The first time Luffy walks into the Baratie with Usopp and Zoro during lunch rush, Sanji has to go stand in the walk-in freezer to scream into his hands. He wants to tell Zoro to get the fuck out. He cannot tell Zoro to get the fuck out, because that’s unreasonable and rude. Just because Zoro is—unfortunately—Sanji’s type in men doesn’t mean Sanji can act like a child around him. See, Sanji wasn't gay until he met Gin. Gin wasn't gay, either. What they did together was everything from "practice" to "just some fun" to "giving a friend a hand" (or mouth, or hole). But they certainly, absolutely were not boyfriends because Gin was straight and Sanji was straight. It was perfect, until Sanji had to go and ruin it by liking it too much. He flew too close to the gay-sun and his not-gay wings of wax melted, go fucking figure.

“It’s not a quirk,” Izuku tells the poor sod, who looks like he needs to catch up on four years of sleep and has been combating that fact with caffeine pills and spite alone. “It’s breathing. I’m literally just breathing. Do you want me to stop breathing?” he demands. When Eraserhead glares at him like he’s murdered someone (which he has, technically, but what is someone, really), Izuku sniffs righteously and says, “Stop glaring at me!” Eraserhead takes a deep breath. “Breathing, yes, like that,” Izuku says eagerly. “Want to see me do it too?” “No,” says Eraserhead. Midoriya Izuku's family tree may or may not include one Kamado Tanjirou.

Tyler Seguin is a very good wedding planner. Which is why he’s not freaking out that Jamie Benn of the Dallas fucking Stars is sitting in his office.

I, ___________________________, hereby acknowledge that this form represents my wishes should I contract phytoaphrodisiac-induced delirium (hereafter referred to as “PAID”) during engagements with or while apprehending Dr. Pamela Lillian Isley (“Poison Ivy”). - The bats have a sex pollen release form. Because of course they do.

Hands came to clutch at his haramaki as Sanji returned the kiss. It was reminiscent of the first time they'd done this, after the encounter with Kuma on Thriller Bark. The cook had looked wrecked finding him after, and it'd taken days before Zoro remembered Franky's advice to him. The difference now laid in experience. Zoro knew Sanji's body, and the opposite also held true. He wriggled into a more comfortable position, and encouraged Sanji's questing hands with a suck on his tongue. When they roamed down his back, Zoro's legs widened of their own accord. Fingers dug into his firm asscheeks, kneading and spreading them. Then they pressed into his crease, and Sanji's breath stuttered, breaking away from the kiss. Then the cook groaned, a dirty, incorrigible sound. There's a number of responsibilities Zoro has as first mate of the Straw Hat Pirates, and sometimes that includes fighting the demons of a certain curly brows... naked.

Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan's first vacation after their wedding takes them to the Unclean Realm. Away from their parents and with a handsome man like Nie Mingjue by their side, their nights are spend fruitfully.

There was a hook in the Cook’s galley floor. Zoro should've ignored it but it's not like he's all that good at keeping his mouth shut around Sanji.

One thing can get Zoro to sweat more than he does in the gym. Well, one person.

Sometimes, Law knows Sanji better than he knows himself.

After five years of traveling together, Sanji still finds new things to learn about his crewmates.

In ten seconds, Marco the Phoenix would warily accept Whitebeard’s order to stand guard outside the door while the enemy captain and Mama spoke inside. Or; Marco is a friendly fuck, and Katakuri gets one evening of respite from his family issues.

Snip, snip, snip, go the scissors, as Pudding cuts herself out of her mother's life. She won't be going alone.

By the time he’s facing the alley again, there’s nothing and no one there, even the dust completely still. Sanji would think it was his imagination. Except he knows that glowing amber eye. “Oh fuck,” Sanji mutters when he realizes what’s happening. The pokes at his awareness had indeed been taunts, little warnings that someone was most definitely in pursuit, and closing in quickly. The realization of what is about to happen has Sanji’s mouth watering, heart knocking so hard in his chest he’s sure his hidden pursuer can hear it, wherever he is hiding. - Sanji is being followed through town, but it’s no stranger pursuing the lovely cook.

Sam is feeling pretty good so far. His jean jacket is freshly washed, he’s got his favourite red-yellow shirt on (he thinks it contrasts nicely with the blue-green of his eyes). His hair has enough gel in it to withstand even the fiercest windstorms. He’s put deodorant on three times already and he’s wearing enough body spray to bring tears to his mother’s eyes. Gotta smell good, just in case things go according to plan. Today is going to be the day he declares his feelings to Sebastian. He’s ready.

Shane fucks Sam in the JojaMart bathroom as yet another desperate attempt to escape the tedium of his pathetic life. Sam fucks Shane in the JojaMart bathroom to let off some of the pressure of holding everyone else together and keeping up his happy-go-lucky front. So what do you do when your least-shitty coping mechanism isn’t enough to distract from your problems anymore?

