#the panda tuts

[tojisun]

i fall to pieces

dilf!toji x college student!fem reader

!! this is a mess of tropes that i’ve always wanted to explore (such as lovingly tending injuries and being in love with your best friend’s dad) - the second one is a major CW; legal age gap (reader is in her early 20s and toji is in his late 40s); mentions of bullying (not between toji and the reader); petnames; no curses au // 2.9k words

: i had fun writing this even though i kinda forgot what the plot is midway; i hope u guys would like it <33; title is from cherry - lana

your knuckles, the ones that aren’t bruised, raps on the door, impatience thrumming in your veins. the ache in your jaw still stings, but you are far too focused on the split skin on your knuckles and how the trickling blood had turned the hems of your cream-coloured long sleeves into a garish sight. your chest heaves at another ragged exhale, your whole body trembling, feeling the burning remnants of exhaustion. 

the door opens after your last bout of knocks.

“jesus, what- y/n?”

you startle, not expecting toji to be the one to answer the door.

“what the fuck happened to you?” he asks when you didn’t reply, reaching to wrap around your less injured hand, clasping his thick fingers and warm palm around your wrist to tug you inside the quaint home. 

“uh,” you say unintelligibly, following him with unsteady feet as he leads you two to the living room. “is gumi-chan here, fushiguro-san?” is what you said instead, not really knowing where to even begin with unpacking the dumpster fire of a fight that you were in just minutes ago. 

he clicks his tongue. “i told you to just call me ‘toji’, kid.” he sits you on the sofa, your body bouncing on the plush cushions in a cartoonish way. “and brat’s with y’r other friend. the loud one with pink hair.”

you hum. “yuuji,” you say even though toji would just forget your friend’s name again.

he grunts. “yeah, that one. a’right, you,” toji points at you. “y’stay here and don’t even think about movin’.” then he disappears, his feet padding quietly on the wooden floors. 

only when he’s left do you realize how tense you still are, your shoulders poised as if expecting an attack. you force yourself to let go, feeling your body tremble at the extra effort it needed to exert to unwind your aching body. your eyes slip shut, your brows furrowing as your side throbs in pain again. fuck, you thought, the bitch got me good. 

any other day, you would’ve found yourself winning a tussle with no injuries. or, you grumbled to yourself, i wouldn’t even be in the tussle. but they had no right to pick on mai like that. 

(“heard you sucked cocks to get here,” fake blondie crooned as she wagged her stick-like finger, tutting like mai was a child.

mai bristled—who wouldn’t? 

she’s put countless efforts to get to where she is right now, and for her integrity to be questioned, because what? mai’s too pretty, too confident in herself, for a smart kid? clearly fake blondie hasn't seen enough of your friend group if she’s baffled by how someone could be smart and pretty and confident. even panda was charming, and no one even knows what he looks like underneath that mask he stuffs his head in. 

so next thing you knew nobara was throwing a punch, with momo jumping at fake blondie, and of course you had to join in; you weren’t going to let your girls fight on their own. but then one of fake blondie’s friends pulled out a bat out of nowhere and hit you at your side. 

you stumbled on your feet, almost tumbling to your knees at the sharp pain. mai’s shrill scream had been enough of a wake-up call before you were reaching at bat girl’s hair and yanking hard, forcing her to crumple before you. 

it was a blur after that. then mai was nudging you out of the alley, murmuring her thanks, before you four were parting ways.)

you hear toji walking back in and you peel your eyes open, tracking him as he makes his way back to you. he falls on the floor, almost between your legs, and your breath stutters when you realize the lack of proper distance between you and your best friend’s dad, so you clamp your legs shut and looked away just before toji could lift his head to meet your eyes. 

you startle when warm hands clasp with yours, your eyes jumping back to toji.

“easy,” he grunts like your heart isn’t thrumming loud and fast within the cages of your ribs. you swallow the lump lodged in your throat.

“ok-y,” you reply, internally cringing when your voice breaks at the end of a single word. fuck, you’re a mess. you clear your throat, feigning nonchalance even as toji begins uncapping the alcohol. “okay,” you repeat.  

he hums, spilling alcohol into the cotton ball before pressing the soaked cotton on your split skin. a hiss makes it past your teeth before you are clamping your lips tightly, trying your best not to jostle your body any more. you didn’t even notice your flinch until you hear toji’s soft shh sounds, his thumb running soothing circles on the part of your skin that isn’t wounded or bruised.

“m’sorry,” you murmur, feeling shy all of a sudden, your lips still pursed at the dull thrum of pain.

“s’fine,” he says. “should’a warned you.” toji pauses, the cotton pinched between thick fingers. he looks at you. “good to go?”

you nod, not trusting your treacherous voice anymore. 

toji’s lips quirk up in a small smile. “good girl.”

your mind screeches to a halt, your breath getting stuck in your lungs. it is like the world has stopped orbiting—it hasn’t, not when you can see toji dressing your wounds with gentle hands and even gentler touch—and all that’s left is the echoing words that toji just uttered.

good girl, he said naturally. genuinely. 

good girl, he said in a voice that denoted nothing out of the norm, the same way we’d say the sky is blue and the ocean is deep and you are a good girl. 

(his good girl.)

good girl, he said like he meant it.

fuck. fuck.

a squeal is building in your throat, your body trembling softly as the emotions seated in your chest began to expand and spill over and–

“ow!” you hiss, unconsciously tugging your hand away from toji’s hold, feeling the bite of stinging alcohol running along your tender skin where scratches and beading blood laid.

toji blinks at you. you blink at him in return, feeling prickles of embarrassment creeping from the base of your neck. 

you laugh, something so fake and brittle, feeling so ashamed and awkward. “sorry.”

toji shakes his head, huffing fondly, and his eyes crinkling in such a soft way. “c’mon kid, give y’r hand to me and we can finish patchin’ it up.”

you gingerly give him your hand again, licking your lips, wanting to say something even though words aren’t structuring themselves properly in your head, only to collapse into silence as toji’s hands cradle yours softly once again.

(he’s always been so soft with you.)

he hums, approval dancing in his tone. “y’r doin’ well, kid.”

before you could stop yourself, a wheeze punches itself past your throat. christ, the praises.

toji looks up, concerned.

