Thursdays are for boxing. Thursdays are for Nie Mingjue. He pretends, sometimes, that they’re peers, even though they’re in different weight classes and always will be. He likes spitting and snarling at Nie Mingjue just to see what he’ll do, to push and shove at the boundaries. Nie Mingjue, it feels like sometimes, has self control the way that ponds have ice in the late fall- delicately and temporarily and easily disturbed.

It feels, sometimes, like Jiang Cheng's waiting to have a bad day so he has an excuse. It’s a Tuesday and Jiang Cheng finds himself huddled under the portico in front of Nie Mingjue’s impressive double-doors, wondering what the fuck he’s doing with his life. He’s drenched to the bone, all of his formal clothes sticking to all of his skin, waiting for someone to answer the door before he freezes to death. Or maybe he’ll just freeze to death! Maybe that’s the option at play here. Considering how the rest of his night is going, he doesn’t think it’d actually be all that surprising.

Sometimes Jin Zixuan's life is complicated. When it comes to Jiang Yanli, though, things just seem to make perfect sense. Jin Zixuan loves his wife very much, but it is undeniable that she’s a little evil. Considering how terrible her brothers are, he counts himself lucky that her evil manifests, generally, in the form of playful mischief as opposed to, for example, putting beetles in his sheets. Unlike some Jiang siblings he could name.

Hardison is 100% certain that there is no way Bruce Wayne could possibly be Batman. But maybe they should check it out, just in case.

Team Leverage plays D&D. The game gets personal.

Wen Ning has lived as a sentient fierce corpse for about four hundred years. Going back in time could have been an accident, but isn't.

“This planet,” Mace says quietly, “is not a place that was meant for you.” Kix doesn’t move from where he’s sitting, just watches the shadows shift and shiver as the trees stir around them. There's no wind, just the steady rumble of thunder above them, the flickers of the lightning, and hiss of leaves and stems and branches moving on their own, bending away from the violet glow of Mace's lightsaber, the muddy hem of his robes. “I think it suits me just fine,” Kix says, and it’s soft because he doesn’t need to shout. There are better ways of being angry right now.

“No,” Sabé hisses, catching the edge of Kycina's red hood and dragging her back down behind cover.

“No, please repeat that,” Lao Nie said. He had his fingers drilled into his temples and was rubbing them in nice, calming circular motions that were doing absolutely nothing to stem his headache. “I’m not sure I heard you correctly. What was that about...did you really say 'enrichment and stimulation'?” “It’s about Wen Zhuliu,” Nie Huaisang chirped, and Nie Mingjue, standing next to him and holding his hand in encouragement, nodded in agreement. “And how he's been ever since he joined the Nie sect. We haven’t been using him enough, or at least not in the way he’s accustomed to being used. So we’re worried that he’s starting to feel like we don’t appreciate him.” “Don’t appreciate him.” “Uh-huh. Because he did all that work to learn the Core-Melting Technique, and you almost never let him use it, so we’re worried that maybe he’s – you know – da-ge, what’s the word…” “Unfulfilled.”

A high, sustained, familiar scream rises above the treetops, and Rex pauses. He looks over at Cody, finds Cody already looking back, and does his absolute best not to grin.

“Well this is awkward,” Quinlan says, raising a hand to stop his nipple tassels from swinging.

The first time Jin Guangshan mentioned it, Jin Guangyao felt a great surge of relief – at last, he thought. At last someone else that isn’t me notices it!

“You know,” Shaak says, and watches the man jerk upright with wide eyes. She smiles careful not to show teeth, and pulls herself out of the water just enough to fold her arms on the stone, resting her chin on them. “I usually eat Men like you.”

“Barriss?” Ahsoka hisses, bewildered. Barriss, in a fancier dress than Ahsoka has ever seen her in, covered in tattoos and dripping jewelry, freezes stock-still on the stairs into the casino, and Ahsoka feels the bright-sharp flare of her panic a half-second before she spins to face Ahsoka.

“I thought it was supposed to be warm on this planet,” Ahsoka says, pulling her jacket a little tighter around her shoulders.

Jango's eyes flicker up, down, up again, and it’s meant to be dismissive, but Shaak knows wariness when she sees it, and it makes her smile just a little. “Lady, I just tried to put a slug through that fancy headdress of yours.” With a chuckle, Shaak takes a step closer. “Fett, I've been a Jedi for decades. If I held a grudge against everyone who had tried to kill me, I would have more enemies than you.”

“No,” Padmé says, breathless but full of iron. “Hands on the floor.”

This was supposed to be a vacation.

The Ghost Valley and Prince Jin's forces have been at war for a while now; but there was nothing to suggest the Valley was so close to infiltrating the palace. Nothing, until they were flooding the grounds and taking captives. Nothing, until the Ghost Valley Guzhu himself laid eyes on Zhou Zishu and deemed him a worthy prize. *Don't be a sore loser, Wangye. To the victor go the spoils.*

“Oh,” Jaster manages, and it cracks right in half.

“I can’t believe you ruined my boots,” Leia says, outraged, and pushes Dooku’s face further into the mud.

Shen Qingqiu's /r/relationships post.

“Stiles, what happened?” Derek says as sternly as he can (which isn’t very). Nevertheless, there is a pause on the line, and a small sigh. “I was just…having some Stiles personal time, you know? And…I may have gotten something stuck. Um, in me.” “In you?” Derek says incredulously. “What do you…oh.” Enlightenment strikes. “Like, in your…” “Yes, in my butt!” Stiles snaps.

Very occasionally, the captain of a hockey team goes into heat and needs to be lovingly gangbanged by his team to knock him up with as many babies as possible. This year it's Sid's turn.

