I just saw a fic go in a weird direction, and had to check the tags. Sure enough, I missed a tag.
Read tags carefully folks!!
seen from United States

seen from Poland
seen from United States

seen from United Kingdom
seen from Canada
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Brazil
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from Australia
seen from Brazil
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from Brazil

seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from Yemen

seen from United Kingdom
I just saw a fic go in a weird direction, and had to check the tags. Sure enough, I missed a tag.
Read tags carefully folks!!
There have been threats
Rating: Explicit
Length: 27k
Summary: Shane Hollander, captain of Team Canada, goes missing days before the Sochi Olympics. No one knows except for his archrival, Ilya Rozanov.
Excerpt
Shane's head hurt.
That was the first sensation. The world was blissfully dark, but cold. He liked a cold room sometimes, but this was too much.
His hands caught on something, and there was a fraying pain around his wrists. Shane tried to open his eyes.
The darkness was so deep that, for a moment, he was terrified he had gone blind. His heart raced and his breath became shallow, but the air was too stuffy. He took a sharp breath as he realized that he wasn’t in his bed.
His hands and ankles were bound with something, and the darkness was caused by something covering his head. He flailed, but his elbows and thighs banged painfully into something on all sides. He tried to sit up and smacked his head on a hard surface.
Was he in a box? A cage?
His breathing quickened. He couldn’t even stretch his legs out, but he tried anyway, kicking hard. Everything was too small, too close. He was going to die.
behold
chapter 3
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
i wanted to add more to this chapter, but that could all go into hte next one
i have to wake up early as hell but its 3:06 and im working on chapter two of my longfic anyway because that shit is not writing itself
https://archiveofourown.org/works/89027591
Fuck. Does he—
Tim’s brain keeps thinking about how all of this might transfer to how Jason is in bed normally.
He really can’t help it. All this time, forbidding himself from thinking of Jason in any possibly impure manner, even hesitating to think of Jason reciprocating his feelings or responding positively to anything romantic, and it all goes to shit because the pretty little bird just shows up, desperate and—
-
or: A pretty little bird stumbles into the Red Hood’s—Tim’s—safehouse with a bad, bad case of sex pollen, and begs way, way too prettily.
Erm guys, I think someone sent me AI fanart "for my fic" but it includes a scene that never happened. I dont want to accuse of AI, however the finger cout is off on some characters, the style is inconsistent, and it doesn't feel cohesive
It is only line art tho
Heres the work
the art of writing the horniest things possible and then watering them down because she would not fucking say that