“Well, I don't see it,” Huaisang had said, and then he'd shoved his hand down the front of his pants right there in front of Nie Mingjue. “I—oh, I have the other thing now,” he said, and he sounded...intrigued. Nie Mingjue had quickly excused himself.

He blacks out, or something, because the next thing Varric knows he’s at his desk with Bran standing over him with a pinched look on his face. “I got a kid.” Bran’s face somehow pinches further. “Like, from a store?” Varric whacks his head against his desk. in which varric's saddled with a kid, and hawke tries not to get too attached

"Tell me about what I need to do," Qin Su says, steeling herself, forcing her anxiety down. She doesn't have a choice, she has to put aside her fears and do this. Jin Guangyao scoops back strands of her hair and twists them deftly into braids. "It can't be too scripted, or he won't believe it. Nie Mingjue values honesty and forthrightness, and despises liars and schemers." Qin Su exhales sharply at the confirmation of what she'd already known, the potential danger that lies ahead. "So I need to seduce him without letting him know I'm seducing him?" [Fix-it AU in which QS finds out the truth of her parentage and plots with JGY to get her a husband. Things Ensue.]

A very specific part of Jin Ling's Yunmeng Jiang heritage makes itself known when he comes of age. His friends help him out.

“I would still like to be kissed,” Wangji says, and his hand is very hot on Lan Xichen’s cheek. Perhaps one of them has a fever, or they both do. He opens his mouth to ask if they should open the window for some cool air. His brother kisses him as if that is what Lan Xichen had intended. He will not be sure, later, whether it was.

Going up Burial Mounds, some worries arise. Can the Wens really work this out?

It happened like this: Jin Ling was a sect leader now, which was, and Jingyi really meant this, fucking hilarious. There were few things funnier, in his honest opinion. Because he was young, and inexperienced, and also — it had to be said — a real shithead, there was apparently some belief amongst his advisors that the best way forward, to promote the picture of a stable, mature sect leader who absolutely did not cry at the drop of a hat, was for Jin Ling to get married. - OR: Jin Ling and Jingyi get engaged. Things spiral from there.

“Are you a cultivator?” “No,” she says, steadily. “This one doesn’t possess the core for it.” She pauses and raises her eyes to his, so boldly he finds it a little startling. “I believe that I can be of use to the Jiang sect in spite of that, and I have brought a gift to prove it. May I show you?” Fully intrigued now, Jiang Cheng nods. The girl unslings the bundle from her back, unties a couple of straps, and unrolls it on the floor in a smooth motion. Jiang Cheng is on his feet before he even consciously realizes it’s happened, and the reaction murmurs out through the hall. There, on a blanket that belongs on the back of a horse, are five Wen cultivator swords, offered to him by a girl who looks like the word “bumpkin” was invented specifically for her. What the fuck. “Where did you get those?” he asks, instead of asking “What the fuck?” out loud, because that would be unbecoming of his status as sect leader. The girl meets his eyes again, lifts her chin, and says simply, “I killed the men who carried them.” Or: Fan Dingxiang cultivates the swole path. Jiang Cheng doesn't know how to handle that.

“I haven’t…” she starts, watches his blue eyes narrowed in concern and it’s distracting, everything’s distracting. “I haven’t had a body in a hundred years,” Zelda manages, and shrugs one shoulder, as if to say what can you do? “I was Hylia, mostly, and a little bit me, but I wasn’t a person. I was the sun and the wind and the water and the dirt and I was in a prison and I was the prison. I feel like I’m blindfolded, now, without that sense of the world, but also everything is so bright and loud and close and I hardly know how I’m managing to speak to you when my skin is feeling wind for the first time in a century. It’s…” she trails off, her words failing her, which is infuriating because she’s a scholar, she’s good at words. “It’s a lot,” she finishes awkwardly, for lack of anything better to say. Or: Learning to be a person again, after the end.

Daylen has no reason to trust this former almost-templar he's gotten stuck with. He's not sure why he finds himself doing it anyway, but while he's figuring that out, what's the harm in the two of them spending more time together? Or: Daylen has trust anger issues, Alistair has abandonment issues, and Zevran and Leliana are happy they're working through all that but would really like them to just kiss already. Barkspawn doesn't care, so long as they're petting her.

