The first time was when he woke up, the sun streaming in through a crack between the curtains, Derek’s breathing soft and even next to him.
This can’t be real, Stiles thought. This life, this happiness, it can’t be real.
He started panicking. Derek woke up and pulled Stiles against his chest. Together they counted, first Stiles’ fingers, then Derek’s. Derek smiled and shook his head when Stiles told him it was because he couldn’t believe how happy he was.
Sometimes he still needs that reassurance, that after all the shit they’ve gone through, after all the shit he’s done, he gets to be happy. And over time, it even becomes a small gesture, for both him and Derek, to show the other how happy they are. So he counts his fingers when he slides under the covers next to Derek, counts them when they’re watching television, counts them any time he realizes he’s truly, ridiculously happy.
He’s sitting at the kitchen counter, willing the coffee machine to go faster, at seven am on a Sunday morning. It would be terrible if not for Derek’s humming drifting through the house as he makes the bed, and the pitter-patter of small feet racing towards the kitchen.
Lily climbs into his lap, and he leans back to accommodate her.
‘Are we counting?’ she asks, pointing at his hands, lying palms down on the kitchen counter.
‘You want to count together?’ he asks.
Lily nods and bends over his left hand. She press her little pointer finger against his pinkie and says, ‘One.’
When they get to ten, she turns to him with a brilliant smile, presses a kiss against his cheek, and slides off his lap.
‘Love you, daddy!’ she yells, disappearing into the hallway. You’d think it was a small elephant and not a five year-old pounding up the stairs.
‘Love you, too!’ he shouts after her.
The coffee is finally done and he pours himself and Derek cup. As he sets out breakfast, he privately counts his fingers again, a smile on his face.
Let’s celebrate our beloved Flash heroine before the show returns from hiatus with Iris West Week!
From April 17th to April 24th, we will celebrate all things Iris West just in time for “The Once and Future Flash” on Tuesday, April 25th.
For each day, you may gif or draw your submission, or else write a fic or headcanon that falls under the theme. Use the #IrisWestWeek in the first five tags of all your posts so that we can find them in the same place. The themes of each day will be as follows:
Day One - Monday, April 17th Iris + the Wests (your favorite West family dynamic or scene)
Day Two - Tuesday, April 18th Iris + Barry (doesn’t have to be romantic, but he’s her most important onscreen dynamic)
Day Three - Wednesday, April 19th Iris + the rest (favorite Iris dynamic from STAR Labs, CCPN, or one you dreamed up)
Day Four - Thursday, April 20th Iris + journalism (your favorite moment of Iris as a reporter, or being otherwise badass)
Day Five - Friday, April 21st Iris + fashion& style (favorite outfits and hairstyles, or some you’d like to see her in)
Day Six - Saturday, April 22nd Iris + parallels (flash loves echoing moments, what are some you love?)
Day Seven - Sunday, April 23rd Iris + storyline or au (which has been your favorite? or which would you like to see for her?)
Day Eight - Monday, April 24th Iris + freedom (FREE DAY! Do what you like and share it with the rest of us!)
1. it’s apparently wet-hopped beer season, and good gravy, I’m not sure how I’m going to get up on that wagon I keep thinking about because this is my dank, juicy jam. I’d like to submit into evidence: my belly. Columbus Brewing Co. Yakima Fresh is delicioso.
2. the whole Larry Flint $10M for information leading to the impeachment of the universal shit stain thing? Pretty sure we can all agree that this right here so perfectly illustrates just exactly how utterly and completely fucked we are as a nation, a society, and a culture.
3. dating in midlife continues to mystify, enlighten, and baffle me. At the moment I’m leaning towards embracing the many lovers’ lifestyle because ain’t no such thing as a good match. I think I’d be happy with a 65/35 split for things work well and nails on a chalkboard. I mean… is that too much? Greedy ratio?
4. the wind though. It’s making that incredible pine tree in my north side yard groan, and I can hear it low moaning through the attic eaves.
5. Speaking of… I need to start thinking about how to finish off that attic… turn it into two bedrooms and a full bath to move me and Lila up and make room for my mom to have the entire second floor. I can’t recall if I’ve talked about this yet, but the reverse mortgage she and my stepfather did has a bunch of bullshit admin issues that even a good lawyer is having a hard time untangling and Well’s Fargo dumped it and she might be getting foreclosed on with zero equity - and two years before retirement. Very possibly any day now. I’m just not sure she’d move to Ohio.
