The love of Sander's life still manages to surprise him.

Maria's not sure how it all happened, really.

"It's Karen," she says hopelessly in the middle of his doorway like he wouldn't know her a thousand other ways. The whiff of perfume on her, Viktor & Rolf Flowerbomb trapped underneath a thick smear of booze, or the sound of her shoes on the hard tile floor. She's drunk already; her breathing is faint and thready. Her face is too hot.

A little bit of contextless silliness, written for Elise. Mild Jehan-related naughtiness and an impatient Grantaire.

Cycles of love and loss and understanding.

Max/Jude; Two different times and bad pickup lines.

It is the heart of the jungle that makes roots that spread below the ground.

Vindice makes ready for an assignation.

(Written for forthegothicheroine's prompt: "Vindici if the Duke and his family were vampires.")

This place up in the loft is where Clark goes to be alone, and when Clark had shown him this place, he’d expected him to laugh. Lex had asked him if he often wanted to go where no one else could find him, and also if this was where he went to drink beer.

(The small-town teenage dirtbag AU nobody wanted, prompted by cygnes/manzanas-amargas and the prompt 'thing…