"The most notable holidays in the Resistance, ironically, aren't from a planet at all--or they were, but it's a planet that was turned to dust and nothing before Rey was even born."

“You mean to tell me you’ve never touched yourself.” Rey knows that there’s a great deal she doesn’t understand about the universe, but sometimes, compared to Finn, she feels utterly worldly. This is one of those times.

Finn is somewhat underprepared. Poe is only trying to help.

He hears: “turn here” and “listen carefully” and Poe nearly trips as a Stormtrooper says the words that wrap around Poe’s right thigh.

Fleeing from political enemies, Dorian Pavus never expected to face a far greater danger on the high seas — a danger to himself, and a danger to his heart... A thoroughly pornographic pulp romance.

Seven Happily Ever Afters that weren't. Welcome to the Wonderful World of Disney.

The best thing about “trade negotiations” is that no one is ever likely interrupt them.

You can't control your lungs. It's ridiculous, this is just a bit of rope, you could bite or claw through it if you tried hard enough (no you couldn't, he's too good at this.)

Leia glided closer, brushing Luke’s hair out of his face, then leaning in. “Both of us,” she whispered, and then kissed him firmly. Han could feel Luke let go of all the tension in his body all at once. If he had stopped holding him up, Luke would have simply dropped to the floor.

"Kel finds some boys picking on a dog."

"The best advice comes from those who know who you are (who've walked this path before). Relena and her mother, in vignettes."

Five times Parker, Hardison, and Eliot lived out romcom tropes for a con, and one time they found themselves in one for real.

t's taken Poe a long time to get to where they are now, to accept this part of their identity. Poe has never been a boy, and so few people know it.

Ed loses his virginity, and then his inhibitions. Roy loses his mind.

After Dorian gets his soul marks, he mourns for the man he'll never have, this "Hissrad" whose name is on his body. When The Iron Bull gets his, he mourns, for the lack of name means that his soul mate has rejected him. This is the story of how they find each other.

In which Deadpool kidnaps Clint off a battlefield and takes him on a roadtrip. A shooting roadtrip. OK, fine. A shooting people roadtrip. Don't be so cranky about it.

He had a sniper rifle scoping the girl’s bright eyes and the guy’s smile.

Tim Drake’s snapchat is 90% him making Bruce Wayne do normal middle-class American things and filming the results.

Ever since the day he met Jack Zimmermann, Shitty has seen it as his solemn duty to aggressively love him. (He just didn't know how aggressive the love Jack needed would be.)

Written for the prompt "validation". Cullen and Krem, sparring.

Erin Gilbert is not the first straight girl Jillian Holtzmann has ever fallen for. Here’s the thing: she’s good at patterns. She’s good at identifying patterns. Holtzmann isn't a mathematician but that doesn't mean she's not great at numbers and evaluating data and drawing a conclusion. She's a goddamn genius. This shit is easy in the way that people are difficult. Erin Gilbert is not the second or even the fifth straight girl Jillian’s ever fallen for, and it’s kind of getting to be a problem, except when she sees Dr Erin Gilbert, she thinks, maybe, this woman might be a statistical outlier. Nobody can wear that much tweed and be straight, surely. And she keeps trying, hopefully, to believe that, until the Kevin Crush makes it pretty fucking clear that it’s a losing bet. No big. Jillian is used to this, after all, and it’s totally definitely not going to be a problem at all.

This was written as a meme response to the prompt “Sokka and Zuko spend the entire fic arguing about what kind of sex is socially acceptable for them to have”. Yes, it is exactly as not-right as you think it is.

The strap-on was Wade's idea in the first place.

In which Layla has a suggestion, and she, Will, and Warren finally get their collective act together.

You are DAVE STRIDER, former secretarial asset, current forensitech and forever SWAG AS FUCK. You have been asked by your therapist to create a journal, and both of your girlfriends thought this was A REALLY GREAT IDEA DAVE, YOU SHOULD DO IT and YES, THIS IS AN EXCELLENT IDEA. I LOOK FORWARD TO FOLLOWING YOUR TROLLMBLR. Protesting that you already engaged in therapeutic venting through your RAPS and SICK BEATS fell on deaf ears. Welp. Looks like you have a blog. Time to get your socializing on.

A Homestuck sexy fanworks exchange.

Morgana turned away from the high, barred window and rubbed her arms, chilled and bare. Arthur was sitting in the dirty straw at the very limit of his chains, which kept him a few inches too far away to touch Merlin's limp body. Outside they were putting up the stake.

Tony Stark is twenty-one when he loses his voice. It shouldn't matter, but in a world where the first words your Soulmate says to you are marked on your skin, it can be pretty damn annoying.

Sam feels really cheated by history now.

Peter first meets Deadpool when he's nine years old, shaking in a basement somewhere and waiting to die.

After working together more than once, Peter’s trust in Wade develops into a strong bond. He ends up showing him his face and give him his name as a sign of trust :) Now if only Wade knew the word “personal space”.

dirkhal art fill for drone season 2015

"The first time Peter’s timer stops he is eleven years old. It times out in the middle of the night and wakes him up like an electric shock. The blank timer stares at him from his wrist as he yells and screams for his aunt and uncle." Spideypool AU with timers where Wade keeps getting killed and making Peter's timer go blank. By the time they meet he's pretty pissed off. This was certainly a summary with words, but they were not good ones. Based off a tumblr prompt that I cannot find anymore.

