Five times Beijing 2008 Olympics Gold Medalist Tony Stark thinks it's going to be no more difficult a job to get ready for London 2012, than what he has just achieved. That is, of course, before Coach Fury comes to visit, and offers him a once-in-a-lifetime chance to be a part of something much bigger than himself. Swimming AU.

Antonia Carter Stark takes no shit and no prisoners.

When he takes the rap for a crime committed by Barney and the Swordsman, Clint is charged as an adult at 17 and spends the next four years of his life without protection in prison. Enter one Neal Caffrey, who knows how to charm his way to whatever he wants or needs, and Clint's life gets a lot more interesting. Pretty much, the story of Clint in prison, Clint getting out, and Clint, like always, finding his way to SHIELD, and Phil.

Patrick answers his phone by reflex, but he can't pry open his eyes, so he has no idea who he's talking to. Or not talking, exactly, because all he can manage is a sort of groan. OR: the one where Tazer and Kaner have a baby via Stanley Cup

“We have received confirmation that there is a hostage situation in progress at a warehouse compound two hours out of Los Angeles, following a multiple-vehicle pileup on Highway 101 this morning...” The one in which Stiles has lived to (legal) adulthood and, along the way, become a bit of a badass himself.

Geno will always love his country. Even if it doesn't always love him back.

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.

Well, Wolfies it has been quite a semester. I started this blog to document my triumphs, trials, and of course, all the gossip I encountered as the sole female Radio Broadcasting major at BHU. Between co-hosting the morning show with Danny Mahealani, keeping my relationship with radio tech Vernon Boyd under wraps, and saving the department from crippling budget cuts--me and a group I surreptitiously named “The Wolf Pack”--managed to save the day. Until next time. xxx Erica

He promised Oshie he would make the fucking audition tape, so he did. And against all fucking odds, he got a callback from a woman who sounded like even she couldn’t believe she was making the call. Because that’s Jonny’s life now. or, a Bachelor AU, where film star Patrick Kane is going on 88 Dates and Jonny goes on more than a few of them.

"I think I met someone," John says at his next therapist's appointment. "A friend." "Really?" Ella asks. She sounds pleased, and also surprised. "What's his name?" John nods. "Really. His name's Sherlock. He -- he plays the same game as me, the online one. We party together."

When diplomats around the world are murdered in a series of mysterious explosions, it's up to Natasha Romanov and her special team of badass ladies to find the culprit and save the day.

Honor among thieves, or something close enough.

There are many things on Jack's mind. Namely: hockey, hockey, Bitty, hockey, anxiety, hockey, hockey, anxiety, Bitty, hockey, hockey, anxiety, and hockey.

"We should talk about Eliot," Alec says, at the same time Parker says, "We should have sex in a hammock."

Two very different people fall in love with a boy called death. Finding each other is chance. Falling for each other isn’t. This is their story. (Or in which Nico is Death with a capital D, Annabeth is a serial killer, and Percy is the poor schmuck who falls for both of them.)

Iruka saw his first execution barely a year after the Kyuubi. The executioner was a wire thin ninja in combat uniform, one eye covered and his hair almost white in the brutal sun.

Slytherins–- this is a group who laughs when Neville falls off a broom and breaks his wrist. And what if we had Harry there, who had always been the one laughed at, who had a nice thirst to prove himself, who had green trim on his robes instead of red? This Harry still stepped out in front of Malfoy’s best sneer and demanded Neville’s Rememberall back–- though he got a detention from it, not a Seekership. When kids in the Slytherin Common Room tossed jeers at the pudgy feet of Millicent Bulstrode, Harry rose up to do something about it. When Quirrell shouted “troll in the dungeons, thought you ought to know,” and Harry overheard that there was a girl in the bathroom crying, he still ran off to make sure she got out okay. Harry did not ask Millicent to come with him; this was not a boy who asked for things. When he had asked for things, Dudley had laughed, Petunia had scowled, and Vernon had said, “no,” or just kept reading the newspaper like he hadn’t heard anything at all. But when Harry went, Millicent bunched up her robes in her hands and followed.

