myself but… I need a lamp."

"A lamp…?"

"Isn't it so simple? Retrieve this single item for me, and I will let you go. Is it agreed? Do we have a deal?"

Ladybug looks up at King Agreste, quiet.

Then:

"Where do I go?"

#auyeah2020 #mlauyeahaugust2020 #auyeahaugust #auyeah august #adrien agreste #ladybug #ladrien #ml #miraculous ladybug #milk writes #ml fic #ml fanfic #inspired by aladdin #hope that was clear ksdsjs

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haru-pp · 4 years ago

Photo

honestly i think i died while drawing this

Sometimes I have really weird dreams that give me different AU ideas, so there we have:

1) Izuku with a Pink Panther quirk. I have completely forgotten what it does; the only reason I remembered to draw it at all is because I wrote it down in my notes right after I woke up.

2) Izuku with a Novakid quirk. Little precious gas boy. He was the sun before it was cool.

3) Elsen Izuku? Or something like that. I actually have a lot of thoughts about this quirk(??), maybe I’ll post some of them later. Very sick, very tired looking boy.

4) DFO Izuku with white hair and abusive Inko (sorry mom ily but you know I had to do it to you), ran away from home, has a weird quirk, all that nice stuff. I call that AU “grave keeper Izuku” for reasons I might or might not explain in another post. was partially inspired by Phasmophobia.

#my hero academia #bnha #bnha art #midoriya izuku #AUs #bnha quirks #pink panther #starbound #OFF

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cerebricarchives · 25 days ago

Text

Heroes Die Episodic Drafted #2

Project title - The White Panther Heist (cross reference of The Pink Panther & Why No White Panther?)

==== == set the scene