6. the Starlings are super active again, every morning around 7:30 and every evening right around now - 5:30 - filling the neighborhood trees on their trip from and back to the roost.
7. worried about so many people in so many places facing so many crises. So, I’m going to drink wet-hopped beer and spackle my face with homemade Chinese stuffed pancakes filled with a mix of beef, pork, bok choy, cabbage, scallions, ginger, garlic, soy, and rice vinegar.
Wow I can’t believe it’s taken me so long to do this!!! My friends know me as the queen of daddy kink (and h/c, which will probably be a component in a lot of these fics), so here are a few recs for you guys to enjoy before the new movie comes out <3
Any comments I add will be in italics below the author’s summary.
In which Eggsy really needs a daddy to take care of him, but he would never, ever admit it… until he does.
So this is it. My #1, all time favourite hartwin daddy fic. It’s the most beautiful h/c I’ve ever read, interwoven with an amazing backstory and character development about why Eggsy needs Harry to be his daddy. So beautiful I cry every time. This is a sequel to the author’s famous fic Breathless, which I highly recommend, but can be read as a stand-alone.
Eggsy might be largely uneducated, but he’s not actually stupid. He knows that most people think he’s nothing more than a glorified whore, but the fact is that Eggsy is currently on vacation in Cape Verde, while most of his critics have to deal with the shitty November weather in England. This is not the life Eggsy had in any way imagined or planned, but if an attractive older gentleman wants to take him on expensive vacations and buy him nice things, he’s certainly not going to complain.
Harry grudgingly gives into Eggsy’s near constant begging and lets Eggsy kneel under his desk. He ends up wondering why he needed so much convincing to do it in the first place. Eggsy is a praise junkie and enjoys being Harry’s toy during the day.
Harry’s always been fond of boys with more than a touch of sass. Eggsy’s always had a thing for the daddies. When their paths cross in the middle of an international arms deal, it seems like the perfect bit of quid pro quo - Harry lets Eggsy off the hook for his involvement and Eggsy lets Harry hit it seven ways from Sunday. Except come morning, neither one is going to want to let go - and so begins a very, very raunchy tale of the mouthiest bottom and the dirtiest daddy in all of Her Majesty’s Kingdom.
(otherwise known as the sugar daddy, kink-laden, giant trash pile of filthy goodness that Fae just couldn’t resist)
WARNING this fic is discontinued, but still really amazing and worth a read!!
It’s been a year since Eggsy became a Kingsman agent and saved the world for the first time. He loves his new life and he loves partnering with Harry. But sometimes Eggsy needs more than Harry is willing to give. Sometimes he needs things he left behind in the gutter where Harry found him. And sometimes, he needs it so bad he doesn’t quite care who or where it comes from. It’s never enough though…until the one night when it is.
(or, the rentboy, daddy kink, so much UST it is physically painful smutfic no one asked for)
It doesn’t slip out on purpose. He’s three sheets to the wind, celebrating his twenty-fourth birthday after returning from a recon mission in Sri Lanka, which means he’s jet lagged, too, and anything he says should be taken with a grain of salt. His mum’s on the other side of the room talking to Roxy for God’s sake. If he’d meant to say it, he would have waited for a more appropriate moment.
Though, he’s not sure there will ever be an appropriate moment for accidentally calling Harry daddy.
YAAASSSS. Nothing better than accidentally calling someone daddy.
Eggsy hasn’t been coping well with Harry’s death … but it’s even worse when he finds out Harry is miraculously still alive. A forced confrontation and an accidental admission might just fix everything though.
Literally the first fic I ever read in the Kingsman fandom, and obviously it convinced me to stay ;)
So anyway those are just a few of my favourites, hope you enjoy! And as always hit me up if you want recs for a particular kink and I’ll see what I can do <3
whatthefuckwhattheFUck ur tags on the hannibal gif set destrOYED me I'm at the store either leave me alone or write the thing (sorry for yelling I love ur blog)
I’m happy you like my tags (linked here) and I have written the thing~
Will does not bring it up. Hannibal, mercifully, has not once tried to broach the subject though Will can see he wants to. If he did, Will would cancel every appointment, quit his job, and really commit to the hermit lifestyle he is practically living, too embarrassed to go on, but Hannibal doesn’t so Will gets to enjoy this aspect to their not quite doctor-patient and not quite whatever-they-are relationship.
