#before posting

[buckygrayson]

charlie cox as matt murdock/daredevil daredevil: born again : ̗̀➛ 2.01 | "the northern star"

[foodsies4me]

yesss a make me write!!! I love love love these❤️❤️❤️

📨

pleaseeee

PS: I just found out there's an AWG inverse coming??!!!! This is so awesomeeee

There's a new AWG inverse coming, yes! There are quite a few fics I'm working on that are close to or at least halfway to completion and am hoping to start posting at some point and that one is one of them. (And if people ever wonder why my updates are so slow/infrequent, it's because of the ridiculous amount of wips I have that are *all* demanding I work on them.)

Anyway, Bridges snippet! This reads pretty rough and will need to be edited, but words are words and progress is progress.

“Do you want to read a book?” Alec tries instead. He reaches over to his bookcase, taking the book Magnus gave him what feels like an eternity ago. “My kids they...they like having a bedtime story when they're scared.” Kaylie is still watching him suspiciously. Terrified. And yet somehow she nods.Her claw pinches twice in a silent yes, scared eyes looking at one of the warlocks on the picture book. The one that looks just like her. “Alec can you read it?” Ali asks, surprising him. “Magnus always exaggerates the voices too much.” Magnus gives him an affronted look. “Slander?” He cries, upping the theatrics for Kaylie's sake, “In my loft? See if I'll get you a fire-made scrying orb for your birthday, young man.” Ali huffs, unafraid. “I'll just get Alec to get me one. Right Alec?” Alec has no idea what the difference between a fire-made scrying orb or any other kind of scrying orb is. However, getting one up on Magnus is enough for him to agree. “Sure.”

[raywhite28]

so... samdoesarts ported this on his insta recently and you know i had to redraw it...

...as artham and gammon.......

........to make it gay

[afterlifeincorporated]

Queck

Queck lived on a planet all by himself. It wasn't a nasty planet or a punishment planet. It was just a planet with nobody else on it.

He worked and lived in the same sector of the planet in which he'd always lived: near the beach. He didn't live on the beach, of course. The sand was too much for everyday walking, but he lived where the palm trees drew a firm boundary between sand and things green.

His home was the smallish kind of hut that had been made and placed just inside the trees many years before and that he had been improving ever since. It had started as a one-room hut but had morphed into something resembling a two-story chateau. It had a kitchen, a bedroom, two workrooms, and a balcony, not to mention a washroom and a room Queck was in the middle of making and whose purpose Queck had not yet decided. Secretly he hoped it would turn into the kind of shared space that meant companionship.

Queck was desperate for companionship.

Queck spent his days working. He liked to be busy. Busy meant he could catch fish and clean them. Busy meant he could make nets. Busy meant he could climb trees for their fruit or chop them down for their wood Busy meant he could supply the hut with everything it needed and a few things it did not.

The day the woman washed up on the beach like a piece of particularly upset seaweed that clung to the ocean sand, Queck was almost too busy to notice. He had had to clean out his entire hut due to an unexpected crab infestation and he was still sorting out which part of the hut went where to be bothered with trifles such as a woman alternating between watching the ocean and watching him.She looked like she belonged to the sea. She had seaweed in her hair and driftwood clinging to her belt. If Queck had looked closer he'd have seen the colors of an ocean storm in her eyes.

Her name was Ashmita and it left a faint taste of sunshine when he repeated it. Ashmita.

He ignored the taste and showed her to the guest hut he'd built for such purposes as this. It was a nice little addition to his first hut and he'd filled it with all the things he liked: shells, feathers, nets he'd made himself, and books.

He left the woman there to get settled and went back to reorganizing his hut.

The next day, miracle of miracles, the woman was still there. She'd changed her clothes, somehow, but she still had seaweed in her hair, driftwood on her belt, and ocean storm in her eyes.

It seemed to Queck too good to be true, so he waited. Surely she would want to return home. It was only just a matter of time.

But she was there the next day too, and had replaced the seaweed in her hair.

During the days he worked, and she… also worked? She began to fill the guest hut with light (as far as Queck could tell) and she began a garden. (Why was she making a garden?) In the evenings they settled around a fire Queck made and talked.

She was bright, almost brighter than the fire, and just as warm.Queck ignored the warmth and focused on the talking. She had interesting things to say about life outside his planet and the spaceship that had dumped her in the ocean. And when he spoke, she listened. They talked of far away places and life on his planet. They talked about stones and albatross feathers. They talked of stories and books. They talked of families, his and hers, and how they grew up.

It was important to Queck that they could spend all day talking. It was important to Queck that they could spend multiple days talking.