“just parched,” you say before he could ask, feigning dry coughs to strengthen your obvious lie.

“…i’ll get you somethin’ after this,” toji replies hesitantly. “you still like those ramune, yeah?” 

“yeah,” you answer, your voice curling as you smile, watching as toji begins to bandage your hand. your cheeks tingle when toji’s lips tug up at hearing your quiet excitement. 

you cough, clearing your throat. “i’m shocked gumi-chan kept a stock here,” you say, after a while, wanting to break the loaded silence. “he said he doesn’t like them anymore.” your nose scrunches in judgement.

toji kept to himself for a moment and you wondered if you said something wrong. shame curls in your stomach, chasing away the previous excitement that had been budding in your chest. an apology sits on your tongue, prickling and heavy, then toji huffs. it’s only then do you notice that the bandages are secured but toji still hasn’t let go of your hand. 

“yeah, megumi’s done with ‘em,” he finally says, running soothing circles on your skin again. “i just kept buyin’ a bunch cause i know you like ‘em.”

“oh,” you mutter, feeling so breathless and choked up at the same time. 

toji chuckles without humour. “yeah. ‘oh’.” 

there’s a certain hesitancy in his next caress, an internal battle flickering from within his eyes, and you feel lost, anxiety and desire mixing in an uneasy tandem, overwhelming your veins to the point of silencing the previous beating you had. then, toji lets go.

your hands twitch, jolting to pull him back, but you catch yourself before your touch can connect. but it’s too late: toji had seen your aborted move.

he looks at you, searching for something in your eyes. a heartbeat passed, and you don’t know what’s gotten into you but you fall into his space, your knees hitting the floor with a loud thud. it’d be another pair of bruises that you’d carry home today but for now, with trembling arms and roaring heart, you let your hope choke you to the point of acting stupidly.

the kiss was chaste, cracked lips just landing on top of scarred ones. the world felt faraway yet scorching at the same time.

you feel toji tense under you and panic explodes in your chest.

stupid. stupid!

you pull back, an apology on the tip of your tongue, but you are stopped by toji’s arms encircling your waist to tug you to his lap. one of toji’s arms snake to your back, his palm coming to rest on the back of your head, before you feel him pulling you back into another kiss. this one is deeper. more heated. more desperate.

good. you think to yourself as your eyes shut close, feeling yourself drowning in toji’s kiss. so good.

you loop your arms around toji’s neck, tugging him closer as if you two aren’t already pressed flushed onto each other, raking your fingers through the straight strands of his hair. 

you savour the kiss, the moment, toji’s touch. you know that after this, there will be nothing between you and toji. a shared kiss is easy to forget as time crawls by, after all, nothing good will come out if things between yourselves are made serious. you’re not allowed to hope.

but god, the way you still do.

you hope that toji would make you his, whatever “being his” even means. you hope that he’d whisper confessions, stilted as they always are from toji’s lips, or praises. lots and lots of praises. you hope that when you two pull apart for air, toji would push himself back in your space and kiss you again, just as yearning as you are.

(you hope he loves you just as much.)

then, despite your internal cries of ‘too soon’, toji is pulling himself from the kiss. you let go, sucking in air desperately, filling your lungs with needed air to distract yourself from the searing loneliness that is crushing you already. 

you clamber off his lap, not meeting his eyes, only to pause when toji refused to let you go.

“uhm,” you begin, trying your best to ignore the tingling of your lips, when toji refused to budge. “toji-san?”

you startle when he cups your cheeks. “told you it’s just ‘toji’, kid.”

“okay,” you murmur. “toji, what’s, uhm, what’s up?”

he chuckles. “well if you keep rollin’ your hips, then somethin’s gon’ be up, a’right.”

you choke, startling on his lap upon hearing his words, the previous tensed atmosphere shattering into something light and humorous. “what the hell?”

but toji doesn’t regale you a response, instead he caresses the skin under your eye, smiling cheekily. “my pretty girl,” he coos. 

your lips part, ready for just as cheeky of a response, when toji’s eyes turn sharp and steely, chasing away the stuttering words on the tip of your tongue. 

“you fought them well, didn’t you?” he continues, his voice still in that crooning tone. “you came to me, beautiful in y’r anger.” toji’s voice has turned into measured murmurs. “and i know you must’ve won—you always do, kid.”

you nod, not knowing where the conversation is going.

“but you came to me, bleedin’ and achin’ and it terrified me.” he leans forward and presses a kiss on the corner of your lips. “and it got me thinkin’–” he pauses, going silent.

you shiver, feeling the way his lips are still pressed on your skin, ghosting with their touch—teasing, caressing. the desire keeps growing in the pit of your stomach.

then, toji pulls back, his eyes finding yours as he says, “i don’t think i can handle lettin’ you go anymore, pretendin’ i don’t love you.” 

“what.” your voice came out as a gasp, your lips (still tingling from toji’s kiss, you noticed with satisfaction) falling in surprise.

“wait,” you say because you couldn’t fathom a reality where toji said he loves you. “what?”

“c’mon kid, up-up,” he replies instead, carefully pushing you off his lap and urging you to stand before he can clamber to his feet. you follow his command, feeling lightheaded and overwhelmed by everything.

he loves you?

“let’s get you y’r ramune,” he continues, pulling you to the kitchen, like he didn’t just drop a bombshell on you. still, you follow him to the kitchen—you would honestly follow him everywhere—hovering by the fridge, bandaged hand intertwined with toji’s own scarred hand, watching as he rummages past refrigerated produce, before pulling out the peach-flavoured soda. your favourite. 

toji lets go of your hand and rips the seal off the nozzle before pushing on the ball. the clink of glass on glass is the only sound in the kitchen as toji turns and hands you the drink. 