He can feel the vibrations against his throat as Sam speaks, his voice velvety smooth. "Did you know an orgasm helps with headaches?". Blunt fingernails scratch softly at the nape of his neck, the sensation causing a shudder to rack its way through Seb's frame. "Really?" Seb asks. Silence spells between the two, and Seb can feel the warmth that radiates from Sam's cheek as he chews on his lip. Seb tilts his chin up so they're making eye contact, cobalt blue eyes meeting those of viridian. Though his voice beams with confidence, his stature and mannerisms are riddled with nerves and insecurity. "Yeah," Sam's eyes contain nebulas, dilated pupils swirling with want as he nods. "You offering one or something?" Sebastian grins lopsidedly at the blond, tracing small shapes into the back of his hand. - Sebastian has a headache. Sam offers him relief.

the boys are back and they are high and horny

Sam breaks his arm and talks a very reluctant Sebastian into helping him with his everyday tasks. Sebastian does because he just can’t say no to his best friend. He knows Sam is taking advantage of him, just a little, but Seb will still do anything, as long as it doesn’t go too far. Well, it depends if jerking off your best friend is considered too far or not.

Tyler realizes there’s something wrong with him when he’s thirteen years old.

“Is the kid in trouble?” “No, of course not—I was just, uh, wondering, Mr. Djarin, if you could tell me about Grogu’s typical diet—I only have limited experience with his species, and I have reason to be... concerned that he’s not getting the enough nutrients here,” said Master Skywalker carefully, the kid sitting beside him, not looking particularly remorseful. Dank farrik, not again, Din thought.

Cody keeps a list of miraculous things he comes across amidst the mundane.

“Maybe,” Alpha says, and it’s not nearly steady as he thinks it is, “I should do this to all the bitchy little pirates I capture.”

“It’s incredible how few people expect that sort of thing,” Granta says lightly. “They're so used to identifying people by their dæmons. Change the dæmon, and they expect a different person entirely.” “Yeah,” Fox says, bland. “Because a dæmon’s supposed to be your soul. The fact that your soul is wrong is your own problem.”

“I got you something. An early Life Day present of my own.”

Obi-Wan Kenobi, Dark Lord of the Sith, takes a hostage. If he wanted it to go smoothly, he probably shouldn't have picked Feral, no matter how much of a pain Maul is.

Depa takes one step into the council chambers and stops dead, clapping a hand over her mouth.

jaskier has three things: an unstoppable libido, a limitless imagination, and the continent's sexiest traveling companion. sometimes, this leads to certain accidents. they become a little less accidental over time. or: five times jaskier accidentally orgasms because of geralt, and one time he comes very much on purpose.

“He wasted food?” Was Sanji’s predictable response. “Nah, it didn’t go to waste,” Luffy assured him. “After Helmeppo left, Zoro made me pick up the dirty smushed up onigiri and feed him it all anyway! Then he told me to tell Rika it was delicious.” “Huh.” Sanji got up, looking thoughtful as he turned back to the kitchen. The rest of the crew still looked fascinated by the story of Zoro’s recruitment. (or the strawhats learn for the first time how zoro joined the crew and sanji takes the news… differently.)

When it comes to Pudding, Sanji is happy to be in the palm of her hand. (Or not, as is more often the case.)

The planetary security forces have captured a Sith, and Maul has nothing but a bad feeling about this.

He can’t even blame Neil. He wants to, it would be so easy to, but even if it was Neil’s fault that Andrew couldn’t stop thinking about it, Andrew had been the one to bring it up. Mostly by pulling a thick, ridged black dildo out of his drawer one day and saying, “I want to fuck you with this. Yes or no?”

"Never have I ever wanted to kiss Neil."

The rise and fall of the Minyard-Josten Rivalry. Usually when Neil starts shit in a post-game press interview, he does it on purpose. This time, he really just meant for it to be a joke. “How do you feel about the possibility of ending up on a team with a former Fox teammate?” is the next question. “Great,” Neil answers, sincere. “I would love to play with Matt or Kevin again.” “What about Minyard? Would you sign with Atlanta?” Neil says, “Andrew? He’s a nightmare.” He knows it’s a joke. His team knows it’s a joke. Andrew will know it’s a joke. The press does not seem to know that it’s a joke.

What's a guy to do when he's forced to go to his conservative, homophobic aunt and uncle's for Thanksgiving dinner? Why, invite along his ex-con, tattooed, argumentative roommate as his fake boyfriend, of course.

“Eat my ass,” Andrew says, shoving his middle finger in Neil’s general direction. He goes back to scooping cookie dough onto the baking sheet, but the sudden silence from his usually so argumentative boyfriend unnerves him enough to glance over his shoulder. Neil clears his throat. He’s bent low over his papers, but his eyes aren’t moving anymore and his ears have turned curiously red. “I would, if you wanted me to,” he mumbles, almost too quiet to hear.