Zevran has trust issues, self-worth issues, and general issues. Alistair helps. When he's not making it worse. Or: Giving someone a ring is supposed to be a symbol of deep commitment. A symbol, dammit. Or: Clearly Brosca isn't a Tolkien fan; otherwise, she would know that rings found in questionable cave systems make terrible gifts.

Crumpled at the base of Koi Tower’s long stairs for the second time, Jin Guangyao presses his face into the stone, takes a deep breath despite re-broken ribs, and arranges his features as carefully as he knows how. Then he stands, moving carefully around the pain, and bows deep, arms held straight and true. The walk back up the steps to his father's side is painful enough to wipe the smile from his face; it is not painful enough to prevent him re-taking his place as seneschal, bowing again at the top of the steps. As he straightens, he prioritizes his plans for his father’s demise over all else.

He will never forgive Wang Zhi for being careless enough to get himself killed like this: by a band of common thugs, barefoot and with his hair undone, in Sui Zhou's house, in front of Sui Zhou. But then the thug manhandling Wang Zhi laughs, pulling him up short in the middle of the courtyard. He even shakes him a little. "Look what I found in Baihu Sui's bedroom. It's a boy!" Sui Zhou acquires dangerous knowledge involving the Commander of the Western Depot, Tang Fan breaks new ground for romance novelists, and Wang Zhi is full of surprises.

broke: jedi are cold disconnected space monks woke: jedi are hippie sluts with no sense of modesty who just like to fuck with the wider galaxy

No one knows what the Council is hiding, but the effects ripple throughout the galaxy. Anakin knows he is loved. Former slaves are freed. A long-lost Master and his Padawan are returned to the Temple. No one understands how Obi-Wan Kenobi does these things, but they are grateful for it anyway. A time-travel story from the points of view of everyone but the time travelers.

Ding Rong shakes his head. He opens his mouth and closes it. It would be inappropriate to- “Ask. Whatever you want to know, just ask.” Wang Zhi says, his breath fanning over the vulnerable underside of Ding Rong’s wrist. “How are you-” not dead. Ding Rong chastises himself for being crass. “still alive?” Ding Rong did not ever expect that Wang Zhi is an alpha.

"Really, Xie Lian, you don't even jerk it??" Shi Qingxuan insists. "I mean it's none of my business and you can tell me to fuck off, but holy shit, lady." Xie Lian laughs, feeling her cheeks color, and shrugs again. "I don't know, something about the mechanics of it just never made sense to me," she admits. "And anyway that's time I should be spending studying." -- It comes out that Xie Lian's never had an orgasm. She goes to Hua Cheng for help. • theyre lesbians

Boba attempts to set his father up with someone interesting. It would probably go a lot smoother if that someone wasn't a Jedi. And if there weren't monsters all around the town that were about to make themselves a problem.

In an attempt to find an ancient weapon that will let them fight a Sith Lord on equal ground, Jon seeks out a lost Jedi Temple on a war-torn world. Saving two clone troopers isn't anywhere in the plan, and letting them tag along with him seems like inviting trouble, but Jon does it anyway. It's possible that Knol has a point about his instincts getting him killed one of these days.

When the massacre of the Tusken Raider village is uncovered, Anakin is recalled to Coruscant to face the Council's inquiry into his actions. Agen Kolar takes his place leading the 501st in a treacherous assault on forces trying to conquer Champala, but no one is happy with Anakin's sudden removal, his padawan and Torrent Company least of all. With little support in a campaign that's rapidly spiraling out of control and strange happenings starting to plague the battalion, Agen is in over his head, and Champala's oceans are more than deep enough to drown them all at the first misstep.

“You idiot,” Ye Baiyi chuckles at Long Xiao. “He was already panting for someone to have him like a bitch before you poisoned him. You’re doing us a favor by encouraging these two soup-for-brains to go off into the woods and fuck their feelings out.” Wen Kexing swears at Ye Baiyi, then threatens to pluck his eyebrows bald. Chengling blinks as he takes in the scene with round eyes. Long Xiao smiles, showing off his full set of adult teeth, eerily out of place in a child’s face. Zhou Zishu feels sick to his stomach; he wishes he could be drunk. Wen Kexing gets hit with fuck-or-die sex pollen on the way to Longyuan cabinet. Everything would be fine, except Zhou Zishu’s been keeping an unfortunate secret: the nails in his chest mean he can’t get hard anymore.

