#there are a lot of picture of them sleeping like that with baby goose at various ages and in various positions | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sparklingchim · 4 years ago

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fiery mornings; m | pjm

pairing: jimin × reader

word count: 3k

genre: smut, fluff, established relationship, idol!jimin

warnings: swearing, fingering, protected sex, some breast play

summary: waking up with jimin, but add a little spice to it 🌶

a/n: hello lovely people! i didn't proof read this because it's almost midnight for me now and i'm really tired but luckily tomorrow is saturday 😴 i hope you like it! and have a good morning, day, evening or night❤ i'm heading to bed now💤

masterlist

The sun peeking through the curtains and encasing the room with crumbs of light is what wakes you up.

These stupid blinds - that you hated as soon as you slept over at Jimin's place for the first time - were not doing their job properly. The sun overflowing his room every damn morning woke up everytime. You'd like to get more sleep because - let's not lie - Jimin and you don't go to sleep very early with both your needy and touchy hands when you lay in bed at night time. However, Jimin didn't care about your aversion against the blinds - he wasn't the one waking up due to them though... - and said something about them looking cozy and domestic.

You really tried to erase the thought of just ripping them down and buying him some new ones that don't let any sunlight shine so annoyingly in the room, but you hold back. But it's really tempting...

You stretch your arm to the nightstand, tapping on your phone to see what time it is. 7 am? Oh, how bad you want to rip these blinds off.

Nonetheless, the warmness of the sheets that you're both tucked under and Jimin's body radiating a comforting glow around you makes you stay in bed.

Jimin's arm is loosely wrapped around your stomach, his body pressed against you from the back. You glance back at him, his nose pressed against your spine and eyes still closed. Your heart softens at that doting sight, seeing him innocently sleeping. No worries in his mind, but only disguising his features in a tranquil state. Jimin is finally able to gett as much rest as he wants and needs after coming home from the tour.

You push some strands of his hair that are falling into his face away. The need to place kisses all over his puffy adorable face looms inside you, but you stop yourself from doing that, so you don't ruin his peaceful slumber that he's currently in.

Instead you could prepare some breakfast for him, so when he decides do wake up he has a delicious meal prepared for him. You think of some dishes that you could cook even though just staying in bed with him felt more enticing which also leads you to grab your phone despite your original plan to get up and start cooking breakfast. But there was no need to rush, Jimin won't wake up for approximately three more hours.

As you take your phone from the night stander you suddenly feel Jimin's grip on your stomach tighten. He lets out some displeased grunts, like a little child not pleased with something. You softly smile, rubbing soothing strokes with your thumb on his arm that's wrapped around you. Jimin nuzzles his face deeper into your back, sighing out in satisfaction.

God, he is so adorable.

You occupy yourself with your phone, checking social media and maybe salivating at some pictures from Jimin that you come across.

20 minutes pass, before you decide that it's time to start the day and prepare some breakfast for your boyfriend who still snoozes behind you, gaining all of his energy back after working so hard for months.

But then you feel something.

Eyebrows scrunched together, you try to make out what could possibly be poking you in this cuddly bed.

Oh.

Only spending a second on looking out for an answer to your oblivious question, you find the possible solution for that.

Jimin early-glory made it's appearance by being pressed against your butt, letting you feel his hard muscle.

Yeah, it was definitely about time to get up.

But when you prop myself up on your elbow, still laying on your side, you hear a muffled complaining sound behind you. To emphasize his need, Jimin's hold tightens on your belly again, just like he did before, though this time you actually attempted to leave the bed.

You squeeze his arm lightly to beguile him into letting you go. ,,I'm gonna make us breakfast, Minnie," you say whispering, tilting your head sideways, so you're able to look at Jimin. His eyes remain close, only parting is plump lips to mutter a little 'no'. You sigh out, head falling back onto the pillow. ,,It's not gonna take long," you try to convince him, even though the dishes you plan to cook would take a bit longer than normally.

,,Stay with me." Jimin's hoarse and raspy voice uttering its first full sentence this morning.

Then you seek to wiggle yourself out of his embrace, but it's pointless, because letting you go isn't even up for a debate in Jimin's mind.

,,Then there's no breakfast for you," you utter in defeat. Jimin doesn't answer, suddenly placing soft kisses over the crook of your neck. His sudden sweet kisses cause goose bumps spread all over your body, the tingling feeling automatically relaxing you, although laying in bed with Jimin is already so calming.

,,I'm only hungry for you right now," he says. Your cheeks flush at that cheesy comment, but luckily he can't see your reaction towards his words, knowing he would be smirking and teasing the shit out of you. Jimins usual cute and endearing way of waking up is vanished and instead he pulled out his charms to make you melt for him.

Jimins hand traces over your clothed stomach, heading down to you leg to stroke his fingers up to your thigh, pushing his shirt that you're wearing slightly up. His feather light touch induces shivers down your spine. The accentuating tension effects your whole composure, evoking you into pushing your ass back onto his bulge which results in Jimins body stiffening behind you. The impetuous act caught him off guard, but he relishes in the satisfying friction, coaxing him into the blissful thrill he was all too familiar with.

,,You want this?" Jimins tone was low, turning you on even more.

,,Yes, please," you beg, grinding your ass on his hard length. You both breath heavily, the pleasure building in a fast pace.

Soon your pussy burns in need, desiring to be filled with his huge cock. Your movements of his dick gliding through your clothes pussy makes your wetter by the seconds. It doesn't require much till Jimin has enough of the teasing rubbing and shoves the comforter away from your bodies.

,,I love you," Jimin murmurs, placing little kisses over your neck once again. He gently sucks at your skin, only for a brief moment though, not wanting to cause a mark on your flesh before he darts his tongue out and licks over the slightly flush skin.

,,I love you too," you reply breathless. You don't stop your ministrations. You can't desist when the sensation of his cock was getting you so riled up, brewing you into so much pleasure. Last night you were sceptical when Jimin didn't put on any clothes after your little rendezvous, but it really had its perks having him naked behind you.

Jimin hand wanders further, fingers toying with the side of your panty. Once his fingers get a hold of the thin material, he pushes them down in a swift motion. You help him to get the panties completely off and toss them away with your feet. Jimins hand lifts your leg up a bit, his hand hovering over your warmth, but not attempting to do anything yet. You fuss beneath him, craving his touch.

,,Are you sore from last night?"

,,No." You are. But not too much and your mind is too clogged up with the anticipation that builds for the pleasurable feeling Jimin is able to give you.

,,You're sure?"

,,Yeah, please touch me."

At your wish Jimins finger rubs up and down over your slit, coating his finger with my arousal. A little moan escapes your mouth. You enjoy the feeling of his digit touching your slick folds, gathering all your juices. When you feel his thumb circling your swollen sensitive bud, your legs tremble and you sink your teeth into your bottom lip. Jimins index finger makes it way into your entrance. Your aching walls immediately clench around it, acting as needy as ever.

,,Shit," Jimin curses under his breath. ,,You're always so ready for me, baby." How could you not when a men like that was laying next to you in bed?

You let out a strangled moan when he plunges another finger inside you, his pace slow but steady. Jimin crooks his fingers, hitting that lovely spot every time he shoves his fingers back inside your quivering hole.

,,Just like that," you pant, your hand gripping his arm between your legs. Jimins fingers pick up on speed, your moaning spurring him on.

It doesn't take a lot of time till he gets you at that certain point, the familiar knot in your stomach growing quickly. Your body chases after your high, but you desperately want to cum on his cock, so you squeeze his arm gently and Jimin slows his pace.

,,I- I want to cum on your cock," you manage to say and he stops moving his fingers, withdrawing them after. Your body instantly misses the penetration and you whine at the loss of contact.

,,Shh, I'm gonna give it to you, baby," he soothes you, propping himself on his arm to slightly hover over you. You shift your head to see his awaken state for the first time that morning.

Jimins hair hangs into his forehead again, a tired but sincere smile on his face and his eyes puffy from his sleep. A smile immediately appears on your lips at when you look into his loving eyes, his whole being radiating so much comfort and contentment.

With Jimin you felt like it was you final destination. There was nothing else in this world that could give you more than what he was capable of giving you. Nothing in this world could compare to Jimins love. His love was tightly swathed around you and never vanished since the day you both knew that the tension between you was more than just a friendship. No day would pass in which he wouldn't jostle all his adoration to you and show you how much you meant to him. Jimin could never get tired of showering you in all the devotion he has allocated for you, he loved you after all.

You lace your fingers through his soft hair and for a few seconds it stays like that, pushed back on his head, but then it falls down onto his forehead again. Jimin stays still and watches how you play with his hair, until he can't prolong his desperate need to get some friction on his throbbing cock.

,,Can your grab a condom?" he asks and pecks your forehead briefly. You nod and quickly turn to the nightstand on your side, fishing a condom out of the drawer. You hand it to him and rips the package, doing fast work in wrapping the plastic around his member and tossing the useless package somewhere behind his back.

Jimin preps a few kisses on your jawline, making his way to your lips and every so gently capturing your mouth into a tender kiss. You share a passionate and slow kiss together, savouring the moment of being together again after being apart for months. He dips his tongue in, both of your wet muscles tangling tighter.

When you both need to break the kiss, Jimin doesn't intend to go for another, but raises your leg higher and alignes the tip of his cock on your entrance.

,,Oh my God," you breath out.

Jimin slides his cock up and down your folds, gathering your arousal before he's back on your entrance, slowly pushing in. He breathes heavily, your tight walls latching onto his cock so securely. The more his thick length sinks inside your needy warmth, the presence of the soreness from yesterday night makes itself perceptible. Jimin stretches your walls till he's completely buried inside of you. He stills once he's balls deep in, giving you time to adjust to his size.

,,You're good, baby?" he makes sure, looking you in the eyes. You nod slowly, the feeling of his dick being completely in making it hard to let out any words.

When there's still no attempt of moving from Jimin, you tap his arm that has a hold of your leg in the air. ,,Go on please," you whisper, needing to feel his deep thrusts.

After he hears your wish, desperation lingering in your voice, Jimin bottoms out till only his tip is left inside, but quickly pushes back again. The longing feeling finally getting stilled with his tangy thrusts. Jimin continues his movements, his hips snapping faster and faster from behind you and you just feels so good.

,,Lift your leg for me," he instructs, before leaving his hold on your leg to slide his fingers under your - well, technically his- shirt and palms your breast. Jimin pinches and rolls your nipples between his digits, coaxing louder moans out of you. He furrows his eyebrows, you sweet tones prodding him more on. He relishes in the fact that he is the one making you feel this way, making you moan so sweetly for his hear only. Jimin lets out breathy moans, his pace rapid and hard.

Your hand wanders around his neck, tucking at his hair and he answers with soft groans. Then you push the back of his head closer to yours, pressing your lips against his plush ones and kissing him hungrily. You feel yourself getting closer, you're body reaching your high in a short span of time. Of course Jimin feels it, your walls clenching around his member and greedily wanting to milk him are way too obvious. You retract from the kiss, shutting your eyes close when all the sensations overcome you. Jimin lets go of your breast to nestle his hand between your thighs and soon you feel his thumb circling on your clit.

,,Cream all over me," Jimin murmurs.

The added pleasure on your sensitive bud makes you mewl, biting your lip really hard.

The slick sounds of your pussy getting hammered by Jimins cock and his skin slapping against yours fill the room. Combined with your moans and his breathy sound, makes you so much hornier and all you want to do is to cum around his big cock.

,,I'm- I'm gonna cum!" you warn him, the knot in your stomach getting so close to finally snap.

,,Me too," he pants, his thrusts going faster.

Jimins length kisses your cervix every time his hips shoot back into you. ,,Shit, look at me."

Your head instantly tilts to him, meeting his eyes that were already locked on your face. Your eyebrows knit together, the sharp thrusts of his body making you so close to reach your end. Jimin sinks his teeth into his plump bottom lip, never breaking the intense eye contact with you. Fuck, he looked so hot and stunning.

After a few more hard and deep thrusts, your climax approaches and your hand wanders to his shoulder, digging your nails into his skin. Your legs start to tremble and his hand that was playing with your clit, leaves the wet place to hold your leg up when you have trouble keeping it high because of all the sensations shooting in your body.

,,Jimin!" you cry, heavy pants following.

It doesn't take long for him to come undone too - only a few thrusts later he spills his cum into the condom, making you feel the way he twitches your quivering hole. Jimin groans loud and nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, letting go of holding my leg up. And just like that you both lay there - breathing heavily, bodies fully spent and coming down from your high.

Jimins hand wander to your face, cupping your cheek and rubbing soothing strokes with his thumb on your flush skin. He plants a few kisses on your neck, whispering sweet nothings into your ear. Your body tingles, his breath fanning over your skin creating goose bumps over it.

Ever so slowly he bottoms his now softened length out of your walls, your sensitiveness causing you to shiver.

,,It's okay baby, I've got you," he coos, giving your cheek a peck.

You turn around, now laying on your back and looking into his brown orbs. They have this beautiful glisten in them, making me feel like I'm safe when I'm with him. His eyes are full of love. And he could say the same to you.

You both exchange some more smooches here and there, being all cuddly and acting like you didn't already say I love you for a hundred of times in the past already. Your heart flutters every time he says something sweet, grazes his fingers over your skin or plasters sweet kisses all over you.

After some time Jimin stands up, discarding the condom in a bin and throws some boxers on. Then he grabs tissues and comes back to the bed, digging his knee on the mattress and spreading your legs. He tugs your shirt up to clean you and when Jimin is done with that he pushes the white fabric down again.

,,I'm definitely not gonna prepare breakfast now," you say when he turns around to get rid of the dirty tissue.

,,I can do it," Jimin answers, turning to you again. His abs were on full display and you can't prevent yourself from looking at his firm chest before looking into his eyes again.

,,Mhm, you can?" you cock an eyebrow.

,,You don't think I'm able to make the same breakfast as you?" he asks back.

,,Of course I think you can to it, babyy," you tease him and giggle after he furrows his eyebrows, an angry pout displayed on his lips.

,,I'm gonna show you," he says competitively and leaves the room, making his way to the kitchen.

And yes, he did indeed show you.

In fact, he showed you the burned rice he attempted to cook.

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tinyhousegirl · 2 years ago

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Grief

Grief by @allyxstebo

Synopsis: Grief hit them all in different ways. They knew Carole was hurting, Maverick was spiraling. But nobody talked about Ice's quiet plummet into the darkness.

A/N: A short 1.7k drabble about Ice grieving Goose's death. Ice x Mav platonic, mentions of Carole, Bradley, Sarah. Like what you're reading? Buy me a brick!

TW: Major Character Death, mentions of blood, grief

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Goose’s death rocked the world. He left behind a loving wife and a young son. He was just weeks away from graduating from the most prestigious Naval program with his best friend. The aviator would have had his choice of assignment, and had told Maverick he wanted to be closer to Virginia Beach where Carole and Bradley lived. Maverick would have followed him to the end of the world. But then the accident happened, ending his vibrant life abruptly.

Grief hit them all in different ways.

Carole clung to Bradley; the blond boy looked more and more like his father everyday. She made sure their photos of Goose were placed in such ways that Bradley could see them at his short toddler height throughout their home. The flag from the funeral was hung proudly over the mantle. She suppressed tears every time she saw it, but would never ever take it down. She fell asleep most nights clutching his dog tags.

Maverick flew a lot. He started flying as a solo pilot soon after he washed out of the Top Gun instructor program. He found it easier on his conscience to fly when he didn’t have a backseatter to worry about bringing home safely.

Every day the grief became a little easier. Until one night.

Carole called him sobbing about three months after Goose’s death. Bradley had asked ‘who’s that?’ at a picture of Goose and Carole on their wedding day, when he had shaved the iconic mustache, and her heart broke. She didn’t want her baby to forget his father. Maverick had never dropped what he was doing so fast to make it across the country to be with them.

He brought toy planes and photos of their time in the Navy to show to Bradley, and told the little boy about all of their escapades, PG and toned down, of course. Bradley fell asleep cuddling one of the planes, and Maverick held Carole on the couch as they both mourned their loss all over again.

Every day the grief became a little easier. Until one night.

Maverick was laying on the couch in the tiny one bedroom house he bought in San Diego. After a long day of flying, he didn’t have it in him to meet friends at the bar. Instead he dozed off while combing through a book on how to fix up a P-51 Mustang, the beautiful plane he was looking to purchase with his next Navy bonus.

The dark haired aviator was so close to sleep when a heavy pound on the front door echoed in the quiet house. He peered at his watch - almost three in the morning. It was a hot Saturday night, he was sure it was some group of ding dong ditchers making their rounds through his neighborhood again. But the pounding continued.

He begrudgingly stood up and walked to the door, ready to scold whoever decided to disturb a Naval aviator on his weekend. What he didn’t expect to see was Ice, hair tousled, clothes a mess, and barely able to stand on his own two feet on the porch. His eyes were bloodshot and dilated, and Pete could smell the alcohol on his breath.

“Ice? What the hell are you doing here, man?” The blond pilot stumbled forward slightly, Maverick’s quick reflexes being the only thing to stop Ice’s face and the doorframe from making out. “Woah, man. You good?”

“I killed him, Mav.” The voice was quiet yet hardened.

Pete’s eyebrows knit in confusion at the odd confession from his friend. “What the hell are you talking about? Did you fight somebody at the bar?” He had just seen Ice earlier in the day; they had flown most of their training simulations together. He couldn’t have possibly gotten in this much trouble since then?

The taller pilot’s whole body was shaking against Maverick’s steady arms. The breath coming out was even shakier as the pilot shook his head. “No, no, no. I-I killed him. It’s all my fault. I killed him.”

Maverick let out an exasperated sigh. “Ice, you’re making no sense. Who did you kill?”

“Goose.”

Pete’s stomach dropped, the grief flooding his entire system with adrenaline. It was slowly getting easier to breathe day by day, but when the waves of grief came around, it just as easily crushed him under the weight of guilt that loomed in his shadow since July 29th. No amount of Naval documents proving he wasn’t at fault could convince him that Goose didn’t die because of his recklessness. He could never blink away the view of Goose’s lifeless body being pulled up to the helicopter. Couldn’t wash his hand raw enough to get the feeling of his blood off his hands. Couldn’t stop hearing the twenty one gun salute in the quiet of the night, ringing and ringing with the pounding of his chest when the nightmares would come in full force.

Maverick opted not to respond, instead hooking his shoulder under Ice’s arm. He led the stumbling pilot inside to the couch, collecting his clutter of manuals and books onto the coffee table. The dark haired aviator grabbed a glass, filling it with water from the tap. Ice took the cup quietly, chugging it without a thought. The energy in the air wasn’t enough to sober him, and Mav could see the gears still turning slowly in his friend’s eyes.