“thank you,” you say before taking a sip.

toji leans forward and presses a kiss on your forehead. “always.”

your cheeks burn, your veins thrumming with each wild pump of your yearning heart. the affection you have for him is spilling over and even with toji’s disjointed confession, you know it’s your turn to make the move.

so you step on your tiptoes, kissing toji on his jaw, before murmuring, “i’ve loved you since.”

as if that was all that toji had been waiting for, toji doesn’t waste any time before he’s scooping you off the floor and plopping you on the counter, his lips are hot as they met yours for another kiss. he cups your jaw, tilting your head up to deepen the kiss. the ramune slips from your hold but toji catches the soda, plopping it beside you, before turning his now free hands to touch whatever they could of your body. you reciprocate with the same ferocity, tugging at black strands and nipping his bottom lip, trying to convey the want and the love and the heat simmering inside you.

toji growls, deep and satisfied, his voice rumbling between you two. it was loaded with an emotion that easily reflected the storm raging in your chest, silencing the budding uncertainty over toji’s affections for you. you scratch at his back, trying to hold onto him tighter, afraid that this is just another dream.

(you used to count every single one of them, only stopping when one of those dreams left you too raw, feeling like you have been gutted and left to bleed on your bed.

you don’t remember the whole of it, but even with only the fragments you were left with, you know why you ache: flashes of a little kid with toji’s eyes and your nose; flashes of a life beyond flirty conversations and fleeting touches; flashes of vows that lasted a lifetime. 

you woke up sobbing in your dorm room, feeling so small, so robbed of what you wish life could be with toji.)

toji pulls back, the whine in your throat cutting off into a moan when his lips latch on your throat, sucking and biting—marking you up because you are his. you arch your back, giving toji more room to stake his claim on you. 

lust and love are mixing, leaving you breathless and teary-eyed because god you’ve been waiting for this for so long. 

“love you,” you hiccup, trembling when toji’s hands hook under your shirt, tickling your skin with his ghosting touch.

“shh,” toji murmurs, fond and understanding, straightening up to gaze back at you again. “i know, baby. i’ve got you.” he loops your legs around his waist before toji is hoisting you up in his arms and, without staggering, carrying you to his room.

your eyes flutter when he carefully lays you down on his bed, his eyes watching you with reverence. 

“let me love you,” he whispers.

you nod, softly. desperately. “please.”

his touch is a gentle scorch, his bigger body easily covering yours. when he thrusts, it is deep and and strong and filling, reaching your most intimate parts with measured strokes and unwavering intensity. when you cry his name, he croons and coos, praises spilling from his scarred lips along with his promises of loving you and caring for you, something that is so sentimental even as he continues to fuck you filthily.

“my sweet girl,” he murmurs on your skin, his lips latched on your collarbone. you almost don’t hear him amidst the consistent slaps of his thighs on your pelvis. “my precious, sweet girl.”

that’s how you cum: toji deep in you, your name slipping past his lips like prayer, and your pleasure consuming your every nerve.

you know things aren’t perfect, not yet anyway, but your mind is a mush, overwhelmed with toji (his scent, his touch, his words), your body is singing with euphoric contentment so you bury the worries deep in the pockets of your chest because for now, you are in the arms of the man you love. and he loves you just as firmly. 

[indigosabyss]

The Not-A-Curse (JJK x Nanbaka Crossover) AU: Kyoto Goodwill Event – Possible Track for Nanba?

The Goodwill Event was a collaboration between the three major jujutsu education organizations in Japan: Tokyo Jujutsu High, Kyoto Jujutsu High, and... Nanba Training Academy.

"Why'd you say that weird?" Yuuji asked, immediately picking up on Megumi's reticence on the subject.

Gojo tapped his chin, "Well, how to put this? Even compared to sorcerers, they're weird."

"The Goodwill Event only happens either here or Kyoto because they literally will not tell us where their secret island base is." Megumi explained sourly.

"An island?!" Nobara screeched, "So unfair! I'd throw the match so we can get an island vacation next year."

"Which is exactly why we let them not host." Gojo tutted, "Otherwise, everyone has an incentive to not do their best!"

Then above them, a loud 'POOF' rang out, followed by a cloud of white smoke. When it cleared, there was a man dangling upside down from the ceiling right in front of Gojo, using a belt that resembled more of a tail wound around a lighting fixture to keep him there.

Bright red markings around his eyes heightened the dry glare leveled at their teacher from mere inches away, who smiled beatifically.

"Heard you were talking shit." The guy drawled finally. Yuuji thought he was really cool.

Gojo grinned, turning to look at his students and pointing at the interloper, "See? Weird."

(more excerpts thru the entire arc under cut)

------

"'Goodwill Event'." Principal Hyakushiki - nicknamed 'The Warden' - scoffed as she marched in front of the chosen six students for the event. They all straightened their spines as she continued to lecture, "Don't let your hearts soften. Don't lose sight of the target. Remember: this is war."

Zakuro gulped, leaning to whisper to his trainer, "Doctor, isn't this a bit dramat-?"

He was cut off by the Principal bellowed, "WHAT IS THIS?"

"WAR!" The rest of the group readily yelled. The Department Five duo he expected to like that sentiment, but the Dreams track guy said it with way more bloodthirst than was normal.

----

Jyugo didn't want to invite the Kyoto group to the school. He just happened to be passing by with Inumaki and Panda who wanted him to break into Kusakabe's car.

And now he had been cornered by this scary guy with a topknot.

"You. What's your type in women?" He asked, towering over him.

Jyugo blinked, struggling to understand how they had gone from carjacking plans to this.

"I... don't like women." He settled on saying.

"Men, then!" The interrogater switched tracks easily.

"I don't like men either." This finally hit a dead end for the guy. Was it really that strange?

"Complete emotional unattachment is his entire identity." Panda backed him up.

Mai waved a hand over the weird guy's eyes, to no reaction, "Woah, you broke Todo."

---

"Hey, Number Fifteen. Want to watch the event from the screen us staff get?" Gojo asked, half-distracted by a strawberry popsicle, "Your old supervisors have great taste in snacks!"

Number Fifteen shook his head, looking listlessly at the book the blind fire-cursed man had given him, "Kinda busy right now."

"Okay then, have fun staring holes into a book you clearly can't stand!" He ducked back out, beating the bad thoughts back with a stick.

---

Zakuro's hands were shaking lightly as he pulled Jyugo's hand into a handshake, "Holy shit, you're the original Cursed Shackles user."

