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.

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.

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.

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.

“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.”

Shouta’s plan had been ill-defined and desperate from the start, but he figures the important shit boiled down to, “Change as little as possible, make sure Midoriya doesn’t get himself killed, and stock up on lychee jelly pouches because that flavor got discontinued three years from now.” Keeping it simple’s always better, and he’s normally good at improvising. Somewhere along the way, he must’ve fucked up since now he has: A quirkless problem child hanging off of his every word His best friend going through a sexuality crisis thanks to said problem child’s mom His other best friend clinging to him like a security blanket Some two-bit mob boss threatening him with bouquets of daffodils To wring the number one hero’s fucking neck for not telling him anything useful before sending him decades into the past All he did was walk Izuku Midoriya home. It wasn’t meant to turn into whatever mess this is.

“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.)