During his time rebuilding the Jiang sect and the Lotus Pier from the ground up, Jiang Cheng meets a lot of people. Some of them he keeps. (5+1 Jiang Cheng adopting stray cultivators after the Sunshot Campaign)

I already have the post with Young Justice verse Jason & Damian comic strips where all my fluffy stuff goes, so this is where most of my horny bottom Jason art goes.

That night he lies in bed alone until the moon is high. When the rest of the house is deathly silent, except for the light snores coming from behind every door, he sneaks in slippered feet through the halls and over to the covered kitchens. There’s faint light coming from the smoldering hearth, where the coals are piled to keep them warm for tomorrow’s early start. Someone has curled up by it on a mat, like a scullery maid. But it’s not a maid, it’s a man. A tall long-legged man. His husband. The dubiously immortal master of Changming manor. What the fuck, Xie thinks.

The light overhead isn't from Minion island's overcast sky but instead a steel plated ceiling shining down fluorescence, glass and plastic bottles rattling on shelves against the walls. Everywhere there's monitors and familiar machinery and the distinct tang of antiseptic, sharp beyond the memory sense of blood and snow. For half a second Law looks at it all very blankly and thinks, What The Hell. Is he dreaming. Is he hallucinating. Is he just plain dead. His sight-line completes the rotation of this impossibility to fall upon speckled jeans and a long sweeping coat. And the man standing in front of Law has the blankest expression Law's ever seen. And the man standing in front of Law has Law's father's face. Underneath Law's blood-slicked fingers, Cora-san's pulse shudders. (This is a story where the past and the present collide. Wherein thirteen year old Trafalgar Law and twenty-six year old Rocinante tumble sideways through time-space via the blue desperation of a newly eaten devil fruit, from Minion island to a future distant. Right, unwittingly, onto the submarine deck of a another Law shortly after Doflamingo’s fall.)

Wen Kexing stumbles upon the fact that Han Ying apparently ruins every one of his orgasms - because it would be *disrespectful* otherwise. He's not about to ignore *that*, now is he.

Edgar has wanted to be a member of the Choir since he first learned of its existence, and he finds himself inducted into its ranks in the most unusual of ceremonies.

"Hi, I'm Wei Wuxian. I'm a Career Omega and this is my fourth season on the show. I like spicy food, archery and alphas who are funny. Or maybe I don't, I haven't rolled over for one yet." On-screen, Wei Wuxian winks at the audience laughter. Hot or Knot is the world's most popular reality TV show. Part dating show, part survival show, Hot or Knot is everyone's guilty pleasure - and Wei Wuxian is a fan favourite. - The Love Island/Hunger Games reality dating tv show A/B/O au

It doesn’t occur to him to ask what helping would entail until Mikey gives him a sideways look. “Don’t think it’s the kind of help you should ask your brother for,” he says. “But thanks.” Gerard tries to think of something he wouldn’t help Mikey do, but there’s nothing. He’d drive a getaway car, bury a body, even give him bone marrow, and he’s seen the needles they use to get at that shit. “There’s no such thing,” he says. Mikey shrugs, picks up an ad for lipstick and starts tearing around the edge of the logo. “It’s kind of a sex thing,” he mumbles.

'I just thought...I mean, we're 18! I figured maybe you'd fooled around. A little?' First time comic.

If Wen Qing had realized sooner that she wasn’t in the afterlife or hallucinating, but had actually traveled back in time, she’d have done things differently. There’d have been less murder, for one thing.

Dick Grayson, the illegitimate son of the king of Gotham, is back. With his loyal armies and followers by his side, Grayson has a throne to claim and scores to settle with his former pack. Specifically, he has unfinished bussiness with the omega brother he'd left behind when he'd departed to seek out his allies.

Xie'er goes viral dancing a drunken tango with a stranger. It's probably Wen Kexing's fault. (The competitive ballroom AU you didn't know you needed.)

This is a collection of my 2021 Kinktober works. As the tags say, this is just fanart, no fics. The first chapter works as an overview for the prompts as well as the CW and pairings.

From the other end of the ship, panting as though he has run from the depths of his workshop, Usopp is the next to let out a scream: “Why is there a SHARK ON THE DECK!?”