Funnily enough, the Cursed Shackles were the last thing people pointed out as weird about him, in jujutsu spaces. Everyone was more excited by the Hollow Spirit aspect.

"Thanks." He managed, extracting his hand from the grip, "Should you be down here?"

"We should run away." Zakuro suggested, already thinking about the future, "This world, these chains, we don't deserve it. Let's get out of here."

Jyugo considered it. He looked back at his room, still covered with deadbolts on the outside.

The idea wasn't too unappealing.

---

The curse with tree roots growing out of its eyes flexed its cursed energy, facing down the young sorcerers surrounding him.

The tiny boy with plaster-white skin flickered his cursed energy wildly. His classmate in the red jumpsuit started moving back.

"Brace yourselves." He warned, "Upa is unleashing his technique."

Everyone backed away as the boy fell into a stance, waiting in anticipation as he concentrated higher and higher cursed energy into his palms. Until finally he released a blinding beam of it directly at the curse.

Smoke rose up from the spot, eviscerating the creature previously standing there.

"Your secret technique," Megumi said with withering disappointment, "was just hypercharged cursed energy blast."

"Yes." Upa said simply, "It is a talent treasured in Department Five."

Megumi fucking hated Nanba Academy.

[dreaminrainbows]

Thank you so much @tracksuitponytail for including me <3

The last line I've written is:

A firm tut tut tut, beautiful, alive, perfect.

Zero sense, much suspense :D

Eight words so I'm tagging eight people <3

@red-panda-28 , @jaywriteshome, @gonebylouist, @uhoh-but-yeah-alright, @marwritesstuff, @blueskiesrry, @reallynotmemoi, @thinlinez

[popcornforone]

To The Bone

Day Six of the Seasons of Life Drabble Challenge

A Dieter Bravo Fan Fic

MASTERLIST

Day 6 prompt is Freezing which is apt for the moment. Unlike the rest of the country I might not have had snow but the heating has been on most of the weekend, & it’s been icy. So this one for our Trash Panda makes sense.

Synopsis:- Dieter has an emergency, as his assistant your around as quickly as you can be.

Word count:-440

Warnjngs:- boss assistant relationship, Dieter keeps wanting to persuade you for more. I’m real life no means no, you can make your own choice. Swearing.

I hope you are all enjoying these shorts. Thanks @fanfictionoverload @lady-bess @berryispunk as always.

“Dieter” you shout as you walk into his mansion. You’ve had to walk to his as it was an emergency he said down the phone. Your car wouldn’t start & there was no public transport or taxis to be had to get him to his place. It had been snowing a lot. Ice was everywhere. So you were hoping his place would at least be a warm Sanctum for you. Oooh how wrong were you.

“Ahhh finally” he says as he glides down the spiral banisters of his stair case to see you. He’s in his greenrobe & wearing a blanket & a hot water bottle falls out.

“It’s fucking freezing in here Dieter”

“That’s why I called you, to come help me reboot the boiler”

“Seriously” your teeth chatter as you speak back. You look pissed off.

“Yes it’s not making any noise & I thought we could solve it rather than call out a repair guy” he says not realising how stupid he has been. You roll your eyes at him as his assistant. “what!?” he says, not realising how simple this is.

“Come with me”you drag him to the utility room & point at the box on the wall. “See this, it’s your heating, you twist this &…” as you turn the dial the heating comes on straight away.

“Ahhh life saver” he says hugging you. You enjoy the hugs but it’s still hacked you off.

“I can’t believe you called me just to turn your heating on” you tut. You can already feel everything warm up a little.

“Who said that was all I had in mind” he said his hand moving to unzip your coat. “Maybe I had thought of another way to stay warm” he then turns you around so you are facing him. His thumb trailing across your lips.

“Dieter, how many times do I have to say no”

“But that’s what makes me want it more beautiful” he says. “Is your heart as cold as the weather”

“Dieter im your assistant, & you only want me because you know you can’t have me” he goes to protest.

“Hmmm I guess you’re right” you step back & nod.

“Is that all Dieter or can I go home now”

“But it’s freezing out there babes, at least stay for a hot chocolate & to warm up here first”

He says with a glint in his eye.

“Hmmm” you smirk, you’ve always had a crush on him but promised yourself to keep things professional. “I guess I could stay a little while, until I’m at least brave enough to venture into the freezing treck home”

[mariana-oconnor]

The Mazarin Stone pt 2

Should I be starting this at 20 past 11 when I have work tomorrow? No. No I shouldn't. And yet here I am. Because time is an illusion and sleep is for the weak.

(It's not, this is a terrible idea...)

Last time on the adventures of Billy:

Sherlock Holmes was looking for a shiny diamond. The guy who stole it came around and was about to bash in his head with his cane when he discovered it wasn't actually Sherlock at all! It was a waxwork. Then it ended with something that apparently wasn't supposed to be an innuendo.

Maybe I should commission some wax works of myself, just in case someone ever comes 'round to try to kill me.

“It is no use your fingering your revolver, my friend,” he said in a quiet voice.

Talking of things that aren't intended to be innuendoes.

The prize-fighter, a heavily built young man with a stupid, obstinate, slab-sided face...

Billy has been going to the same school of character description as Watson, clearly.

"Now, look here, Count Sylvius. I'm a busy man and I can't waste time. I'm going into that bedroom."

I don't know if it's just because I haven't slept well all week, or if this really is just full of inintentional innuendo, but everything is coming across as dirty right now.

“What is it, then?” asked Merton anxiously as his companion turned to him. “Does he know about the stone?”

I'm going to take a second to say that it's really nice how the muscle is being allowed to ask questions and they're being answered. So often, the brawny one just gets told what they need to know and nothing more, but here Mr Merton seems to be an equal partner in this endeavour. Good for these guys, honestly. Just because a man's a prize fighter and has a... 'slab-sided face' doesn't mean he shouldn't be allowed to be as involved in the criminal proceedings as anyone else.

“That's right. Maybe somebody's behind a curtain. Too many curtains in this room.”

Well, Billy's definitely listening somewhere, or he wouldn't have been able to write this.

There was a vague sound which seemed to come from the window. Both men sprang round, but all was quiet. Save for the one strange figure seated in the chair, the room was certainly empty.

