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 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.

In which Dirk has hell of computer issues/plays matchmaker, Calliope is revealed to be a big ol' pervert, and it's implied that the future of entertainment is a heavily edited version of an incredibly shitty fanfiction featuring hot unicorn on wizard action/violence. Also there's animes.

Your name is Dave Strider and your universe is DEAD. You have to find a safe place for your nubby-horned, alien companion in the DEPTHS OF SPACE. Under normal circumstances, you would be deader than your old universe, but you're no longer a MERE HUMAN, having ascended to god tier. The troll has not, but it helps that you hitch a ride on a FANCY SPACESHIP. All you need to do is find your MISSING FRIENDS and you are golden. >>AU after the scratch. USS Enterprise [UE] began texting turntechGodhead [TG] at ??? UE: Hello. This is Captain James T. Kirk of the starship USS Enterprise. We are on a peaceful mission of exploration. UE: My communications officer picked up an odd signal from this location. Can we offer any assistance? --Now with FANART--

The Golden Ending for SBurb has been realized and thanks to some careful time jimmying, everyone's ended up in the same timeline and the same present. Including the Trolls. Which can be a little, uh, complicated. Started out as wondering about a family of Striders that included Davesprite and Lil Hal and Alpha Dave, ended up expanding into a massive and strange thing of beauty. Includes an homage to Asukerian's one armed Davesprite with her gracious permission. These are written in whatever order we want but we promise to make sure they're put in mostly chronological order here on the series hub. (mostly because Time Shenanigans) CANON COMPLIANT UP TO THE GIGAPAUSE.

They managed to win the game somehow. He's not really sure of the details, but it's not all it's cracked up to be. He's stuck in an unfamiliar body with a thirteen year old little brother who's terrified of him. Somehow, he is sure this is his fault.

If the request meme thing is still on may I request some harleybert sandwiches with Vantas-filling?

Inuzuri, 78th District of the Rukongai, is dry, featureless, and hot, filled with thieves and murderers. It's probably just about the closest someone can get to Purgatory while still keeping to Soul Society. Fitting, Obito thinks wryly, that this is where he woke up.

Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors, oh my. (Or, Tobirama has a date. He will probably live to regret it.) Prequel to It’s Witchcraft.

The separate steps along divergent paths don’t change the fact that the destination remains the same.

Allison isn’t sure what, exactly, she was expecting from college, but it wasn’t an instant live-in best friend and an immediate invitation to a party.

This was really, really not normal behavior for Gerard - not for real, normal Gerard, and it was even a little abrupt for the imaginary Gerard who lived in Frank's head and came out during his Special Alone Times with his dick.

yeah, they're dysfunctional, traumatized, and occasionally murderous, but they're a family, and sometimes they even act like it. the term 'Bat-Family' does sound an awful lot like a mirror to 'Crime-Family'.

“If you shower my couch with love and affection, I might actually kill you.” Or: how Tim Drake buys a house, rebuilds his life, and accidentally falls in love.

but a clean browsing history is a dirty browsing history, Chris

Snippets in the life of Katsuki Yuuri, 24, as he lives his life with his coach-and-rival-and-fiancé, 5-time world champion, coffee-master, love-of-his-life, Victor Nikiforov.

ne dislocated shoulder and two minor intergalactic incidents later, and all Tim wants is a shower, a mushroom and swiss cheeseburger, and a blowjob, preferably in that order.

“You stole my secretary.” Or: how Tam Fox joined Team Batgirl.

A refugee ship from a dying planet crash lands on the Southern Continent during the Ninth Pass. Can a handful of troll kids and a former Empress carve out a Hold and Weyr for themselves without giving too many hidebound Holders heart attacks?

In which Karkat frets about everything and is definitely not avoiding his moirail.

This is a mixfill of two prompts! Prompt 1: Jane/Equius - She's a classy blue heiress, he's probably resilient enough to survive surprise dominatrix mode, it could work. Prompt 2: Sharp dressed man, Equius Zahhak Gold watch, diamond ring I ain't missin' not a single thing And cufflinks, stick pin When I step out I'm gonna do you in They come runnin' just as fast as they can 'Cause every girl crazy 'bout a sharp dressed man Equius Zahhak in some very nice clothes, getting undressed later by an interested party and preferably ridden hard to be put away wet. Possibly even at the party in some secluded alcove. C'mon, you know that the boy would be fiiiiiine in a tailored suit. And then it exploded on me and turned into an actual fic, god damn it. Stay tuned.

Sollux just wanted a tattoo. He came out of it with ten piercings and a threesome.

Sollux is invited to 'tentacle night' by his kismesis Roxy. He's a little confused when she shows up with more tentacles than him.

