"I hate him." Dick snorts from his seat on the sofa. "You can't hate him, Jay, you've never even met him." "I can and I do," Jason insists, slapping the magazine he's been holding down onto the counter. "Food & Wine thinks he's better than me! Look!"

Michael and Ryan talk about what might have been for their characters.

"Mulan is the leader of C.R.O.W.N.'s best team, Team Disney. They are assigned to take down a criminal syndicate known as the Villains, but is everything as it seems? Written to celebrate the casting of Ming-Na (the voice actor in the Disney Mulan movie) in the S.H.I.E.L.D. television show."

"There's a tiny scrap of a woman leaning against the wall near her. Jo's been too focused on the lack of readings, senses dulled by the white noise of the crowd. She curses herself silently."

A Point Break/The Fast and the Furious crossover romance with a sexuality crisis, surfing, a vaguely self-insertish OFC, and lots of beer and sex. Johnny Utah/Brian O'Conner.

From this prompt by reena_jenkins: Angie/Peggy WW2 AU, where Peggy is still with the SSR but Angie achieves her dream of stardom by way of being a USO Girl in Steve's show? And there's COMPETENCE KINK. (I didn't hit the competence kink, alas.)

The newspapers call her Iron Man. Which is kind of her own fault. She would have put tit plating on the suit, but one good smack to the sternum and all her ribs would collapse. Since the first time she’d made it she’d been very concerned about gunfire, letting the world know she was a grown fucking woman with tits to match hadn’t actually been on her mind.

Suddenly Caine and Jupiter seemed closer again at her house. So I think this may have been what happened, post wedding rescue. Short oneshot.

Missing scene for the Iron Man 3 movie climax. (I actually wrote this immediately after seeing the movie last year, then completely forgot about it, and just found it again this morning. So here, have some Pepper!)

"The Story of Steve 'Walking PR Nightmare' Rogers, and How For a Short While He Single-Handedly Destroyed the Emotional Health of Eva Laura Ortiz, His Now Ex-Publicist"

Winona is called to fix the cock-up of the Yorktown's engines. She uses one of the science-bitches to help her do it.

“We going to get somewhere anytime soon?” Dom said.

Night gathers, and now my watch begins. It shall not end until my death. I shall take no husband and bear no children. I shall wear no gowns and no jewels. I shall live and die at my post. I am the sword in the darkness. I am the watcher on the walls. I am the shield that guards the realms of men. I pledge my life's blood to the Night's Watch, for this night and all the nights to come. -The Sisterhood of the Night's Watch

Four wolves go to a tourney; or, how the Knight of the Laughing Tree crowned the Sun of Dorne the Queen of Love and Beauty.

The Lannisters meant it as an insult when they arranged the marriage of Sansa Stark to Margaery Tyrell. But is it truly an insult if nobody is insulted?

He heard a saying a long time ago: "Absence makes the heart grow fonder." He refused to think it applied to Cloud, for he was an enemy and Sephiroth didn't have the heart.

Yang has always been warm.

Allison and Lydia work stuff out.

Lee accompanies a trade delegation to Suna for the change in scenery and to enrich his son's education. He learns a great deal about cacti.

They cannot see, but she does. Myrcella sees.

If the Martells demanded the traitor Sansa Stark’s hand in marriage in return for peace throughout the Seven Kingdoms, then so be it.

Brian was staring up at him wide-eyed, what the fuck are you doing. Dom didn’t know what the fuck he was doing, but whatever it was, he was doing it, so he didn’t let that show on his face.

Clint had peered at him out of one eye and said, "You know pink's a girl's color." "Not in my day, bub," Bucky said, sliding the tube of the grenade launcher up, chambering the shell, and racking it back down as he stared coolly at Clint. "You know who started that pink is feminine shit? Hitler."

Utakata has never considered himself overly important in the grand scheme of things. But when, rather than returning to the afterlife, he finds himself back in a Kiri controlled by the Sandaime Mizukage, he makes a choice. A few well-placed changes might be enough to shift the course of the future, in the end.

Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni is a wise and terrifying warrior, the titan who has ruled the Gotei 13 for over a thousand years. But, at heart, he’s an old man who likes his tea prepared a certain way and has a soft spot for talented youngsters. It started with Ukitake and Kyoraku, and his latest fledgling seems to be one Kurosaki Ichigo, substitute soul reaper. (Alternatively, a story in which Yamamoto is a crafty old man, Ichigo grows up to be utterly terrifying, and Aizen doesn’t stand a chance.)

“A few weeks ago I would have thought you were impossible,” Sherlock begins, walking into the kitchen in his blue robe, and John – not quite catching on – wants to scoff and argue, No, actually, you are impossible, but then Sherlock continues: “But now I’d say you are improbable.” John thinks this might be flattering, if he could wrap his head around it, but he can’t – Sherlock is standing near, steaming his sun-baked-clean-sand smell, like the beach after rain, an alive smell, an other smell. It’s intoxicating, and John has been studiously avoiding it, but he can’t shift away now it’s so near. Now Sherlock’s so near. And then Sherlock ruins the probable-loveliness of his words and the definite-beauty of his presence by saying: “And by ‘improbable’ I mean ‘not yet scientifically acknowledged.’”