“You know how I said I, uh. Spend a lot of time in the lake? Back home?” “Yes,” Zhenya said cautiously. Yes, Sid had told Zhenya that he was an inhuman fish creature. Zhenya had mostly recovered.

Percy has a problem. Annabeth wouldn't help him. All his other brief girlfriends or one night stands wouldn't help him. Luckily, his bro Jason is willing to step up to the plate and ensure that Percy is having all of his needs met.

I like to daydream about Mustang and Ed's stupid adventures in diplomacy after they've taken control of the country. Emphasis on stupid. Ed is trans because 1) because and 2) silentwalrus' headcanons have seeped into the groundwater at this point.

This whole thing had started back in their first year in the league, when Alex had dragged Sydney out drinking with what looked like every Russian in New York City after one of their million joint press-and-photo-shoot events. Everyone wanted a piece of the first two women to play in the NHL, and if they could take a piece of both of them at the same time, so much the better.

Alex is giving him a confused look, and Sid realizes that he has failed to ask a pretty basic question. “Alex? Have you done this before? Not heat, obviously, just—been a guide, had a guide, whatever.” Alex smiles – a sardonic, twisting thing. “Don’t you know, Sidney Crosby? I’m bad, terrible captain, most selfish alpha, won’t be heat-guide like good Canadian captain.” He laughs, and it sounds more like a cough. “I’m think everybody know, they talk about so much.”

“Is normal,” Geno says firmly. “Nealer has stupid hair, Tanger has dumb tattoos, Sid has no dick.” Sid laughs. “I have six dicks, I don’t wear them for hockey,” he says.

Sid came over for dinner a few nights later with an unanticipated bouquet of pink roses and hovered by the kitchen island while Zhenya put the flowers in water. Zhenya’s heart pounded in his chest. Flowers were a clutching gift; pink flowers— “Geno, uh,” Sid said, and Zhenya’s hands trembled slightly as he fussed with the blossoms. “I know it’s way too soon, but. Do you want to?”

sea_salt_waves said: I've been having all these feelings lately about a human Geno falling for sexually-repressed incubus!Sid who pays sex workers to jerk off for him and has never been in a relationship before, with all kinds of insecurities and pining… ... I didn't stick to the prompt perfectly, but it was definitely my inspiration. I hope you enjoy!

Geno was in pre-heat when he showed up at the rink: Sid could smell it on him. Geno swanned into the locker room with his head held high, kind of glowing with self-satisfaction, and smelling ripe with it, right on the edge of tipping over.

The package arrives the day after Sid gets back to Pittsburgh. Sid recognizes the discreet wrapping, and the lack of a return address is so obvious they might as well have printed Sex Toys R Us all over the damn box.

Peters clapped him on the shoulder. "Try to find a way to...if not relax, then decompress. Take a day for yourself once in a while, don't worry about hockey or school or anything." Sid hesitated. "Is that an order, or...?"

“Sid,” Geno says. “Team lonely.”

In which Sharpy bothers Jonny with his camera, and Jonny, well, likes it a lot.

Jonny shows Patrick how it works. And by "it", I mean his dick. Jonny's, but temporarily Patrick's.

Sid’s been dropping subtle clues for years, it feels like, but Geno’s never picked up what he’s thrown down. So when the perfect opportunity presents itself—well, he’d have to be an idiot not to take advantage. The conversational topic is Things That Have Disappointed You in the Bedroom. Sid has this all wrapped up, to be honest. “Guys with big dicks,” he says flatly, and Tanger spits his beer all over the table. (OR: The Bedroom Adventures of Sidney Crosby, Troll)

In which Geno is a famous porn star and Sid needs money to pay for hockey gear. “Did you just introduce yourself to my ass?”

Geno doesn’t quite understand why Sid likes to keep sex to a minimum during the pre-game period. Sid claims that he likes to focus on just feeling his muscles move and thinking about getting his head in the right space to play. Geno would much rather just get off. As a result, Geno can’t really commiserate with Sid about how his sex drive picking up is a problem, which might make him a bad boyfriend, except for the fact that he totally accepts being cut off for a lot of the play-offs so he’s an excellent boyfriend, thank you very much.

Geno and Sid are stuck missing the All-Star Game because they've had their genitals temporarily rearranged. It happens. They make the breast of it.

Jonny pretty much knows when he’s playing well. Pat likes to tell him anyways. (In which Kaner needs to chill.)

Patrick loses his voice for a few weeks in the summer.

“I presume,” Mace says with a flicker of amusement, ghost-white fluttering in the corner of his vision, “that that relief isn't solely for my own benefit.” Ponds has the decency to look chagrined. “I'm glad you're safe, sir. When the droid hit you…” He pauses, meets Mace's eyes, and his expression is a little rueful, a little grim. “Not everyone took it well.”

When he’d admitted his problem to Shouta in an embarrassing split-second decision that he’d almost regretted—because what twenty-two year old up-and-coming pro hero had never managed to get off before, seriously—he hadn’t expected his best friend to bluntly offer to help. But now. Oh, now. Hizashi felt like he was going to explode, and not in a good way.

The drug is called heatwave. It supposedly emulates werewolf heats on humans. And yes, Stiles is stupid enough to take it on a dare.

Derek’s had a rough life up until this point. He’s beginning to learn perspective, and in the scheme of things, being a temporary woman is pretty minor.

Sid growls. He can’t help it. It’s wrong. Malkin is whimpering and crying and struggling against his restraints. His scent is all fear and chemicals and something deeper, something dark and oppressing. Sid thinks it’s anger but it’s too bitter to try and get a proper read on.

Geno is a beta. That doesn't mean he isn't the team's omega.