Sidney’s wedding day doesn’t go quite as he’d planned. When he’d bothered to imagine it at all, he’d thought of a nice June wedding in Nova Scotia, outdoors with the sun streaming down. He hadn’t imagined this hurried affair on the tarmac on a rainy and unseasonably cool day in early September, a month after his twenty-fifth birthday.

Growing up in the Mafia isn't necessarily an easy or kind thing. The earth spins, life moves on, and Tsuna finds himself taking slow steps forward, back and forward again. (Or, ten times that Tsuna remembers it being easier to have sex with Xanxus rather than dealing with the insanity of the world around him)

"Maybe I'll stay," Ramsey says. "Just for a little while. Since I haven't got anywhere else I need to be." Or: Ramsey isn't looking for a home, but one finds her anyway.

It happened like this: Jin Ling was a sect leader now, which was, and Jingyi really meant this, fucking hilarious. There were few things funnier, in his honest opinion. Because he was young, and inexperienced, and also — it had to be said — a real shithead, there was apparently some belief amongst his advisors that the best way forward, to promote the picture of a stable, mature sect leader who absolutely did not cry at the drop of a hat, was for Jin Ling to get married. - OR: Jin Ling and Jingyi get engaged. Things spiral from there.

Crumpled at the base of Koi Tower’s long stairs for the second time, Jin Guangyao presses his face into the stone, takes a deep breath despite re-broken ribs, and arranges his features as carefully as he knows how. Then he stands, moving carefully around the pain, and bows deep, arms held straight and true. The walk back up the steps to his father's side is painful enough to wipe the smile from his face; it is not painful enough to prevent him re-taking his place as seneschal, bowing again at the top of the steps. As he straightens, he prioritizes his plans for his father’s demise over all else.

If Wen Qing had realized sooner that she wasn’t in the afterlife or hallucinating, but had actually traveled back in time, she’d have done things differently. There’d have been less murder, for one thing.

AU: Sidney Crosby is a foster kid growing up in Nova Scotia. Geno Malkin is a Russian transplant. They play hockey. And also have sex. I claim to know very little about the junior hockey league and even less about Canadian Childrens Aid Services.

Despite his best efforts, Andrew finds himself a family.

“All right,” Ned Stark says. “You weren’t supposed to hear that. No one was supposed to, but I guess it’s my own damned fault for not keeping it to myself. Now, I know that if I told you to forget this you’d try, but I remember – I remember how it was when I was your age, myself. Boys of seven can forget that kind of promise easily, if they don’t know why they’re making it.” He takes in another breath. “Robb,” he says, his voice dropping so low it’s barely audible, “do you love your brother?” Or: in which Robb knows about Jon's true heritage all along.