Jonathan Toews is the billet brother Patrick never had. Or wanted. (A Sentinel AU in which the most far-fetched thing is Jonathan Toews going 24th in the draft.)

As if Sheriff Stilinski doesn't have enough to deal with, now he's been attacked by some enormous dog in the forest, and that's normal compared to what happens next... Re-telling of seasons 1-3B with Sheriff Stilinski being bitten instead of Scott.

He saw the horn poking out from the pony's head, golden and straight and somehow delicate-looking despite the empty tuna can hanging off of it. The unicorn horn. "The fuck," Sidney said out loud, his eye skipping from the horn over the greyish-white body to the graceful gold-toned hooves.

Sid didn’t introduce himself in the hallway, and he certainly doesn’t assume that people know who he is. So it would only be polite to thank Malkin again, this time more personally. He could write him a letter. An email? No, a letter.

“What kind of pleasure do you want to offer the Lover?” Sid asks. People usually want sex, of course, but not always – Sid’s had supplicants who just wanted to make out, or cuddle, or flirt… and one memorable supplicant who wanted to give him a massage, which was awesome. She confessed to Sid afterward that she’d gone in intending to have sex, but “when I saw those muscles, I was like, damn, I need to get my hands all over that!”

Magnitogorsk doesn’t hold much for him. He stares down the barrel of his future there: toiling away at a factory job, living and dying streets away from where he was born. He rubs the water-smoothed stone in his pocket, and thinks of the thunder of the waves. He knows that staying here will kill some essential part of himself. And so, he leaves. For PatriciaKoiFish, I hope very much that you like it :)

RainyForecast)

When Sid goes down during the game against Capitals he knows the verdict long before the doctors tell him. With the rest of his career at stake, as well as the potential of a healthy life after retirement, he’s running out of options. When Sergei Gonchar reaches out with a questionable offer, Sid has a difficult time refusing.

Malkin’s table stays until closing time, still lingering over that bottle of Beluga when Sid comes out of the kitchen to start his nightly closing routine. He goes through the same checklist of jobs he does every night after the kitchen closes but before the bar does, tries to keep his mind on the tasks at hand, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t notice Malkin’s gaze tracking his movements, if he pretended that he can’t feel the heat of Malkin’s eyes on him as he moves around behind the bar. Sid tells himself to keep his head down, but when he does look up, just to test his theory, Malkin doesn’t even bother to look away, just holds Sid’s gaze, direct and unblinking with just the tiniest hint of a smile. The thing is, Sid’s notoriously bad at this stuff. He’s never had any working gaydar that he’s aware of, and he’s been wrong – very wrong – about this kind of thing probably more often, in his life, than he’s been right. So he assures himself this is just another one of those occasions where he’s definitely reading something incorrectly, imagining things, because there’s no way the captain of the Pittsburgh Penguins is, whatever – checking him out. That would be ridiculous.

Hilary is okay with having a rep if it means NHL stars bring her Cheetos.

AU: Sidney Crosby is a foster kid growing up in Nova Scotia. Geno Malkin is a Russian transplant. They play hockey. And also have sex. I claim to know very little about the junior hockey league and even less about Canadian Childrens Aid Services.

“We were playing a pickup game on a rink in my hometown and I high sticked him in the face and knocked his front tooth out. I thought he was going to be so angry but he looked at me like he wanted to hold out his bloody tooth to me and propose.”

"It can't get any worse," said Nicklas Backstrom in an interview before the first round of the 2018 playoffs. He should have known to be careful of the jinx something like that could bring, but now it's there, and Nicke and the team are determined to get rid of it by any means necessary.

Beau was willing to bet that a lot of people's weird superstitions started out like his. Something that had been a dumb bet or stupid competition in college or Juniors, but then fuck if they didn't score that night. So it became a thing, and since enough of them have weird fucking things they'd rather not get chirped about, it just becomes normal. All that said, Beau probably could have braced himself a little better for the inevitable, which was Flower pausing in his rapid-fire and unintelligible conversation with Tanger to grin like the cat that had caught the canary and ask, in the most delighted tone possible, "Sunshine, are you wearing panties?"

The first time Nicke sees a mature pair of player wings in person—not pre-downs, not rookie wings, but a full wingspan—it's the April before the draft, and he's in a dressing room in Latvia, trying not to be star-struck by his own teammates. Or: The NHL gives you wings.