we do not talk nearly enough about how cunty Penelope looks in the fisher king episodes. like, the crimped hair with the red-orange streak that perfectly matches her lipstick?? the funky earrings that have guns dangling from them????? the rhinestoned peace symbol shirt??? what an absolute diva, serving looks while under extreme duress. CUNTY. iconic.
ummm this became way too long for a headcanon post but here goes.
also if you’re still in the mood for kitten themed pitt fics can i rec this fic by @itsallyuriagegap
baran grew up with pets, especially cats, and as a kid thought animals were sometimes easier to connect with than people. they’d lay on her chest when she was sick or she would hold them tightly to her chest after bad days at school just to know she was loved and understood by little animals without having to explain herself to them, that something was dependent on her love as well.
years later, baran got a fluffy little pomeranian puppy after her divorce from her husband. she thought it would help her son cope, and emotions were running high and it was maybe the least consequential impulsive decision she could’ve made at the time. the dog quickly became a cherished member of the family, and she bought all sorts of toys, food, beds, anything and everything to spoil it. she paid for it to be frequently groomed, and hired one of her teenage nieces to let it out and walk it on days she worked. it was a system that worked efficiently.
then you came into the picture. you with your foster kittens that were always coming and going, that you allowed baran to come home and meet after your third date when she told you about the pets she grew up with and the pomeranian she had added to the family.
as soon as she walked in, she was taken with them. she crouched down next to one, a shy calico you’d been struggling to bond with, and right off the bat it came up to her and let her scoop it up in her arms. it purred loud enough that you could hear it from across the room, and even though it gave you a rather threatening look when you came over to marvel at how fast the two were bonding, it was at peace in baran’s arms.
“she always tries to bite the shit out of me when I pick her up,” you confessed.
baran shook her head. “oh, I don’t believe that. she’s just a sweet little thing.”
the cat looked at you then and seemed to say, ‘yeah, bitch. I’m a sweet little thing.’
from then on, baran always asked about the kittens when you met up. she would ask for pictures and then tell you she showed them to her son, and that he had been pestering her about getting a kitten because of it. you told her she could bring him over to your place sometime to play with them, that they would like the company and that it would give them the chance to get accustomed to the way kids play before they went to their forever homes.
baran brought her son, kaveh, over to your place one day to see the kittens. she reminded him to be gentle with them even though he already knew and remembered how to care for baby animals from when they got the pomeranian puppy, even though that was a while ago now. she sat down next to him inside the little play pen you placed the kittens in and she watched him gasp and smile when they would come curl up in his lap.
“I think he likes you,” she murmured when a fluffy black kitten came over and made itself right at home, rolling over in his lap and batting at a feather toy kaveh held in his little hand.
kaveh nodded, smiling at his mom in agreement before turning and looking up at you. “does he have a name?”
you told him the name you’d been calling the kitten by, and then added that once the kitten was adopted, its new family would have the freedom of naming it whatever they wanted.
“that’s sad,” he frowned. “what if he likes the name he has now?”
the little black kitten apparently did a number on the family, because that same night you got a text from baran at nearly midnight asking you about what the adoption process was like for your kittens. she asked what they would need, who she would need to contact, what the timeline would be. she inquired about the process extensively, to the point that it was one in the morning by the time she finally told you she was going to bed and that she would call you the next morning to continue the conversation.
by the end of the call the next morning, you knew who that little black kitten would be going home with. and once it was ready to be put up for adoption you gave a referral to the agency you worked with and almost immediately the deals were made, the papers were signed, and you were helping load bags of kitten food and litter into baran’s car.
she made it a surprise for kaveh. she picked him up from a day at her sister’s and brought him home to find you waiting with the little black kitten. he started crying and then baran cried because he was crying and the kitten was confused and you were there like 👍 .
the pomeranian did not approve of the kitten at first. he ran and hid whenever it came near him and he avoided baran and kaveh because he felt SO betrayed. but he was lying in his bed one morning and the kitten came and snuggled up into his long (and perfectly groomed) fur anddddd just like that they became friends. partners in crime even.
while baran originally got the cat because kaveh wanted it, she bonded with it the most. she let it curl up in her lap on the couch and would give you a very disappointed look whenever you sat down and accidentally woke it up. sometimes you felt like she loved the cat more than she loved you, but you allowed it. the cat was cute.
