The naiad moved in shortly after Sid finished his house, that first summer, a week after he filled the pool. He noticed some splashing one morning while he was eating breakfast, and when he went outside to investigate, she popped her head up out of the water, clung to the side of the pool, and hissed at him. “Uh,” Sid said, still holding a slice of toast in one hand. Dew from the grass chilled his bare feet. “Are you—hi?”

A hockey rookie joins the campus drag troupe. Sasha didn’t know they even had a campus drag troupe. Sasha hasn’t been paying a lot of attention.

"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.

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?"

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.

This is an AU about a dick piercing.

Hockey is hockey, and politics is politics. There are kings of the game, and there are kings in their crowns and robes, and there isn't usually much in the way of overlap. Things change every day, though, depending on how you look at them. -- In which there is a small tragedy, a great success, and a lot to learn about someone Sasha thought he knew awfully well.

im gonna puke, he texts Zach, keeping an eye on the entrance to the kitchen. does he not wanna fuck you, Zach replies immediately, followed by, have you seen his dick yet

the slow slide of what life was, into something else Inspired by where nothing stays buried by addandsubtract.

Dylan’s breathing too hard when Zach picks up. He says, “Hey, I miss you.” “Not for sex reasons, obviously,” Zach says. “What is going on there?”

How to Survive Your First Year in the NHL When You've Been Appointed the Next One: a guide by Sidney Crosby, currently being field-tested by Connor McDavid. Support and occasional sarcastic remarks provided by Dylan Strome.

“I’m gonna be a groomsman,” Mitch says, then flops dramatically into the chair across from Auston, grabs Auston’s glass of whiskey, and takes a long sip. It burns as it goes down, and he makes a face. “Again.”

Dylan Strome is a late bloomer.

Out of every one hundred thousand births, less than one hundred are the result of male pregnancy, the box says. Connor’s either very lucky or very unlucky, it seems.

Connor mutters "I thought you didn't like me," out of the corner of his mouth. "I don't," Jack says. Connor's staring at him. "But you knew," he says. His words might be generic-- gave him a time and place, maybe, but not person. But Jack's weren't. Aren't.

The program finally starts and she can’t stop herself from grinning stupidly when she hears his voice. They ask about her and she leans forward, listening avidly. “We’re very happy to be together for the next eight years,” he tells them. Connor punches the air. “Hell yeah we are,” she tells the screen. “Have you guys just been texting each other happy faces emojis constantly?” Sid asks. “Yeah, lots of kisses,” Leon says and Connor freezes.

“I didn’t fuck Mitch,” Dylan hisses into Connor’s ear, squeezing Connor’s hips tightly. Connor’s right on the edge when Dylan presses his lips to Connor’s ear and whispers, viciously, “But I wanted to.”

Mitch breaks up with his girlfriend of two years on a Tuesday.

It’s fair, Noah thinks, to say he’s become an expert on how to handle Jack.

“Uh, so when you said you could help me, did you mean…” Connor thinks that he understood Leon alright, but making sure is probably a good idea. Leon looks a little sheepish. “Not to sound super cocky or whatever, but I’ve been told I’m pretty good in bed. I could show you a thing or two. If you want.”

Brandon kneels because it’s what he’s supposed to do. It’s part of being a rookie, it’s part of belonging, it’s part of hockey. So he kneels. (In which Brandon Saad falls in love. Twice.)

Nate looks away, shifting his weight between his feet. “Uh, it’s a contract,” he says. EJ stares at him for a moment. “I didn’t know you were seeing someone,” he blurts out once he’s done staring because that’s the only reasonable explanation for this. Nate looks up at him, confused and weirded out at the same time. “I’m not,” he says. “It’s for you,” he adds. In which the NHL requires subs over the age of 31 to be collared, and EJ finds himself in a tough spot.

Some things in life are certain. Roses are red, violets are blue, Connor McDavid excels at hockey and he really—really—doesn't like sex.

MycroftexMachina

Dylan can argue all he wants, but Alex is pretty sure it will work.

