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

TT: Sometimes I've gotta go round her up from some godforsaken cranny of the abyss. Drag her tipsy ass home, tuck her back in. A few instances of Dirk taking care of Roxy while she's half-awake on Derse.

They don't have a lot, but at least they have this, whatever it is.

SOLLUX: tz, n0. SOLLUX: we are not even having this c0nversation. TEREZI: WHY NOT? >:[ SOLLUX: because it’s fucking ridicul0us, is why not. SOLLUX: i d0n’t like the guy. SOLLUX: he’s an asshole.

She's silhouetted in the bright morning light; a shining angel that sets off your headache almost immediately and proclaims Hark ye, maiden of the grain and grapes, today will be a Day Moste Shittey.

Kris is like an octopus when he is drunk; wiggly and floppy and with arms everywhere.

“We should have sober sex,” Patrick says, rolling his neck until it pops loudly. He really should be thinking about getting up off of the floor. “Why would we do that?” Jonny asks, twisting to look down at Patrick like he just suggested that they throw puppies into traffic.

The one where Sidney and Geno get drunk-married in Vegas, and the Pittsburgh Penguins go all in.

For Wally's 21st birthday, they play spin the bottle.

No SGRUB AU, post successful coup, following Eridan Ampora's attempts to make up for being "The Greatest Douchecanoe In The Galaxy" as he finds himself stuck with a bunch of midbloods and fighting to survive such odds as "Oh Shit, It's Drone Season And I Ain't Got Neither A Matesprit Nor A Kismesis". Featuring Karkat "Fix Your Fucking Shit Before I Fix It For You" Vantas reprising his role of the scariest motherfucker this side of the galaxy. Also gills, piercings, and piercings in gills. Also, also sex.

Tim's got a lot of revenge to plan for this.

Derek works at a porn store. One day, Stiles comes in asking all sorts of TMI questions about different toys. That's where it all starts.

Obi-Wan is exhausted, drunk, and just about out of fucks to give.

Settling his grip just above the muted curve of Bitty's hips, Jack squeezes. "Better." Bitty coughs out a laugh. "Glad you're satisfied." "Almost satisfied," Jack says. "I still have my shirt and socks on." "Good," Bitty says, and he leans to press them together, forehead to forehead, chest to chest with only cotton worn thin between them. "I like you like this. It's cute."

Left to his own devices, Jack wouldn’t ever choose texting as a form of communication.

Cullen struggles with his lyrium addiction. Some days are better than others. Or (if you prefer a silly summary for a not-so-silly fic): In which Cullen is suicidally depressed, Dorian is a high-functioning alcoholic, and Bull just wants them both to be happy, except when he wants to crack their heads together for being emotionally stunted idiots.

A Doribull Story! "...and as you gripped my horns, I. Would. Conquer. You.” The Bull's words to him on the road that afternoon had wormed their way into Dorian's mind, and try as he might he can't seem to rid himself of them... - My exploration of how the in-game relationship between Dorian Pavus and The Iron Bull might have come to be, based on in-game banter and the conversions you can have with both characters. This story is very much a case of 'sex first, feelings after'.

They are enemies before the Inquisition brings them together. When the tension of unexpected camaraderie gives way to something more, Dorian learns that the Iron Bull is almost nothing like what he expected. It leaves one to wonder: what does the future hold for a Tevinter mage and a Qunari ex-Ben Hasrath agent?

Iron Bull is almost certainly playing games with him. Dorian is particularly sure of this when he's been drinking.

In which the Bull is one of the Ben-Hassrath's best agents, ready to give himself piece by piece to the fighting on Seheron, and Dorian is cursed, irritated, and stuck in a cave. An AU where the Iron Bull meets Dorian on Seheron, with Beauty & the Beast elements.

Cullen attempts to manage his lyrium withdrawals alone. Dorian won't stand for some Ferelden rube thinking he knows better than a brilliant mage from Tevinte

Drunk manicures and sober sex are better than the other way around. Especially if you're just looking to blow off some steam.... You know what they say: If you can't be with the one you love, love the mind-blowing sex you're having with the one you're with.

15 texts that were never sent in Westeros.

It figures that the one person to catch his notice in Boston would be Jack Zimmermann’s fucking boyfriend. “So, uh,” Kent stutters, all of his charm wiped away by this bullshit turn of events. “You probably think I’m the world’s biggest asshole, don’t you.” Bitty takes a sip of his beer and shrugs. “You’re up there.”

There are reasons he doesn't usually come down for the parties: people, mostly, and alcohol. But there's a reason he has, this time, and that reason made four dozen cookies earlier and is currently pressed up against his side.

Sometimes Bitty sleeps in Jack's bed. It's not a thing, until it is.

Good friends share. Lardo and Bitty are good friends.

Five times Iron Bull had to carry Dorian and one time Dorian tried to carry Bull, gave up, and levitated him instead.

The Iron Bull is a firefighter with scars and history to spare. Dorian keeps setting things on fire- like curtains, and dates. Or, the one where two messed up people find each other, Solas is a righteous avenger, Cullen really needs to stop online dating, and everyone gets a happy ending but not without some pain to go with it.

They managed to win the game somehow. He's not really sure of the details, but it's not all it's cracked up to be. He's stuck in an unfamiliar body with a thirteen year old little brother who's terrified of him. Somehow, he is sure this is his fault.

Zoro is a cambion, which means he feeds on sexual energy. A small crew like the Strawhats, its not normally enough to keep a cambion satisfied, but Sanji happens to be an abnormally sexually driven cook so it usually works out okay for Zoro. At least, it works out alright until Sanji finds out that Zoro's been taking energy from him through his dreams. For Sanji, he's trying to wade through the confusing mess of emotions for a certain marimo after a surprise kiss on the battle feild. It's not easy to do on a normal basis. It certainly isn't any easier when the man he has deeper feelings for is a cambion. Then everyone learns how important it is to keep their local cambion fed, for if they don't, someone might get eaten. literally.