Mav leaned in, bumping shoulders with him gently. “Talk to me, Ice.”

“It was my fault.” Ice’s voice was barely a whisper, lost to the winds of the ocean air against the siding of the house. “I should have pulled away earlier, given you the shot. I killed him.”

“Ice, you read the reports. You didn’t kill him.” Maverick’s voice came out thick and slow. He tried to suppress the forming lump at the back of his throat, the tunnel vision forming around his head, the burning of his fingertips.

“To hell with what the Navy thinks. It was my jet wash. My mistake.”

Maverick could tell this was eating him up. In the few months that they had been training together, Ice became his closest friend, his confidante. You learned to not have any boundaries in the military. These men became your brothers, thicker than blood, and you’d do anything for them. Goose was his brother. Ice was, too.

“Why is this just now coming up? You went through this shit with me, why wouldn’t you say anything?” It’d been almost a year since the accident. God, a whole year. Ice had stood by Maverick’s side through the worst of it. He had convinced the stubborn aviator to at least try talking to a grief counselor, or a therapist, or the goddamn VA. Someone that could understand why Pete would wake up screaming in the barracks some nights. He went to a few sessions, but it didn’t compare to how therapeutic the skies became for him. Ice had caught him a few times having full conversations with Goose, as if the man was still in his backseat. His head was just so much clearer at 30,000 feet. “Ice-”

“Sarah’s pregnant.” A single tear ran down his cheek, prompting him to wipe it away immediately. “She told me last night.”

“Hey, that’s amazing news. You’ve been trying for a while now, you’re gonna be a dad!” Mav smiled, jabbing his elbow into his friend’s side lightheartedly, trying to get him to smile for the first time all night.

“I orphaned a kid, Maverick.” The admission barely escaped his lips as the sob that followed took over. “I killed his father and I’m just supposed to carry on with my life and be present in my own kid’s life knowing what I did to Bradley? He’s too young. He won’t even remember him.”

“Tom, look at me.” Maverick ordered sternly. The use of his actual name got his attention. “Don’t go down this hole. Please. It doesn’t bring him back, but it’ll take you down with it. Don’t do that to Sarah, to your baby. Bradley will be okay. He’s still got us.”

Don’t do this to me, Maverick didn’t say, but the begging tone in his voice communicated it nonetheless. They’d both seen how grief could consume a man, tear him to shreds until nothing was left but an empty body. Some days getting out of bed was the hardest damn thing to do. Carole and Bradley had stayed in California for a few weeks with Maverick to grieve together, but they eventually flew home to Virginia and Maverick finally allowed himself to crash. He didn’t remember most of his one-month leave between the Enterprise mission and his first day as instructor. Ice couldn’t find him for a week, considered filing a missing persons report, and thought the worst. Until Maverick showed up at his door in a similar manner to the way Ice had tonight. It was the first time Sarah had officially met the man, and the Kazanskys took in the pilot without hesitation. They’d truly been his guardian angels.

It was Ice’s turn to bump his shoulder. “Hey, I know that look. I promise.” Maverick nodded, meeting Ice’s eyes finally. The bloodshot was fading, and only showed his determination behind his words. “I love you, Mav.”

“I love ya too, Ice. I’m glad you came to me.”

The blond pilot suppressed the sniffle in his voice as he finally let a smile slip through the sadness. He couldn’t help but chuckle, the drastic realization of his life changing finally sobering him. “God, Mav, I’m gonna be a dad. How the hell am I supposed to raise a baby?!”

The aviators both laughed, talking nonsense way into the sunrise when Ice finally said his goodbyes to catch a few hours of sleep with his expecting wife. Maverick would wait a few hours before calling Carole, wanting nothing more than the four year old voice of his nephew to calm his soul. Maybe he’d tell Bradley about the MiG today.

Maybe the grief didn’t always get easier. But today he wouldn’t let himself fall back in that hole.

---

#top gun #pete maverick mitchell #tom iceman kazansky #icemav #platonic #maverick #iceman #nick goose bradshaw #goose #carole bradshaw #top gun 1986 #major character death #grief #allyxstebo #buy me a coffee

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babybluebex · 4 years ago

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quad cuddle puddle [tom holland fluff]

➽ pairing: dad!tom holland x fem!reader ➽ word count: 2.5k ➽ summary: tom forgets his birthday, so you and your twin sons help him remember. ➽ warnings: EXTREME FLUFF, dad!tom to boys with super curly hair :,)) ➽ a/n: this entire thing makes me go uwu wow i nEED dad!tom

“‘Morning, Mummy.”

There was a swift kiss placed on my cheek, accompanied by the smell of Tom’s shampoo, and I watched my husband pick up a mug and hand it to me. “‘Morning, babes,” I mumbled. “You’re up early.”

“The lads wanted me to make them breakfast before football,” Tom shrugged. “Their eyes got all big and they started pouting; you know how it goes.”

“And where would the lads be?” I asked, sipping at the warm earl grey in a mug that declared Tom to be the world’s best daddy.

“Garden,” Tom said. “Running around with Tess.”

I nodded and placed the tea down, and I captured Tom’s arm in a hug. I sighed heavily, and I whispered, “Let me think. We have a football match today, yes? Anything else?”

“Not that I’m aware of,” Tom said, nestling his mouth into my messy hair.

My heart thrummed. He had forgotten, which was so typical of him. Tom Holland would forget his head if it wasn’t screwed onto his neck. “Silly old bear,” I giggled. “Old, old bear.”

“Hey,” Tom squeaked. “I’m not that old!”

“Are you sure?” I asked. Just then, I saw Tessa in a blur, rushing past the sliding glass door, quickly followed by Theodore and William. “You’re not forgetting something?”

“Christ on a cracker, Y/N,” Tom chuckled. “Am I?”

“I’d say so,” I told him, unwrapping myself from around his arm. “But what exactly?” I turned and stuck my tongue out at him as I walked backwards towards the door, and Tom’s eyebrows knitted together as he mumbled to himself.

As soon as I opened the door, I heard shouts of “Mummy!” and Tess’s baying at my entrance. Tom and I had just started dating when he got Tess and all of the Hollands said that I was her true owner, more so than Tom. She always came running to me with tail wagging and drool dripping. My boys weren’t much different in their greetings.

I kneeled to the ground and was tackled by a 40 pound boy. Theodore was the oldest twin, but he was still über attached to me. A lot of other boys at school and football were starting to shed their mothers, but my Theo was always at my hip. I didn’t mind one bit, of course. Even when Theo gets to be older with his own family, I’d still gladly let him hold my hand. “Hi, Mummy,” Theo said with a toothy grin.

“Hi, my darling,” I smiled back and I ruffled up his tawny curls. “Did Daddy brush your hair?”

“Yeah,” Theo nodded quickly. “Liam’s too.”

I looked over Theo’s shoulder to see my other boy Liam laid on the grass and wrestling with Tess. William was younger by a half hour and was a bit smaller than Theo, but everything else was identical. Same brown curls that turned caramel in the summertime, dark brown eyes, freckles and button noses and-- as much I hated to say it-- crooked teeth. Tom had had braces when he was young, as did I, and I hated the thought that my boys would have to endure that. Theo and Liam were the spitting image of their father, hardly anything left for me to contribute to them, but I didn’t mind. Having the house full of Tom and a pair of Tom clones made me happy.

Liam’s hair was a mess just like Theo’s, and I laughed softly. Liam’s hair was getting long, to about his shoulders, and I briefly wondered if he would let me braid his hair before his match, but the thought was interrupted by Tom from the door. “Lads!” He called. “Breakie!”

Our boys raced to the door and careened to get their food, and I hung back at Tom’s side. “Theo said you brushed their hair,” I said.

“Yeah,” Tom said. “Wanted to let you sleep.”

“Hmm,” I hummed softly. “Did you dress them too?”

“Yeah,” Tom nodded. “Why do you ask?”

“Liam’s shirt is backwards,” I said, stifling my laugh.

“What? No,” Tom said quickly. “No, I-- The logo’s on the back, isn’t it?”

“No, my love, the logo is on the front of their kit,” I told him.

“Yeah, Daddy,” Liam chimed in, climbing up into the stool at the counter. “Logo’s on the front, or how else will you see it?”

Tom scoffed and playfully rolled his eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me, you goose?” he said and lightly tickled Liam’s side. Where Theo was a momma’s boy, Liam was a daddy’s boy through and through. He had always been that way, ever since he was born; I could hold him, Dominic and Nikki could try, we even let Harry, Sam, Patty, and Harrison have a crack at it, but Liam only ever stopped his awful wailing when Tom held him. There was a time when the boys were two and Liam absolutely refused to wear clothes unless they matched Tom’s. That led to several months of candid paparazzi pictures and headlines about how Liam was basically Tom’s Mini-Me. That was a hidden perk to marrying and having children with a famous actor: I could never run out of pictures of Tom or him with our boys. “You goose!”

“You’re the goose, Daddy,” Liam giggled. “‘Cause you forgot--”

“Liam,” I giggled, snuffling into his neck. “Let Daddy remember for himself.”

“You’re killing me,” Tom laughed. His eyes wrinkled at the corners as he smiled, and he turned his attention towards Theo. “How’re you liking those eggs there, T?”

“There’s some shell in them, Daddy,” Theo said, patting the scrambled eggs with his fork. “They’re crunchy.”

“Isn’t that how Uncle Sammy makes your eggs?” Tom asked. “I could have sworn he told me that you liked your eggs extra crunchy.”

“No,” Theo said, his cheeks turning pink as he giggled. “I didn’t say that.”

“We can get something to eat on the way to football,” I offered. “I think today’s worth celebrating, right, lads?”

Luckily, Theo and Liam had caught on, and they nodded. “What’re we celebrating?” Tom sighed. “Why won’t you just tell me?”

“I’ll give you three guesses,” I told him. I began to carefully plait up Liam’s hair, and I watched the gears turning in Tom’s head.

“It’s not our anniversary,” Tom began. His nose scrunched up, and he mumbled, “And it’s not any birthdays… Theo. Is it your birthday today?”

“No,” Theo giggled.

“Liam? Is it yours?” Tom asked, his brown eyes twinkling.

“No! Theo and I have the same birthday!”

“Oh yeah. Duh. Not yours, I know that…” Tom said, looking at me, and his eyes suddenly widened. “Is it my birthday?”

“Happy birthday, Daddy!” Liam exclaimed. I had seen him ready to burst with it, and the look on Tom’s face was unforgettable. It was glee, the most potent and joyful glee.

“How did I forget my own birthday?” Tom laughed. “Is that why you called me old?”

“You’re getting there, love,” I said, pressing my finger to his chin.

“You’re mean,” Tom told me, and I wound my arms around him.

“But you deal with it somehow,” I said, and Tom nodded.

“How do I manage?” Tom sighed, and he leaned down and quickly kissed my cheek. With that, the boys groaned, and Tom rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, Mummy and Daddy are gross, I know. You’ll understand one day.”

The glass door was open as I sat on the couch, a July evening breeze warming the room. Theo and Liam had won their football match, and we all had gone to lunch with Tom’s family and Harrison (who was an honorary Holland at this point). I could hear my husband and sons in the back garden playing, with a bark from Tess every so often, and I looked down at my book. Then, there was an exaggerated yell from the yard, and Tom called, “They’ve got me! I’m being attacked! Mummy, help! Oh, Jesus, Tess, that’s my mouth.”

When I looked into the yard, I saw Tom splayed out on the grass, twins sitting on his chest as Tessa was licking all over his face. Theo and Liam loved to wrestle with Tom, even though they always won, and it had become a nightly routine ever since we realized that the boys were out like a light about half an hour after the whole thing.

“How’d you get yourself into this?” I asked. “I thought Spiderman was a really good fighter.”

“Not when-- Tess, stop the licking, please-- not when he’s ambushed by clones,” Tom said, pushing Tessa away, but she went right back to licking his forehead. “Genetically modified clones!”

“Oh, dear,” I playfully sighed.

“We’ve got you, Spiderman!” Theo cried.

“You might’ve caught me,” Tom began, wrapping a muscled arm around each boy. “But I… Am… Spiderman!” With that, he worked himself to his feet, each son under his arm, and he began to spin in circles as they screamed with glee. I’m not sure either Theo or Liam would ever get over their dad being Spiderman. I remember taking them to set when they could barely walk and having Zendaya and Jacob go all heart-eyes over the “baby Toms”, but Liam had been in a world of his own that day. He clung to Tom’s leg nearly all day, and, whenever Tom was able to take off the mask. Liam just looked up at him and giggled. Theo also liked the fact that his dad was Spiderman; he had told me once that it made him feel safe and happy, and that spoke volumes to me.

Tom was terrified when I first told him that I was pregnant. We were young; he was only 19 and had just officially landed the role of Spiderman hardly a month before. I was scared out of my wits as well, but I knew that Tom’s heart was good and that he would be a loving father; not to mention I had a whole clan of Hollands behind me to catch Tom if he started slipping up. The first few doctors appointments he missed, due to Civil War filming, and when he finally had a break at the same time as an appointment, he held my hand the entire time. The doctor had passed the wand over my swelling belly and, after a moment, there was the faintest heartbeat. Tom cried. He often cried when it came to our boys. Then, when the second heartbeat joined, that’s when panic started to come in. Twins. We were hardly adults, Tom had a new job, I was still a uni student, and we were fit to have twins. It all seemed impossible.

Until Civil War was released. Tom-Mania extended to the far corners of the globe, and suddenly there were millions of people backing us. His management team around him was advising him on how to tell his new fans that I was pregnant, but Tom, in typical fashion, didn’t listen to any suggestions and opted instead to post a picture of me on his story with my sweatpants pulled under my big belly, crying about Toy Story. And everyone loved them. Theodore Dominic Holland and William Thomas Holland were more loved than they could ever fathom and now, at five years old, they continued to amass a fanbase of their own.

According to routine, after our nightly wrestling was bath time (translation: Liam tries to take a shower like a big boy but always ends up needed help washing his hair, so either Tom or I sit in there for half an hour and let him do his thing until he calls upon us), and, if need be, a small snack. When Tom was training for a movie, I tried to keep the whole family on a semi-similar diet, but you could definitely tell when Tom had wrapped a movie just by the state of our larder. It was usually at the pre-bedtime snack that the Oreos were brought out, even if I tried in vain to get them to have a bit of orange. My self control was fairly weak, however, and I gave into the cookies every time.

And then, the main event. Bedtime. The boys had gotten into a habit of falling asleep in our bed and having us tuck them into their own, but lately, we kept “forgetting” to move them and ended up letting them sleep with us. Two adults, two children, and a dog didn’t leave much room, but we made it work. I was extra conscious of small moments like waking up with little boy drool on my chest, because I knew that there would come a day when I didn’t have that. One day, my boys would grow up and would maybe tolerate a hug at times, and I wanted to savor the moments I had with them.

Tom read them a story every single night. Lately, at the recommendation of their school teacher, we had begun to read them chapter books, and they were nearly halfway through the first Lord of the Rings book already. The time it took to read a chapter was enough for me to manage a shower, and then I would make sure they stayed down while Tom did the same.

Usually I did. Sometimes, like tonight, Tom fell asleep while reading.

He was laying in bed, his legs crossed at the ankle, propped up against the pillows. Liam was nestled in the crook of his right arm, sucking the corner of his blankie, and Theo was in his left. The sight of all three of my boys sleeping together made tears well in my eyes. If I thought they looked alike when they were awake, it was nothing compared to when they were asleep. Tom’s cheeks went red when he slept, usually if he was having a good dream, and Theo and Liam had inherited that. The universe really said copy-paste with my boys. Sometimes, I would hear Liam or Theo say something, and I could’ve sworn that my husband was the one to utter it.

I stopped briefly to take a picture of the affair, topped off with a toppled book, and I quickly sent it to Nikki. I was nowhere near as good of a photographer as she was, but I knew that she appreciated the little candid moments in our house that she couldn’t capture. Then, moving slowly so as to not wake the sleeping boys, I slipped under the blankets. Tom gave a little snuffle in his sleep and his eyes opened slowly. He looked at me, then at his sons, and he sighed. “How long s’I asleep?” He mumbled, smacking his lips.

“I only just got out of the shower,” I whispered. “Couldn’t have been more than 10 minutes.”

“Goodness, I’m sorry, love,” Tom whispered.

“For what?” I asked. “You had a big day, Mr. Birthday Boy.”

“Dunno,” Tom said, and he brushed a hand over Theo’s curls. “I’m just exhausted.”

“Go to sleep, my love,” I whispered. “I think they’re gonna sleep really well tonight, what do you think?”

“Yeah,” Tom whispered.

I scooted closer to the trio and put an arm over Theo and across Tom’s stomach so that my hand could reach Liam’s side. We had perfected the art of a quadruple cuddle puddle. “I love you.” I whispered.

“Love you, Mummy,” Theo mumbled, his little voice oh-so quiet, and a tear escaped my eye. Oh, how I loved my babies so.

#tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland fluff #uwu #peter parker #spiderman #marvel #mcu #chaos walking #cherry #nico walker #tessa holland #she makes an appearance #and it brings me so much joy that she has her own tag #😭

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hotchseyebrows · 3 years ago

Text

it's a matter of seeing

a derek morgan x penelope garcia fic

a/n: hello again beloveds !!! today i present to you Another derek and penelope are kissing for the first time fic. what can i say, it's simply the best. thank you as always to the spectacular @blkantigone for being my supportive and helpful first reader and editor, love youuu! thank all of you for reading (im getting faster between uploads, have you noticed?)

title is from emily l. by marguerite duras. full line is "I don't know if love's a feeling. Sometimes I think it's a matter of seeing. Seeing you."

rating/warnings: gen audiences :) two vague allusions to sex but nothing even close to explicit, its more just in the way it exists in the background and derek is injured but it's superbly minor

read it here on ao3!

Derek steps closer to Penelope. “You had to see me. With your own eyes.”

Penelope rolls her eyes. “Yes, silly goose, that’s the usual way of seeing.”

Derek gets hurt on a case, and Penelope worries. He's fine, but she still worries.

word count: 2028

Derek glances at the time on his phone. Almost midnight, though it could be closer to 4 a.m. for how tired the team is tonight. A long case in Colorado kept them away from home for almost two weeks, and all Derek wants is to pet his dog and sleep in his own bed.

“Could this elevator ride be any slower?” Emily groans from where she’s leaning on the wall behind him.

“You know, Prentiss, I could have just gotten a late night taxi or grabbed one of the last trains.” Spencer is rocking back and forth on his heels next to her, a yawn growing on his lips.