They don’t talk about it and that’s good.
It’s Sunday, nearly seven in the morning. Will still has dried mud on his shoes from the crime scene yesterday. He hasn’t slept and he can hear Jack’s voice in his ear, asking for more and only getting from Will a few grunts and a few jumbled sentences that must have made a passable analysis of their killer for Jack to willingly send him back home.
Hannibal looks less surprised than he should with Will–red faced, sweating, dressed in the day before yesterday’s clothes, and unwilling to look him in the eye long enough to see the red in his irides–showing up at his door without calling.
4) First Night Together- Or, Dread and The Starfish
She sleeps spread-eagled, as if a great hand had dropped her from above.
Sherlock Holmes muses on this as he stares at Molly’s silhouette in the darkness. Just beyond her, he can see her alarm clock, the electric green numbers counting down the hours until Mycroft and his boys arrive and he is spirited away to begin his work dismantling Moriarty’s network.
The thought fills him with a restless sort of energy that teeters on the brink of dread.
With a huff Molly frowns and restlessly changes position, flinging herself facedown onto her bed, retaining her starfish position while managing to waggle her bottom in what Sherlock refuses to acknowledge is an entirely adorable manner. She frowns in her sleep and murmurs his name worriedly and despite himself, Holmes smiles. Leans over and kisses her forehead.
Her snores are soft and her skin is pale and in that moment- just that moment- he finds his dread abates.
1. My AC is running almost continuously on this ridiculous 90 degree late September day. The fifth such hot day in a string of a 10-day heatwave. I hung my sheets out on the line and the bright white in the sun blinded me for a bit. That was 20 minutes ago and they’re already dry. #thisisnotnormal
2. My house smells amazing - my Instant Pot is just pressuring down now and is full of homemade Chicken-Andouille Gumbo. I’m a little worried about the heat level of the hot pepper I added because the air became rather choke-inducing as the pot was coming up to pressure. I made extra rice to compensate.
3. I need a few more days of weekend to prep for the coming two weeks, which entail working late in order to meet an Oct. 1 deadline, having Lila at home and needing to take her to find a homecoming dress, shoes, and accessories, and then traveling to Utah for work the week of the 2nd. Color me overwhelmed, but at least my sheets will smell amazing. Unless they catch fire out there in the side yard. Such a turn of events would not surprise me in the least.
4. The news continues to chip away at my faith in anything. I’ve had to unplug from it quite a lot in order to maintain any level of effective functioning in my life and work and I’m not unaware that my privilege provides me that option. I really don’t know what else to do at this point.
5. A dozen bright rainbow prism bursts are dancing all over my living room walls right now as I sit here in the cool dark with most of the shades lowered. I’ve been snipping beans from the market for a garlicky bean and carrot salad to go with the Gumbo and not allowing myself to turn on the first episode of Transparent S04 because I absolutely have to do a few hours of client work this afternoon and if I watch one I’m watching the whole damn season. I have no self-control.
6. Anybody else’s eyes itchy and watery and feeling almost as if it’s impetigo but it’s not? Allergies this year are so much worse than anything I’ve ever experienced and it’s a bitch not being able to unzip and step out of this hyper-sensitive space suit until whatever plant jizz that’s free-floating finally falls to the ground and dies. #fucktrump
7. Honestly, though. Fuck this guy. He’s the worst human on the planet right now. I hope he dies in a fire caused by his own soul combusting.
“so I like to think that every Sunday when Ronan goes to church, he thinks about stopping by to see adam but never does because maybe sundays are the only days the garage is closed and he can get some sleep for once, and then one day as the organist is playing in mass he realizes that adam must be able to hear everything, there’s no way he could sleep through it. So one day he dreams some noiseless headphones and leaves them outside adam’s door, and well-rested adam starts smiling more after that”
Thank you so much for submitting i looveeed this idea, you’re so creative!!
This is 1,714 words, pre relationship
He was so close.
Just for fun, Ronan tried to calculate the distance in feet between him and Adam during mass. The distance in yards, inches, meters.
Shuffling brought him out of his daydreams. The service was over, people were getting up to leave. A certain distinct part of Ronan became thrilled.