The day Ashmita mentioned she'd be leaving, Queck had difficulty thinking. He went about his work much slower than usual and considered letting some crabs loose in his hut just so he'd have something extra mind-consuming to do.

Apparently, Ashmita had been building a raft.

Apparently Ashmita needed things that weren't on his planet.

The day before she left she hugged him long and tight and promised she'd be back.

And then she left.

The first day after she was gone he went about his work like normal. The second day he did the same.

The third day he tallied the amount of time he had spent watching the ocean instead of working since she'd been gone and resolved to work harder. (|||| |||| |||| |||| |||| |||| |||| |||| |||| |||| |||| |||| ||)

By the fourth day he'd settled into a routine and didn't check the ocean once. (|||| |||| |||)

The fifth day he checked the guest hut to make sure he hadn't put anything there that would have scared her off. It still had his shells, nets, feathers, and books (which she'd rearranged), but it wasn't as light as when she'd been there. (|||| |||)

By the sixth day he'd figured out what he'd done wrong. (|||| |||| |||| |)

On the seventh day he came up with a solution. (|||| ||||)

Day eight he accidentally let the crabs back into his hut. (|)

Day nine he contemplated adding in a walkway to the guesthouse from the beach. (|||| |||| ||)

The tenth day he made sure both his hut and the guest hut were spotless. (|||)

He poked around her garden on the eleventh day and wondered what she'd been trying to grow. Most of it was still alive. (|||| |||| |||| |||)

The twelfth day he focused entirely on his work and did not light a fire. He was not cold. (|||| |||| ||||)

And so it went. He worked because he had to wanted to and he didn't watch the ocean.

(|||| |||| |||| ||) (||||) (|||) (|||| ||||) (|||| |||| |) (|||| ||||) (|||| |||| ||||) (|||| |||| |||| |||| |) (|||| |||) (|||| ||) (|||| |) (|||| |||| ||) (|||| |||| |||| ||) (||||) (|||) (||) (|||| |||| |||| ||||)

A month after she'd left he picked up a new hobby. He began teaching himself how to build sandcastles. He started small, by making a castle with one turret. Then he cleaned up and went back inside.

A few moments later there was a knock on his hut door. He raced to open it and light spilled in.

There she was, seaweed in her hair, driftwood in her belt, eyes the color of ocean. He said her name and tasted sunshine.

He didn't remember deciding to hug her, but she hugged him back, long and warm, and said how much she missed him. Behind her, on the beach, on her raft was a large collection of baskets. Each was filled with things from far away: shells, tools, and books. Lots and lots of books.

“I'm sorry I didn't ask you to stay,” he said while they were still hugging. “Will you stay?”

She laughed into his shoulder.

Of course she would stay. She would stay forever.

[lilyrizzy]

for the kink meme thing: spitting

Daniel kisses down the dip of Max's spine. Open-mouthed, hungry for him. In the low light of their bedroom, he can see the shine, the way he's getting Max wetter.

Not as wet as his hole, which Daniel has just left a load in.

"Daniel," Max whines, rocking his hips backwards. Greedy, like he didn't just come too. Daniel has to pinch one of his cheeks- a reminder to be patient- before parting them.

"Fuck baby," he groans at just the sight of him.

Red and puffy, there's thick white stickiness clinging to him, despite the way he hasn't closed up all the way. Dipping down, Daniel licks it up, keeping it pooled in his mouth. It only takes nudging Max's hip once before he rolls over.

Eyes blown and cheeks pink, he's the prettiest thing Daniel has ever seen. He wants to mark him, to ruin him, to-

Daniel grips his jaw, squeezing a little until Max gets it. Opening up, he sticks his tongue out.

Daniel spits the come onto it. Max whines, eyes slipping shut.

"Good boy," Daniel says, thumb tracing over the freckle on Max's top lip, before tapping his chin. Silently asking him to close his mouth. "Now, swallow."

[tennessoui]

MAFIA AU OBIKIN MENTIONED! and a coma obi wan story???

pretty bird obiwan and anakin are never far from my mind 🙏🙏

and coma obi-wan story is a quick and dirty summary of my big bang story 🎉 I’m chipping away at it still (daily) but I can talk about it now (vaguely and without much detail) 🎉

[dedkake]

it could’ve started like this: a mcshep get-together per episode

28/100: conversion | almost normal, t, .9k

“Sorry,” Sheppard says, holding his hands up—the right one visibly blue—before stuffing them into his pockets. “I—uh—look,” he pauses to lick his lips. “The docs just gave me some more of the inhibitor but I’m not—”

“It’s fine,” Rodney says. He gets it now, what Teyla and Ronon were saying about how Sheppard’s only mostly normal.

read it on ao3 | entire series & notes