“Nuh uh, kid, I’m getting you home whether you like it or not. I just wish you didn’t need that notebook from your desk tonight.”

“Sorry,” Spencer says, cringing slightly. Derek looks back to see Emily nudge his shoulder with a fond grin. Spencer’s shoulders relax.

“Why are you coming up, Hotch?” Derek asks the man in the opposite corner from Emily.

“Files.” Hotch stays facing the elevator door, only glancing at Derek.

“No way are you planning on staying here and working tonight– Hotch. We’ve been gone for two weeks–” (“Almost two weeks,” says Spencer. Derek waves him off.) “– you should be going home.”

“I’m just grabbing a few things. I’ll get back on this elevator with you.” Hotch glances at the time on his own phone then, unlocking it to open a text message from Jess. Derek sees a picture of smiling Jack for a split second before he looks away. “Jess is already expecting me.”

Derek hums in acknowledgement. He rolls his shoulder as the doors open and they walk towards the bullpen together.

“Shoulder still hurting, Morgan?” Emily asks. The day before they came home, one of the unsubs got the jump on Derek, tackling him to the ground. Emily easily subdued him, but Derek landed funny on a wayward pipe. His shoulder has been bothering him ever since. He nods in response.

“I’ll be fine.” Emily scoffs at him, but says nothing. He will. Eventually.

Spencer holds open the door for Derek. “Here, Morgan. So you don’t aggravate your injury.”

“Hilarious. Ha ha. When’s the stand-up tour? Have you been moonlighting at comedy clubs, pretty boy?”

Spencer sticks his tongue out at him. He quickly pulls it back in his mouth when he catches Hotch looking at him. To their surprise, Hotch cracks a small smile. “Reid has a point, Morgan.” Emily lets out a laugh that is more a cackle than anything.

“Evil. You’re all evil.” He walks through the held open door anyway.

Most of the desk lamps are off, the bullpen empty this late. But his chair is spinning slightly and his light is on. A mop of blonde hair, today a mess of curls with a large sparkly flower pinned at the top, bounces as the chair spins.

“Baby girl, what are you doing here?” Penelope spins to face him, a brilliant smile flashing onto her face immediately. “It’s late. You could have gone home hours ago.”

“Where’s JJ and Rossi?”

“Already in their cars on the way home. We all needed something from up here first.” She’s standing now, and he steps in front of her. “Don’t avoid my question, Mama,” he says, lightly tapping the tip of her nose.

Her smile falters, worry breaking through. “You got hurt.” Her eyebrows crease as she looks him over.

Derek raises both eyebrows. “Yea, but I’m okay. A little injury.”

The crease does not go away. “You got hurt. I don’t like when you get hurt.” He uses his non injured arm to pull her in for a hug. She wraps him in her arms immediately, her face pressing against his chest. The usual private shiver dances down his spine at the feeling. He rubs a small circle on the middle on her back as the tension bleeds out of her.

“See, baby girl? I’m fine.” Penelope picks up her head and looks at him. “Heart’s still beating. Blood’s still pumping. It’s just a little booboo.” She laughs at his word choice. “I’m okay. Promise.”

“You’re gonna rest at home? Ice it, or heating pad it up, or whatever you need?” He nods. “And you’ll call me if you need my help?”

“I promise.” She pops on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “You’re cute when you’re worried.”

Penelope tilts her head back and laughs. “I’m always cute, Derek Morgan. Don’t you forget it.” She never looks more beautiful than when she laughs.

“I won’t,” he says, moving his arm to her waist and walking them both to his desk. Spencer is closing his bag at his desk while Emily leans back in his chair, eyes closed.

“Okay, I’m ready,” says Spencer, nudging the chair with his foot. Emily blinks her eyes open, sitting up. “And I can drive, Emily, you’re more tired than I am.” She opens her mouth to argue, but a yawn comes out instead. She hands Spencer the keys without a word.

“Why are you here, Garcia?” Emily asks.

“Had to see my sweet love in person as soon as you got home.” Derek’s heart flips in his chest. “I worry,” she says simply. Emily nods, giving Derek a long look.

Hotch appears at the top of the stairs next to his office. “I’m leaving.” The unsaid addition of that means you are too rings out from the eyebrow heavy look he gives them all.

Derek grabs the file he needs and a novel his sister sent him from his desk drawer quickly. “Come on baby girl, I’ll walk you out.”

“My very own Prince Charming,” she says as she loops her arm through his.

Spencer starts telling Emily about a Russian film festival coming up in a few weeks as they lead the way to the door. Hotch is close behind, silent but listening. Penelope pulls on Derek a little and they follow.

She puts her head on his shoulder. On reflex, he kisses the top of her head. Not for the first time, he thinks about how easy it is for her to slot into place in his life. She just fits, no matter where he is or what he’s doing. There she is, a voice on the phone or the person spinning in his desk chair in the middle of the night solely because she needs to see him in person.

He falters as they walk through the glass doors. Penelope only makes it a few steps before she’s looking back at where he’s frozen, mind whirring. Emily is pressing the button to the elevator ahead of them. “Der?” Penelope asks.

“Why are you here?”

She tilts her head. “I told you. I worry.”

“You could have called Penelope. You did call, we talked on the plane.”

Now she blushes. She never blushes. “I had– I had to see for myself. I didn’t want to wait until Monday.”

A realization washes over Derek. “You had to see,” he repeats, a smile growing on his face.

She sways a little on her feet. “Yes, I said that.” The trio at the elevator notices them lingering by the doors, but Hotch stops Spencer from calling out with a knuckle brush to the forearm.

Derek steps closer to Penelope. “You had to see me. With your own eyes.”

Penelope rolls her eyes. “Yes, silly goose, that’s the usual way of seeing.” Derek takes another step, now only an arm’s length away.

“It’s midnight on a Saturday. And you waited for me here, alone.”

She nods.

“Even though we talked today and you know that I’m okay, that I’ve had worse injuries.”

She nods again.

“Penelope,” he says, voice barely a whisper. He steps impossibly closer. “Why are you here?”

A look of fear settles on Penelope’s face. “Derek–”

“No, it’s alright!” He grabs her hand. “I just need you to say it.”

She softens, something like hope lighting up her eyes. “If you need me to say it, then you already know.”

He releases a loud laugh– the kind of joyous sound that comes unbidden from the bottom of the stomach. Leaning forward, he rests their foreheads together, watching her reaction. When she smiles, he knows for sure. “Yea I do,” he says.

She leans in across the tiny distance between them and presses their lips together. Derek forgets about the lingering ache in his shoulder in favor of this new feeling. He swings an arm around her waist and straightens up, pulling her flush against him. She wraps her arms around his neck, a soft sound humming against his lips. He’s about to slip his tongue into her mouth and carry her off to an empty office when someone clears their throat from across the room.

Penelope pulls back first, automatically hiding her face in Derek’s neck. Emily is hiding a smile behind her hand. Hotch’s eyebrows are raised slightly, the ghost of a smile around his eyes. Spencer makes no attempt to hide his glee, fingers tapping together happily. Derek grins at them. “Can I help you three?”

“Just thought you’d want to carry on somewhere else. And the elevator is here.” Sure enough, Emily has a foot in the elevator door. She shows him her full grin this time. “Not that we weren’t having fun watching the show.”

He scoffs. “Next time, we’re charging a ticket price.” Penelope giggles.

“Next time?” she whispers.

He nods. “If you want.”

“Yes! Yes. I want. Very much so.” He smiles, a full eye crinkle 1000 watt smile, and interlocks their fingers to lead her to the elevator. She slots in right at his side, putting her head back on his shoulder.

They stay that way the whole way down and keep their hands together as they walk to the parking lot. Emily makes kissy faces as she and Spencer get into her car. Spencer waves happily. Hotch gives them a soft smile before he disappears around a corner.

Derek pulls her in for another kiss right next to Esther. Just because he can. “Follow me home?” he mutters against her lips. “We don’t have to… tonight. Next time. But I’ll make breakfast.”

She traces a spiral on his upper arm. “Okay. It’s a date.” He kisses the tip of her nose just to hear her giggle.

She gives him one more kiss before gently shoving him in the direction of his car. “The faster you get to your car, the faster we get home.” He blows her a kiss before jogging to where he parked two weeks ago. She catches it and puts it right over her heart.

The streets are almost empty as they drive, and Derek keeps pulling up next to her at stoplights to ask if she comes here often or if she wants to race. By the time they arrive at Derek’s apartment building, it’s almost one a.m. and they are both dead on their feet. Still, they stop to kiss in front of his elevator. They kiss again just inside of his front door and again when he hands her an old shirt to wear to bed. He has the urge to pinch his arm, just to double check that he’s not still asleep on the plane. But no, there she is, brushing her teeth in his bathroom with a spare toothbrush. He's never felt this kind of peace with someone else in his space. She has toothpaste on the corner of her mouth and her eyes are bloodshot from exhaustion. I love you, he thinks.

“What?” she asks. “You’re staring.”

Derek hums, wrapping an arm around her waist. "Do you blame me?" He grabs a tissue and blots away the toothpaste. It's a slight deflection, but it's not the moment for what he's really thinking. She scrunches her nose and smiles.

"No. You have good taste."

"Damn right I do, baby girl. The best taste."

They don’t kiss much when they lay in Derek’s bed, too tired to do much more than cuddle up together and turn off the lights. But Derek doesn’t mind. He’s already thinking about breakfast.

#morcia #derek morgan #penelope garcia #cm #cj.txt #denelope #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #cjs fic #emily prentiss #spencer reid #aaron hotchner

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arrowflier · 3 years ago

Note

Fic prompt: Backstory on the Gallagher family photos on the mantle.

Thanks to @grumpymickmilk and @whaticameherefor for finding me scenes that showed them. I'm not sure that the one is of Fiona but I'm going with it. Also I'm sorry these paragraphs are so long 😅.

It felt weird, to be leaving the house after so long.

Ian hadn’t always been happy there, but it was still home. It had been home when he was a closeted gay kid sleeping with his boss for want of options and attention, when he was struggled with relationship and self-worth and needed to feel like he belonged. It was the home he came back to after the army, the home that took him back in when he lost himself. When he lost Mickey, Caleb, Trevor. Mickey again.

It was the home where he watched his siblings grow up, go on their own journeys, and come back themselves with new family in tow. They had all left, at one point or another, but this house had always been where they returned.

Until now.

Walking through the house one last time, Ian trailed his hands along everything he could touch, memorizing the feel of it under his fingers. His whole life, it had all been here like this, at his fingertips if he just reached out.

The worn sofa, with its handmade blanket. The scratched and burned table, where they ate meals together in front of the television and stubbed out shared cigarettes after dessert. The broken fireplace, where Liam used to huddle when they didn’t watch him close enough.

Ian paused as he reached the mantelpiece. Their pictures were still there, right where they had left them—the real estate agent said it was good for buyers to see that the house held happy memories. Like they didn’t all know that the house wouldn’t survive the sale intact.

Ian let himself linger there, over the still images of their past.

First and largest was Lip, of course. Their best hope at redemption, their golden goose. So proud the day he graduated the 6th grade, so eager to pose with his fake diploma as Monica gushed over his accomplishments. Lip, the smart one, the one that was going places, all geared up in academic regalia that he would never see the like of again. Those young eyes were so full of intelligence, so full of hope.

It would be dashed soon enough when Monica left, and with everything that came after. Lip would no longer find happiness in that type of accomplishment, not once it became all he had. But Ian thought that if the little boy in the picture could see Lip now, with Tami and Fred and maybe another baby on the way, he wouldn’t think things had turned out so bad.

Then came Liam. Little baby Liam in a small square frame, wearing an old sweater that had found it’s way onto the backs of three Gallagher boys before him. Monica had already been gone, when that one was taken. She hadn’t been there to fawn over him the way she had over Lip years before. No, Fiona had done that—had gotten him dressed up, borrowed a camera from a girl at work, and snapped enough pictures of his chubby face to cover the entire wall. They could only afford to get one printed.

Liam didn’t look like that little boy anymore. He didn’t smile as much, or as widely. His eyes were more serious now, more searching. But he had grown up well for all his struggles, Ian thought. Grown up strong and smart and sensitive, in a way none of the rest of them had quite managed to balance. You’d never know that he had grown up without his parents, overdosed on drugs as a child, spent so much time following Frank around to scams and homeless shelters and who knows where else. Not from that picture on the mantle, and not if you saw his face today.

Debbie was next. Debbie with her favorite pigtails, red hair unkempt but bright and beautiful. She hadn’t thought she was beautiful, back then, Ian knew. She had taken one look at that school picture and turned her face away, and it took Fiona brushing her hair back and pressing a kiss to her head to convince her that it was worth saving. Fiona had found the biggest frame she could and put Debbie’s face front and center on the mantel, just to show how much she loved it.

Ian wasn’t sure that Debbie had ever really recovered from the feelings it first evoked, though, no matter how much they all supported her. She had gone on to mimic all the girls that used to make fun of her, taking more pride in her appearance than her character for quite some time. It was better now, now that she had Franny, but Ian still caught her looking in the mirror a little too long sometimes, like she wanted to change what she saw. Ian was afraid of the way she forced Franny into dresses and fancy things, afraid that she didn’t even realize what she was doing. He loved Debbie, but he hoped Franny grew up more like the little girl in pigtails and less like the hot convict version of his sister that attached herself to anyone who complimented her.

Carl’s was the only picture that was a little bit different. His school photos always came back unusable, and getting him dressed up was an exercise in futility even now. But Frank—fucking Frank, of all people—had managed to get a decent shot one summer as Carl beamed at him from the bottom of the patio steps, lips blue from a popsicle that Lip had stolen for him from the corner store.

Carl always had been his own person, Ian reflected. He had changed a lot over the years, going from pyromaniac trouble-maker to drug pusher to cop, but that had always stayed the same. Whatever Carl did, from eating a popsicle with his whole face to caring for dying dogs in their basement, from shooting illegal guns in their backyard to being one of the least violent cops on the beat, he did it his own way. Ian had always admired that about his little brother.

Fiona’s picture was by far the oldest. From a time Ian didn’t really remember, when she still smiled. He had asked her once whether Monica or Frank had taken it, but she had gotten quiet. Lip was the one who told him, later, that neither of them had been around that day. That Lip had found Monica’s camera and started clicking the shutter, and happened to get a few good ones.

Wherever Fiona was now, Ian hoped she was smiling again. She deserved to, after everything. Everything she had done for them, everything she had put aside for herself to do it. Maybe there was someone else taking her picture now, someone that made her happy, someone that made it possible for her to think of good memories and not bad. He’d see her again someday, he was certain, and she should look as young and carefree as she always should have been.

Ian himself was last. The last picture, tilted toward the others like he was watching them, just a boy in Lip’s old hand-me-downs looking out past the camera toward his family. That day, he remembered. Monica had wanted a picture so badly, but Frank barely let them out of his sight. Looking back, Ian figured there was more to it than he thought back then, when he idolized his mother and already felt little toward his father.

Well, not his father, not really. Biological or chosen. Seeing himself now, Ian wondered how he hadn’t realized sooner that he was the odd one out among them, with his height and his freckles and his hair. He was quieter than the rest, then, easier, more accepting.

That hadn’t lasted very long.

“Hey, you ready?” a voice came from the open front door, and Ian looked over to see Mickey standing there. The sun at his back cast him in hazy yellow light, like a dream sent to shake Ian from his memories.

Ian looked back to the pictures, so carefully chosen and arranged. An image of what their lives had been. Then he looked at Mickey, and his dark hair, and his soft smile. The smile that was reflected in the picture they had over the fireplace back home, the one of them standing together at their wedding. A wedding that the younger Ian in that staged photo would never have imagined for himself, with a boy he barely knew existed yet, in a world where he could be loud and happy and loved by more than his siblings.

He smiled, and took a step toward the door.

“I’m ready, Mick,” Ian said. And he left it all behind.

#daily speedwrite #fanfic #gallagher family #ian gallagher #gen #shameless

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mingy0u · 4 years ago

Text

SVT as stereotypical Asian frat boys

TW// drinking, party culture, drug use, vaping

For legal purposes this is a joke and parody of socal abb culture and yes, I am Asian American and no, I don't participate in this lifestyle, well anymore kind of. Anyway I see a LOT of aus where kpop idols are portrayed as frat boys and it got my brain churning in and I came up with this gross headcanon. Generalization of asian fraternities in Southern California. ✨✨✨Hehe first shit post

#CherryLine

Grand Seungcheol is the senior president and the guy who supplies the alc, you venmo him at every party. Relatively well known, he's pretty chill and calls himself a grandpa because he doesn't rave anymore but will show up to parties and the club. Used to be the tank and will prove to anyone that he still has it, will literally go till the last man standing to prove a point. He loves to spoil his line and goes all out when it comes to gifts. His little is Woozi, who is also a DJ usually mixes house party jams and early 2000s rnb together, wouldn't be caught dead at a rave but went to LEDUSA bc Cheol talked him into it, rolled for the experience but wouldn't do it again bc he values his brain cells. Lowkey always has a lychee puff bar on him tho. He was able to get away with not picking up a little during his second year bc the pledge class was smaller, but ended up picking up Vernon bc they both vibe and like hip-hop. Vernon is chill, lowkey a soundcloud rapper and listens to Keshi and Khai Dreams. He's a resident sadboi, and stoner and will smoke you tf out if you have a sesh with him. Doesn't drink to get drunk, goes to parties for the vibes and will drink yogurt soju. He will take a shot with you if you ask and yes, he's out on the terrace most of the night.

#AngelLine

Great Grand Jeonghan is the Senior VP and handles recruitment and absolutely loves the incoming pledge classes that he's almost everyone's pseudo and lowkey the rave dad. Hes the enabler and will make you take a swig if you make eye contact. He drives a white Lexus and is always down to give rides. His little is Hoshi, super chaotic dude, on a dance team and 2 project teams, and will also take 20 units...does he sleep? Idk. He will yike on anyone who will let him. He's known for getting asian glow and always has pepcid on him. Hoshi picked up Dokyeom, during his second year and tbh his ride or die, they have matching jerseys. He didn't intend on joining a frat but ended up going to all the rush events bc he didn't want to feel bad. He's the life of the party and resident hypeman, super loud and will make a fool out of himself to make sure everyone has a good time. Dk picks up Seungkwan as his little, Seungkwan only rushed bc he was bored and ended up getting a bid. He's the DD and takes care of everyone drunk, and makes sure the airbnb isn't trashed. He's the finance chair and will literally @ you in the groupme if you didn't pay dues. He makes the best totems tbh, will organize coordinating themed outfits for raves. Hoshi is super tempted to pick up again and picks up Dino as his second little and DK's twin. He spoils the hell out of him since he found out he's a dancer too and got him an engraved hydro and yeezys. Dino is honestly down for anything and Jeonghan’s rave baby. He firmly doesn't believe in chase, and will challenge Cheol to a drink off. He's really enthusiastic, is the favorite. Sweet talker and has a ton of abg upperclassmen wanting to be his "mom."