Maybe he could do it today. Maybe he’d casually stop by Adam’s scrappy appartement on this bright Sunday, he was in the area anyway, right?
As Ronan walked out of the old church building, he looked up to where he knew Adam lived and sighed. He wouldn’t go to Adams, he never would on a Sunday morning- the only day Boyd’s was closed and Adam could even attempt to sleep in. Adam needed the rest.
With a deep breath and a considerable amount of restraint, Ronan walked by the door of Saint Agnes’, saying a simple prayer to whoever would listen on behalf of Adam’s well-being.
Thinking about seeing Adam tomorrow made Ronan excited about the start of the school week. The fact that someone could do that to him was more than uncomfortable but also more than thrilling. Just twelve hours more.
In deliberate nonchalance the next morning, Ronan flopped down into the chair beside Adam’s, hardly sparing a glance his was. Hardly holding himself back from looking more.
Adam’s eyes were sunken it and glazed, not in the classroom or aware. Disheveled hair and sustained blinks were all the clues Ronan needed.
“Sleep much Parrish?” He pried with carefully disguised concern.
“Hm?” Adam looked to Ronan for the first time that morning, revealing the full vacancy of his expression.
Ronan found himself struck with an unfounded feeling of anger. Of course a few hours extra of sleep wouldn’t really change much. He just wanted better for Adam. How dare sleep in Sundays not help this boy more?
Ronan had been staring and Adam hadn’t been awake enough to realize, when Gansey arrived in class wearing some horrible new boat shoes that disgustingly matched his Aglionby uniform.
Ronan cracked a joke that Adam didn’t catch and Gansey reprimanded Ronan for his lack of preparation for class. Ronan didn’t care. He had one reason for coming to school this morning, and that reason was currently a sleepy dead man walking.
A bell rung, class began and Ronan couldn’t stop think about Adam. Wondering about the dark rings under his eyes and how to change their existence. Why didn’t thoes few extra hours of sleep make any difference for Adam? Ronan avoided him after church just so he could catch up on sleep-
Church. Maybe that was it. Of course. It had to be. The church’s organ was scarcely well played, never well receive and always incredibly loud. And at seven thirty every Sunday morning, it began blaring some underrehearsed hymnal right below Adam’s room.
No wonder the extra hours asleep did nothing for Adam- he wasn’t getting them. Ronan couldn’t blame him; who could sleep through those atrocious sounds?
Fuck the organ. Fuck the organ player. But this was good. At least Ronan knew the problem, that meant he could dream away to stop it.
Ronan dreamed without sound.It was disorienting to be cut off from the senses within his own head.
He saw Adam. They were, both of them in the forest, but Adam was laying down on that shitty mistress from his apartment. He was tossing around, holding hands to his ears.
Ronan sat in the edge of the bed, next to the restless Dream Adam. Still, Ronan couldn’t hear a thing. Adam sat up and looked st Ronan- his eyes glassy with this dream world. Reaching his hands out, Dream Adam brushed his fingers by Ronan’s ears.
Shivering unwillingly, Ronan watched as Dream Adam pulled solidly black earbuds from Ronan’s ears. Sound came back at once.
“Oh,” Ronan mused, “I get it.”
Ronan took the headphones from Adam, savoring the way their fingers brushed in the exchange.
Following the thin headphone cord to his pocket, Ronan found them connected to a solid black cube, printed with simple white letters, reading:
It was Saturday night before Ronan finally found the guts to bring the noise eliminating gift to Adam. He had to bring them tonight so the church organ wouldn’t wake Adam in the morning.
He pulled up into the gravely parking area of St. Agnes’s, noted the absence of Adam’s shitbox and opted to wait in the hallway outside Adam’s door.
Ronan stretched his legs out strait in front of him, back against a wall of peeling paint. He put the dream buds into his ears and closed his eyes.
Almost, Ronan thought, he could dream like this. This particular brand of silence was like a blanket, protecting whoever experienced it from whatever pain and noise existed outside of it.
Ronan started when he felt a gentle kick to the side of his knee. Ripping the soundless ear buds from his ears, he looked up to see Adam Parrish, messing with the apartment key before unlocking his door.
“Sleep much, Lynch?” He smirked. Adam had the sleeves of his blue coveralls tied around his waist, white tee shirt hugging his chest in a way that forced blush to Ronan’s cheeks. He got up and followed Adam inside, deciding to have some fun.