the whole thing sparked the progression of your relationship, too. you wouldn’t vouch for just anyone regarding the adoption of the kittens you fostered, but as time passed and you became closer to baran you learned of her gentleness, her empathy, the care she gave to everyone and everything around her. and after the adoption you would come check on the cat, which was really just an excuse to see her, and she would invite you to stay for dinner and you would always agree. you had your first kiss on the back patio, the kitten snuggled between you on the wicker sofa. eventually you moved in, and your little family was complete.
sometimes the cat reminded baran of her childhood pets, with the way it would lie on her chest when she was sick and would allow her to hold it close to her after bad days at work. it reminded her that she lived in a household full of people (and pets) that she didn’t have to explain herself to in order to be loved, and that they would always be waiting to comfort her after long days and rough shifts.
baran al-hashimi x trinity santos x yolanda garcia; w/c: 5.9k
taglist: @sepisbabe @lotties-ashwagandha
This is from Baran’s pov, but Trinity is triggered during sex, and I do show that clearly. No explicit discussion of past sexual abuse. Trinity doesn’t communicate boundaries, so Baran steps over the line by accident.
The silence stretches again. Garcia doesn’t move to leave. Baran isn’t sure whether she has more to say or if she doesn’t want to leave Trinity quite yet. Neither option is appealing to Baran.
“Did you know? About us?”
“I suspected,” Garcia admits, sees the half-mortified look on Baran’s face and continues. “She gets soft around you. Not in her words or her body. But something just relaxes a little. No one else sees it.”
“You do,” Baran says quietly.
“Well, I have practice seeing Trinity.” Again, it stings. Garcia looks away. Baran looks away.
Or, Trinity panics during sex with her girlfriend.
Over an hour from now, Baran will be drinking tea with her girlfriend’s ex-situationship, sick to her stomach as something delicate passes between them.
But right now, Baran is holding one of Trinity’s legs up against her shoulder, a hand gripping her thigh and using the leverage to drive herself deeper into Trinity’s cunt. It’s so frictionless, and the sound of it is so loud, Baran almost wishes she’d picked a bigger strap. They’re both sweating, little beads of it gathering on Trinity’s forehead and the valley between her breasts. One hand is gripping Baran’s wrist on her thigh, grounding, while the other is loose next to her head.
In gradual increments, Trinity has let herself sink into this feeling, let it swallow her until she’s completely incoherent. The noises that leave her now are raw and quiet, her skin flushed, hot, open. Baran’s curls stick to her temple, and the harness is rubbing her clit with every thrust, and she’s halfway to an orgasm herself when her hip starts cramping from the way she’s leaning slightly backwards. Trinity’s inordinately flexible, but her leg can only comfortably lift so high for so long.
“Ah, fuck, fuck,” Baran whispers, slowing. Gently, she lowers Trinity’s leg and presses hard fingers into her muscle. Trinity whines, rolling her hips into the air, and Baran can see the slick between her legs, smeared on her thighs and dampening the sheets below. “Baby,” she sighs, unwilling to leave Trinity like this for long. Entirely, achingly incapable of it.
She’s in a headspace Baran rarely sees her in, so blindly submissive, so deeply trusting, so beautifully gone. If Baran knew better, this should have made her tread carefully, but Baran did not know better and wouldn’t for almost half an hour.
First time writing Yolanda and garsanshimi! This can definitely stand alone as a one shot, but I might make it into a multi-chap if there’s interest. Sort of like a garsanshimi origin story.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Est-ce un couloir d'école ? Un centre d'examen ? Un couloir desafecté mais toujours nettoyé ? La plante verte est-elle en plastique ? Tu étais venu là pour régulariser une situation administrative. On t'as dit 2e couloir à gauche, ou peut-être 3e ? La plupart des portes sont fermées à clef. Les écritaux, quand il y en a, indique des secrétariats d'acronymes inconnus. Le plan d'évacuation pompier est délavé par le temps et le soleil. On t'as juste indiqué "d'aller voir Sylvie pour ça", tu ne connais pas son nom de famille. Il y a des escaliers à la peinture douteuse. T'espère être au moins dans le bon bâtiment.
kianamaiart
izzy806
andulkaphoto
annaxmalina
baratheonpilled
discoholicmusic