#SundayMorningLine

Great Grand Joshua is really focused on professional development and the philanthropy chair. He's all over campus bc he's super involved, but shows up to all the meetings. He's the guy who does all the talking at the booth. Rarely gets fucked up but when he does he blacks out and will text the groupme if they wanna get soondubu or pho for the morning after. He lost a bet and had to pick up two littles, Wonwoo and Jun, at the same time which hurt his bank account but doesn't regret it. Wonwoo is more reserved and the gamer, spends all his time playing league and has a pc he built himself with the rainbow setup. Wonwoo is lowkey a tank and can chug a bottle of soju in under 30 seconds, also has the longest record for winebag. Jun is the bro who everyone babies and calls wholesome, he send the groupme random memes and always in the booked studyroom hoping to see someone come by. He works at as a bobarista and hooks it up for anyone he knows, also really good at mixing drinks and makes the jungle juice. Marks you with a sharpie to count how many shots you took so far, will judge anyone who volunteerily drinks Svedka. Wonwoo picks up Mingyu as his little and they become gym bros, and go costco shopping together on Sundays. Mingyu runs a side hustle as a photographer and does grad shoots and the formal pictures, he's also the media chair. He prefers beer over liquor, can shotgun in less than 8 seconds. He will comfort any bro who's an emotional drunk and will listen to them talk about how an abg broke their heart, and then help them find a place to yack. Jun picks up Minghao as his little, and they're bffs. He's the hypebeast and collects sneakers, yes he uses bots for drops. Will give first pick to his bros before reselling. Lowkey a baller, and uses a hoverboard to get around campus. Brings Grey goose or henny to the party and won't drink anything cheap.

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why-this-kolaveri-machi · 3 years ago

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we are our family, even if we don’t want to be.

Titans 3.07

a bit over halfway through the season, and we still don’t have all of our main characters on the board! i love this show.

as always, typing this up as i watch. live reaction, baby! *shadowboxes*

SPOILERS AHEAD

1. i don’t think i’ve mentioned this before, but i kinda miss the old ‘dc universe’ intro. it was cool! the whole idea of it was wild and waaaaay over-ambitious, but also very very on-brand because of it.

2. this is... the third time we’ve seen dick sleeping this season? that’s a record! checking another thing off my s3 wishlist...

2.5. i guess i rag on titans all the time for its wafer-thin plotting and bad pacing, but i have to admit that this season has been a step-up from the last one in this regard. titans has very reactive rather than proactive protagonists, and a lot of the last season seemed to be: x happened, the team reacted badly, then y happened, they reacted badly, etc. this time around, it’s not a huge leap up by any means, but at least they’re doing something about it.

i do appreciate the focus on character arcs over everything else. and when i say everything else, i mean it: arcs that started two seasons ago with no big cathartic moments, intermittent payoff and multiple relapses. big bads have ranged from interdimensional demons to superpowered assassins to whatever in the world scarecrow is, but trigon’s big weapon against the titans was to... use their worst fears against them. slade’s was to... use their fears to break them up. crane’s is to... use red hood to use their fears to break them up. even the threat of gotham’s citizens being in danger doesn’t feel real: gotham is mythologised into an entity of its own, infecting our heroes like a parasite. like. this is not to say that most other superhero media aren’t big character arcs intertwined with the main plot, but titans doesn’t even make pretend that it’s anything but.

anyway. that’s my entry #2345 to ‘give a grand unifying theory for titans’. thanks. i’ll be back with more.

3. “anger is just fear in a little black dress.” god I HATE HIM

(what’s he doing with barbara’s likeness? oh... oh god. a terrible thought just occurred to me. what if they introduce hush at the very last minute for plastic surgery shenanigans? would you put it past this show?)

3.5. jason, nooooooooo

3.75. i mean, they’re making it very clear here that scarecrow is the one in control--the one who’s always been in control--and is manipulating jason and literally poisoning him, but i hope it doesn’t end up erasing nuance or jason’s autonomy. if jason’s to reckon with the issues that brought him here, then the lines of responsibility will need to be set somewhere.

(this applies to dick as well but more on that later, i guess.)

4. just--the phrase “40% loss of income” is so funny to me. like, gotham is full of these larger-than-life characters who are idiosyncratic beyond belief, colourful and dramatic and creating chaos just for the sake of chaos, and then there’s the regular criminals and their henchmen who just want to make a quick buck sitting down with pie charts and graphs, griping about the joker reducing their returns or debating high risk investments in, i don’t know, two-face’s next scheme.

“yyyyeeeeeaaah, my financial advisor is telling me that going all-in with a guy who literally makes decisions on the flip of a coin is probably not the greatest idea.”

4.5. god i hate smug!smarmy!scarecrow so much

4.85. as big plans to “control” gotham go, it’s pretty bog-standard. clearly scarecrow has some bigger plan in mind but it really feels like we’ve got no clear insight into him and he’s this generic creepy mystery-man who knows more than he lets on and springs a twist/cliffhanger every now and then. i liked the scenes with him and dick in 3.04 where it seemed like he was genuinely on the backfoot and things weren’t going as he predicted. for all of his faults, dick is at least familiar with scarecrow’s bullshit and knows not to give what he wants.

5. i mean... i see where dick is coming from with the “he’s not jason anymore; he’s red hood” because his immediate glaring concern is scarecrow’s drug and the damage it could potentially cause gotham? i do not doubt that it’s something batman drilled into him, too, but when you’re expected to take point on a situation where the lives of an entire city weigh down on your shoulders, it’s better to simplify things and prioritise. i’m not saying it’s great or healthy! gar is absolutely right to consider this facet of the situation. it’s just dick can’t.

6. hmmmmmmm. HMMMMMMMMMMM.

i don’t know that i’m super fond of this iteration of oracle???? it looks like a cross between cerebro from x-men and jarvis from iron man. it’s giving me second-hand embarrassment. somebody help me.

(at least they remembered dick’s middle name is actually “john”. i like to think bruce printed D in that contract because for a while he genuinely thought richard “dick” grayson was his full name. duck duck goose, dick dick grayson, i don’t know alfred, the kid was in a circus, maybe they thought it was funny. or maybe it was a test in anger control, who knows.)

6.5 “maybe you two would like some time alone?” even AI can’t help hitting on dick grayson in this universe.

“oh mr grayson, if i only had another eye to see you better...”

6.8. on one hand, it’s a bit disconcerting that the title of ‘oracle’ has gone from barbara herself to this gigantic machine; from my impression of the comics-verse, barbara had an extensive computing and surveillance system, true, but she was very clearly the brains behind the operation. on the other hand, i’m kind of glad that the ethical boundaries that this kind of surveillance violates is a sticking point for barbara. (tho let’s be real, the nsa would kill to have this in their arsenal).

6.9. also it’s now obvious that scarecrow’s big plan is to take control of oracle itself. it’s why he had lady vic take that picture of her eyes, or why he’s meddling around with it on his computer.

6.95. if only i could ‘command sleep’ anybody overstepping their boundaries re: personal information...

7. “you can just sit back and watch as the titans destroy themselves.” i mean... he’s not wrong

8. “dick’s parents were killed by a criminal mob; he won’t work with them.” it’s wonderful that you have this insight into dick, kory, i just wish we could’ve watched some of these conversations actually happen on-screen.

8.5. i’m glad that kom’s being treated with such nuance and understanding, though it’s obvious that she definitely has a Plan of her own. (and did i entirely imagine her ability to mimic other people flawlessly at the end of s2? or is that going to come into play at some point?) i think her story has the potential to be genuinely poignant, and in a universe where being Different, either because of mental health or physical differences or whatever else, leads a straight line to Evil, it’s important to acknowledge and then emphasise that the mere fact of your existence as a Different Person doesn’t predispose you to evil. maybe your act of destroying a system that has destroyed you and not scrambling to “fit in” is only evil as defined by that system.

8.8. “you’re trespassing, i should call the authorities, i feel unsafe.” now this is a villain lady who’s definitely aware of her privilege.

8.85. kom smirking knowingly at her sister is everything.

“oooh that’s the kory i remember”

9. conner and dick working together woo!

9.25. god i hate a villain who’s always just a step ahead, no matter what. so crane anticipated dick using oracle to track his personal communications and set him up? how did he know when exactly dick would get to do this? how long did he have that poor man tied up in that van?

(the “save me, grayson” is a nice touch, tho. send dick spiralling even further! because if there’s one thing dick will do, it’s take responsibility for every goddamn thing that goes wrong.)

9.5. ahem. i’m going to need a million gifs of conner yeeting dick across that yard, fandom, thankyouverymuch.

(i understand conner is invulnerable to explosions, but how do his clothes survive??)

9.8. oooh crane is already in oracle! i’m just sitting here laughing helplessly because they’re overpowering this goddamned guy so much. he can build a lab in arkham’s basement! he has access to lazarus puddles! he has minions working across gotham, including a fully functional chemical laboratory staffed by chemists who only answer to him! he has the crime families of gotham quailing in his very presence! he has assassins at his beck and call! he’s enough of a manipulative bastard to have red hood under his thumb! and now he has enough of a tech know-how to not only be aware of oracle, but know how to hack into it! i’m sick of exclamation marks! i’ll shut up now!

9.95. dick leaving behind that smouldering grave for a person he failed to save without taking a second to process how he feels about it and running towards his next plan to corner scarecrow: a microcosm of where his head’s at right now.

10. really hammering in the themes of this season, aren’t we.

10.25. the interesting thing is the titans repeatedly call themselves a family this season (none more so than dick) and while that found family has helped encapsulate and put away their traumatic experiences with their ‘original’ families, it’s meant that they’ve not really dealt with those issues. and dick and gar and jason come from ‘found families’ of their own: they are twice removed, traumatised two times over. they still cling to this identity however, and because of it they’re losing each other. a family isn’t static. it’s an ever-evolving dynamic and you have to put in work constantly to keep it healthy.

10.5. anyway, that’s entry #2346. i’m here aaaalll night.

11. lookit gar the detective! half-transforming and using his powers to deduce things! what a hero! i’ve said this for a long time, but gar is the bedrock of this team, and an unsung one at that.

11.25. i’m confused about him calling this room jason’s though. it seems to me that this is dick’s room that jason later used, and one that dick’s using now. so the unmade bed isn’t really jason’s fault; dick was woken by barbara that morning, and in his hurry, he left without making his bed.

(it still confounds me that bruce didn’t find jason another bedroom in that gigantic mansion of his. you really didn’t give this kid a chance, did you?)

12. oh well. so much for the oracle.

13. ... sorry, wait. you didn’t think i wasn’t going to address the bit with dick right now, did you?

12.5. i honestly don’t think it’s very complicated: dick’s been reeling from one traumatic thing to the next, and just when it seemed like at the beginning of the season, he felt happy and secure with his team and his place in the world, bruce ups and leaves gotham to him, specifically naming him a successor and calling him a ‘better batman’. he’s lost garth and jericho and donna and jason and now hank and dawn. he’s not even sure where rachel is or what she’s doing. after being told that batman was a psychopath for moulding him into a weapon, he’s also been told that his failure to be a ‘better batman’ lead to further disaster. of course he’s going to get batman-goggles. of course he’s going to be a prick.

12.8. i don’t know what to say. i feel his frustration acutely. i don’t think he should’ve said what he said to barbara (can people stop pushing her around this season????) but that pressure to step in where your parent fails? to clean up their messes and try to think like them? to fall into habits drilled into you when you developed them as coping mechanisms growing up? I FEEL THAT.

every step he’s taking he’s putting 110% of himself in it and scarecrow’s still playing mindgames with all of them: i absolutely feel his desperation to take control of that game and turn it on scarecrow, no matter what it takes.

and he did apologise almost immediately, and finally--finally--actually works with barbara.

12.9. again, not excusing him! but i get it. and i think that’s a sign of great character writing.

“did you know i just reminded emmram of all of her daddy issues? what the fuck????”

12.95. i love that dick&barbara, kory&kom, and gar are all approaching solving this mystery from different angles, each as valid as the other. also, conner is there as... emergency bomb defuser man?

13. it’s like all fancy rich people in fancy rich houses do is pour fancy rich alcohol into fancy rich glasses on pristine, untouched tabletops. i wonder what it’s like to live like that.

13.25. I KNEW IT! poor michael. it was nice knowing you.

13.5. man, kory is contending with a lot of issues that she’s successfully bottled up and compartmentalised until now. the cold reality that a child can seek out their parents as refuge and they can view the child as a piece to be moved in a greater game (never out of cruelty, though, never, and somehow that makes it worse), that truth of blackfire’s treatment on tamaran because she’s different, and her own culpability in what happened. she exchanged one family for another, after all, and left that family to die and her sister to suffer. like dick, like gar, kory’s being forced to reckon with what the titans are meant to be, the larger implications of creating their found family in their own space.

14. it’s probably because it’s one in the morning and i’ve had two glasses of wine but i did not follow that bit of exposition at all and victor freeze??? what?

anyway. look at them solving things! together! go team!

“you made a deal with the mob?” oh the sense of betrayal on his face! fuck off, dick, your issues aren’t kory’s.

15. conner is really sweet and a bit of an awestruck crush on kom is to be expected. especially after that power rangers-esque transformation (i say this as a former huge power rangers fangirl. i’ve seen every series until 2007 including the original japanese versions and written fanfic for all of them. so i love a cool costume transformation, is what i’m saying.)

also?

FUCK YEAH

16. i love the gotham crime families just chillin’ around eating ice cream. I LOVE THEM

16.5. that was a fun fight sequence, if marred slightly by that bit of awkward flirting between conner and kom. i wonder if she’s really planning to use him in a larger scheme to get kory back to tamaran, or maybe something else.

16.75. so i’m assuming that scarecrow has jason either so paralysed by fear that he can barely move, or jason’s withdrawing from the drug that he’s been sucking in every few minutes.

17. it’s nice to see them chill after a successful mission! and it can be awkward, but conner’s crush on kom and him striving to impress her is also, well, uh... cute.

17.5. i guess the dick/barbara scene was inevitable, especially given the... unresolved nature of their relationship in the flashbacks? and they’ve been through a rollercoaster together this episode, discovering and then destroying an incredible tool within a matter of hours, re-discovering just how well they work together as a team. dick’s swimming in the nostalgia. i don’t expect it to last as a long-term relationship, but i totally get why this is happening now. and hey, they’re cute!

i have a weeeirrrrd feeling that kory is going to leave to tamaran at the end of the season and that dick and kory will rekindle--or rather realise--their relationship just before that. it’s going to be devastating and beautiful and painful and i will be writing essays about it which would be me just wailing into the screen.

18. gar found molly!!!!!!! MOLLY’S BACK! \o/ gar is the BEST

19. that was a fun episode! i love this silly show, even if it does destroy me sometimes <3

#titans #titans spoilers #meta #dick grayson #barbara gordon #koriand'r #komand'r #garfield logan #jonathan crane #conner kent #a byronic cupcake #badass strawberry truffle #manic pixie pop tart

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pollyna · 1 year ago

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So, hear me out. Bradley knows about the Iceman but doesn't know him.

He's the friend Uncle Mav takes for important dinners once in a blue moon, and Bradley feels awkward around him because the man is tall, even if not the tallest man in his young life, and even if his mom tells him to go say hi, he hides behind Mav's leg and spends most of the night looking out at this man like he is some sort of mythical creature who not only knew his dad, Nick, but flew with him too. There's a picture in moma's bedroom of the five of them: moma, dad, uncle Mav, uncle Slider, and the Iceman.

Iceman is the man that Bradley hates a little bit because when he ships out, Uncle Slider wakes up at actual dawn, and Bradley can never get back to sleep because then his mom gets up too, and Uncle Mav really really tries to walk around on his tips when he comes through the door with him, but Bradley is awake. And it's too soon for him. So he has the right to hate him a little bit because of that.

In the years to come, the Iceman is going to be a voice over the phone, a sporadic presence over their table, and the person who will make Uncle Slider, who he calls Papa these days, cry like a baby the day he and his mom got married. And he's going to be the person with whom Uncle Mav sometimes disappears for weeks at a time, sometimes even months, coming back generally more tanned and happy than Bradley can remember him even being. He is the man who sends letters and postcards that his mom pins on the fridge and the man who makes his Papa leave the house at 2 am because his plane had been shot down and nobody knows shit about what happened. He's the man who forces him to wear his suit because of the medals and all that, and he has to go, especially if they are in the afternoon. (It's that Iceman forces him in the suits, nope, that's all his mom's work).

So yeah, he knows of the man, but he knows very little of him, and maybe he spent about twenty hours in his presence and company in his sixteen years of life. Then, during a party, some of his classmates ask if his uncle Mav is single because her aunt is interested in him, and Bradley doesn't know how to answer. When he asks his mom that same afternoon about Mav's love life, she shrugs and says, "He has someone, baby goose, had for a long time," and that's all he gets out of her, besides a single long look at the photo of Mav and the Iceman.

Something happens in the two years he and uncle Mav don't talk because something stupid Bradley said and something equally stupid Mav answered, and Mav writes to him a lot—letters, mail, and even a wedding invitation he sees five months later because he was away for his training and didn't switch postal codes. He doesn't open it because he's still angry with him, and his mom is so fucking disappointed with Bradley because "he got married and you weren't there". This thing hunts him for a long while, until he doesn't see Mav by chance when he gets assigned to Top Gun for the first time. He's wearing his wedding band, and he smiles sadly at him before saluting a superior and disappearing in the crowds, talking away with the base commander.

(It takes another half a year before they reconcile, but Mav doesn't talk about his spouse, and Bradley doesn't ask. He hears, thanks to the gossip vines, that the Iceman is getting his second star, and his mom talks, with Papa about his white hair and how distinguished he looked, during a barbecue the week before. Papa laughs and says, "Yeah, I'm sure he thinks exactly the same.")

But then he gets to know the Iceman, and not only of him after the mission, after he and Mav almost died, the man himself, with four stars on his shoulders and enough commandments on his chest to make the jacket look really heavy to wear, came to salute them on the bridge, shaking hands with every pilto and exchanging a couple of words with Mav himself. They are back on the land, Mav is sleeping in the back of the Bronco when they arrive home, and Carole and Ron are already at the front door waiting for him, talking with a guy sitting on the patio swing.