“Listen to this new song I found Parrish?” Ronan said, meeting Adam at his desk where he already stood looking over the weekend’s homework.
“Ronan I swear, if you’re talking about the Murder Squash song-” Ronan cut Adam off by bringing the headphones to the boy’s ears.
Ronan held his hands over Adams ears, thumbs along his jaw bone. Ronan told himself this action was necessary in order to ensure Adam didn’t rip the buds away, but in actuality, Ronan wished he could hold Adam’s face like that all day.
“I don’t hear anything!” Adam said, a bit too loudly. Ronan hesitantly removed his hands from Adams face in order to dangle the connected ABSOLUTE SILENCE CUBE by Adams face.
Ronan smirked and Adam laughed. This reactions supercharged Ronan’s state of being. His stomach felt light and his eyes felt on fire.
Ronan reached to take the ear buds from Adam, wishing to make some snide comment he hadn’t thought of yet. Ronan was saved the trouble of figuring out some witty remark when Adam grabbed his hand.
It seemed like maybe he would swat it away, but Adam just kept his fingers on Ronan’s palm, thumb on the back of his hand
“I like you better on silent.” Adam joked, adjusting his voice to what he probably thought was a normal volume but just came out low and undeniably sexy. Adam still held Ronan’s hand in his own.
Touch was electric.
Breathing shallow and heart thoroughly wrecked, Ronan stumbled away from Adam in an awkward tornado of too long limbs. Adam caught Ronan by his left arm, took out the ear buds and laughed.
“So, standing? Were you skipping school the day that was covered?” Adam quipped.
“Fuck off Parrish.” Ronan snapped, but he made no move to leave Adam’s grasp. Standing was one thing, standing in the presence of Adam Parrish was another.
They both smirked. Adam headed to the shower leaving Ronan with the soundless headphones and the dimming light in the room.
If he stayed, Ronan knew what would happen. He’d try to kiss Adam, he knew he would. It was just one of those nights where Adam was extra irresistible. The firework touches didn’t help.
Ronan resolved to go home. He left the soundless earbuds on Adam’s pillow and quietly left.
Sunday was torcher. All through mass, Ronan could only hope Adam was getting the extra sleep he needed. What if he didn’t notice Rona had left the headphones, or just disregarded them all together? Adam was used to Ronan’s accidental dream creations, maybe he thought nothing of the ABSOLUTE SILENCE creation.
The urge to stop in at Adam’s was stronger than ever but Ronan tore himself away from the church apartment buildings and prayed for a well rested Adam.
When Ronan entered his first period class the next morning his eyes went strait to Adam as they always did. He looked slightly more at ease and aware of his surroundings. Adam jerked his head in greeting as Ronan walked in, even smiled at him for the seconds before obnoxious classmates began to fill the room.
This time, when Ronan commented on Gansey’s strange style choices, Adam laughed and ignited the electricity in Ronan from that weekend. He felt on top of the world, like he was finally doing something worth any amount of time put into it.
Adam seemed better during class, he smiled more, his notes were more organized. Ronan was sure he was imagining it but it seemed like Adam kept stealing glances his way. Even the possibility made Ronan soar.
After class, Adam held back until Ronan was ready to leave. They walked out of the room together into the already emptied out hallways. Adam stopped before heading out of the building to his next class.
“You’re gonna be late Parrish, the entire faculty with shit their pants if-”
Ronan couldn’t continue, not with Adam’s mouth pressed against his own, Adam’s fingers gripping his uniform tie.
Adam leaned against Ronan with his whole body and Ronan felt he would melt into the wood paneling behind him if he didn’t hold onto something. He gripped Adam around the waist and closed his eyes.
Ronan couldn’t be sure if this was real or not. He needed to remember it forever, he needed to understand what was happening in his brain.
“Adam,” was all he could manage to say.
Adam pressed one more kiss onto Ronan’s mouth.
“For the record,” Adam began simply, “I don’t like you better on silent.”
Ronan laughed even though he didn’t have the breath for it.
“Even when you’re being and asshole.”
Ronan smiled against Adam’s check and kissed him there without thinking before bringing their lips back together.
Really, if all Adam need was a few extra hours of sleep to be interested in this, in him of all people, Ronan figured silent headphones were a small price to pay.