Stiles’ first memory of his mom is green. Her green eyes, her green dresses, her green scarves, her green blouses and her green barrettes.

"What? Why would-- Derek, why would your daemon encourage mine to touch you?" Stiles fakes calm well, but his heart gives him away. "Because Luminera is a deviant." He shrugs. He accepted Luminera's reckless behavior years ago.

Kaner's looking down at the kid, though, frowning. He crouches down. "Hey, kid, where are your parents?" The kid's bottom lip juts out and starts wobbling. Fuck, that means he's going to start crying, right? "Oh shi—oot, kid, don't cry," Kaner says. "I mean, if you don't know where they are, we can find 'em?" "Kaner," Sharpy presses. "That's Saad."

You spend the hours after you wake up pacing your hive, your stomach threatening to upturn and your bulge threatening to unsheathe. You're excited to the point that you're dripping with more than just sweat, yes, but you're also beyond nervous. Besides what you assume are the usual worries -- what if he doesn't show up, what if he takes one look at your butlerbot and is so unimpressed -- there's also the tiny little fact that you've never done any of this before. At all.

Geno will maintain until his dying day that the first time he sets the house on fire is definitely not his fault.

["Dude," Jonny says. "You don't need to tell my girlfriend about the like seven times total we hooked up."] Lindsey is mistaken, Jonny is confused, and Kaner is uninformed (but has talked all of this out with his girlfriend like sensible people do).

A genderswapped/girls in the NHL series. Possibly circling around an enormous fic about Sidney Crosby's adventures in being the first female drafted no. 1 in the NHL and also to play in a non-exhibition game, starting at about age 13 and moving to the present. Maybe I'll write it this summer, because it needs a lot of research. While that's on hold, this is mostly just girl!kaner/Tazer porn and, apparently, character stamps about playoff beards or the lack thereof.

Ryan supposes that’s fair, if he was dating someone, he wouldn’t have put so much thought into choreographing a threesome either.

Do you remember the first time you saw the stars? The first time you looked up and realized there were an infinite number of worlds that humanity had left to discover? I don’t know how old I was when I first yearned to go up there; it’s all I’ve ever known. And I can tell you this — even though I have seen more worlds than I ever imagined, even though I have sacrificed so much to do this, I have never lost that desire to explore, or that profound amazement that I feel when I look up into the infinite wonder of the skies. - Captain Manon Rhéaume

Right, so, for whatever reason I’m too wound up to do any real writing tonight, so this is going to be tumblr-style not!fic of the Bruce Banner/James Rhodes story Iron Man 3 made me want, played fast and loose in this window. I may even write this fic someday! But if not, we’ll always have this tumblr post.

"I kind of... accidentally fantasized about Karkat while we were doing it. Which I do sometimes, not when we're messing around, just like-- uh, fuck, look, I'm--" Terezi puts a finger over your lips and you stammer to a stop. She nestles closer and sighs happily. "You too, huh?" You stare at the ceiling in bewilderment. Whatever response you were expecting, that was not it.

ust a brief missing scene between Pepper and Tony prior to the end of Iron Man 3.

IM3 SPOILERS! My Bot Oriented post-IM3 fic

Steve Rogers just wanted to sell good, nourishing, cheap food from his food truck. Now the crazy fusion chefs from TOBRU are calling him a hipster, the avant garde restaurant "Shield" across the street has declared war on chains, and...well, then there's Thor, who thinks Steve's habit of licking food is weird.

It's a whirlwind pale romance, unbelievable even by Troll Hollywood standards.

You start hanging around troll 4chan for the Mediaconflagration links. You, uh, stay for the porn.

It is important to keep in mind that when a human says, "I hate you," it is most certainly not a come-on. The only thing more horrific than human apathy is human hatred. They do, after all, have two words for friendship. Or so we thought.

AKA the one with the phone sex. In which Kaner finds out Jonny wants to fuck him and is pretty okay with that turn of events. Phone sex, picnic baskets, crazy eyes, hockey and insanity ensue.

Jeff made a good decision choosing hockey over figure skating. That doesn't mean he's let go of it completely.

jonny washes patrick's hair; patrick doesn't hate it.

Patrick writes his name on Jonny's to-send Christmas cards. It leads to feelings.

When NHL star Patrick Kane's off-ice antics finally get him into trouble for the last time, captain and best friend Jonathan Toews has one final trump card to keep him from being traded: marriage...to each other. But between being the first openly gay hockey players, facing down a lockout, and the fact that Patrick has been in love with Jonny for years, will these two ever be able to work past their miscommunication to realize that their marriage may not be as much of a sham as they think it is? Written for the Harlequin Big Bang 2013.

This is not the behavior Stiles was expecting from a werewolf he’s been dream invading. To be honest, Stiles expected more blood, bruises and begging. He was not expecting creepy Derek to go to sleep next to him.

"I can't even TELL you how incredibly insanely JEALOUS I am of my own daughter."

When the Becket brothers were chosen out of nearly 200 other candidates, Yancy wasn't surprised in the least. You didn't need a genius level IQ or a football scholarship to pilot a jaeger. All you needed was a good partner. And Raleigh was the best.