"Hey Mav, we are here," he says, gently shocking the man.

It almost happens all too fast, considering Uncle Mav is injured, and he's limping because his ankle is in a cast. He wakes up and looks around like he doesn't know where he is, but then his eyes focus on the figure who's looking back at him and who's getting up and walking towards them. And oh god, the Iceman is there, the fucking Admiral is in his backyard, and he's walking towards his car, but his eyes are on the person behind him, who's trying to get out of the car without killing himself.

"Kazansky, fancy finding you here," Mav starts, straddling himself against the Bronco.

"I was in the neighbourhood, so I thought to come by and say hi," he says, all serious but with a smile trying to creep on his features.

"Always a pleasure to see you, Admiral," Mav answers, already taking a step towards him.

"It is always a pleasure to know you are alive, Captain," he said, closing the distance between them, taking his face between his hands, and kissing him slowly.

"Fuck Pete, Jesus Christ, baby, I'm so happy you're home," he murmurs, and Bradley knows he shouldn't be hearing this because it's private and not for his ears. So he slips out of the car, as silently as he can and walks towards his mama and papa who engulf him in the biggest, warmest hug he has received in a little while.

He doesn't know how long they spend like that, hugging each other and not really talking because Bradley is getting all the comfort he needs by only being there, until Mav pats him on the back and says, "Hey B, I want to introduce you to someone."

And Admiral Kazansky smiles at him, not in the polite way he got accustomed to seeing him smile, but in a warmer, more familiar way: "Hi, I don't think you really remember about me, I'm Tom, Pete's husband."

So, at the end of the day, he knows of the Iceman, because of gossip, and knows a little about him because his mom and papa talk a lot about him, but he can say he personally knows Tom Kazansky, the man who married his uncle Pete and who sits in front of him every time they come over for dinner.

#bradley rooster bradshaw #tom iceman kazansky #he doesn't know the man until he does even if he is know a full adult #carole bradshaw lives #past! slooserole #carole x slider #ice x mav #icemav #slider as papa #idk if i had to tag something else or not???

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phoenix-manga · 4 years ago

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Lilia adopts Briar - Bat Dad AU

NOTE: I clearly mentioned Briar’s origins in her family headcanon. Which I might have posted or not. I am kinda forgetful...

How this will play out will be kin of tricky, but Lilia has technically visited a LOT of places. Let’s say he’s on his way to the Slumbering Willows when he sees a frazzled old lady holding a baby. He tries to go see the problem because he isn’t going to let the old woman be stressed, now would he?

Once the old lady finished explaining the situation he ponders for a moment and decides to take the child and raise her in the Valley of Thorns, he can handle human babies easier than fae babies.

Briar’s last name is non-existent, she is just called Briar.

He never misses the opportunity to dress her up in cute baby clothes, and he probably will continue getting any frilly dress he got his hands on to put them on Briar.

Briar wasn’t a noisy baby, she sniffled when she had to cry and most of the time she is clingy. Lilia has to make sure she is asleep when he leaves the house. But he does relish in the fact that the baby is attached to him to this extent.

Not long after, he adopted Silver too. So, now there are two precious babies under Lilia’s care. The image of Briar clinging to a sleeping Silver is forever etched onto Lilia’s mind.

Silver calls her “Onee-san”.

When both of them start to grow up and Silver takes up swordsmanship while Briar is practicing on honing her magic. While he already has plans on having Silver be introduced to Malleus as he will become his guard in the future, he does want to show off his daughter to him. He hasn’t exactly shown Malleus what his daughter looked like but he babbles on to the prince about how precious she is.

He says screw it and takes Briar along with Silver to the castle of the Draconia royalty. Silver is dressed in a rather plain dark suit while Briar was dressed in a pale pink dress covered in white lace patterned with thorns and white roses. Needless to say, everyone is focused on Briar first before realizing that it was Lilia who was holding her hand.

The family of three stood before the prince and his parents, which the latter took notice of the golden-haired child beside Lilia. He didn’t miss a beat as he introduced her to the royal family.

Briar was holding onto Silver as she was kind of nervous because there were a lot of strangers who held high authority. That just made her more adorable. So, whenever Silver has to train to be a guard, Briar sometimes comes along with Lilia which prompted her and Malleus to slowly become friendly acquaintances.

Along the way, they meet little Sebek (I have no idea how his backstory is supposed to be since I don’t play the game). Sebek is very flustered because Briar is very pretty and she and Silver stand out from the other children who live in the Valley of Thorns.

Sebek can now go cry to Briar when Silver falls asleep after witnessing Lilia’s terrifying persona during Halloween. Briar is trying to convince herself that it was just a nightmare.

Briar grows up with somewhat the same gentle and motherly personality but less depressed and neglected. She is more open and social, fussing about those younger than her.

NRC Present Time:

She visits the Diasomnia quartet when she can. Because she is still chosen to go to Diamond Crown Academy. Lilia sends her photos of the boys in their robes and she sends a picture back of her school life.

When she visits, they have no idea that she is acquainted with Malleus and Lilia. When they do, they get the shock of their lifetime.

Briar usually brings snacks (because she knows that Lilia’s cooking is a disaster waiting to happen), the boys are secretly celebrating because they don’t have to make excuses to Lilia why they weren’t hungry.

Silver still calls her “Onee-san” while Sebek calls her Lady Briar but still gets flustered whenever she dotes on him, it doesn’t help when Lilia enables her. Even Malleus finds it endearing, calling her a mother goose fussing over her goslings.

Silver and Sebek are overprotective of Briar during her visits, all those boys trying to get her attention when NONE of them are worthy to even talk to her, or so says Sebek.

Since she is also performing idol concerts in the academy, Lilia would stream it to the dorm to show them how talented his precious daughter is.

Lilia: “Look at her! She’s making me proud!”

Hopefully the happy times never end... unless a certain fairy king tries to find her.

#phnx #dca #diamond crown academy #dca headcanons #headcanon #twst oc #twisted wonderland #malleus draconia #sebek zigvolt #silver #lilia vanrouge #briar auroria

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sleepymccoy · 4 years ago

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Aziraphale’s demon aspect

As voted by 246 people!

The winner is

Owl

with nearly 26% of the primary vote

many people added in their free form answers that they were imagining a barn owl specifically

Owl was the front runner the whole way through this survey, but most of the time by a very beatable margin. The 40 or so people who voted in the last night really tipped it over, it was a tight race! And the results are crazy split imo, a quarter of votes constitutes a win! I love the different opinions and ideas we all have so so much

Ram/sheep came in a hearty second with 16.5% of the vote

A very regal demon there.

After that it gets a little murky, so I’m going to share the second graph I made when is every animal that got more than 1% of the vote. So it’s the top six animals

Magpie and Lion holding strong! Then Moth and Goat looking very good

The second question let you vote for as many options as you thought were appropriate for Aziraphale! So, there were a lot more write-ins! It’s crazy!

I’m using google sheets so I can’t get it to show you every name, but the raw data will be in a read more so you can scroll through everyone’s beautiful imagination there

Again, Owl winds with a solid 20% of the vote. Ram/Sheep coming in with about 15%, followed by Moth, Magpie, Goat, Lion, then Tortoise.

Tortoise was 11th in the first round, tied with Snake (but pale), and managed to surprise me by coming through so strong in the second. Slow and steady, baby.

Nearly everyone who wrote in about Magpies told me that Magpies hoard stuff, so it’s nice to see the hive mind at work there!

Five people told me they were voting goat because of that one piece of art by @hollow-head that shows Aziraphale scaling a bookshelf like goats do cliffs. As an artist myself I found it legitimately moving that this one image had stayed with people so strongly. That’s just beautiful. Here’s an example of just one person’s comment

idk dude i just remember one person posted art of him scaling the bookstore shelves like those goats scale mountains and just eating his clothes while he reads it was so fuckin funny but anyway goat eyes are great or he could have lil stubby horns that r covered by his hair

One moth enthusiast took the time to give me a short essay on their choice of moth. I have included a portion of it, cos it was so great

So if I had to choose an insect, it would be a moth, preferably a Megalopygidae, also known as the Flannel Moth. They are fluffy, white-beige and look innocent and fluffy, but their larvae can cause painful inflammations. A poodle moth would also fit because it's almost pure white.

Here’s a flannel moth for everyone

and a poodle moth, which i honestly thought was a hoax but i looked into it just now and it seems legit? There’s not a tonne of proof, but the og pictures are from a scientists who stands by them, so like, wow

And then a DIFFERENT PERSON put this in;

the moth i had in mind is Acherontia atropos, in polish called Zmierzchnica trupia główka (meaning more or less "dusk death's head"). i have a whole symbolism planned out and stuff

Fucking, moth fandom come through!!

I’m vaguely scared of moths, fun fact. I don’t like the thick thunking sound they make when they hit stuff.

Here is the second round but with all the animals that got four or less votes removed for ease of viewing

the one segment there at 12 o’clock that google hasn’t labeled for me is Swan at 0.9%

I cannot believe I didn’t put swan in as an option, that’s all write-ins

So, to summarise, I suggest you take a lot of this with a grain of salt. It is not meant as an instruction to fandom or to railroad creativity. I have a narrow corner of the Good Omens fandom that I interact with, and while this quiz was up for a week I’m not sure it reached a great variety of people. About 250 folks filled it out, which was tonnes more than I expected and I love each and every one of you for filling it out!! But I have noticed that Owl was first on my list and in the free form answers the example prompt I gave included, “such as a breed of owl that specifically speaks to you,“ so I think it’s possible I did that unknowing bias thing that practiced survey folk know now to do. So, grain of salt.

I also think that if animals like Swan and Cat were in the list of options they’d’ve gotten more votes because the people who voted for those were coming up with it fresh themselves. I suspect people would’ve voted for them, but it just didn’t occur to them in the moment. In much the same way it didn’t occur to me in the moment I was writing this survey.

So people know, I got the ten or so animals that I put in the survey from searching the demon!aziraphale tag on tumblr, so it was all stuff that other people had come up with. I was trying to avoid my own bias, but i think in hindsight i could’ve done better!

Having said all that, this was all so much fun and the results are clear!!! Love a good owl!aziraphale

Imma continue to draw my boy as a ram, though. Cos this was all just for a laugh <3

numbers and a few more things under the cut

So some of these have half a vote ascribed to them. That’s for people who in their freeform answer said things like this;

ngl, that one post about him being a swan still makes me laugh

Mourning Dove. Though that Scallop answer was fucking brilliant

And I kinda made a judgement call that that wasn’t a vote, but it was kind of a vote. So I gave them half a point.

There were a few situations where people would write in a specific species. If I got more than one vote for the root animal I just grouped them together, but if it stayed the only vote then it kept the species. Cat got the most specific species mentioned, and in the second vote Bat had a few species mentioned (albino bat being my fave), but I ended up grouping them all just under Cat and Bat to give them a better chance of getting on the graph. There were probably a few other examples but I can’t think of them. The one exception to this is the person who wrote-in Duolingo Owl specifically. For that one I figured Owl is already pretty solid, and that’s just fucking funny, man

I was also pretty generous about some stuff. So, this person didn’t vote for Moose but they clearly regretted it so I added a vote for Moose in the second one where you could vote for multiples. They kept their Ram and Goat votes, of course, but I added Moose for them

I get very bastard energy from my demon az headcanons. Like f-ing shit up for a laugh more than anything, but otherwise indifferent. That's kinda why I like the ram/sheep/goat thing so much because it reminds me of indifference and random chaos. Or a moose. Shit, I should have written in moose

So yeah, it’s hardly a double blind study that’d stand up to any real criticism, but it was fun and I think the essence of it is fun!! Scroll through and have a read. Imma pull a few more of my fave write-ins and put them down the bottom cos it’s great. Esp the ones that only got one vote, the reasonings were stellar on some of those

Here is the first vote results, where everyone could only vote for one animal each

Owl 63 Ram/Sheep 40 Magpie 28 Lion 26 Moth 21 Goat 17 Swan 4 Eagle 4 Dove 4 Cat 4 Tortoise 3 Snake 3 Scallop 2 Rat 2 Rabbit 2 Mongoose 2 Badger 2 Shima Enaga 1 Shark 1 Porcupine 1 Orangutan 1 Mouse 1 Long Furby 1 Hippopotomaus 1 Goose 1 Duck 1 Dragon 1 Cow 1 Cereberus 1 Boar 1 Bee 1 Bat 1 Alpaca 1

Second Vote results, where everyone could vote for as many as they wanted

Owl1 82 Ram/Sheep 136 Moth 108.5 Magpie 98 Goat 96 Lion 72 Tortoise 61 Snake 37 Eagle 33 Cat 9.5 Swan 7.5 Lizard 4 Rabbit 4 Badger 3 Mongoose 2 Dove 2 Mouse 2 Squirrel 2 Bear 2 Raccoon 2 Capybara 2 Dragon 2 Bat 1 Long Furby 1 Rat 1 Boar 1 Goose 1 Peacock 1 Pangolin 1 Lindworm 1 Moose 1 Chinchilla 1 Duolingo Owl 1 Cackatoo 1 Crow 1 Cow 1 Alpaca 1 Dodo 1 Shark 1 Big Dog 1 Snow Leopard 1 Scallop 0.5

All voting was optional. To help explain how scallop lost 1.5 votes from first to second, I believe the people who voted for it in the first question just skipped the second cos they’d said their bit.

In terms of how many people engaged with the questions, Q1 had 245 answers and one skip. Q2 had 241 answers and 5 skips, and Q3 where I just let people talk at me if they wanted to had 84 answers and 162 skips.

So please enjoy my selection of free form answers. They all made me smile but putting all 84 in seems excessive to me, so I’ve chosen the ones that are either full blown mini essays or that make me laugh. It’s still a lot, this project brought me so much joy

Shima enaga - It's the hair man

Cow (aka golden calf)

Scallop. He is a snack.

Swan. Elegant but very capable of fscking you up. Mates for life.

basically anything that is both gentle in nature and fiercely loyal, territorial and protective (but prone to anxiety). Also hedonistic esp. with food. For all of these reasons, I think a dog would be the best choice.

Dragon with his hoard of books

it’s about the teeth. just too sharp and too many to be human. (comment from op here, this person voted for shark, just for context)

Turkish Angora cat. Magnificently fluffy, incredibly intelligent, love heights and will jump off crazy high things and land on your head, gloriously dignified until they see a string and run into a wall, love one or maybe two persons to distraction and want everyone else to fuck off, will drape themselves over their person’s shoulders and go to sleep, range from “will jump in the sea to hunt fish and has a murder pit full of seagulls they’ve massacred” to “will fall over at the sight of a baby bird”, very particular about food and will yell at you if you get it wrong. Also the breed that some asshole took three cats from and bred parent to child to make Persians. The cautionary tale has been acknowledged and we love our crazy smart, single braincelled children.

I usually imagine him as an owl because they are nocturnal (and we know that Aziraphale can easily stay awake the whole night reading). Also the image of an owl puffed up is kind of ridiculous and reminds me of him, of how an annoyed Aziraphale would look. However the options above have made me think that a lion would suit him very well, too. A lion or just a very BIG cat. I mean, he makes pleading eyes to get what he wants, likes to be confortable, is a bit of a bastard and often puts himself in awkward situations from which he needs to be rescued. He just... acts very cat-like in my opinion. Also owls and cats are both predators, but are usually imagined (or, at least cats are) as cute little creatures, just like Aziraphale is an Angel of the Lord (a Warrior, actually) but looks all soft and cute and huggable. I dunno. Maybe I just want to pet an Aziracat.

I love all the other people's thoughts about demon!Aziraphale, but what about the honey badger? I try to explain why I have it in mind for demon!azi: its name (I think it's funny, expecially in English because 'honey' can make you imagine it's something sweet (it is for me), while the 'bad' in badger can be an alarm bell (like 'be careful! It is not like it seems!')); its face (ok, who can say its face isn't cute? I think, and hope, nobody can, and like the name, it is a misunderstanding: as always, be careful, it's not like it seems!, I think demons can say something about demon!azi as like "you don't seem like a 'good' demon, you can't be, your face (animal and human) is too f-ing disgusting sweet to be a demon!", I think maybe even angel!crowley, at the beginning, can think something like this ("how in the world somebody so cute like you can be a demon?"), then he discovered how demon!azi can be a very talented demon sometimes, but in Crowley's mind azi is still his little cutie angry furry); its furry's colour (black=demon, white/grey/silver/idkitsname= color of demon!azi's wings, because even if he fell, I can't say no to his white wings 😭); it is a snake's predator (and in my mind angel!crowley is still a snake); its solitary life (demon!aziraphale is alone and he doesn't mind it, unless it's angel!crowley we're talking about, then our cute demon minds it); its behaviour (demon!azi, even if he's cute, can be a really very talented demon: honey badger is fearless and dangerous, it can fight bigger animals if there aren't other chances and it can't escape); its skin is very tough (except for a soft/safe spot, behind its neck if I remember well, that only angel!Crowley knows and sometimes he uses it to calm demon!azi down or make azi do some good deeds); its diet (it has a sweet-thooth, for honey in primis, but it can eat everything it wants... Doesn't it resemble demon!azi?); it's smart (search for Stoffle on your browser if you don't know)... Ok,I think I finish, sorry for the novel 😅

I tend to think of animals that meet three criteria: (1) they exemplify “faults” in his character exaggerated to “sins”—gluttony, greed/hoarding, sloth, (2) they are species that favor fawning or flight as a defense mechanism but can also be bold on occasion, and (3) blend very well or have a keen affinity with human society, specifically thriving in urban (i.e., city) environments. This is mostly because I can’t see “Aziraphale” in a reverse AU that doesn’t preserve some of his core traits as an angel (a little hedonistic, hoarding, anxious, etc.). So I like city-dwelling bastard animals with bonus points for relation to scripture, like a rock dove or a fox or an owl.