"Why don’t you ever let me see it? If you have the name already, why can’t you tell me whose it is? I thought we were best friends." Everyone gets their Name when they turn twenty-one. It isn’t their own name either. It’s the name of their Soulmate. When Wade Wilson wakes on his twenty-first birthday, he looks down at his chest and sees Peter Benjamin Parker. He stares for a moment then shrugs, gets dressed, and doesn’t think about it for another six weeks.

Peter’s known Wade for a while now, so he can maybe see how this makes sense -- like, maybe Wade has a thing about going commando and just happened to have an old girlfriend’s panties lying around, one thing led to another…but… “And the bra?” Peter croaks.

Spider-Man comes out of the closet. Peter Parker would give anything to crawl back in.

Peter was having the worst day the author could've come up with - and that's even before he accidently killed Deadpool.

In a world where the first words your soulmate will say to you appear on your left wrist at your tenth birthday, Peter gets the short end of the stick.

75% of what people say when they're joking is true. When it comes to Jamie and Tyler's fake wedding it's more like 99.9%.

It's Sid's job as captain to match up the subs on his team with suitable Doms. It doesn't take long to figure out that the only Dom he would trust Jamie Benn's particular needs to is himself.

Tyler thought things would be different in Dallas. He just had no idea how different it could be.

Beyond that door is a boy Sid has skated with six times, and spoken to twice. He’s a year older than Sid is, and drugged out of his mind on Bonding agent.

When Taylor is old enough, her dad starts making noises about getting her a bond. He's apparently found someone who is willing to "discreetly" get her an asymmetrical bond and forge reciprocal paperwork for it. When Taylor mentions it to Sid, too excited to pull off sounding anything but, he lets slip a plaintive "No."

“Geno? Are you okay? Physically,” Sid asks, which is good, because Zhenya doesn’t think he can put into words how he’s feeling emotionally. He imagines saying, The person I’ve loved for ten years finally took me to bed last night, but it turns out he didn’t want to, and now I can read his mind. No, thank you. “Feel fine,” Zhenya answers. “Even head feel fine.” And suddenly he realizes how fucking odd that is: he was concussed, and the room is brightly lit – he should be hiding under a blanket right now. He narrows his eyes and asks, “Sid, why head feel fine? What happen to concussion?” Sid takes a halting step closer to the bed and says, “Our bond, it’s—it’s a healing bond.” “Holy mother of God,” Zhenya breathes. So. They’re definitely not breaking the bond, then.

Maybe you’re keyed up from blackflirting with Equius, maybe you’re horny because TZ has been so wrapped up in her new kismesissitude lately, but you find yourself admiring the way Roxy's short skirt rides high up the backs of those thighs. Steady on, Captor, you can’t have everybody, you tell yourself. A traitorous little voice in your head says, why not? Jegus fuck, you need to get laid.

In which an unfortunate off-caste redblood discovers he has new horrifying mutations involving mating cycles and oviposition, and unintentionally draws his unwitting violetblooded (boy?)friend into his heat during what was supposed to be a relaxing movie night. Said seadweller then does his best to help him through it, keeping him safe from all other hormone-addled pursuers through the use of deadly force. Includes a budding matespritship, one healthy moiraillegiance, depictions of highblood rage and murderous intent, the deaths of no less than three unlucky intruders, too many references to troll Princess Bride, much emotional turmoil, some treasonous plotting, an overabundance of pity, egg-laying, and unconventional lusii. You arrived at just the right moment A moment later I would have been out at sea With no way to be reached I'll leave it up to you To carry me through That's about all I can do --lyrics from Carry Me Through, by Greg Laswell

In the game of gay xenochicken there are no losers, which explains why you are currently trying to stick your hands down Sollux's pants.

The two of you pretend to ignore them for a moment longer, until you just can’t hold in the laughter anymore and both lose it. While you’re catching your breath (and maybe still nibbling on Latula’s throat), she says, “So, dudes. You want in on this pants party or what?” They both say, “Yes,” at the same time, and they’re too distracted to do more than try to elbow each other in the ribs without taking their eyes off you, and it’s pretty much the cutest thing ever.

"So, honeybee. I think I found a third for that idea you had. Well, third and fourth.” “Which idea? FUCK YOU YOU LITTLE—“ Some turd tried to sneak up and shank him from behind. Mituna nuked him into orbit, then turned his attention to Latula. “The helmsman idea.” He froze. That idea. Oh fuck. Ohhhh, FUCK. He thought she’d maybe forgotten that one.

The problem is that you’re at the mercy of a useless, outmoded, ass-backwards mess of a biological process. The drones are gone. They’re never coming again. But your body sure thinks they are. It was— You wouldn’t say it was fine, but it was at least tolerable for a while. Realistically speaking, there was always a reasonable (ninety-nine percent) chance that you’d be culled the first time you tried to supply the drones with a pail, and you’ve been bracing yourself to deal with this since you pupated, for fuck’s sake. It feels like a kick to the shame gloves when your body betrays you and decides, whoops, no, it’s time to be all about filling pails for the glory of the empire.