It starts like this: Well, okay, Patrick has no idea how it actually starts. But as pertains to him (in other words, the important part), it goes a little something like so: America, being a nation composed in large part of a melting pot of immigrants who may or may not have taken over land already owned by others using less-than-savory means, doesn’t have much of a magical national identity. Much less a magical continental identity. There’s no grand heritage going back thousands of years. Magical families home-schooled all their kids until, like, the 1800’s, and tough for the muggle-born, apparently. Hopefully you got noticed by someone who knew what to do with you before you got burned at the stake. Since you probably can’t control your powers, sport.

sometimes you have to go down before you can go out.

Carts acts all shocked about Mike being willing to live with him, which, seriously. "Where did you pick up this idea that I'm a douchebag?" demands Mike. "If anything, you should be the one skeeved out about living with a dom." Carts snorts. "I've built up an immunity to your skeeviness." "Then we don't have a problem," says Mike. "Come on, Arnold's gonna flip his shit."

Kane blows past Toews' D and circles around, looking for an opening... and he finds one, taking a hard slapper, and Toews gets a piece of that.

Patrick is actually rooting against the Blackhawks the day he wins the contest, which makes it kind of embarrassing when the jumbotron shows him going nuts about it in his Sabres jersey. (AU in which Kaner is a Blackhawks fan who wins a contest to spend a week with the team.)

Kaner tries to fuck his way out of love. That goes as well as you might imagine. That's my summary. But liketheroad's summary is also applicable: In which THERE IS A BACHELOR AUCTION TO SAVE ALL THE PUPPIES OF CHICAGO AND TAZER IS THE ONE WHO HAS TO SAVE THOSE PUPPIES AND KANER TRIES TO FUCK HIS WAY OUT OF LOVE BUT OH TOO BAD FOR YOU KANER, YOU HAVE TOO MANY FEELINGS FOR THAT.

In which Patrick Kane gets a little hysterically obsessed with Jonathan Toews' sexual prowess.

Evgeniya Malkin was absolutely not expecting to hook up at the NHL Awards.

For fifteen years, Sidney has lived on the palace grounds in Petrograd. In that time, he has spoken to Prince Evgeni five times.

Unable to speak due to a genetic defect, Aleksis Kaidanovsky finds his voice, and all that he never knew he longed for, through the Soviet Jaeger Program. Here, on the brink of the apocalypse, he finds the place where he truly belongs.

The one person Geno wants to build a family with already has one.

Stiles turns to look at her, schools his face into an expression of exasperation, but then there’s a rush—a current, a wave, a familiar tendril of smart, precise, hot pink and sharp heels and wicked smartness—and—

Hermann really digs Newt's tattoos. This suits both of them just fine.

They've been hooking up for more than a year, undefined and mostly unspoken, when Johnny first speaks French in bed with Kaner.

They're in their hotel room after the Oilers game when Kaner asks, "Why does this whole meditation thing matter so much to you, anyway?" "It helps me focus and relax," Johnny says, hoping that'll satisfy him. But Kaner's eyes widen. "You mean you'd act even weirder if you didn't meditate? Shit, dude – now I kind of want to see what you'd be like without it." "You really, really don't," Johnny says.

One is a majorly kinky adult man in his prime, who got to go to nightclubs and met people and had one night stands and learned through trial and error, and is now fairly relaxed about his needs. The other is a teenager who thanks to the internet and his own reasoning has a lot of intellectual understanding and nothing else and zero real social experience, and the same needs and instincts and no outlet for them.

The one where Sidney and Geno get drunk-married in Vegas, and the Pittsburgh Penguins go all in.

And of course, because Sharpy is the most ill-mannered Canadian ever, he opens up the newspaper like he doesn't have the most entertaining thing in Chicago across the table from him anyway. He's totally pretending to read it, just to make Patrick salty, but two can play at that game, so he snatches the Sunday inserts out of the folds, smirking at Sharpy. But he glances down and staring up at him, looking like, all of eighteen and strangely soft and sweet is Jonathan fucking Toews.

For the longest time this fic was unofficially titled 'Kaner's not a hooker but Tazer probably wants him to be', and I really can't think of a better way to summarise it than that. Many words of Tazer fantasising, pining, jerking off, and paying for sex, because that's apparently how he rolls.

For their tenth birthday, Stiles had gotten Allison a mug from a kiosk at the mall with AREN’T YOU GLAD WE EVOLVED OUT OF NEIGHBORING CELLS on one side and a picture from their school trip to the zoo, the one where Allison was hitting a goat trying to eat Stiles’ shirt, on the other. It’s such a metaphor for their entire existence that Allison puts it on the mantle of every subsequent house that they live in, next to their parents’ wedding portrait.

Normally, Laura is perfectly willing to delicately coach her baby brother through the endless labyrinth of his emotional manpain, but Laura’s dissertation is due in two days and she just flat out doesn’t have the time.

Stiles wants to win for America, okay? He wants to bone that constipated expression off of Derek Hale’s face on a bed strewn with American flags while Bruce Springsteen plays in the background and a bald eagle watches through the window with a single tear rolling down its cheek.

Derek's fourth Chase will be his last if he doesn't catch an omega this time. He's starting to doubt this whole soul-mate thing anyway, at least until someone from his past shows up and gives him the run of his life.

Zack has the best worst ideas.

Their luck is running just about average.