Owls aren't smart, and the pedant in me says not an owl. But, thinking on it, demon aspect, owls are perceived as smart, but designed as deadly silent predators, patient and solitary. So actually demon Aziraphale could take on more owlish aspects. I just like cockatoo better, since they are smart, and showy. Or a crow, although that does amusing things with Crowleys name.

god imagining him as a chimera is !!! (comment from op, there was this odd flurry of mythical animals being voted for one night. i think the survey hit a corner of fandom that leans that way. there was also dragon, another chimera, a griffon, and a lindworm all at the same rough time)

Magpies are great because they’re cute and fluff themselves up (go look at Sophie the magpie) and like hoarding their favorite things but also I’ve watched one just straight up kill another bird before because corvids are sneaky little bastards with no lack of a mean streak if they’re crossed

It’s the duolingo owl, I’m so sorry op but it just is. I genuinely don’t mean to clown on your post, but this take was delivered to me in a sleep induced haze and I believe it’s the god given truth. Demon Aziraphale WOULD try to make you learn a dead language and he’d go about it in a vaguely threatening way (comment from op, you’re so fucking right dude. also, shit like this is made for clowning, i’m with you 100%)

When choosing a demon aspect for a Aziraphale, I usually tried to keep in mind the artistic tradition of which animals are linked with demons. The Good Omens team seems to have drawn inspiration from that source because all the animals we do see are either reptilian or insectoid. Those species were often shown inhabiting hellish landscapes in Renaissance and Baroque paintings. However, Aziraphale never struck me as cold or slimy or hard like an exoskeleton. So if I had to choose an insect, it would be a moth, preferably a Megalopygidae, also known as the Flannel Moth. They are fluffy, white-beige and look innocent and fluffy, but their larvae can cause painful inflammations. A poodle moth would also fit because it's almost pure white.

Ok so the only reason I pick magpie is because those bastards are smart as hell but also know how and when to inconvenience the shit out of you, and if you gain their trust then they're absolute darlings but if they decide "nah, dont like ya" then you're basically done and you'll wake up every morning with shit on your car window. I also chose sheep/ram cuz I mean... idk it suits him. I don't remember my other choice but I'm sure I had a good reason.

I feel like a barn owl would suit him well but I'm not really sure why, I also think that a moth would suit him really well because of the whole "moth to a flame" thing and as a demon he would have gotten burned because of that attitude.

I write a reverse AU fic called Lambs to the Slaughter where Aziraphale's demonic aspect is an albino sheep! I imagine him as a mix between a wild Argali ram and the first woolly domestics. I chose an Argali because they're the largest species of wild sheep, but I wanted him to have traits of a domestic breed because he obtains his animal aspect from a sheep in Abel's flock which would be several generations down from the original wild species in Eden. I really think a sheep suits Aziraphale! They're an incredibly common animal and have been since they were first domesticated. Likewise, since the start of human history, Aziraphale has been living side-by-side with humans, providing for them, and protecting them. Due to how common they are, sheep are often unnoticed, which Aziraphale leans into. Crowley wants to stand out. He has a dedicated aesthetic and an obsession with human invention, where Aziraphale leans more towards simpler, known things and creature comforts. He fades into the background, and that suits him fine. He doesn't have to be outstanding to Heaven or to humans or even to Crowley -- it's enough to do his part, to trust in a bigger plan. People associate sheep (especially lambs) with innocence or ignorance which foils nicely to Crowley as the serpent tempting with knowledge, as well as with Aziraphale's own sharp mind and ongoing embers of faith in a system that is failing him, Crowley, and all of humanity. Sheep are, like Aziraphale, soft, cute, and hiding a hard-headed stubbornness and a surprising strength that makes them absolutely fearsome. Aziraphale is very much the sort to put his head down and push relentlessly forward regardless of the pressure and strain. Rams in particular have thick skulls to withstand the brutal force of headbutting one another in displays of dominance. While Aziraphale is clever, he's not above rolling up his sleeves and getting the job done, as messy and unpleasant as it might be (see: pulling a gun on the Antichrist). Also sheep are associated with Pan, a god associated with food, music, theatre, and the criticism thereof, which hit many of Aziraphale's personal interests and hobbies! I like the idea that in a reverse AU, the demon formerly named Aziraphale might be the original basis for Pan!

I wrote in Orangutan for the first question because if I remember correctly they are some of the most violent apes. Although I'd accept bonobo for him too. They fuck alll the time.

mothman aziraphale,,,,, thats it

Snowy owl, speremint's tortoise, and I just adore the goat.

moth - dusty and eats books

Long Furby the way Loni-Capri draws it.

I keep thinking about that Black Philip quote "doest thou wish to live deliciously" because... it fits so much with the general epicurean/hedonism vibe the Fandom has for him ... but in a demonic way and also I think a lot abt that art piece (already referenced many times probably but what the hell) of him climbing his own bookshelves, it's just so good!!

Albino Lion/white lion (matches his hair). I feel like maybe I should explain why I think Lion would fit him best, lol. Lions actually are rather sedate, inactive for 20 hours of the day (see: Aziraphale reading and unmoving- yes I pulled wiki for this to make sure I didn't spout anything terribly wrong, shhh) but also there's nomad lions. Lions that range widely and move around sporadically either alone or in pairs (*looks at Crowley after apoconope*) (pairs are more frequent among males who have been excluded from their birth pride) but also I think of lions as protectors, defenders, and what is Aziraphale if not that? If not an angel who fiercely protects humans, crowley, earth? (When he finally overcomes heaven and it's abuse) lions don't hunt unless they're hungry, don't attack unless they're defending. They've been known to sit directly next to jeeps full of people and just watch them, not attacking or being aggresive.

I saw art once (I have no idea who the artist is) of Demon!Aziraphale climbing his bookcases like a goat and absentmindedly chewing on his sweater while he reads. I felt like the goat aspect suited him perfectly.

Honestly I wrote Az with a rat aspect because, well, it fits who I see demon Az as. He's not super powerful but he is very consequential, like rats carrying plague fleas (this also describes how I see Az tempting). He tries to blend into a crowd, which is arguably one way rats survive, and can get himself into places/situations that should be impossible or super difficult. Like snakes, rats have been unfairly maligned by our culture for a long time, even though they are very social with their colonies, smart, affectionate, and generally good beans. Finally, male pet rats are known far and wide as the lazier of the sexes while the girls are super curious and adventurous.

Somehow his tartan pattern becomes either his colour scheme or his coat/feather pattern.

Eurasian eagle owl. A big, unapologetic grump of an owl that is soft as soft can be underneath. Possessor of the glare to end all glares to be used in such dire situations as being interrupted when reading or being told one has "had enough cake".

#demon!aziraphale #reverse omens #sleepy speaks #fandom vote #aziraphale's demon aspect #this was so fucking fun you all

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mod2amaryllis · 4 years ago

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I'm sure you've received this question a hundred times but do you have some tips for training a deaf puppy? Thank you and sorry to bother you

OK YEAH SO definitely don’t consider training to be an area of expertise but Goose turned out decent so here are some things:

first thing: make sure you’re prioritizing just like, approaching it as A Puppy, and puppies are hard as a baseline. find a class to join for basics if your dog does well in a class setting (my area had a free puppy class option that worked great for Goose, look into it, but I DO think this is something worth spending money on if you have to). then my most recommended puppy literature is: Social, Civil, and Savvy: Training & Socializing Puppies to Become the Best Possible Dogs. it’s almost impossible for me to pay attention to nonfiction books and a lot of dog training books are really crunchy technical, but this book is super short, lots of pictures, big text, straightforward. I had an easy time absorbing it and the stuff works. awesome awesome training guide. also a good podcast is Drinking From the Toilet, which has had specific puppy and deaf training eps

AND BLANKET STATEMENT: socializing is just in general the most important thing for a puppy. like exposing them to new things. expose them to all types of people, all types of animals, all types of situations, all types of floors rooms buildings grass discomforts yadda yadda yadda this is JUST as important for a deaf puppy. blanket ass statement.

NOW FOR SOME DEAF DOG SPECIFIC STUFF

general stuff before I share personal observations: resources I turned to the most were probably Deaf Dogs Rock (awesome equipment recs, so many anecdotes from owners w/ specific advice) and Keller’s Cause (neat little training videos)

ok now personal experience

in the context of training it was helpful for me to think of deafness more as just another attribute as opposed to a disability. like how being a mini aussie makes her creepy-smart, being deaf makes her: not hear (obviously), highly observant, potentially more confident in situations that might intimidate hearing dogs, easily startled, dependent on passive training as opposed to command training. basically it’s not a hurdle. it forces you to be creative and work within her attributes. just like with literally any other dog.

obviously you will use signing. I don’t use ASL, I come up with whatever is intuitive for Goose and me. early training feels like you need 3 hands cuz you’re giving treats, you’re signaling “good job,” you’re signing commands, you’re maybe holding a leash, it’s a lot. so my signs had to be with 1 hand, they had to be intuitive, they had to be distinct from one another to avoid confusion. a few examples: SIT is a closed fist (I feel like most people already do this with their dogs); TOUCH is two fingers offered; LAY DOWN is those two fingers being lowered to the floor; SPEAK is a hand being opened rapidly. I have more but you get the picture. I actually have a notebook where I’d doodle commands as I went cuz I was literally just flying by the seat of my pants lmao

passive training has been clutch. this is kennel training, car training, leash training, basically establishing her life routine (idk if it’s actually called passive training??? i’m sure it all falls under “”””socializing”””” but that’s such a huge umbrella). these areas can be difficult to settle into but they really are essential. I don’t have car advice cuz my dogs drive w/ me to work every day and are fine so IDK WHOOPS but:

leash training: with goose being deaf it was weird because the trainer I worked with was heavily reliant on voice commands. so I put a LOT of time into the loose-leash game, which is walking on a leash in the house, and every few steps, you give the dog a treat AT YOUR SIDE. like hold your hand right by your leg. basically the idea is to teach your dog it’s cool and fun to stay by your side and check in with you every now and then. Goose still pulls on her leash but in a manageable way, and she knows to check back with me. also definitely rec a halter. this one’s my favorite.

kennel/sleep training (gonna spend a lot of time on this one cuz it was/is the worst thing about Goose): listen. this one will be hard. this one’s gonna suck. you will be SO tempted to just let them in your bed but you really, REALLY should not. letting them in the bed can foster separation anxiety especially with a deaf dog who’s probably gonna become your shadow. kennels instill confidence by giving a dog their own space, and if ever there’s an emergency when they need to go in the kennel, it’ll help them feel safe. like there’s so many reasons to kennel train. you gotta do it.

so...as a baby, Goose like almost killed me with sleep deprivation. we initially didn’t think we’d keep her (haha hubris) so she slept out of the bedroom. And Screamed. the ultimate solution was bringing her kennel in the bedroom next to Joanie’s kennel, and we’re pretty sure the reason that solved it is because she could wake up and SEE that there was another dog there. now she loves her kennel. shoots in there every night demanding her pb kong. BUT YEAH LISTEN if you DON’T HAVE some comforting visual/kinetic reassurance there, this could be a problem for a deaf puppy. AND. AND. the problem hasn’t gone away completely. Goose wakes us up at 5:30 am every single morning and probably will for the rest of her life because THAT is her routine and she is immune to our angry tired yelling. the simple act of us going to her kennel reinforces the behavior. we’re not jerks about it cuz we love her and understand how dog brains work. This Could Happen To You. Heads Up.

POSSIBLE SOLUTIONS: big sister dog like Joanie, worked for us; a floor fan creating vibrations, seemed to help her as a very young kiddo; being at least IN VIEW of you sleeping, like having the kennel riiiiight next to the bed, even within arm’s reach so you can reassure the puppy you’re still there. just...both in personal experience and in my research, I saw it a lot that sleeping is a big issue. cuz they can’t hear you, it’s dark, they don’t know if you’re still there, and committing to STILL attempting kennel training is the harder thing to do, but I really, really encourage you to try.

WOW. ok. fuck off I typed way more than I meant to. wanna hear some funny stuff?

Goose follows us around everywhere. she simply must know what’s goin on. we have beds stationed at every visual corner of the house, like sentry posts, so whatever room we’re in there’s a comfy place for her to sit where she can see us and she takes advantage of it. like she could be sleeping in one room and I’ll get up to brush my teeth, suddenly look down and she’s just teleported already asleep in the nearest bed to me.

sometimes Goose knocks on the door to come inside, and I’ll go to the door to let her in, and at literally the nanosecond before I open the door she dog-shrugs and turns and trots away and there’s nothing I can do. can’t call out to her. I’m bamboozled.

she is so fucking loud. I remember when she was a baby and my sis in law was like “wow so I bet she’s quieter than normal dogs huh” and I laughed like no actually she sounds like a rubber chicken going for that 4 chair turn on the voice, at ALL times.

sometimes I’ll do the speak command and she’ll do this huge windup, like big breath, eyes wide, and then release what is essentially a very little hiccup. but i still have to give her the treat. she doesn’t know the difference, not really.

always delighted to be woken up by you, wiggles her feet and starts licking her lips and looking up at you like “!!!! hello!!! omg!!! wow!!! a delight!!!”

doesn’t know the cats don’t like her. will trot up to Frisk and give what is in her mind a very polite little kiss on her nose before trotting away, oblivious to the offended growl she’s just elicited.

MUST BE PET. HOW ELSE WILL SHE KNOW SHE IS LOVED. MUST BE PET AT ALL TIMES NOW EVERYWHERE PLEASE.

...

realizing i could write a book about how much i love this deaf fucker

#dogs #dog training #deaf dog #goose #m2a #m2answers #long post #holy shit that's a lot lmao sorry #got carried away #i love it when people ask about my animals dude #i'm that parent who's ready to whip out the family album at any given moment #just say the word #like i could talk at length about any of them!!!!!#goose is just the most interesting in a public forum lmao

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loudsuitlover · 4 years ago

Text

Doctor Harry IX. Rojitas las Orejas

A/N: Again sinful smut because this is what this series is all about...

for now

INDIE’S POV

The light hits my eyes. It surprises me that I’ve been sleeping with how illuminated Harry’s bedroom is. No wonder he has trouble sleeping. I open my eyes without moving another part of my body. I am faced with Harry’s bedside table and the bottle of sleeping pills and the picture of him with his mum and sister. They’re both gorgeous and so is he, obviously. They look very happy too. Harry is a lot younger in that picture than he is now and his hair is longer too. It’s her sister’s graduation judging by her graduation cap and her hair is long, like Ollie’s, and blond and wavy.

When I tilt my head Harry’s looking at me standing from his side of the bed. He has a towel wrapped around his waist and his bare chest is almost dry except from the drops that fall from his hair. He’s grinning widely.

“You sleep quite a lot.” He notes.

I rub one of my eyes with my fist and yawn before I stretch my body like a lioness. I readjust the sheets over my naked body just when Harry hovers over me and some droplets from his wet hair fall on my face. He smells deliciously good from his recent shower. I love the smell of his shower gel. I inhale his scent and he grins above me. He leans down to kiss me but I cup his face with my hands and face him to the side.

“What are you doing?” His voice sounds squashed between his cheeks that I’m pressing together.

“Wait until I brush my teeth.”

I didn’t even brush them last night. I always carry one of those tiny toothbrushes to take with you on my purse because I like brushing my teeth after every meal but I forgot last night.

“Why?” He complains.

“Because of morning breath.”

“That’s silly, let me.”

“It’s not.”

He tries to get away from my grip and tilts his head to try to kiss me again but I wrestle his movements until he calls me out.

“Indie.”

The way he says my name with that deep voice of his and that accent turns me on and of course I want to kiss him too, I just don’t want him to taste my dry stinky mouth. He grips my wrists and pins them on the pillow on both sides of my head and I hold my breath. Breathe through your nose, Indie, that way he won’t smell it.

“Please let me kiss you.”

His green eyes pierce mine and I purse my lips to contain a smile but he gets it.

“If you don’t let me kiss these lips” his green eyes set on my mouth “I’ll kiss the others.”

I blush.

“It tastes like a dirty butthole.”

He rolls his eyes and bursts into laughter.

“Which ones?” He jokes.

“My mouth, silly, because I didn’t brush my teeth last night. I bet I smell terrible.”

He hums as if he was considering it and I feel his nose on the side of my neck before he inhales deeply. I try to push him away but he hums this time as if I was some sort of baked cake. I roll my eyes. He can be such a clown sometimes.

“No, stop, Harry! I’m disgusting.”

It’s true, I sweated last night and didn’t shower after sex and didn’t even brush my teeth so I bet I smell like a dead rat. He pulls the sheets under my breasts and gets one of my nipples on his mouth and without my awareness, I moan and my back arches like a cat. The way my body reacts to him, paying zero attention to what I have to say is embarassing but so very pleasurable. I feel him smiling against my breasts.

“Yeah, you’re disgusting.” He jokes before he gives the same attention to my other breast.

He then kisses over my collarbone and his lips kiss and suck the skin on the side of my neck. I sigh when I feel his white teeth playfully nibbling on my skin before he sucks it inside his mouth and I feel the blood running to the surface. I hadn’t even realized he had let my wrists go until I feel his fingertips skimming against my entrance when he squeezes my ass cheeks.

“I’m happy that you’re here.” He pecks my lips as if tasting the waters and I smile, bringing my hands to his hair so I can tangle my fingers on his locks. “Do you think I care about your morning breath, silly?” He smiles. “You looked adorable when you stretched yourself like a kitten but I also got to see your tit.” He squeezes one of my breasts as he says that. “And now I want you.” I feel his hard on against my thigh. “Does it really make you so uncomfortable if I kiss you now?”

“I just don’t want you to taste my horrible morning mouth.” I pout.

He chuckles against my lips and his fingers move farther down my ass until he grazes my lower lips again. I’m embarrassingly wet already.

“Come here and let me taste your dirty butthole.”

I grimace at how piggy he can be and he chuckles before his tongue dives inside my mouth, exploring the wet cave without leaving a single inch virgin of his touch. He tastes fresh and minty and I bet he’s about to puke. He’s grinning when he pulls away.

“You don’t taste like a dirty butthole.” He pecks my lips once. “Just a butthole, I’d say.”

“You’re a jerk.” I laugh and try to push him away but he clearly has to help me for that and he’s not budging.

He’s chuckling as he hides his face on the crook of my neck before he starts pecking my skin again. His hands leave my body to rest on either side of me but he continues pressing kisses across my skin from my neck to my sternum and then across my collarbones and my shoulders. I’m amazed at his attention but my skin pumps begging for something more ardent and fiercer. He’s keeping his hands to himself on purpose. He knows he’s driving me crazy.

“You know I love how you smell, right?” I can hear the lust on his voice as he kisses his way down my belly and kisses my navel.

He’s getting closer to where I need him... I’m desperate for him.

“And I mean your skin, your scent, not your perfume.” I feel his nose against the skin below my navel as he inhales. “That’s why it’s silly for you to hide from me when you’re wearing nothing but you.”

He licks my skin where the hem of my underwear should be and I see his grin when I let my eyes look down. It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen, green hungry eyes boring into mine with his mouth hovering my pussy. I can feel his hot breath against my clit and I don’t know how long I’m going to take his teasing.

“You smell so good down here too.”

