Des is flabbergasted, opening and closing his mouth in an attempt to speak, but words are failing him. He's staring, wide-eyed, at his son, the one and only fruit of his loins, his beautiful (not-quite-so) baby boy, his shining star, whose once luscious black locks have been shorn off into an odd emo punk hairdo. One half of Jack's head is completely bald and dear god, shiny, while his remaining hair has all been combed forward and gelled down so that it shrouds his eye.

Jack is beaming proudly at his horrified father. "Well, Dad, what do you think?"

The most that Des can manage in answer is to wildly flail his arms and sputter incoherently.
(borrowed from [livejournal.com profile] spongetastic with love :D)

Pick your packet of kisses and I will write drabbles involving our muses kissing.

The Cute Packet
- Kiss on the forehead.
- Kiss on the nose
- Kiss on the cheek
- Kiss on the lips

The Sexy Packet
- Kiss on the back
- Kiss on the neck
- Kiss on the shoulder
- French kiss

List of muses participating in this )
notaballad: (Smiling)
Father. It was a word that Desmond thought would never be applied to him, in any sense, but here he is, standing beside his son's bed, watching the three year old sleep. It's not as creepy as it sounds; he's seated on the edge of the foot of the bed. He'd thought he'd heard a noise in Jack's room, a cranky whine or a terrified whimper, but when he'd come into the room, Jack had been peacefully sleeping, the covers kicked away.

Desmond had smiled softly and tucked his little boy back in, placing a tender kiss on his forehead. Jack had shifted a little in his sleep, smacking his lips together, but hadn't awoken. That had gotten another chuckle out of Desmond; it looked like his son was going to be just as heavy a sleeper as him. Desmond recalls his mother and brother both telling him that he could sleep through a bomb going off right next to him.

He'd taken a seat on the bed, just marveling at Jack, at how much he resembles Desmond. He'd expected the novelty to wear off by now, but he has to admit, he loves the little kid. He loves watching Jack discover things, he loves seeing that little face light up with wonder. He also loves spoiling him, probably a bit too much, if Desmond is honest with himself.

He knows there's more to being a father than just buying his kid presents and playing with him. There have been a few times that he's had to scold Jack for doing something that he shouldn't, and he's sure there are going to be rough patches when Jack gets older. He only hopes that he can be a good dad to Jack.

"I love you, kiddo," he whispers as he stands up and gives Jack another forehead kiss before slipping out of the room and heading back to his own.

Being a father isn't something that Desmond ever expected he'd want out of life, but now he's glad he's getting the opportunity.
Continued from this

Des was really glad that Peter seemed to be responding well to the kissing. He'd been afraid the looking alike would be an issue. It didn't bother him in the slightest because he'd been affectionately kissing his twin brother Jude for years. Making the leap to something more with a lookalike wasn't too far of a stretch.

He kept the kiss light and casual at first, then slowly deepened it, nibbling at Peter's lip. His free hand snaked down the other man's back, easily untucking his shirt from his pants so he could slide his hand under the material, fingers stroking the small of Peter's back.
notaballad: (Smiling)

Name: Desmond Molloy
Character You're Auditioning For: Snoopy, but he'd settle for being Schroeder's understudy if Jude gets the role
Audition Song: Snoopy's song
Cold Reading or Monologue: The Red Baron
Audition: Desmond had no clue how he'd gotten roped into auditioning for this community play... )
notaballad: (Pressing lips together)
Quebec knew that the time had come. With Topher upset and the threat of remote wipes being used on anyone at any time, the Doll was certain that there was no better time for his lover and him to escape. Echo had survived on the outside for three whole months, and while it was true that she was very special, Quebec liked to think that Kilo and he were pretty special too.

One might even have made the argument that they were more special than Echo, since they both remembered bits and pieces of their former lives. Quebec, for example, knew that Desmond could phase. Quebec knew this to mean that he could pass through inanimate objects as if they weren't even there, and late at night, after everyone went to sleep, he would practice in his pod. It wasn't easy at first; he wasn't sure how to call forth the power and it took a bit to learn its trigger, but after weeks (months?) of practice, he was able to easily slip through the heavy glass plate sealing his bed off from the rest of the world.

Tonight was the night, and he could've sworn that he felt the very air around him thrumming. He gave Kilo a secretive wink as they went to bed, and then he waited. Waited for the Dollhouse to slip into a quiet state of rest. It was a little bit eerie how still the Dollhouse became at night, and Quebec could hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears. He was certain that someone could hear it and would come running to investigate. He closed his eyes, breathing deeply, calling upon a meditation technique he'd been shown. His heartbeat calmed, and then he sat up, his intangible body easily passing through the glass plate.

Once he'd pulled himself up and out of the pod, he moved over to Kilo's, reaching his hand down into the pod. "Kilo," he whispered. "Take my hand."

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Desmond Molloy

September 2011

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