Was the waxwork just replaced by a real person? I kind of want that to have happened.

“I've fooled better men than he,” the Count answered. “The stone is here in my secret pocket."

Oh my god. I can't believe you just said that out loud. While in enemy territory. You have the survival instincts of a panda, istg.

One or other of us must slip round with the stone to Lime Street and tell him.” “But the false bottom ain't ready.”

Yep, that's right, just blurt out literally everything right here and now. Clearly this is an excellent place to discuss the details of your secret plans.

"Come back here, out of a line with that keyhole."

Now you're trying to be surreptitious?

“Thank you!” With a single spring Holmes had leaped from the dummy's chair and had grasped the precious jewel.

He had replaced the dummy. Excellent. Love it.

“No violence, gentlemen—no violence, I beg of you! Consider the furniture!"

Possibly the least effective 'please don't murder me' I've seen.

"It gave me a chance of listening to your racy conversation which would have been painfully constrained had you been aware of my presence.”

“A fair cop!” said he. “But, I say, what about that bloomin' fiddle! I hear it yet.” “Tut, tut!” Holmes answered. “You are perfectly right. Let it play! These modern gramophones are a remarkable invention.”

I can't believe someone actually said 'A fair cop!'

And the wonders of modern technology. A Recording? How unexpected!

“How do you do, Lord Cantlemere? It is chilly for the time of year, but rather warm indoors. May I take your overcoat?” “No, I thank you; I will not take it off.”

Haha! He is secretly three kobolds in a trenchcoat!

“Every man finds his limitations, Mr. Holmes, but at least it cures us of the weakness of self-satisfaction.”

OH boy, well clearly this guy is due his comeuppance, because he has no idea that he's in a Sherlock Holmes story and therefore if you insult Holmes' intelligence you're for it.

Sorry, Lord Cantlemere. Do not pass go. Do not collect £200.

"I may tell you frankly, sir, that I have never been a believer in your powers, and that I have always been of the opinion that the matter was far safer in the hands of the regular police force. Your conduct confirms all my conclusions. I have the honour, sir, to wish you good-evening.”

“Put your hand in the right-hand pocket of your overcoat.” “What do you mean, sir?” “Come—come, do what I ask.” An instant later the amazed peer was standing, blinking and stammering, with the great yellow stone on his shaking palm. “What! What! How is this, Mr. Holmes?” “Too bad, Lord Cantlemere, too bad!” cried Holmes. “My old friend here will tell you that I have an impish habit of practical joking. Also that I can never resist a dramatic situation. I took the liberty—the very great liberty, I admit—of putting the stone into your pocket at the beginning of our interview.”

Oh, Holmes. Always so hilarious with the practical jokes. This isn't as bad as pretending to be dead, or that time you invited a guy to eat with you, then hid something in his meal and he almost had a heart attack, but still... really? I know he insulted you and therefore needed his comeuppance, but still.

"Your sense of humour may, as you admit, be somewhat perverted, and its exhibition remarkably untimely..."

OK then.

That was an odd one. Completely different structure. Third person POV. We got to see Holmes' methods in that we got to see him stage two pranks, essentially. There was little in the way of deduction.

Not sure about that one.

Weird case.

[nuclearrayne]

IT WAS UTTER PANDAMONIUM!!!

Pandamonium Nursery Wallpaper Kits

This is a 20 pattern set broken down into 2 kits, one is very colourful the other is done in neutral tones. When I thought the set was finished I went in game to do the thumbnails but the additional wall colours looked bland so I made some stripped wallpapers to compliment the patterns and add some zhuzh. I have done matching thumbnails for each kit so its not a hassle to figure out what goes with what <3 Also included is a set of prints with pandas I have pulled from the patterns, some of the pandas refused to cooperate so not all of the kits have matching prints, but those I could turn into art, I did.

I have included previews of the colourful pattern swatches below the cut, and YES these come in my white paneled option, too!

To join in with the pandamonium, please...

Colorful Swatches:

Paneled Option:

DOWNLOAD

All of my kits are BGC

All wall heights included

To remove unwanted patterns please see this mini-tut

Want to add your own paneling colour? Try my recolour of Peacemakers Wainscoting here

As with all of my creations, if you find any issues, please let me know.

@emilyccfinds @sssvitlanz @kittiesccfinds @pollycro @heathersccfinds @public-ccfinds @alwaysfreecc

[oxantisocialx]

🐻‍❄️

Danke, für die Erinnerungen was wir in 4 Jahren erlebt haben, ich würde lügen wenn ich sage Dass du mich nicht geändert hast, denn du hast aus mir eine komplett andere Person gemacht. Ich seh alles viel klarer und sehe alles in verschiedenen Sichtweisen. Ich hab von dir gelernt dass Liebe nicht immer das ist was ich mir erhoffte, für das bin ich dir mehr als alles Dankbar. Ich hab gelernt dass ich so viel schmerzen auf mich nehmen kann und es sich dennoch nichts bringt. Es gibt Menschen da draußen die dir das Gefühl geben was ein anderer nicht geben konnte. Ich war mit dir glücklich, Aber ich wusste dass wir niemals mehr zusammen finden werden, ich danke dir auch für deine Ehrlichkeit gegenüber mir denn so konnte ich unser Kapitel abschließen und kann so neue Kapiteln aufschlagen. Ich werde unsere Geschichte immer in Erinnerung behalten und du wirst immer die Person sein an die ich denken werde wenn ich Einen Otter, einen Panda oder einen Eisbär sehe das verbinde ich mit dir und dass ist eingraviert und ich kann es nicht ändern. Ich danke dir auch dafür dass du sofort an Ort und Stelle warst wenn es um mich ging, das rechne ich dir hoch und heilig an. Du warst für mich da wenn ich dich brauchte &‘ du hattest recht über die Menschen mit denen ich umgeben war. Ich weiß du wolltest mich nur beschützen vor allem was mir schadet, denn genau das hat mich an dir gehalten. Ich hoffe dass du alles erreichst was du dir als Ziel gemacht hast. Ich werde immer stolz auf dich sein für dass wie du dich ins positive geändert hast und Ziele vor den Augen hast was man vor Jahren nicht gedacht hätte von dir. Ich hoffe dass du glücklich bist, und es geschafft hast mich loszulassen wie ich dich losgelassen habe. Ich hoffe du wirst jemanden finden die perfekt an deiner Seite passt, die du lieben wirst wie ich dich geliebt habe denn das ist dass schönste Gefühl was dir eine Person geben kann.