His hands finally rest on my skin and he sets on fire every part he touches. I’m going to give myself a delirium if he doesn’t fuck me already. His smile is adding to that delirium state too because it’s hard to know I’m not dreaming. I return his smile and his eyes darken as he tilts his neck and presses a kiss against my inner thigh. Please, don’t. His ritual begins with my leg and he covers my thigh with kisses until he sucks on the inner side of my knee. I try to pull him towards me sinking my ankle on his back but he chuckles and grabs it, pressing kisses on my calf muscle until he reaches my ankle and carefully kisses it too.

“You have such beautiful legs.” He compliments, grabbing my other ankle and bringing my feet to his mouth. “You have very beautiful everything.”

His green eyes stare into mine as he licks a stripe from my knee to my groin and then he stops and grins. I can see his hard on through his towel and it comforts me that he seems to be as turned on as I am but he’s enjoying the effect he has on me so much he can wait.

“Harry I’m going to cum.”

He laughs and then bites on my ankle and I hiss. He stares at my sex and then at me and I begin to blush. He’s memorizing every bit of me and it’s making me nervous.

“I just” He chuckles “You’re fucking gorgeous, Indie.”

“I’m so wet too.” I joke.

“I’m coming, I’m coming.” He chuckles.

Just the first long lick is worth the torture of the anticipation. His name slips from my lips as I sigh and stretch my back against the bed and his tongue leaves lengthy and slow licks against my lips and my clit. I look down at his head between my legs as it moves like a feline animal drinking from a pond. His eyes aren’t close but they look that way to me because he’s looking down at what he’s licking so his eyelashes hit his cheeks but I appreciate that he lets me watch him unobserved. That’s until his green eyes meet my curious ones and I swear my heart skips a beat. I can feel him smile against my wetness as his blown away eyes turn cheerful. He’s always saying I’m beautiful but he is so perfect it’s mesmerizing.

His right hand is curled on my thigh keeping my legs opened for him but the left one leaves my hip to search for my hand on the mattress and when he finds it, he brings it to his head and hums against my dripping sex when I pull from his hair.

He alternates eating me out hungrily like a watermelon slice on a hot summer morning and leaving slow careful licks that go from my very entrance to my clit. He gives me a second before one lick and the other and I know he’s doing it to extend this because he can surely feel my clit throbbing and he knows my orgasm is just around the corner.

“Don’t cum yet, Indie.” He purrs.

I’m trying to but at the same time my stomach turns upside down as if he was sucking that out too. I fight for air and wiggle because despite how much I love what he’s doing, it’s like my body can’t take it and it tries to set me free from his merciless licks. His grip on my thighs make it impossible anyway.

Every stab of his tongue not only takes juices away, he’s also draining me out of all strength and all self-control and right now I feel completely given to him. I am not even aware of how loud my whimpers have grown. I sink my head against the pillow as my back arches from the bed and the tingles turn into electric currents that leave goose bumps everywhere on my skin.

“Harry” I whimper-moan, afraid I might go crazy for good.

He seems to understand where my pain is because he moves one hand from my thigh to the lower part of my belly and massages it as if that was going to release the tension he’s been building even though it seems to make exactly the opposite. I sigh.

“That’s it, baby” He soothes me “you’re doing so good.” His tongue licks my throbbing clit. “Do you want to cum?”

“Please” I’m out of my mind “Harry, please.”

“That’s okay, baby. I’m gonna make you cum.”

Harry accelerates his tongue against my clit and when I think it couldn’t possibly get better, I feel a finger sliding inside my wet cave. I pull from his hair and he moans. I feel so stimulated, I don’t think I’ve ever been this aroused. I feel like he’s tiding a knot on my lower belly and pulling and pulling and pulling until… it undid. I can’t control my hips as they ride Harry’s mouth and when I think my need for him couldn’t get any more embarrassing, I feel a gush releases from within that sends Harry into a moaning frenzy as he licks it all.

I hadn’t realized my eyes were shut until I open them. Harry is staring at me wiping his chin clean with his hand and his hair is a mess from all my pulling. I feel my walls clenching as I take him in. It’s unfair how my body reacts to him and how I want him again despite the mind-blowing orgasm he just gave me.

“You taste incredible.” He smiles.

He climbs up my body like a tiger and I hungrily kiss his mouth, letting my curious tongue taste myself on his, and he hums at my curiosity.

“See? Did you taste yourself on me?” I’m fucking throbbing. “Did you like it?” He grins.

He knows I loved it. I fucking gushed on him for fuck’s sake but I’m learning he has a thing for praising. I smile.

“I thought I was going to die.”

He laughs.

“I hope that’s a good thing.” He kisses the side of my neck before he sucks at it again.

“I loved it.” I reassure him.

He hums as he keeps kissing me and then he presses his hard on against my groin once. If he thinks I’ve forgotten about him he’s wrong but I don’t have any energy to move yet. I want to have him in my mouth too, return the favour, but instead he whispers on my ear.

“Well now hold on to something.”

With his signature speed, he rolls the condom on and places my hands on the headboard, so he was serious. I understand when he thrusts inside me with a strength that has me screaming. I’m afraid he’s going to embed me into the wall but my triceps do as they can as I hold my body against the headboard and welcome his hard thrusts.

He seems to be out of his mind as he lowers one of his hands down my back and grab my ass as he drills me hard against the bed. He’s a groaning mess on top of me and I think I’m going to gush on him again. I can’t control the volume of my moans.

“Fuck, Indie.” He gasps.

“I’m gonna cum, Harry.” I scream, my eyes roll to the back of my head.

“Already?” He groans. “Wait, baby, hold it in.”

I’ve never felt this way before, completely fucked and completely loving every second of it. I want him to hurt me, I want him to break me in half, to get so deep inside me I can feel him on my chest.

“I…” He cuts my whining short when he pushes me against the headboard agan. “I can’t.”

The sounds are melting me; the clapping sound of his skin against mine, his worked up breathing, his sighs, my own moans, the headboard against the wall. I think he’s going to break it. I try to hold it in as he asked me but I can’t, I feel all my muscles tensing and still I try to hold it clenching my walls as I can.

“Fuck, fuck” He gasps, his breath hits my cheek “feel so good, love; and sound so sexy… I could fuck you all day.”

“Harry, please.” I’m afraid I might start crying.

“Let go, baby.” He soothes me. “It’s okay.”

“Cum with me.” I beg him. “Please, Harry, cum with me.” My mouth search for his ear. “I want to feel you.” I whisper.

“Fuck.”

His thrusts turn even faster and I feel his hard on rub against my clit from the inside in a frenetic rhythm that has me worried he’ll set me on fire. I feel the pression building on my belly and my legs start to shake. He stops my left leg with his hand and I scream when the orgasm drains every last bit of me. His breath catches on his throat as he lets go inside me. It’s the first time in my life the condom bothers me. I want to feel him release his white stream inside me.

His chest is erratically going up and down when he lets himself fall on top of me. I feel him slowly rolling out of me in contrast with how fast our hearts are beating before his head drops on my shoulder. I want to hug him and I do, combing my fingers through his hair and concentrating on his breathing.

I frown when I wake up. I’m not even aware of when I fell back asleep. I look to my side and don’t find Harry and when I touch the mattress is cold against my warm hand. I get up from his comfy bed wrapping his sheets around my body and I take my purse before I make my way into his bathroom. I wash my face and brush my teeth and I think what to do with my messy hair. I want to let it down because I know Harry likes it but I do pick up half of it on a bun on top of my head. When I’m happy with the result I go out and notice he’s sitting on a stool on the kitchen typing away on his laptop.

He was right when he said he worked a lot. It’s 10 am on a Saturday. His laptop should be closed and kept on its case. He smiles when he turns to face me.

“Hi, Sleeping Beauty.”

“Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“I had some things to do.” He shrugs. “And you looked so peaceful.”

He pulls the stool away from the table and opens his arms so I walk towards him and he sits me on his lap and kisses me.

“You screamed a lot.” He smiles smugly as he tacks a strand of hair behind my ear.

I chuckle and blush, I know I did. My eyes drop to his shirtless chest and trace his skin. He’s wearing sweatpants again. I love this version of him.

“Are you hungry?” I nod my head vigorously and he chuckles.

“Okay. Why didn’t you grab some clothes? You can take anything you want.”

“Thank you.” I peck his cheek and disappear back on his room.

I search for my underwear on the floor but make a grimace when I find my panties. They’re disgustingly wet and sticky. I rub my forehead. When he said I could take anything I wanted, did that include underwear? I spot his red sweater from last night on the floor and grab it. Putting it on, I realize it almost reaches my midthigh so I go without undies.

“What’s taking you so long?”

Harry enters his room like a whirlwind and picks me up bridal style like he did last time I was here and I laugh at his antics. He seems to love manoeuvring my body like a puppet. He’s so extra.

“What do you want for breakfast?”

“A cherimoya.”

“I don’t have any.” He frowns.

“Well I want one.”

“I’ll have to run to the shop.”

I look at him totally amazed. He seems serious.

“I was kidding.”

He narrows his green eyes and stops at the kitchen counter before he puts me down on a stool.

“You’ll pay for that.”

I roll my eyes. I’m not afraid of him. He rests his hands on the counter and watches me as I eye his kitchen. I want to see his living room in the daylight but I’m giving it my back. With the sun coming in through the big window on his side, I can see how cleaned his kitchen is. It almost looks new. I wonder if he cooks even though he told me he’s a good cook, but he could have been buffing.

“Do you want me to make you pancakes?”

“You make pancakes?”

He laughs.

“It’s fucking easy to make pancakes.”

“It’s not so easy to make a good pancake though.” I shrug.

“I’ll make pancakes and you let me know if they’re good.” He smiles and I nod. “My dad used to make pancakes every sunday when we were growing up.” He tells me as he searches for the ingredients on the cupboards. “Even though I’m not sure I have everything I need…”

“You don’t know what you have on your kitchen?”

“I mean flour is something I don’t use a lot.” He shrugs.

“You don’t make pancakes for the other girls?”

He’s giving me his back but he tilts his neck so he can look at me, he grins and shakes his head.

“No, I don’t.” He chuckles.

“Why not?”

“Because they don’t spend the night.” He rests his fists on his hips. “Do you like avocado?”

I laugh before I nod, there won’t be any pancakes for me either.

“Then I’m making avocado toast.” He smiles.

“Let me help you.”

I jump from my stool and circle the counter before I stand next to him. He lets me know where the fruit is and he gets the bread on the toaster before he starts smashing an avocado with a fork and then adding tiny bits of tomato, a bit of lemon juice, pepper and salt.

“Coffee?” He asks.

I nod and he turns the coffee machine on before he spreads his avocado mix on both our toasts. He sets everything on the kitchen counter, the fruit, the toasts and two cups of coffee. He looks at me waiting for me to sit down before he takes a seat himself. I sit back on the stool he had dropped me in before and he sits right in front of me. He grabs his phone and I hear some soft music coming out from speakers on his living room. It’s a pop song I’ve heard thousands of times on the radio.

“Never thought you’d be into pop music.”

“Why not?”

I shrug. I don’t actually know.

“It’s not like this is a playlist of my favourite songs.” He explains. “But I do like pop. I like pretty much everything. I played it because I thought you’d like it.”

“I don’t even know this song.”

He smiles.

“Me neither but it’s one of those spotify playlist… 2020 super pop hits or some shit like that.”

I chuckle as he smiles at me and then I wrinkle my nose dismissing the 2020 super pop hits playlist as I take a bite from the toast.

“This is good, Harry.” I tell him.

He nods and smiles.

“So you don’t like pop music?”

“I mean it’s not that I don’t like it. It’s just not something I would listen to if I was choosing the music.” I shrug.

“And what would you choose?”

“Extremoduro.”

“Extremoduro?” He tries it on his English tongue and it’s adorable. “What’s that?”

“That’s Spanish rock.”

“You like rock?” His green eyes widen.

“I love rock.”

His eyes narrow again.

“Are you just saying this on my sweater to feed the myth of Indigo Blue Anderson?”

I throw my head back and laugh.

“What’s the myth of Indigo Blue Anderson?”

“Like this sexy goddess who drinks gin and tonic, paints her lips red and listens to rock.”

I roll my eyes.

“Don’t turn me into a myth. I’ll disappoint you easily.”

“Oh, no, don’t worry. I’m very aware of your flaws.”

That kills my mood. Sometimes I wish he wasn’t so straightforward. I’m very aware of my flaws too, I don’t need him to remind me. I shut my thighs together, suddenly uncomfortable wearing so little cloths. My thighs are too chubby, on the summer I get this rash on my inner thighs if I walk along the beach on my bikini and I have a muffin top- it’s not big but it’s definitely there and also love handles if I were low waist jeans which I never do. I just know what to wear. I always choose clothes that flatter me and where I feel comfortable but obviously when I’m naked you can see all those things and he’s seen me naked quite a lot.

“Hey, I was kidding.” He has a sip from his coffee. “I mean you have flaws but so do I.” He shrugs.

Does he though?

“And anyway I’m sure we weren’t thinking about the same things.” He chuckles. “When I say flaws, maybe I should say things I don’t particularly like about you.”

“I don’t care what you don’t like about me.” I shrug.

“See? That’s one of them.” He eats.

“You know nothing about me.” I shake my head. “Can I have some sugar for my coffee?”

He smiles and hands me the sugar.

“Do you sleep on silk sheets?”

I don’t answer and he grins. I blame myself for having him starting this guessing game. So what if I sleep on silk sheets? We have money. What does that say about me?

“Do you have a walk-in wardrobe with a dressing table on it?”

“Cold.” I chuckle.

He thinks I’m an average posh girl.

“Do you have a chihuahua?”

“Frozen!”

“Would you name it Gucci?”

“You’re an idiot.”

We both laugh and keep having breakfast.

“You ride horses.”

Our eyes meet and he raises an eyebrow.

“Maybe.”

“You showed me last night.” He shrugs and I swat his arm. He laughs.

“You grew up among women.” I guess.

His green eyes look up from his clementine to me.

“You saw the photo on my bedside table. That’s cheating.”

I shrug. I didn’t say it because of that. I said it because of the way he treats me and how observant he is but I’ll let him think I’m that basic.

“You go to a country club with your family on summer holidays.”

“What do you think my life is? Dirty Dancing?”

He throws his head back and laughs.

“Have you ever taken the tube?”

“You’re the one who drives a Range Rover!” I accuse him. “And don’t think I didn’t notice this sweater is Gucci.”

“Like your chihuaha.” He jokes and I roll my eyes but smile anyway. “And a cat? A white cat with a pink ribbon called Marie?”

I laugh. I have to make sure he never sees my keychain because my father got me a Marie cat from The Aristocats in Paris about five years ago and I still have it.

“Why do you have so many preconceptions?”

“You’re gonna pretend you don’t have any about me?”

“You’re hard to read.” I confess. “Even your house is a little impersonal.”

“I don’t spend much time here.” He justifies.

“Where are you from? I barely know anything about you.”

“I’m from Bellamond.”

My eyebrows raise on my forehead. Bellamond is close from Grad but it’s a small humble town. I would have never guessed he was born and raised in Bellamond, wearing Gucci and sleeping on silk sheets. I had taken him to be a posh city guy like me.

“Surprised?” He smirks.

“A little.”

“Do you mind?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know, having slept with some villager.” He shrugs.

“Seriously, Harry, what kind of bitch do you think I am?” I frown. “Just because I wear expensive clothes doesn’t mean I’m such an idiot. I couldn’t care less where you’re from.”

“You asked.” He shrugs.

“To get to know you, not to judge you.” I frown.

I don’t know when he made this image out of me. I don’t think I’ve said things like that to him. Is this what most people think of me?

“I lived in Bellamond until I graduated and then I moved to Grad to be closer to the hospital when I got the job. I got the job because of my thesis.” His green eyes look on mine as if checking whether I knew that or not. “I got a lot of offers.” He explains.

“What was your thesis about?”

“It’s not about what it was about. I just noticed this correlation between epilepsy and post surgery hypothermia and then some other people kept investigating that and apparently there is a correlation so…” He shrugs.

My lips part. He’s a geek too.

“I did this presentation at Grad Uni two years ago. I thought you knew.” He shrugs, belittling it.

I’m suddenly very intimidated and to think I’ve been doing an essay for him to check makes me embarrassed.

“Do you really think I’m smart?”

He tilts his head and frowns.

“Of course. Don’t you?”

“I know I’m smart. Just… Not the kind of smart that finds a correlation between two things like that out of nowhere.”

“That’s not about being smart.” He looks at me as if I had gone crazy. “That’s about being perceptive. And I’m very perceptive.” He smiles. “That’s why I knew you sleep on silk sheets. You lied on them in my bed and didn’t mention anything, that’s because you’re used to silk.” He shrugs as if it was a simple deduction. “Do you sleep naked?”

I throw my head back and laugh.

“You have a very beautiful laughter.” He notices.

“We have already had sex.” I chuckle. “You can stop doing that.”

“What?”

“Complimenting me all the time.”

“Why would I stop?”

“Well, you don’t need to.” I shrug.

“So? Should I not tell you you’re beautiful if I think you are?” He frowns like he’s completely confused.

I start to think maybe he wasn’t saying those things just to take me to bed.

“You’re very insecure, Indie.” Is he letting me know? “And honestly I don’t get why. You are breath-taking. Do you not think you’re beautiful?”

I smile but I don’t want to talk about my insecurities with him out of all people.

“You are gorgeous.” He decides.

“So are you.”

He grins and lets it be.

“Are you done?” His fingers hold my empty plate and I nod.

“Thanks for breakfast.”

“Thank you.” He gives me his back as he puts the plates on the dishwasher. “I liked my breakfast on bed more than the toast.”

He loves making me blush.

“Can I have a shower?”

“Of course. Don’t ask me that.”

I walk towards his bathroom.

“And for the love of God put on some of my underwear when you go out if you don’t want to kill me, woman.”

I laugh as I make my way to the bathroom. His bathroom is as clean as the rest of his house. I wonder whether he has someone hired to clean. He probably does because he said he doesn’t spend much time home. I leave his sweater on the white counter on his bathroom and step inside the shower.

It scares me how right he would have been about most of the things he said had I never met Dylan. I would have never named my dog Gucci, I’m not that tacky; but he would have been right about pretty much everything else.

I imagine him talking to my family. Would Mum like him? She probably would, even though he’s older and he doesn’t come from our circle. They liked Dylan and Dylan wasn’t from our circle either.

I only realize I’m crying when I feel the salty taste of my tears. That conversation reminded me of Dylan more than I would like to admit and the fact that I’m now showering at some other guy’s house and wearing his clothes and having breakfast with him… What does that say about me?

