A little bit of contextless silliness, written for Elise. Mild Jehan-related naughtiness and an impatient Grantaire.

Rapunzel and the girl who would be Flynn Rider face their toughest challenge yet: unexpected social obligations.

Better safe than close. A phrase Alleria repeated to herself so many times over their lost years that it has become some strange combination of vow and hymn.

"Your husband is a schmuck to eat out when he's got a dish like you at home."

Raleigh knows he likes bottoming.

Carefully taking a pillow and placing it in his lap, Ted mumbles, “Think I outta be getting home, sleep this off.”

“Can’t do that either,” Higgins says, grimacing sympathetically. “You’ll have to, ah, burn it out.”

(In which Ted gets dosed with sex pollen, and Trent and Rebecca work together to help him through it.)

"You're Murdock's second in command."

"We're partners," Foggy says, but he can't not trip over the words because it's fucking cold in here and his tongue feels swollen in his mouth. Maybe he's got a chipped tooth. "That's how lawyers work, we're partners."

This guy knows about Matt. He fucking knows.

Newt's taken up an alternate payment plan.

This place up in the loft is where Clark goes to be alone, and when Clark had shown him this place, he’d expected him to laugh. Lex had asked him if he often wanted to go where no one else could find him, and also if this was where he went to drink beer.

(The small-town teenage dirtbag AU nobody wanted, prompted by cygnes/manzanas-amargas and the prompt 'thing…