Shikamaru walks into a trap

Obito snatches up the abandoned bottle, jogs three steps, and hurls it with all the force he can manage at the back of the white-haired litterer’s head, snarling, “Hey, asshole! It’s called recycling!”

“Oh my god, Obito, I don’t care that you keep turning our roommates into mindless zombies devoted to serving your will, but in the name of everything holy, at least stop putting them in thrall when you're singing Taylor Swift songs in the shower.”

Orochimaru gets one more chance. Just maybe, it will be enough to save him—and the entire world as well.

He was a chuunin academy teacher, not a courtier trained in statecraft and diplomacy.

It said something about Gai that Iruka was actually unsure whether that was a line.

In which Konoha needs to upgrade their plumbing to be more resistant. (Or, the one where Sasuke and Naruto get genin and maybe someone buys a house.)

“Sit down,” the doctor said. He took blood, three vials filling up dark red. “Any medical conditions?” “No,” Dom said, and then his mouth kept going and said, “What if I want to volunteer for bonding?” The doctor peered at him over the glasses. “Do you want to volunteer for bonding?” It hung in the air. Dom felt it like a noose around his throat, squeezing. Twenty-five to life. “Yeah,” he said.

“We going to get somewhere anytime soon?” Dom said. Brian was staring out the windshield. “Do you trust me?” “What the fuck kind of question is that?” Dom said. “If you say yes, I’m going to take you on the worst fucking ride of your life,” Brian said. “Do you trust me?”

“Are you kidding me, O’Conner?” Brian had the nerve to glare at him. “I’m not doing it on fucking purpose!” “For Christ’s sake,” Dom said. “Fuck you, Toretto, you’re the one who drove us between skyscrapers,” Brian said.

Arya Stark is his best friend, and she has never wanted to be treated like a lady. But sometimes Gendry forgets.

15 texts that were never sent in Westeros.

Sansa knows, standing on the steps of the Great Sept, staring into Joffrey's triumphant eyes, the blood her father soaking the stones and all the Lannisters' beautiful promises ringing in her ears, that Starks have always been the best liars.

Catelyn Stark leaves King's Landing telling even her old friend Petyr Baelish that she is taking her daughters back to Winterfell. Instead she takes them, without telling Ned, to Dorne because if anyone will believe a tale of Lannister treachery it will be the Martells of Dorne. She realizes, as she reaches the gates of Sunspear, that she is really no better than her father was all those years ago.

When King Robert shares plans to make Sansa Stark his mistress when she comes of age, Ned Stark defies the king and sends both of his daughters to Dorne--Sansa married to Prince Oberyn, Arya betrothed to Prince Trystane. Over the course of years, a plot begins to take shape to rid the royal family of some of the wickedness that has set in like rot.

“Dorne,” the woman whispers softly, “does not take orders from this boy king.”

Tywin Lannister died without any other heir than Tyrion Lannister and his young wife Sansa, and rather than continue the mad fighting in Westeros Tyrion severed all ties and declared Casterly Rock neutral until a single King sat unquestioned on the Iron Throne. The fighting still continues, but House Lannister now takes in war orphans who are raised by Lady Sansa--it is this custom that first draws Daenerys Targaryen to Casterly Rock.

This is literally like a history essay because I couldn't help myself. I'm sorry.

Prince Doran does more than keep the Marcher Lords at bay in exchange for Myrcella Baratheon's hand for his son Prince Trystane--he sends an army to defend King's Landing, and in the same stroke take every scrap of glory from Tywin Lannister and every scrap of power from Queen Cersei.

In an unguarded moment, Oberyn asks if Sansa's parents ever gave one another surprise gifts. For the first time in a long time, Sansa remembers her family when they were whole and happy. In the "For Fear Tonight is All" universe.

Cloud's kind of a dork and so is Sephiroth and they keep on having late night showers together, and it should be weird and awkward (like puberty) but it isn't. There's also a pillow fight.

Orochimaru is on the edge of breaking when someone unexpected pulls him back to solid ground. When the time comes, he returns the favor.

With the Kyuubi’s help, Naruto, Sakura, and Sasuke have successfully landed in the past, armed with a completely fleshed-out plan to get rid of the bad guys and save the world. (Again.) The only problem? When it comes to the transmigration of souls and time-travel jutsus done under the influence, Kurama has absolutely, incredibly terrible aim.

Naruto isn’t the only one in the village to earn the title “monster”. At the age of six, he meets a collared Orochimaru and makes a most unlikely ally.

And with his fingers pressing inside of him and his cock brushing against the sheets and his face in the leather that smelled like Derek, he felt pathetic and desperate all at once. He knew that if he ever got the chance (the opportunity) to be with Derek that he’d ask him to fuck him within half a second. He wanted the older man inside of him and around him and all over him until his senses were so consumed that he was completely senseless. or The five times Stiles fingered himself and the one time Derek did it for him.

After Hobbs caught them in Rio, they didn't get ambushed, and they didn't get away. (AU diverging from Fast Five.)

A Point Break/The Fast and the Furious crossover romance with a sexuality crisis, surfing, a vaguely self-insertish OFC, and lots of beer and sex. Johnny Utah/Brian O'Conner.

This fic goes canon divergent for everything following Mary acting as a client in His Last Vow. Sherlock misses John. John misses Sherlock. Victor Trevor, Sherlock's oldest friend (and a super nice guy in this version) and participant in the 'great sexual experiment of '98' shows up to cuddle the hell out of a touch-starved Sherlock, get him talking, and get those two idiots back together. He'll work on Mary later. One fucked-up couple at a time is all he can handle.