And what are the things he doesn’t like about me? He doesn’t even know about Dylan. If he has things he doesn’t like about me now, if he ever knows about Dylan then he’d run away for good. But I don’t care about that. This is just sex. Harry can leave whenever he wants. I’ll find another one even though I’m sure there’s nobody else who can give me that kind of orgasms… Or maybe there is? Yeah, there probably is.

When I get out of the shower, I comb my hair with a brush I find on the cupboard under the sink and brush my teeth again and after wrapping the towel around my body, I walk inside his room and open his wardrobe. The bed is perfectly made, he must have done it while I was in the shower. He said I could take anything, underwear too, and this time he didn’t leave anything ready for me. He probably just wants to see what I choose. I shake my head at the realization.

He mostly has suits and dressing shirts on the left side and on the right side he has expensive sweaters and jeans. I’ve seen him wearing sweatpants though and I know he works out so he must have sport clothes somewhere. I find cotton t-shirts on one of the drawers and grab the first one I see. I smile when I see is an Elvis Presley t-shirt. I wonder if he likes rock and roll. I also grab a pair of grey Calvin Klein boxers- because he doesn’t have any brandless- and I choose not to look at myself in the mirror before I go ask him whether he has a hair dryer.

He's still typing away on his laptop but now he’s sitting down on the couch. The kitchen is cleaned too. Either I took longer than I thought in the shower or he’s the fastest cleaner on earth and he even got time to work. I don’t have to say anything for his green eyes to leave the screen of his laptop and set on me. His hands stop the typing and his eyes roam my body up and down. His jaw clenches and I can almost hear him think.

“Damn.” He smiles.

“Do you have a hair drier?”

He shakes his head. I should have known better. He doesn’t need one. I shrug and grab my phone from the kitchen counter before I take a seat on the armchair right in front of the spot on the couch where he’s sitting and I check my texts. The Golden Girls’ group isn’t active since 4 am and I assume the girls might still be sleeping as hangover as they get and J must be with David. They were going to the beach today. I then text my mum to let her know I’m still alive.

Harry’s very quiet and he’s not typing anymore and when I look up at him, I catch his green eyes roaming my bare legs up and down. He seems to be obsessed with me.

“Do you like Elvis Presley?” I start a conversation.

“He’s my favourite singer.”

“Really?” I grin.

“You find it funny?”

“It’s peculiar.” I shrug.

“He’s The King. What’s peculiar about that?” He states and I try not to laugh.

I agree with him. I also think Elvis Presley’s the king; but it’s just funny to me that he defends him so seriously.

“Even though it’s hard to think about him when I can see your nipples peeking through my t-shirt.”

I roll my eyes. He really is insatiable. He places his laptop on the coffee table between us and circles it before he fully lies on top of me. His phone is vibrating against the table but he doesn’t pay any attention to it as he corners me. I try to look away but I just can’t take my eyes off of him. He’s mesmerising with those beautiful green eyes and those pinks lips and the way he licks them staring at me... He holds my hand and brings it to his chest. His heartbeat is completely tachycardic.

“Can you feel it?”

I nod, totally hypnotized by him. I feel like Mowgli talking to the snake. He grins.

“Either I work out or I eat you.”

My heartbeat mimics his in seconds. I can’t control my body when he’s close to me. My body’s reaction is so separated from my mind, which seems to just shut down, that it scares me. I’ve never had this with anyone else. It’s like my body already knew him, like I had forgotten about him but my body hadn’t. It’s incredible how just the touch of his skin can turn me on but I love the way he touches me. For the moment I’m with him, I feel beautiful and free, and I want to feel like that all the time.

“So what should I do?”

I cup his face and he leans into my touch.

“You could have a cold shower too.” I tease.

He looks away from me and snorts and before I can hold him back, he stands up and I see him disappear inside his bathroom. Is he really going to take a cold shower? No! I don’t want him to! I want him to fuck me.

As soon as I walk inside the bathroom he pushes his front against my back and corners me against the white marble top. I see his grin on the mirror and smile back at him.

“You’re so funny, Indie.” He jokes.

I feel his hard on against the lowest part of my back and all I want is for him to bend me over the counter and take me from behind.

“Fuck me.” I beg.

My fingers cling on the marble top for dear life when his large hands descend from my waist to remove my boxers. His hands look so pale in contrast with my skin. We’re at the end of October but I still keep my summer tan. Always caressing my skin, his fingers snake around the hem of his t-shirt that I’m wearing and he takes it off, letting it fall on the floor next to us.

“Fuck.”

I gasp when his hand moves down between my legs and he presses his wrist against my clit, tilting his wrist in circular motions and sending me into a moaning frenzy. His other hand holds my bare waist firmly and his green eyes are set on the mirror staring at me. I entertain my eyes with the way his hand moves against me but I feel the air being sucked out of my lungs and I’m afraid if I keep watching the way he posses me I’ll cum in a minute like I always do. I think it’s safe to look up but when my eyes scan my naked body I spot every flaw I try to ignore on a daily basis.

I look down to the marble top and focus on his arm trying to erase that image from my head. He said he’s very aware of my flaws too... Then how does he want to fuck me all the time? How does he want to fuck me at all? He could have any girl from a catwalk. His finger sliding inside my hole cut my thoughts short and I scream when another finger joins in and thrust inside me.

“Indie.”

His lust mixes with concern as he calls my name. The hand that’s not between my legs grabs my chin and lifts my head. My eyes are closed. I try to distract him. I don’t want him to try to fix my insecurities with stupid compliments he doesn’t even mean. I caress his hard on with my hand and hear him gasp on my ear.

“Indie.”

I finally open my eyes. Harry doesn’t stop his intrusion but he stares at me thoughtfully. His fingers keep moving in and out of me, very slowly and I can feel his jawline against my temple as he speaks.

“What’s wrong?”

I press my hips against his until I feel his length between my ass cheeks and I start riding my hips, helping his hand and tribbing against his hard cock. He stops my hips with his hand and presses a kiss to my temple.

“Tell me what’s wrong.” He pleads.

I shake my head. I can’t even look at him. It’s like everything Javier ever said about me keeps hunting me. I thought dumping him would be enough to get his toxic voice out of my head but it isn’t. I keep hearing him telling me my thighs are too thick to wear such short skirts, that they don’t really flatter me. At the time I was stupid enough to think he was saying that for my own good, so that I didn’t walk around being ridiculous like a piglet on woman’s clothes. He also used to say I should exercise more. I already exercise, I run and I do abs and gluts and legs exercises but my body’s built is just like this. I’ve tried so many diets and I honestly eat very healthy. My diet’s just like Coco’s and she’s still almost two sizes thinner than me. It gets to a point where there’s little I can do.

“You don’t want to?” His voice sounds panicky as his finger abandon me. “Because that’s totally fine. I apologize if I’ve pushed you in anyway, you’ve got to know you can always-“

I turn around, cup his cheeks and stop his rambling with a kiss. He’s never pushed me and I won’t have him think otherwise. I’ve enjoyed every minute I’ve had with him and I’m as horny as he is all the time because there’s just something I can’t control around him.

“It’s not you. Everything you do is perfect.”

He sighs. He doesn’t seem too convinced.

“You just don’t want to do it in front of the mirror.”

Damn, reading people’s mind might be possible. I nod. This time it’s him who cups my cheeks and kisses my mouth.

“Undress me.” He whispers against my lips.

He keeps kissing me, his tongue intruding my mouth. I wonder how such a wet, short muscle can give such pleasure. I could kiss him for hours and he gave me a demonstration of how good his tongue can feel on my other lips too… I don’t think I’ll ever get enough.

I take my time undressing him like he does with me and caress down his chest and abs until I slide my hands under the hem of his boxers and pull both his boxers and his sweatpants down together. I wonder if he takes as much pleasure when I undress him than I do when he does the same with me. When he’s fully naked, his hands snake around my waist and he turns me around so I’m facing the mirror again. He holds my chin and my waist forcing me to stare at our reflection.

“Look at yourself, baby.” He called me baby again. “Please.”

I focus on him and he lets me at first. I can barely see him for he’s standing right behind me but the little I can see, that is his shoulders and the upper part of his chest and his arms around me are something to behold. It’s like he was made to be stared at.

“You know you’re very hot, don’t you?”

“You don’t need to say that.” I hold his stare through the mirror. “You already got me naked in your bathroom. You don’t have to keep working for it.”

“Working for it…” He repeats. “Indie, you’re fucking hot. You’re very cold but you’re gorgeous and your body” his green eyes leave mine so he can roam my reflection up and down “your body is a wonderland, baby.”

I chuckle.

“You’re turning mushy on me.”

He chuckles too and shrugs before he presses a kiss to my shoulder. This is the side of him Marie doesn’t know. Well, nobody knows, but I bet if Marie knew him like this she wouldn’t be so crossed about him.

He’s told me before he never lies and it makes me mad that it was so easy for me to believe Javier’s nasty words and instead I can’t seem to believe Harry. I mean he does get turned on all the time but I figured that was more about him than it is about me. He likes sex, that’s a fact, and I know I’m not the only girl he sleeps with. I wonder if he says all these things to them too.

“Do you really think that?” The vulnerability on my voice betrays me.

“If I didn’t, you wouldn’t be here.”

This time I do look at my face in the mirror, because I certainly don’t want to see his after that, and even to me it looks like the personification of excuse me?

“You said it yourself. This is just sex. You don’t need to know the ins and outs of a person to like them physically and even though I know you now- even though you keep telling me I don’t- and I know your ins are very interesting, I didn’t need to know any of that to want to fuck you. I thought you were hot straight away when we met. I mean I gave you a hug before I introduced myself.” He frowns as if he was judging himself and I chuckle. “Who does that?”

I throw my head back as I laugh and it hits his chest. I think about him asking me out and then calling me to ask again and I think about that first dinner; it surprises me the whole thing was because of how I look.

“See? You look gorgeous when you laugh too.” His hands go back to my hips and his fingertips tease my skin dangerously close to the place he left wet and unattended. “You also look gorgeous when you cum, you know?” He presses a kiss to the spot below my ear.

His fingers move down to my centre again and my eyes set on the reflection of his large hands on the mirror. It’s mesmerising. He sucks on the skin of my neck until the blood goes to the surface and then he licks to soothe the sting. He sighs against my wet skin raising goosebumps all over my shoulders and chest and grins at the effect he has on me.

“I want you to watch yourself.” He whispers on my ear before he nibbles on my earlobe.

His large hand travels down my neck to my chest where he squeezes my breast on his hand. My pelvis instinctively shifts back to relieve some of the tension.

“These stunning full breasts of yours…” He squeezes them on his hands and my nipples and the rest of my body reacts to him. “I love them.”

His fingers trace the skin on my waist before he squeezes my flanks. I can see my flesh spilling from his hands but I don’t think it would feel better for him if it were different.

“Your waist…” holding my waist he pushes me further against the sink until my lower lips press against the cold, soft end and I moan. His hands move to my hips “and your hips that you sway when you walk and drive me crazy” and he moves my body up and down, rubbing my wet lips and clit against the marble top.

I gape like a fish. His hands continue exploring my body moving from my hips down to my ass cheeks. He slaps me and I gasp and giggle, amused at how much I liked that. He’s grinning as he pecks my temple.

“Your ass…” He hums as he grabs it making my walls clench and my wetness spread on my inner thigh “so round and soft… I want to bite it.”

I am a moaning mess by the time he reaches my thighs.

“And these thighs… Oh, man, these thighs… When I saw my t-shirt hugging these thighs the other day… I wanted to crash you against the wall and squeeze your thighs on my hands as I buried myself inside you, baby… And this morning when you had them wrapped around my face…” He hums.

My hand crawls to the back of his head and I tangle my fingers on his hair and only then I realize I’ve been moving my hips on my own against the sink. I’m humping a marble top in front of Harry but somehow it doesn’t embarrass me or even seems strange to me. That’s what he does to me.

“You’re a goddess, Indie.”

His hard length presses against my butt and he pushes me further against the top. He’s enjoying the show. My eyes get used to my body. I don’t know if it’s because there’s not enough blood in my brain for me to have complex thoughts or whether his words actually has such effect on me but I’m not upset with my body anymore. If he likes it so much, it must be better than I think, because his body is perfect and his face is beyond perfect so if even from his perfection he sees me pretty, that must mean something.

“But” What? Don’t ruin it “there isn’t enough Indie here.” His index finger taps where my heart is.

My lips part as my eyes set on his finger on my chest. I sigh. I couldn’t fight him on that but before I can think too much about it, his fingers press on the side of my neck and he guides my mouth to his.

The hand that was pointing at my heart cups my breast and he squeezes the flesh until I moan on his mouth. My right hand snake around his neck until I pull from his soft hair. He groans on my mouth, he likes it when I do that. But in a second he disappears and I gasp when he playfully bites my ass cheek like he said he wanted to. He chuckles as he cuts the condom package open.

His mouth covers mine in a kiss and his tongue dives inside as his hands hold my hips and move them up and against him and my back arches like a puppy bending down to seep in under a fence.

I’ve been taken from behind before, but never like this and I’ve never wanted it more. His hand grabs one of my breasts as he trusts inside me in one long, slow motion. We both sigh at the delicious intrusion. His warm hand finds my clit and he presses slow but firm circles against my skin. My head falls to his shoulder and I gasp and moan his name.

“Open your eyes.” He whispers on my neck.

When I do the imagine before me makes me gasp. The lack of blood in my brain makes it hard to process what I see so it’s hard for me to recognize the girl in front of me. Her cheeks are pink and her lips are red from kissing. I’ve seen her before, on this same bathroom, and I like her. She’s beautiful and her eyes are sparkly and have… Life in them. Sometimes I think that’s what I’m missing. There’s not enough Indie here.

I see Harry too. His green eyes are set on the mirror too and he smiles when our eyes meet. His left hand is holding my hair on a messy bun so he can pull my back to his chest and the other hand massages my sex.

The slow rhythm of his hips is a torture I don’t mind for it lets me feel the entirety of him, from the base to the tip, every time he moves in and out of me.

“You’re so thick.” I sigh. “I love it.”

“You like it slow?” He licks a stripe on the side of my neck and I hum a response. “Kiss me.”

My belly flips at his plead. I tilt my head and press my lips against his and only then I realize how tense he is. This slow pace seems to be killing him too.

“Do you wanna go faster?” I whisper against his lips.

“I want you to kiss me.”

I chuckle against his mouth. His lips are parted for me yet I run my tongue across his bottom lip. I know I’m driving him crazy but he drives me crazy all the time, he deserves it. I hear him breathe in through his nose when my tongue finally gets inside his mouth and he pulls from my hair. I moan out load, I love the sting.

Our kiss is intense but intimate and if he wasn’t so slowly drilling my love channel it would be almost uncalled for giving what we are. But I love kissing him and I love how he kisses me back and I don’t care about anything else.

“Shit, Indie” He whines against my mouth “I can’t get enough of you.”

My stomach tenses up and he growls.

“Baby, I’m gonna go faster.” He grunts. “I can’t take it anymore.”

“Fuck me hard, Harry... Like you did this morning.”

“Fuck, Indie.” He growls.

I feel his hand releasing my hair before it moves between my shoulder blades and he pushes me away from him so my belly hits the marble top. I moan when he pushes inside me.

“Do you feel me deeper?” He grunts behind me.

“Yes.” I moan. “Fuck, yes, fuck me harder, Harry.”

I feel his grip on my hips tightening and then he starts drilling me against the marble top like he did this morning on his bed. I hear him grunt and gasp in a frenzy and I’d calm him down if I wasn’t at the edge of madness myself. I’ve never been this desperate and this hungry for anyone.

“You like it when I fuck you like this, don’t you?” He thrusts inside with the strength of a hurricane. “Fast and hard.”

I nod my head. My knuckles are white as I hold on to the top.

“Such a dirty girl, Indie.”

I feel the knot on my belly again. I don’t know how many more seconds I can hold it in but I don’t think he’s gonna last much longer anyway. I lift my hips up and I moan as he curses at the new angle. I feel my climax taking over me. My muscles tense and I remain blind for a second as I feel a current of electricity run across my body. For a moment there’s nothing around me and I’m nothing either but the spot where he’s connected with me.

His hand tangles on my hair and he pulls me to him so he can kiss my neck while his thrusts turn sloppier and slower until they stop. He hugs my waist as he catches his breath over my shoulder and presses a kiss there as he rolls out of me.

“Fuck.” He smiles.

With his fingers on my chin, he tilts my neck and kisses me again. It’s an innocent kiss that brings back the calm. He smacks my ass with a grin before he walks out of the bathroom, leaving me there flabbergasted. He is a sex God.

I freshen up in the bathroom and put his clothes back on. I’m combing my hair when he knocks on the door.

“Indie, Jason’s calling you and you have three missed calls from him.” He announces. “Might be important.”

I open the door and take my phone from him.

“J”

“Hi, Indie” He’s crying hard.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay, Jason?”

“It’s David. He… I didn’t know who to call.”

“What happened, J? What did he do?”

If he landed a finger on him, I’m killing him with my bare hands.

“He… We were in the car and we were fighting because… Well I told him some of the things you usually tell me and… He got so mad, Indie… And he stopped the car and told me to get out…” He sobs. “In the middle of nowhere, Indie, and I don’t… There’s no Uber service here. I didn’t know who to call.” He repeats.

“I’ll get you, J.” I take a deep breath. I’m furious. “Send me your location. It’s okay, I’ll be there.”

I hang up the phone and walk past Harry and towards his bed.

“Where are my clothes?” I ask him.

He points at his chest of drawers in front of me and I see my clothes folded on top of it. I put my clothes on in no time and he just stares at me. I’m beyond mad. I want to find David and fucking kill him but what I need to do is pick up my friend who he’s abandoned like a dog. I take deep breaths.

“What happened, Indie?”

“Jason’s boyfriend dumped him in the middle of the highway.” I tell him. “Can you believe that? They were fighting and he just stopped the car and fucking told him to get out!”

“For fuck’s sake.” He says.

“Yeah and I need to pick him up because there’s no way he makes it out of there.”

“Baby, do you think you’re okay to drive?”

Driving. My throat fails on me. I don’t drive. I haven’t even thought about that when I told Jason I’ll go get him. I can’t do it. But he knows this. He knows I don’t drive and he still called me. My mind goes wild.

“Do you want me to drive you?”

I shake my head. Jason would kill me if I were to go on his rescue with Harry.

“I gotta go.”

I make sure I have my phone and my keys and run out of his house.

“Be careful!” I hear him call after me.

I run down the stairs like a mad woman and take the stair landings as the time to look for her number on my phone. She’ll help me with this. She’d help me with anything.

“Hi!”

“Coco, I need your help.”

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