Ich würde lügen wenn ich sage dass es mir nicht weh tut, aber dass ist das beste für mich &‘ für dich, wir haben beide verschiedene Absichten, verschiedene Ziele und verschiedene Zukunft Vorstellungen. Das hier ist kein Abschied denn irgendwann werden sich unsere Wege wieder kreuzen.

Danke für alles!

~🐼

[bullet-prooflove]

Bathwater - Mike Duarte x OC

Tagging my beautiful and wonderful friend @the-hinky-panda who is having a shitty day.

Meredith is her OC who features in 'The North Star' in our Bronx Universe.

The bathwater felt luxurious across Mike aching flesh as he sank down into the depths of the gloriously hot water. The sensual bath oil that Meredith owned washed over his skin, working its magic on his exhausted form. He was more of a shower guy but there was definitely something to be said for baths.

It had been a sham of a day and he was tired, angry and pissed off. He could feel the Carrillo slipping through his fingers, the longer it went on. He thought he had a lead on a fence who worked out of a gallery called dot-art but it was taking too long. The Carrillo would be moved out the country soon and that infuriated him.

Mike closed his eyes against those thoughts. Now was the time to switch off from work and focus on his home life. He needed to relax otherwise he would allow this case to take over and he couldn't afford to let that happen to him again. The stress of it could lead to another seizure, and he didn’t want that, he had something to live for these days, someone.

He soaked for what seemed like hours before he found the strength to haul himself out of the bathtub. He grasped the towel on the silver rail beside it, drying his body before wrapping it around his waist and securing it.

The bedside lamp lit up his side of the bed. He frowned as his gaze shifted to Meredith who was already tucked under the covers. Her head was propped up on her hand as she watched him enter the room. His damp hair was jutting out in all directions from the heat of his bath, the white plush towel was hanging low on his hips. A thrill of heat pulsed through her at the sight of his almost nude body. The scars, the tattoos, they made up Mike’s story and Meredith loved every single one of them.

Mike knew exactly what he was doing to her, that wicked smile of his curving across his handsome features as Meredith smoothed over the sheets. She slinked across the bed towards him on her hands and knees. She was wearing that silky night dress that he adored so much. It draped across her skin, hugging her curves as she rose up on her knees in front of him. Her head tilted upwards as Mike peered down at her. Her dark red hair fell across her slender shoulders as Mike's hand cupped the apple of her cheek affectionately.

His thumb traced over the outline of her lips as he met your mischievous gaze. Her fingers reached for his towel, unhooking it with her fingers and allowing the material to fall to the floor.

"Opps." Meredith uttered.

Mike tipped his head down towards her, his lips brushed hers gently as he cupped her face between his calloused hands. Meredith's hands settled upon his hips to steady herself as Mike explored the heated, wet confines of her mouth. Her nipples were already hardening through the soft material as he guided Meredith back until she lay flat on her back underneath him.

Her kisses were like sunshine chasing away the dark cloud that hung over his head like a storm. Her caress was blistering as her teasing fingertips traced swirls all over his skin. He was hard, throbbing and wanting, he pressed against her moist core through the silk, gasping at the sensation of the luxurious material across his erection.

Mike's hands were smoothing up and down Meredith's thighs, his fingertips slipping under the fabric of her nightdress. Meredith's nails raked down his back igniting his nerves with fiery pleasure as he gripped her ass shifting her into the position he wanted.

"Now." Meredith whispered against his lips. "I want you inside me now."

"Patience." Mike tutted as he drew the nightdress even higher. "No panties?"

"I wanted you too much." Meredith confessed through ragged breaths.

Meredith's palms skated Mike’s blistering hot skin. Mike was dragging that silky nightdress over her head, tossing it completely from the bed as her thighs locked around his waist. His head dipped, capturing her left nipple between his lips and sucking it gently into his mouth before running his fervent tongue over the erect nub. Mike lavished Meredith's right breast with the same amount of attention before he arched his hips.

His aching erection was nudging against Meredith's moist core. Mike smothered her groan of ecstasy, kissing her pert pink mouth as he sunk into her tight wetness. Her hands were already sliding down the shape of his back until she cupped his ass, drawing him even deeper as she moved. Her teeth grazed his lower lip as he rocked against her in slow deliberate thrusts hitting that just the right spot.

Meredith's whimpers cascaded through the air, beneath his demanding lips. He kissed the corner of her mouth, the line of her jaw and the hollow of her throat before he covered her lips once more with his. Her whimpers were ringing in his ears as she moved to the rhythm of his thrusts. Being inside her always felt so fucking good and this woman was stealing away his heart all over again as they made sweet, passionate love.

[funbonded]

@somniaxperdita counted: ‘  don’t  you  threaten  me  with  a  good  time .

𝐥𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐬  𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 :  𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐞  𝐭𝐡𝐞  𝐯𝐞𝐢𝐥  

Funfred  would  tut  in  faux  astonishment.❝    A  goodtime,  my  dear?  No.  I'm  simply  threatening  you  with  a  FUNTIME!  ❞  He  cackled.  ❝      Which,  to  your  credit,  does  yield  a  lot  more  excitement  than  the  latter!❞  

As  far  as  threats  from  the  Funtime  panda  could  go  this  was  pretty  tame,  in  fact  he  had  arranged  a  nice  little  tea  party  with  cake.  What  else  to  celebrate  the  death  of  someone?  A  party  and  an  execution  in  one.  Or  the  party  after  the  wake  at  a  funeral.  Funfred  always  found  that  quite  humorous  that  humans  should  go  and  party  after  paying  their  respects  to  the  deceased.

He  motioned  around  the  table,  spiraling  around  Olivia.  He  is  a  showman  after  all,  even  with  someone  he  has  captured.  She's  not  currently  in  any  immediate  danger.  Merely  strapped  won  to  the  end  of  the  part  table.  Party  hats  aligned  and  paper  plates.  