Night gathers, and now my watch begins. It shall not end until my death. I shall take no husband and bear no children. I shall wear no gowns and no jewels. I shall live and die at my post. I am the sword in the darkness. I am the watcher on the walls. I am the shield that guards the realms of men. I pledge my life's blood to the Night's Watch, for this night and all the nights to come. -The Sisterhood of the Night's Watch

Four wolves go to a tourney; or, how the Knight of the Laughing Tree crowned the Sun of Dorne the Queen of Love and Beauty.

The Lannisters meant it as an insult when they arranged the marriage of Sansa Stark to Margaery Tyrell. But is it truly an insult if nobody is insulted?

Allison and Lydia work stuff out.

They cannot see, but she does. Myrcella sees.

If the Martells demanded the traitor Sansa Stark’s hand in marriage in return for peace throughout the Seven Kingdoms, then so be it.

Brian was staring up at him wide-eyed, what the fuck are you doing. Dom didn’t know what the fuck he was doing, but whatever it was, he was doing it, so he didn’t let that show on his face.

Clint had peered at him out of one eye and said, "You know pink's a girl's color." "Not in my day, bub," Bucky said, sliding the tube of the grenade launcher up, chambering the shell, and racking it back down as he stared coolly at Clint. "You know who started that pink is feminine shit? Hitler."

Utakata has never considered himself overly important in the grand scheme of things. But when, rather than returning to the afterlife, he finds himself back in a Kiri controlled by the Sandaime Mizukage, he makes a choice. A few well-placed changes might be enough to shift the course of the future, in the end.

Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni is a wise and terrifying warrior, the titan who has ruled the Gotei 13 for over a thousand years. But, at heart, he’s an old man who likes his tea prepared a certain way and has a soft spot for talented youngsters. It started with Ukitake and Kyoraku, and his latest fledgling seems to be one Kurosaki Ichigo, substitute soul reaper. (Alternatively, a story in which Yamamoto is a crafty old man, Ichigo grows up to be utterly terrifying, and Aizen doesn’t stand a chance.)

“A few weeks ago I would have thought you were impossible,” Sherlock begins, walking into the kitchen in his blue robe, and John – not quite catching on – wants to scoff and argue, No, actually, you are impossible, but then Sherlock continues: “But now I’d say you are improbable.” John thinks this might be flattering, if he could wrap his head around it, but he can’t – Sherlock is standing near, steaming his sun-baked-clean-sand smell, like the beach after rain, an alive smell, an other smell. It’s intoxicating, and John has been studiously avoiding it, but he can’t shift away now it’s so near. Now Sherlock’s so near. And then Sherlock ruins the probable-loveliness of his words and the definite-beauty of his presence by saying: “And by ‘improbable’ I mean ‘not yet scientifically acknowledged.’”

Three weeks after their wedding, they give Sherlock a ring.

On any given day, Sherlock might come out of the bathroom smelling like an Alpha on the hunt (Alpha #8) or an Omega in heat (Omega #9), a Beta brooding (Beta #3), or like no gender at all. The last one was his actual scent, which wasn't so much scentless as confusing. At least in an adult. If Sherlock and John were the sort of people to read Mills and Boon novels, they could have said that what occurred was because destiny intervened and set two destined lovers in their one true pairings' path. It was the lasagna.

The Leverage team gets called in to find and help someone caught between something he doesn't think he's earned and something no one deserves. A MCU Leverage AU that solely exists because Parker would GROK Bucky so fucking hard, y’all. This started as a joke about Magic Mike XXL, and is, in whole, the fault of Katemonster, They Who Transcend All Genders.

aka Steve Accidentally Joins the NY Pride Parade. He had just meant to go to the grocer’s. They needed eggs.

Duo Maxwell has just signed on to join Team Gundam Wing, an upstart League of Legends team looking to win the World Championships. Duo Maxwell, the first openly gay professional gamer. Duo Maxwell, the guy hated by almost all of Reddit. Duo Maxwell, the guy whose own brother hates him. Duo Maxwell, the guy who really just wants to find a team that doesn't hate him. AU.

He keeps the aqun-asala powder in a jar on his dressing table. Every three months he spoons some of it into a mug and mixes it into the water with his finger. It's supposed to be tasteless, but when he swallows it down it lingers on his tongue, affects the taste of anything else he eats for the next couple days, mutes everything. He gets a kick outta eating spicy shit all lackadaisically and offering it to people, and acting surprised when it burns their mouths. (When he explains it to Sera, after she's stopped crying and threatening to stab him with one of his own horns, she thinks it's hilarious — tries to talk him into letting her have enough to prank people, actually. He knows exactly how much is left in the jar though, and he's not sure he's ever gonna get more... so she has to make do with sitting next to him and watching.) "So it keeps you from losing it, huh?" she asks, glaring down into her empty flagon like she doesn't know where the beer got off to. "No squishy pffff—" she puffs up her cheeks and sets the flagon down, curving her hands into a circle and then moving them apart, "—for the qunari pokers?"

In which the Sage of Six Paths decides he doesn’t like the ending, and Tobirama gets dragged along to fix things. The outcome is most definitely not what he expected.

In which Ichigo and Rukia are bros, and no one gets it.

Sherlock needs John. John lights up around Sherlock. Mary loves her boys and thinks this is a lot less complicated than they are making it. Set right after TEH and before SoT. Fast turning into a bloody epic season three fix-it.

“Fuck,” John says, admiringly. He enjoys giving women head, but this is something else altogether. This is devotion beyond the call of duty. This is fucking worshiping at the altar of Mary Morstan.

"Oh bloody fucking DAMN!" Sherlock shouted, apropos of nothing. John nearly dropped his tea. John turned and found Sherlock shaking his passport. "Mycroft made me French!"