This fic goes canon divergent for everything following Mary acting as a client in His Last Vow. Sherlock misses John. John misses Sherlock. Victor Trevor, Sherlock's oldest friend (and a super nice guy in this version) and participant in the 'great sexual experiment of '98' shows up to cuddle the hell out of a touch-starved Sherlock, get him talking, and get those two idiots back together. He'll work on Mary later. One fucked-up couple at a time is all he can handle.

Three weeks after their wedding, they give Sherlock a ring.

Sherlock needs John. John lights up around Sherlock. Mary loves her boys and thinks this is a lot less complicated than they are making it. Set right after TEH and before SoT. Fast turning into a bloody epic season three fix-it.

On any given day, Sherlock might come out of the bathroom smelling like an Alpha on the hunt (Alpha #8) or an Omega in heat (Omega #9), a Beta brooding (Beta #3), or like no gender at all. The last one was his actual scent, which wasn't so much scentless as confusing. At least in an adult. If Sherlock and John were the sort of people to read Mills and Boon novels, they could have said that what occurred was because destiny intervened and set two destined lovers in their one true pairings' path. It was the lasagna.

“Fuck,” John says, admiringly. He enjoys giving women head, but this is something else altogether. This is devotion beyond the call of duty. This is fucking worshiping at the altar of Mary Morstan.

“Trust me,” Mary whispers, and in a louder voice: “Come in, Sherlock.”

A different kind of race.

"Oh bloody fucking DAMN!" Sherlock shouted, apropos of nothing. John nearly dropped his tea. John turned and found Sherlock shaking his passport. "Mycroft made me French!"

In which Ichigo and Rukia are bros, and no one gets it.

Sublimation 1. Passing from one phase to another without transitioning through an intermediate phase. 2. Where socially unacceptable impulses or idealizations are consciously transformed into socially acceptable actions or behavior, possibly resulting in a long-term conversion of the initial impulse. Patrick Kane and Jonathan Toews should probably have figured out the first time what this type of behavior meant.

“I’m not doing you in the seats,” Pat says, tilting his head back to grin up at Jonny’s red face. “Turn around.” [Timestamp for put your money where your mouth is]

Making sure to stand in profile, Jon watches Kaner take in the sight of him in the too-tight swim trunks. Kaner's fingers twitch at his sides and his Adam's apple bobs as he swallows hard, but Jon can't read his expression. "Jeez," Kaner says after a moment. "It's like two bowling balls stuffed inside a tube sock."

In which John learns to balance a kinky girlfriend, an asexual boyfriend, a ten-inch cock, his sister, the neighbours, his friends, and his blog. Some are more balanced than others.

PWP walks into a bar...

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

Gamzee goes to a party, runs into a good-looking senior, and finds himself in a mess. Fortunately this short, shouty guy gets him out of it and talks him through the hard stuff.

"'4 and 14 adopt a newborn baby together. What do they name it, how do they raise it, etc, etc. Do they eventually get it siblings? Do they ditch it in a dumpster on prom night because its not as fun as they thought?' THIS IS QUITE LITERALLY THE WEIRDEST THING I HAVE EVER WRITTEN. And yet, I am oddly charmed by it."

After the invasion, Natasha’s granddad shows up.

This is not a story about a cow

Kirk finds out who everyone thinks is the hottest member of the Enterprise crew.

He keeps the aqun-asala powder in a jar on his dressing table. Every three months he spoons some of it into a mug and mixes it into the water with his finger. It's supposed to be tasteless, but when he swallows it down it lingers on his tongue, affects the taste of anything else he eats for the next couple days, mutes everything. He gets a kick outta eating spicy shit all lackadaisically and offering it to people, and acting surprised when it burns their mouths. (When he explains it to Sera, after she's stopped crying and threatening to stab him with one of his own horns, she thinks it's hilarious — tries to talk him into letting her have enough to prank people, actually. He knows exactly how much is left in the jar though, and he's not sure he's ever gonna get more... so she has to make do with sitting next to him and watching.) "So it keeps you from losing it, huh?" she asks, glaring down into her empty flagon like she doesn't know where the beer got off to. "No squishy pffff—" she puffs up her cheeks and sets the flagon down, curving her hands into a circle and then moving them apart, "—for the qunari pokers?"

Two very different people fall in love with a boy called death. Finding each other is chance. Falling for each other isn’t. This is their story. (Or in which Nico is Death with a capital D, Annabeth is a serial killer, and Percy is the poor schmuck who falls for both of them.)

Duo Maxwell has just signed on to join Team Gundam Wing, an upstart League of Legends team looking to win the World Championships. Duo Maxwell, the first openly gay professional gamer. Duo Maxwell, the guy hated by almost all of Reddit. Duo Maxwell, the guy whose own brother hates him. Duo Maxwell, the guy who really just wants to find a team that doesn't hate him. AU.

“Sit down,” the doctor said. He took blood, three vials filling up dark red. “Any medical conditions?” “No,” Dom said, and then his mouth kept going and said, “What if I want to volunteer for bonding?” The doctor peered at him over the glasses. “Do you want to volunteer for bonding?” It hung in the air. Dom felt it like a noose around his throat, squeezing. Twenty-five to life. “Yeah,” he said.