Neji is nineteen. He’s Hokage. The House system has officially been demolished, and the key to his seal, to every Caged Bird Seal, is sitting on the desk in front of him. It feels like freedom, and maybe a little like terror.

“What is that,” Obito says flatly. “It is a cactus,” Gaara says, like that’s the only question here. Deftly, with an air of ceremony, he sets the pot in Obito's hands, and then tells him, “It reminded me of you.”

The thing that most people who are not sect leaders fail to understand is that being a sect leader is hard. It’s not the countless duties and obligations, or the crushing weight of responsibility, or even the hours of meetings spent trying not to fall asleep as some stupid merchant who’s never experienced any hardship in his entire overly-fed life drones on and on about how Lanling Jin should compensate him because a stray fierce corpse scared him and made him spill his tea. Or something. It’s that sometimes, despite being a sect leader, there’s still nothing Jin Ling can do to help people. In which Jin Ling turns to masked vigilantism as a way to more effectively help people. Somehow it doesn't all end in disaster.

Sandu Shengshou and Hanguang-Jun had, infamously, long since mastered the art of existing in the same space without ever acknowledging one another directly, and Wei Wuxian, having never in either of his lives met a delicate social situation he didn't blithely barrel through if it suited him, happily chattered enough to fill what might have been awkward silences in any other company. But in the end it was not Wei Wuxian who ultimately prompted the cessation of the cultivation world's coldest and most famous feud. or: The Badass Teamup of Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji

“Oh my God, shut up Danny, you went to play for the Habs, you don’t know my pain.” Or, Claude Giroux gets traded to the Penguins.