❝    What's  life  without  a  little  death  and  what's  DEATH  without  a  little  CELEBRATION?  Care  for  some  cake?  ❞  He  offers  swinging  about  one  of  the  sharp  prongs  protruding  from  his  chest  cavity  and  gesturing  to  the  black  and  red  Birthday  cake,  red  fondant  mimicking  blood  drippings,  that  had  inscrawled  in  red  icing  the  words.  DEAD.  

[dietmar-unterwegs-4]

So weit die Füße tragen : Teil 4

Von Garmisch an den Gardasee

Tag 10: Von Edolo auf den Pass Tonale

Transfer bei Regenwetter

Der Geisterpass

Es wird nicht besser.

Ich humple immer noch und wir beschließen, einen Bus zum nächsten Ziel zu nehmen. Außerdem ist Regen angesagt. Ein Tag ohne große Anstrengung tut auch mal gut.

Beim Thema öffentlicher Nahverkehr zeigt Italien, wie es geht. Selbst kleinste Orte im Gebirge sind angeschlossen.Klar muss man hie und da ein paar mal umsteigen, aber die Busse rollen immer pünktlich vor und sind auch gut ausgelastet. Warum also funktioniert etwas im Österreich, der Schweiz und in Italien- in Deutschland aber nicht? Deshalb fahren die Italiener nun nicht sehr viel weniger Auto. Hier rollt jede Oma mit einem rostigen Fiat Panda herum.

Unser Tagesziel ist der Pass Tonale in knapp 2000 Metern Höhe. Es ist aber sehr viel mehr als nur ein Übergang auf höchster Höhe von einem Tal ins andere. Hier oben tobt im Winter der Ski-Bär. Es ist ein riesiges Wintersport-Gebiet mit allem was dazugehört: Lifte, Bars, Pizzabuden und Diskotheken. Doch es gibt ein Problem: im Sommer ist hier Tote Hose. Alles zu. Na fast alles. Und dann noch der Regen und der Nebel bei Temperaturen um die 7 Grad. Puuuuh. . Da hatten wir ja Glück , eine Bleibe und was zu essen zu kriegen. Die Blume des Tages war heute die rote Lichtnelke. Mensch des Tsges war jene Quartier-Wirtin,, die uns den Schlüssel per Internet vermittelte.

Mal sehn , wie es morgen weitergeht. Draußen regnet es in Strömen.

Da mach ich natürlich keine Fotos. Eure Augen sollen nur Schönes sehen!

[jotgeorgius]

Von Pandas und Flaschenpost.

Seit der Corona-Pandemie ist mein Interesse an Dating und dem ganzen Gedöns gänzlich erloschen. Würden mich andere nicht danach fragen, würde ich mir gar keine großen Gedanken darüber machen. Es ist jetzt nicht so, dass ich vor Corona der große Player war. Ich hatte zwar so meine Phasen wo ich einen "Lauf" hatte, doch war ich nie der Typ, der wie ein Hirsch in der Brunstzeit um die Weibchen herumschwirrte. Wenn sich was ergab, stand ich dem offen gegenüber, wenn nicht, ging das Leben auch weiter. Ich bin eigentlich eher ein Panda als ein Hirsch. Pandas sind nämlich sehr faul, was ihr Liebesleben angeht, was den Nebeneffekt hat, dass sie vom Aussterben bedroht sind. Nachtigall, ick hör dir trapsen. Es wirkt manchmal so als ob sich die Menschen der Realität entziehen wollen. Der Bildschirm oder die übergroßen Kopfhörer bieten dazu eine gute Gelegenheit. Sie signalisieren gleichzeitig an die Außenwelt "Sprich mich nicht an - HINFORT"! Natürlich ist das nicht immer die Reaktion, die man erhält, sollte man dennoch wagen diesen geschlossenen Kreislauf (Safe Space), durch Kontaktaufnahme, zu durchbrechen. Dennoch ist es gleich eine doppelte Hürde. Neben dem Ansprechen einer wildfremden Person - was an sich bereits eine Hürde ist - kommt hinzu, dass man sie erst Mal darum bitten muss, sich deiner anzunehmen - sei es über wildes Gestikulieren oder andere Art und Weisen. Nun bin ich mir aber schon bewusst, dass sich an der Situation nichts ändern wird, wenn ich keinerlei Risiko eingehe. Die heutige Zeit ist nun mal wie sie ist. Es bringt auch nichts sich in eine frühere Zeit (noch gar nicht so lange her) zurückzudenken, oder damit zu hadern wann man vielleicht eine falsche Entscheidung getroffen hat. Man kann nur heute anfangen Weichen zu stellen, damit die Zukunft besser wird. In meinem Fall muss sie gar nicht besser werden, denn ich bin zufrieden mit meinem Leben, sieht man von einzelnen Nebenkriegsschauplätzen, die das Leben in einer Zivilisation nun mal mit sich bringt, ab. Dem Online-Dating habe ich nie eine Chance eingeräumt. Für mich ist das reine Fleischbeschau. Durch die Schnelllebigkeit und Möglichkeiten jemand aus seinem Leben zu verbannen und Entscheidungen nicht ausformulieren zu müssen, indem man einfach nicht mehr antwortet, haben sich die Menschen in besorgniserregendem Maße verroht. Der Gegenüber wird vielmehr dazu genutzt, sein angeknackstes Ego wieder aufzupolieren, weil man im realen Leben, doch nicht so geliefert hat, wie online angekündigt, oder man geht schlicht in einem Überangebot an Männern unter. Ich entschloss mich dennoch mich bei einer Nischen-Seite anzumelden, die ich durch die Pandemie gefunden hatte. Das konnte ich ethisch mit mir vereinbaren. Der Gründer und Entwickler dieser Seite war mir sehr sympathisch. Da diese Seite nicht werberelevant ist, und er aktuell auch nicht daran arbeitet, dass sie es wird, war ich bereit zu einer Ausnahme. Der Aufbau ist nicht mal ansatzweise mit Tinder zu vergleichen. Während die werberelevante Dating-App mit größtmöglichem Komfort punkten kann, schlicht weil unzählige Entwickler täglich - gegen Bezahlung - daran arbeiten, wirkt es dort eher wie ein unfertiges Videospiel. Allerdings hat das seinen Charme. Ich schaue dort nicht regelmäßig rein, bin jedoch weiterhin registriert und erhalte Benachrichtigung wenn ich jemanden auffalle. Und eine junge Dame, der ich vor Wochen einen "Stern" zukommen ließ, erwiderte ihn vorgestern (29.03.2024). Ohne es zu hoch hängen zu wollen, der Ball liegt nun wieder in meiner Hälfte. Ich weiß auch, dass sie sich sicher mit dem einen oder anderen bereits getroffen hat. So läuft das eben. Mir ist jedoch klar, will ich die Zukunft ändern, muss ich bereits in der Gegenwart anfangen ins Handeln zu kommen. Ich werde wohl mal "Hallo" schreiben. "Hallo" kann man als Flaschenpost verstehen, die man ins Meer schmeißt. Niemand weiß was dabei herauskommt, es tut aber auch nicht weh.