Care and fucking of your lispy bipolar nerd.

Growing up on a flying meteor is hard work. You know this from experience. TG: dude what is this piece of shit you just sent me CG: TO PUT IT IN YOUR HUMAN TERMS: CG: IT’S A FUCKING LOVE STORY, DAVE. Well, it's a bit more than that.

The dishes need doing. They're not the only thing.

For this ask on my Tumblr: IM IMAGINING THE WRITING THING AS MADATOBI NOW?? IMAGINE!! secret letters between enemy clans. tiny stick figure drawings of hashirama doing something stupid. instructions for a new jutsu. the possibilities are ENDLESS (Aka that soulmate AU where if you write something on your skin it also shows on the other’s.)

In which Tobirama is sort of Obi-Wan, Madara is Anakin but not quite, and Obito and Kakashi don’t quite fit the roles of Asajj Ventress and Luke Skywalker but try their best regardless.

Crown Prince Obito elopes with the blacksmith’s son. Madara hardly expects his day to get worse from there, but he forgot to factor in his ridiculous brother, his nephew’s cunning, and the return of a distractingly attractive sea god he’d really rather remain in his past. There's only one direction for things to go from there, and it’s definitely not up.

"But he had seen the eggs Sollux chose, plain white and faux-chitinous. They were only objects. He had seen no elaborate pulsing, vibrating tubes concealed around the hive, no geometric anomalies or live creatures in the egg jar, and with growing disbelief Karkat began to wonder if Sollux was inexplicably on the vanilla side of what was turning out to be an entire subculture of oviposition." Sollux picks up some jelly and a dozen eggs.

"I ain't opposed to getting my wetware wet," she says. You think you could almost make out the words just from the movements of her lips against your ear, and that gets all down your spine even as part of you writhes in annoyance at a seadweller without any modifications beyond the cosmetic using the word wetware. Fuck it, it's still hot.

Why the Beforan equivalent of yourself didn't appear here, you're not sure, though you suspect it has something to do with direct and indirect transference and the extent to which each of you had contact with game code prior to this remix of the universe; the Ancestors from Alternia had vague memories of being their Beforan selves, so both versions re-instanced, but as far as you know you're the only version of Sollux Captor the game was aware of. Poor Sollux, you jeer internally, all alone in the world. If you were to quadrant yourself, you're not sure whether self-hate or self-pity would be the dominant emotion, but either way, you're getting off on it. God, you make yourself sick. You hold your bulge like you're trying to restrain it, but who the fuck are you kidding. It wraps around your fingers, both tendrils snaking and coiling harder the more you try to will them to stop, like don't-think-of-a-trunkbeast, and you rub at them distractedly because you can't stand not to. Sollux Captor, system architect of the new universe, reduced to thinking with his bulge by two copies of his ancestor being obnoxious at each other. Fuck your hot life.

A yellowblooded troll kid walks into a cult-run computer servicing joint, and immediately regrets it. Inspired by Cultstuck!

Tony attends a wedding; Steve starts making a little space.

Eridan's right. This guy is so bangable, and you're going to be the one to do it. ...just as soon as you can manage to make that whole 'words' thing work again.

Karkat accidentally stumbles across Sollux's nookworm, and...well, he's always wanted to try one, so why the fuck not? A drabble based on two wonderful pieces of art by Syblatortue!

Karkat ends up in his Ancestor's dreambubble. He's kinda okay with that, all things considered.

Feferi returns home with a surprise for Sollux.

"I used to lie under my bed and wonder what it was like to be dead," Erin says, lying in the back of the hearse. Even with the rails taken out, it isn't very comfortable. The clattering stops. Holtzmann leans back, still halfway out the window with one socked foot hooked under the steering wheel, to look at her. "How did you die?"

Salty parabolas ain't got nothing on cheese and gravy. Or, Abby and Holtzmann's first meeting.

cosmictuesdays: Leverage meets the new Ghostbusters team.

For Jillian, looking directly at Erin felt like staring into the sun, something that had left her with a pretty heavy prescription for color corrective lenses as a kid. It was dangerous, and it hurt, but it was just so beautiful it made everything worth it.

Prompt from the Star Trek XI Kink Meme on lj. Prompt: K/S. So, this idea kind of hit me out of nowhere. Pretty much following the tradition of aliens-made-them-do-it [only kind of inverted], in which Kirk and Spock end up at a planet where they are not allowed to touch each other [due to religious issues, politeness protocol, whatever]. Summary: Anticipation was not an emotion Spock had intended to allow himself to feel; yet, it made itself known despite him, and that it was never satisfied made it harder to suppress, each time the Captain walked past or stood near and conscientiously avoided even the brush of their sleeves.