"No, see, we've all been trained a certain way. The training system is traditional; it's centuries old. Nobody taught you. You ballist like it's got nothing to do with war at all." A sleepy, extraordinary smile crawls over Victor's face. "Nobody else does it like that. That's why we're going to win." [fic & art collab with inknose]

Nana heralds from a family of serial killers. She neglects to mention this to her husband, but when Iemitsu makes it clear he doesn’t expect Tsuna to join his family, Nana brings him into hers. This becomes a problem when Iemitsu changes his mind...

"I don't mess with the fae," Otabek says. "I'm not asking you to mess with them," JJ flat-out lies.

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)

Edward grabs Marcoh’s arm and says, “That stone – what can it heal, exactly?” The old man’s eyebrows rise to his forehead, and he looks like he already knows the answer when he goes, “Why do you ask, Edward?” There's no metallic footsteps so there’s no way Al’s close enough to hear them. “I’m sick,” he admits after another moment of deliberation.

He was completely unfazed by Ryuji’s doubt. “I can be very charming,” Akira assured him magnanimously. “I’ll have you know I’m a man of many talents. I’m sure any number of my skills will help me win him over.” Ryuji raised a sardonic eyebrow at him. “‘Talents?’ What, you mean like breaking and entering, assault, and hostage negotiation?” A blank, glasses-blocked stare. “You don’t think those will help?”

An overview ficlet and meta-essay that covers several potential alternate endings to DA2. Anders versus Meredith headcanon/meta and universe alteration meets a choose-your-own-adventure proposal. (From fighting Red Lyrium Meredith to protect the Gallows, to potential Evil!Hawke choices with alternate ultimate antagonists.)

"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.

This was not his bedroom; this was definitely not his apartment. It was a single room, with a small table across from the bed and a fireplace on the back wall. When he looked out the window, he could see evergreen trees and the chatty bird who wanted everyone to know what his plans for the day were. The walls and floor were plain wood, and a small painting of a tree hung on the wall. At the end of the bed—which was not Brian’s normal bed—Pat looked about two minutes away from an anxiety attack. Mentally, Brian gave Pat a pass for what he would usually consider an overreaction. “Are we,” Brian started, then tried again: “Is this—?” Pat nodded, holding out a small yellow pouch with a parsnip drawn on the front and an open letter addressed to Brian.

A fake relationship for the sake of revenge had sounded like a good idea to Wanyin at the time.

In the wake of intracity warfare, Jiang Cheng finds himself engaged by proxy to Nie Huaisang in an effort to build ties between their sects. The fragile peace is short-lived, however, and with the strands of magic and the alliances that hold the city together fraying apart, Jiang Cheng must decide where he stands in order to save what he loves.

Her prompt was to write something about WWX and LWJ ascending to become deities; I took the liberty of slightly crossing over MDZS with Heaven Official's Blessing for the worldbuilding, and set myself the goal of bringing a smile to the faces of Jiang Cheng and Lan Xichen. So: a story in which the newly-ascended bunny gods set out to give Jiang Cheng's love life a boost, and find a way of cheering up Lan Xichen along the way.

Every student of House Mandrake is assigned a study partner, a counterpart from House Valerian. Lan Wangji suspects, with some outrage, that he's been given the troublemaker.

Jin Guangyao lifts his head and smiles. "I'm considering a problem." "Can I be of any assistance with it?" He drops a kiss on Lan Xichen's chest. With the nail of one finger he lightly traces the characters for irony on Lan Xichen's side. "Not this one, er-ge."

The melody gets a little clearer when he breaks out of the trees, and Jingyi changes course with certainty, barreling down the back hill and through the Cloud Recesses, dodging scandalized disciples left and right. He throws open the doors to the Receiving Hall without announcement and bows nearly double, eyes on the floor instead of on the shocked faces of the Mei delegation and the impenetrable gaze of the Chief Cultivator. "Forgive this disciple," Jingyi shouts, because he's going to get punished for rule breaking regardless. "From the back hill, Hanguang-jun, there is a song in the wind!" Lan Jingyi comes of age.

It's been a reasonably quiet night thus far, enough so that Peter's well ahead of the game on his usual patrol route, nothing really pinging his radar until he reached this quiet strip of apartment buildings. Only now that he's here, he can't figure out where the danger's coming from, or even what his senses are classifying as danger this time. There's got to be something, though...right?