[zeilen-gefluester]

Nach all den langen Jahren plötzlich jemanden in mein Leben zu lassen, zeigt mir wie einsam ich bin und das ist das was so unfassbar weh tut. Auf einmal wieder jemanden zu vermissen, auf die zufälligen Berührungen und die Wärme zu verzichten ist eine ganz andere Art von Schmerz.

21.01.24 *Panda

[ashleigghh]

Day 16- reindeer, 475 words. idk read the note on my ao3 I'm not feeling it today

“Can I have a pet reindeer?” Luna asks as she colours a Christmas book, her tongue poking out in concentration when she isn’t talking.

“Why?” Pandora looks up from her spot in the kitchen where she’s pouring plastic cups of lemonade for the three of them, she looks genuinely confused and it makes Regulus feel rather smug, he knows more about muggle holidays and understands what Luna’s learnt from her classmates more than Pandora does. 

“They can fly,” Luna says this like it’s obvious, in a tone so clearly picked up from her Aunt Dorcas that Pandora’s mouth drops open in shock a bit and Regulus has to stifle a laugh. 

“Yeah Panda, did you not know that?” Luna looks up as Regulus sides with her, holding up a hand for a high-five. Regulus obliges and she smiles, looking the spitting image of her mother. 

“Are you sure they can fly?” Pandora asks carefully, carrying over the cups and placing them on the short table, pressing a kiss to her daughter's head and running a hand over her hair before sitting down. 

“Yes, we saw it in the films,” Luna shrugs, and Regulus copies when Pandora shoots him an incredulous look. 

“Okay,” Pandora draws out the word, “And where would we keep it?” 

Luna hums thoughtfully, taking a few moments to finish her colouring and look up at the conversation, “It can stay with me in my room, ooh can I get bunk beds!” She squeals excitedly and Regulus sees Pandora actually bite her tongue to stop herself agreeing. 

“You’d have to take the top bunk, the reindeer can’t climb the ladder,” Regulus chimes in helpfully and Pandora kicks him under the table.

“Fine, okay now that that’s sorted, what would you feed them?” Luna sighs, tutting discontentedly in the manner of a middle-aged teacher fed up of explaining the same concept. 

“Reggie you have to help me, she knows nothing,” Regulus laughs as Pandora puts on a show of being offended and picks Luna up to sit in his lap while they talk, hugging her back to her chest and hooking his head over her shoulder. 

“Mum, we have to feed them candy canes, everyone knows that!” 

“They eat carrots too, so you don’t have to question about their health,” Regulus continues to support Luna’s points, interested to see how Pandora will wriggle her way out of this, or if she’ll end up with a reindeer in her garden by the end of the week. 

“They get lonely on their own, so I don’t think we’ll be able to, sorry my love.” Luna slumps in his arms, not saying anything else but clearly upset she hasn’t gotten her own way. With the way her family would do anything for her, it’s only a matter of time before Luna owns an entire herd of reindeer.

[moontopaz]

Step by Step ~

[bpinkee]

Doodle a Panda - Mini Tut

Doodle a Panda – Mini Tut

  It’s time to doodle a panda! This is such a sweet little tutorial, and the best thing? You can use this base to create all kinds of cute animals! Just three steps and you’ll have it made! Step 1 – Create a circle, perfect or a little wonky, personally I like when they are a little off. You can set the centre, and then pick a point a little above where the bottom of the circle touches your…

[funbonded]

❝ Apologize?! Hah. If only I wanted your lies and excuses. ❞ He mocks. It isn't right when the latter bear isn't opposing him. He hates it. Whenever Glamfred was sincere with him Funfred felt like it was false niceness, or even it was just pointless to be nice to each other to begin with. They both know that they much rather be at each others' hypothetical throats. If that's not happening because Freddy allegedly had 'bigger problems' than his demented, murderous panda counterpart then there's something seriously wrong.

He doesn't know what to feel more insulted with; that he isn't the one causing Glamrock's stress or that Glamfred doesn't trust him enough to be out with what's bothering him.

A tut from his speaker as he crosses his arms. How dull.

❝ Oh so now instead of making excuses for your coldness and neglect towards me you're now keeping secrets. AND to think I was going to give you something special. It's just not worth it.❞  No doubt it had been something twisted he had left for Freddy to find around the pizzaplex anyway. His footsteps bellow throughout the room, naturally heavier than Glamrock Freddy. ❝ You should know that I only like surprises when I'm the one dealing them. So what is it? What are you HIDING from me, Beefjerky? ❞  Again his voice wavers unstable. Demanding answers. 

Honestly... he's been far too paranoid of everything else that his response to the other came off quicker than he'd wanted it to. Freddy's frowning as best as he's able only to tilt his head slightly to the side in response to Funfred's first comment. ❝ I must apologize, my... programming has not let me rest recently and everything seems to be melding together in the end of it all. ❞ It would be a surprise for him to say he actually did want the visit from the other but he won't say such... yet.

❝ I could come visit you more often you know. I just got... well I just said it. I need a way to get rid of stress and no you are not the one causing it. ❞ this time... that's left unsaid as Freddy's just crossing his arms over one another.

❝ And no I am not saying that just to say it. ❞