Stiles and Lydia never should have become friends, for Derek’s sake.

"I got you this." He sets a tiny box on the table between you and nudges it in your direction with psionics. You stare at it. It's the right size to hold a human-style commitment-designation ring, which you sometimes think would be a cool thing to have but as far as you know he's never been interested in. "For those times when I'm being a jackass and you need to snap me out of it." A little smile, a hint of the smug asslord creeping back in around the edges of the apologetic matesprit. "Or when you just want a shortcut to getting my attention."

Of all the wonderful things to come out of peace talks, Tobirama relishes Izuna's jealousy the most.

His arm wasn't the only thing the Galra changed. They also gave him certain... needs. Shiro learns to make it work for him.

Shisui's breaths feel too loud in the quiet of the room, like they’re coming too fast. It’s like he’s panting, like he can't get enough air, and it makes his head spin. His whole body is shaking, overheated, burning up from the inside, and he has to catch himself on the edge of the sink and lean there, gasping for air, acutely, exquisitely, awfully aware of every inch of his skin. Behind him, a page turns, crinkling, and there's a quiet hum.

Eddie briefly recalls some tentacle porn he’d watched just before Venom became a part of him. The copious vines holding her up and entering her every opening simultaneously. Fluids, from her or the monster who could tell, leaking from her mouth and pussy and ass. Oh, Eddie. Venom’s thought shook him, definitely not wanting to take their tongue out his mouth, How’d you keep this from us? Eddie had to be completely honest… he had absolutely no idea how he did either. ~ That good good tentacle fuckin' that Eddie so desperately wanted.

It looks like a seizure, Stiles falling down and twitching and writhing on the floor. His limbs are shaking, his body trembling, but afterwards Stiles always tells him it isn't a seizure. Derek isn't so sure. If it's not a seizure, what could it be?

Sanji being tied up was a treat. The wiggly cook was hard to pin down, and he didn’t particularly like being restrained when they were on the high seas, just in case of an attack, but hotels? Docked safely on inhabited islands? They all quickly took advantage of the rest to string up their favorite chef. To watch him strain himself against the expertly tied knots and leather. The positions for only them to see and enjoy. Really, the cook of the Strawhat pirates was easily one of their most prized possessions.

“I don’t have a small dick, idiot,” Alex openly laughed, a stark contrast to Henry’s quiet, reserved chuckle, “I have no dick.” Henry stared at him for a moment and Alex just looked back at him, taking a sip of his drink. “Funny,” he said with a flat voice, indicating that he did not, in any way, find it funny. “Well,” Alex moved to clarify, tilting his head to the side for just a moment, “I supposed I do. But it’s currently tucked away in my hotel room. And I’m not sure if you count t-dicks in what you’re referring to.” “I… don’t know what that means.” Alex laughed again, shaking his head this time, “Of course you don’t.” “Shall I google it?” And Alex couldn’t help but egg him on. “Oh, definitely. When this event is over, you should open up your laptop, pull up that special website you go to for your alone time and type ‘T-Dicks’ into the search bar. I promise it won’t disappoint.” OR Henry does as Alex suggests... and Alex is obsessed with how Henry looks when he falls apart. Lots of sex ensues.