Yizhou moves to Beijing. Ji Li helps him adjust.

His was a boutique-y set-up, the sixth branch of Cultivation, a fairly successful local corporation, tucked away in between the hills of their city. Song Lan owns a plant shop and takes care of all things living. A reincarnation AU.

"Tell me about what I need to do," Qin Su says, steeling herself, forcing her anxiety down. She doesn't have a choice, she has to put aside her fears and do this. Jin Guangyao scoops back strands of her hair and twists them deftly into braids. "It can't be too scripted, or he won't believe it. Nie Mingjue values honesty and forthrightness, and despises liars and schemers." Qin Su exhales sharply at the confirmation of what she'd already known, the potential danger that lies ahead. "So I need to seduce him without letting him know I'm seducing him?" [Fix-it AU in which QS finds out the truth of her parentage and plots with JGY to get her a husband. Things Ensue.]

“Well, I don't see it,” Huaisang had said, and then he'd shoved his hand down the front of his pants right there in front of Nie Mingjue. “I—oh, I have the other thing now,” he said, and he sounded...intrigued. Nie Mingjue had quickly excused himself.

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.

"Really, Xie Lian, you don't even jerk it??" Shi Qingxuan insists. "I mean it's none of my business and you can tell me to fuck off, but holy shit, lady." Xie Lian laughs, feeling her cheeks color, and shrugs again. "I don't know, something about the mechanics of it just never made sense to me," she admits. "And anyway that's time I should be spending studying." -- It comes out that Xie Lian's never had an orgasm. She goes to Hua Cheng for help. • theyre lesbians

Wen Kexing stumbles upon the fact that Han Ying apparently ruins every one of his orgasms - because it would be *disrespectful* otherwise. He's not about to ignore *that*, now is he.

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.

Malkin’s table stays until closing time, still lingering over that bottle of Beluga when Sid comes out of the kitchen to start his nightly closing routine. He goes through the same checklist of jobs he does every night after the kitchen closes but before the bar does, tries to keep his mind on the tasks at hand, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t notice Malkin’s gaze tracking his movements, if he pretended that he can’t feel the heat of Malkin’s eyes on him as he moves around behind the bar. Sid tells himself to keep his head down, but when he does look up, just to test his theory, Malkin doesn’t even bother to look away, just holds Sid’s gaze, direct and unblinking with just the tiniest hint of a smile. The thing is, Sid’s notoriously bad at this stuff. He’s never had any working gaydar that he’s aware of, and he’s been wrong – very wrong – about this kind of thing probably more often, in his life, than he’s been right. So he assures himself this is just another one of those occasions where he’s definitely reading something incorrectly, imagining things, because there’s no way the captain of the Pittsburgh Penguins is, whatever – checking him out. That would be ridiculous.

When Sid goes down during the game against Capitals he knows the verdict long before the doctors tell him. With the rest of his career at stake, as well as the potential of a healthy life after retirement, he’s running out of options. When Sergei Gonchar reaches out with a questionable offer, Sid has a difficult time refusing.

The first time Nicke sees a mature pair of player wings in person—not pre-downs, not rookie wings, but a full wingspan—it's the April before the draft, and he's in a dressing room in Latvia, trying not to be star-struck by his own teammates. Or: The NHL gives you wings.

Beau was willing to bet that a lot of people's weird superstitions started out like his. Something that had been a dumb bet or stupid competition in college or Juniors, but then fuck if they didn't score that night. So it became a thing, and since enough of them have weird fucking things they'd rather not get chirped about, it just becomes normal. All that said, Beau probably could have braced himself a little better for the inevitable, which was Flower pausing in his rapid-fire and unintelligible conversation with Tanger to grin like the cat that had caught the canary and ask, in the most delighted tone possible, "Sunshine, are you wearing panties?"

"It can't get any worse," said Nicklas Backstrom in an interview before the first round of the 2018 playoffs. He should have known to be careful of the jinx something like that could bring, but now it's there, and Nicke and the team are determined to get rid of it by any means necessary.

The Republic sends a combat photographer to be attached to the 212th until further notice, citing the need for a morale boost. The clones make up a fake clone, citing the absolute fact that it is very funny. Somehow, these two things save the galaxy.

Nolan’s body has never been his friend.