“It can’t be that difficult,” Shōta snorts. “You have clearly never tried to apply nail polish before,” Hizashi says flatly, giving Shōta an unimpressed look.

“Mom! Dad! Father! Someone’s at the door!” “Oh gods,” Sakura mutters, head halfway buried under the pillow. “How did she get your lungs, Naruto?” There's a sound of tired agreement from her left, though Sasuke doesn’t even attempt to pick his face up out of the mattress. “You're the medic-nin,” Naruto says, amused, and pushes up on one elbow to squint blearily at the bedroom door. “Want to draw straws?” “You're already up,” Sasuke probably says, though even Naruto's ears have a hard time catching it. “And before eight they're your kids.”

Every step Sanji took, he wanted to die. Every step he took, gods, he felt alive. It was strange, odd, uncomfortable, glorious, his mate's arm around his shoulders, all burly muscle, tucking Sanji under impressive biceps and up against just-as-impressive obliques. You'd think Zoro was an alpha to look at him on a normal day. Broad, head high as always - could he have walked any other way if he tried? - dripping confidence, exuding well-earned ego. And his lover, Sanji, so much narrower, several inches shorter with their carefully chosen shoes, head a little ducked as he smoked through a slim little black filter. "I think I'm gonna have a fucking heart attack." "Good thing I'm here to give you mouth to mouth, cutie."

To be clear, Cassie is Wonder Girl. Very much so is she Wonder Girl. She likes being called that; she likes being called “she”. She likes being Amazon-adjacent enough to almost count as a sister to Themyscira. She doesn’t always like . . . other things associated with being Wonder Girl, though. Or even being a girl at all. Anyway, that’s why she just broke two pairs of scissors trying to get her stupid fucking hair to just fucking cut already in one of Titans Tower’s communal bathrooms. One of the girls’ communal bathrooms, which isn’t really helping how she feels right now.