Victor takes figure skating seriously, takes Yuri Katsuki seriously as a competitor, and really doesn't see that banquet coming.

Some people get mean when they drink. Some people get quiet, or loud, or weepy. Sid gets… well.

Zoro asks Sanji out for some private time just outside of town, and a night that begins suggestive and taunting follows a road less travelled into a sentimental territory that lies uncharted. Written for ZoSan month. Smut one shot.

When Hibari orders a bottle of sake at the end of their dinner, Gokudera decides to push his luck and stick around to drink with him. When Yamamoto drifts into the conversation with bitter words about his soulmate, the three of them reveal who they have and what they think of their fated partners. When Gokudera decides to help the drunken Hibari home, he discovers temptation has dark eyes, cold hands, and whispered admissions.

“You know what I am?” Kuroo asks. He’s not looking up at Kenma, instead concentrating too much on pushing his shirt up over his chest. …Shit, Kenma owes Shouyou a thousand yen. (( or: shouyou and kenma make a lot of bets, kenma meets a ridiculously handsome stranger, and a ridiculously handsome stranger treats kenma to a night he couldn't forget even if he wanted to. it's a good thing he doesn't. ))

Once Edward became legal, the number of office outings to the pub went up exponentially. Possibly this was because Edward was really fun to take to a pub.

"Tonight, Zach carried me home."

Shane is pacing around the hotel room. It’s not a huge room and Shane’s legs are long enough that he doesn’t have much real estate to pace before he has to swing back around for another loop. “Can you stop?” Ryan asks. “You’re making me dizzy.” “Okay,” Shane says finally. “Okay. Here’s what we’re going to do. We’re just going to—we’re going to be married. The only way out is through.” “Um,” Ryan says, because this plan strikes him as counterproductive to their shared goal of not being married.

Zach is sick so Eugene makes sure he has everything he needs at home, including food. And that's when he realizes.

Pete is a divorced Elvis impersonator at a Las Vegas wedding chapel, who’s stopped believing in happy endings. Patrick hasn’t, but then again, he’s there to marry Bob.

“Fuck, you too?” is the first thing Zabuza says to him after a solid five years apart.

“Some ground rules, please,” Magnus began. “Simon, I know you're friends with Isabelle, but please stick to defending her character within your own head. Raphael—” he glanced at him— “don't be deliberately provocative. Understood?” Raphael nodded once in acknowledgement while Simon bobbed his head up and down. “Well then,” Magnus said, extending his arms in a grand gesture, glass in one hand, “let us vent.”

Clary has never been any good at putting things back together. When they were in middle school and she accidentally knocked over Simon’s Lego Millennium Falcon, he’d already known to say it was fine repeatedly and usher her out the door instead of accepting her offer to help him rebuild it; if he’d let her try, the wings would have ended up upside down and there suddenly wouldn't have been space for the engine. Her heart is in the right place, usually, but it doesn't often translate to her hands. So when he hears through the shadow world gossip mill that Alec's parabatai rune disappeared briefly, it doesn't take more than one look at Jace’s face to know that she’s been fucking around with the threads of fate again. And, well. She's never been that great at sewing, either.

Brian’s laughing as they drag each other up the stairs of Pat’s apartment, their hips bumping with every step. “Am I making you the worst neighbor in the world?” Brian whispers loudly, while Pat tries his best to get his key in the lock. Brian’s leaning against the wall, wiping at his eyes. “We can make it worse,” Pat says, and he can feel himself grinning. “We can make it so much worse.”

The change can't be immediate, or it’ll seem forced. It has to take time, in order to be realistic. He knows that. He’ll need to seem like a villain. But he’ll be a hero. And for that, Hitoshi thinks he’d do just about anything. Or, Someone's selling UA's secrets, and Shinsou Hitoshi definitely doesn't have anything to prove.

Wei Wuxian can’t sleep. Luckily, Hanguang-jun’s ASMR videos help. A modern AU in which they are all video bloggers and Wei Wuxian cries a lot.

Essentially: LWJ's mom and WWX's mom ON THE RUN with THEIR KIDS. (...and also MY's mom. And any other goddamn moms who need help. Get in the fucking car, ladies, we're saving everybody) Because here's the thing: LWJ's mother was a cultivator who killed her future-husband's teacher. And I think we all have a pretty damn good idea what might have gone down to provoke that, and why the Lan menfolk never actually explain what precipitated this act of extreme violence, and thus we can probably take a stab at why a perhaps-newly-pregnant lady* might end up agreeing to a marriage of convenience with some guy she really wasn't into, who was determined to keep her locked up in a pleasant little prison in Gusu. And I'd like to say "aww, bless him, he saved his unrequited crush all selflessly like, even though they didn't then live together as husband and wife"....but he subsequently knocked her up with a second child. :/ The ladies in MDZS tend to have a pretty shitty time, so this fic is pulling a goddamn Fury Road and scooping them up and taking them off to form their own Ye Olde Themyscira-ish Rogue Sect of ladies looking out for other ladies. (*obvs this is my headcanon.)

Lurking behind covered windows after curfew, all three of them are well on their way to passably drunk when Nie Huaisang lays his current volume down on the table, scattering peanut shells, and sighs. “I wonder what it would be like,” he muses, and Jiang Cheng obligingly makes an inquisitive sound and looks over. The book is open to a woodcut image of a man with a woman bent over his lap, her mouth around him, both of them looking as if they’re enjoying themselves immensely.

There are times Jack thinks he's a very lucky man.