They meet every night, in the dark halls and deserted corners of the castle, and she doesn't think about what she's doing. Because that's the point - to forget everything. Ginny and Draco during Deathly Hallows, oneshot.

When eleven-year-old Ginny Weasley is sorted into Slytherin, she is thrust into a world where the line between good and evil is blurred and where the boy she was supposed to hate becomes the man she was never supposed to love. DG, AU.

James and Lily, and a whole lot of firsts. Smut.

[Disney-Kink Fill] Violet doesn't know how she ended up here, panties around her knees and Syndrome's fingers up her skirt.

redemption 1. an act of redeeming or the state of being redeemed. 2. deliverance rescue. 3. Theology. deliverance from sin salvation. 4. atonement for guilt.Completed. Sequel coming.

She is the key to his revenge. The process is complex, but oh so fun. Seduction. Betrayal. Manipulation of her precious emotions and mind. He enjoys it more than he should, and the more he touches and talks to her, the closer his doom creeps. Synlet

They wouldn't admit anything, but they came close enough.

Being the part-time boyfriend, part-time babysitter of the princess isn't all it's cracked up to be, but Eugene Fitzherbert is up for the challenge. Besides, he loves her. Now rated M for extra sauciness.

*AU* Flynn Rider's terms of parole include going to therapy, and they don't expressly forbid hanging around with that one awkward graffiti girl.

It's become very clear to Eugene that Rapunzel has little to no understanding of amorous affection.

In Memory of John Hughes. Neither knows if they'll have more than those stolen moments, but each feels those moments are worth more than, well, diamonds. Are they as hard to break? It just keeps going and going Hard T. Really hard.

M-rated supplements to Good Feelings. Each chapter on its own will be essentially a little PWP. If that's your thing, no need to read the epic. If M-rated stuff not your thing, these won't be necessary to follow the main story. John/Claire.

Age old mystery of what happens after that memorable detention and the lives involved. Reviews are always appreciated.

The Brink is a compilation of chapters from A Life Rescued that require a Mature rating. The chapters here correspond with the Teen rated chapters in ALR.

Of belts, winds, dinners, and albatrosses.

Or, "The M-Rated Stuff I Can't Put In 'Quite Peculiar'."

ONE-SHOT: He'd seen a photograph of Pansy Parkinson in the Prophet, printed the morning after her trial, and he could recall the basic impression that he'd had of her—young and reasonably pretty, groomed for tea parties and cotillion balls, a potent, visceral reminder of the life he'd loathed and lost and left behind. The girl in the pub is very much not that girl. PP/SB.

ONE-SHOT: He spends most of his morning elbow-deep in the guts of a Hagrid-sized pumpkin, sifting through stringy orange pulp for the tear-shaped ivory seeds—he has to owl his mum for detailed instructions on how to roast the bastards, and even goes to an out-of-the-way backwoods apothecary to procure a last-minute bulk-order of ground cinnamon. CM/LL.

TWO-SHOT: "So—you're upset," he says with a nonchalant nod and discreet adjustment of his slightly too-tight khaki corduroys. She blinks at him, her expression alternating between indignation and incredulity and flat-out fury. He had been right about her being pretty beneath the intimidation tactics. HG/DM. (Companion to 'Punch Drunk').

ONE-SHOT: On her twelfth day, she's standing next to a bank of stainless steel wire bird cages and clasping a shrink-wrapped package of pine wood shavings to her chest and legitimately praying for strength when Harry pauses in the doorway for no readily apparent reason other than to scowl disapprovingly in her general direction and that just. No. That's it. PP/HP.

ONE-SHOT: She's buying a box of condoms when she meets him. HG/TR.

ONE-SHOT: "Can I get a small, hot, quad quarter-sweet tres leches latte, ristretto, with three pumps of vanilla and a drizzle of cinnamon?" Edmond Lestrange asks, bouncing on the balls of his feet. She clenches her jaw. "And you, Tom?" she says, ballpoint pen poised over a to-go cup. HG/TR.

COMPLETE: It was small, slim, about the length of her hand; the leather cover was soft, the sewn-in binding was crisp, and the thick vellum pages were empty. 'Tom Marvolo Riddle' was printed in ancient, flaking gold leaf across the front. He had been a Slytherin, a prefect, and head boy in 1944. She had checked. HG/TR.

COMPLETE: A broken time turner shouldn't have sent me back so far. It was unprecedented. Stepping on it-smashing it-nothing should have happened. At most, I should have lost a week. At worst, I should have disappeared altogether. I shouldn't have traveled back fifty-two years; half a bloody century. This should not have happened. HG/TR.

COMPLETE: When I finally came, it felt as if I had been flayed open, spine exposed, a cachet of fireworks set off in half-second increments along my vertebrae as he murmured my name so reverently I could not help but think that there must be some magic to it, to me, to him. HG/DM.