It's not a test. He isn't waiting to see when Andrew will crack, doesn't watch the bar more than usual when they go to Eden's; doesn't even think much about it at all until Nicky corners him in the bathroom at Sweetie's one night and asks, with a honey-smug smirk, about their sex life.

“Neck fetish,” Andrew growls, yanking hard at Neil's hair until the skin at the back of his head prickles hotly. “Mm,” Neil hums. “Yours or mine?”

Five times Andrew wears lingerie just for himself, and one time he still wears it for himself but lets Neil enjoy it too.

This is how it starts, lately: words on an altar, tension thick like incense between them.

In which anal sex is ruminated on, discussed, and joked about, but not actually had. Or, Andrew pokes and prods at his sexual boundaries a little at a time, as a treat.

“I can fake anything,” Neil says with a smirk. “Including passports, but those don’t come cheap.” “What about orgasms,” Andrew asks. (or, Andrew’s roommates are having noisy sex. Enter Neil Josten, actor extraordinaire and willing to help Andrew get petty revenge.)

The recorded number of times someone hit on Neil Josten and got nowhere, and the one time Andrew didn't even have to try.

alvarez91: guys have you seen the new article about jean lailah: NO tell me what's in it alvarez91: i want you to imagine the most 'no homo' statement ever by a student athlete. and then i want you to imagine there's a two page spread written in that style. (or; jean and jeremy are no homo'd beyond belief by the press, the fans go wild, and somehow neil josten appears.)

this is what it looks like when your grandfather loves you but your whole family's emotionally constipated. (except for your uncle, but that might just be all the tea he drinks.)

“I’m sorry,” Jaskier says, “but I must have misheard you. ‘Three times’? Geralt, you’re not a man. You’re a-” “Shut up,” Geralt says. “I shouldn’t have told you.” “The worst thing of all,” Jaskier says, either having gone deaf or choosing to ignore Geralt completely, “is that you’ve never really tried. That this is total hearsay. Gods, it could be more than three. You could go all night.” “If you keep on,” Geralt says, “You’ll never find out." (or: Witchers don't have refractory periods, and Jaskier is keen to investigate.)

Geralt has very, very faint memories of his earliest times in Kaer Morhen. Of when they were all undeniably human. There were so many of them, dozens and dozens of young boys all crowded in together with each other. They’d sleep in piles, crowding for space, seeking warmth and comfort, innocently, naively unrestrained and shameless. Grabbing at and climbing over each other without thought. And then they started taking the mutagens, fewer and fewer boys woke up and rose from the floor to eat breakfast in the morning, and all of a sudden there was enough room for all of them to have their own room. No more crowding, no more piles. No more touching.

Years and years after Kaer Morhen, in the bed of a particularly skilled prostitute, Geralt learned that other things besides injury and stress could trigger his strange mutation. Warmth. Safety. A lovers’ touch. He’d also learned that no matter how good of an actress a lady of the night may be, there were limits to what a human would put up with for the sake of coin. When Jaskier comes along, the White Wolf already knows to hide his freakish nature as best as he’s able.

There's a Jedi standing on the landing platform, entirely unmoving, and he’s been there for almost ten minutes now.

"Oh," Izuna said -- delicately, while studiously reading his folder, "I'm afraid we need someone with a ... strong personality for Naohime." "Why's that?" Hashirama replied, just as painfully polite. The daimyo's mediator kept watching them and scratching little pointy words in his notebook. "Because if your man doesn't prove that he's dangerous and has the personality to use it on her if she pushes him, it's going to turn abusive," Madara drawled. Hashirama stared at him for a blank second. The daimyo's envoy stopped writing; even his stone-faced Aburame bodyguard arched her eyebrows over her darkened spectacles. Tobirama stretched out across the table without another word to take back one of the folders Izuna had spread around him. -- The daimyo is over the whole Uchiha/Senju war. They're going to become one people if they know what's good for them. Madara hates it enough without having to marry a woman too.

So he might have, at some point, tried to figure out an OC for Mobei-jun to ship w fuck. Dude was so perfect, it was a shame his dump truck ass and sequoia thighs remained unembraced. (Also the whole "he's so mysterious and never opens up and unveils his deep thoughts and tender feelings except for me" fantasy but never mind all that.) He'd gone exactly as far as 'Meeting: why tf would he notice anyone. Enemies to lovers? No wait hed kill them straight away. Dashing rescue? Why does he need a rescue he's too cool and basically untrappable anyway, what are they rescuing him from socializing with his cousins lmao???' on his notes before giving up on making it realistic. The next scribble was 'cuz i said so ok next'. There had been no 'next'. His battery had died and when he managed to get home and get his laptop plugged in it was time for another word vomit on the topic of Bing-ge's meat truncheon. [Secret side-quest unlocked: Easter egg hunt! 1/536 discovered. Keep going!] [Category: "is it a headcanon if you didn't think it up with your upper head?" 1/413]