"I'm ready," Sid breathed out. Behind him, Geno gave a soft chuckle, and then leaned down to nuzzle at his neck. "You think you ready."

my hands they shake, my head it spins

Set after Madison, in a BDSM world, where management decides that sub Patrick needs a Dom to keep him in line. Jonny might be chirped a lot in the locker room for his "soft Dom" techniques, but he's not going to leave his best friends to the hands of a stranger... and maybe, just maybe, a little gentleness is what Patrick's needed all along...

ohnny sort of wants to ask, like — hey, Monny, are you hooking up? just to hear the answer. Just to be entirely certain that he's not making it up, or drawing the wrong conclusions. Sean's never told him what he gets up to in Toronto.

He’d been trying for ages not to go down this route, to ignore his instincts telling him this one, this one is perfect

Zhenya is curious. Now that he’s seen Sid at a vulnerable moment, he can’t get the image out of his mind.

Geno is ready to make the transition from his kink.com men in bondage subscription to real life.

When it happened, Zhenya didn’t realize that it meant anything. Now, he had the distinct impression that he and Sid were in a fight — but could you even be in a fight with a coworker that you sometimes had sex with? Originally written for day 17 of Kinkuary 2022 (tentacles), but definitely not posted in time.

You’ve got all this new equipment, bud," Sid said. "I need to figure out what I’m doing.” Sid’s curiosity was a horrible opponent. It had gotten them in this mess; had Sid not looked at Zhenya all those years ago with undisguised lust and said I’ve never kissed a guy, but…, then they would never have arrived in this tense standoff. Sid looked at Zhenya’s slit like he wanted to touch it, and Zhenya did not trust himself to stop that from happening.

Sid cradled the weighty feeling of his abdomen in his hand. It wasn’t round yet, he could just feel the developing firmness under his belly button, but it would get there, and soon. Sid knew it would. Geno had triggered something in him and there was no undoing it. Sid would have to ride this wave out.

He looks nervous for a moment and Taylor is about to step in, but Nico starts again. “Would you have sex with me?” “Um,” Taylor fumbles. His brain feels like it just went off the track in Mario Kart. “You want to hook up with me?” “I want you to teach me how to have sex,” Nico says, firmer this time. Taylor huffs out a laugh, because he sounds so sure of himself and what he wants, but also he must be fucking kidding.

Kaner walks in on his two best friends and for some reason he decides not to walk back out. Starring: possible actual sex god Patrick Sharp, Captain Seriously into being tied up, and a Kaner who never says no (just like the real thing!)

Jaime looked back at Robb with rage blazing through him and said, low and utterly flat, “The next time I see you, Stark, I’ll kill you.” “The next time I see you, Ser Jaime,” Robb said, “if you ask nicely, I’ll do it again.”

Gendry gets invited back for drinks with his boyfriend and his boyfriend's cousin and his boyfriend's cousin's boyfriend, and then things get... out of hand.

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.

Jaime didn’t like the Starks at all. He didn’t like their earnestness and honesty and prudishness, he didn’t like their cold heavy-walled castle, he didn’t like their frozen block of a realm, and he especially didn’t like Robb Stark, who had saved his son’s life and been kind to him and got him to sleep, and what business of his was it to have done any of those things?

"Stay with me," Tim asks in a rush. "I... Bruce can't lose you again. I need to know you're alive and well." Jason scoffs. "He nearly killed me, I don't think he cares." "Doesn't matter. I think he cares, so I'm offering you a deal. Come to my place. Sleep, shower, get something to eat. Maybe stick around for longer. Just stop... Stop staring at the ground like you're thinking about jumping without a line."

When people start dying on the ship, Bakugou has to rush to find out what is going on. Along the way, he has to deal with the grief of losing the people he loves, and the fear that he might be next. At least, he has Kirishima by his side...

For most people, dying and waking up in your eight-year-old body is a second chance at life. For Dabi, it is a chance to make his shitty father’s life a living hell. Or: Dabi sucks at this whole time travelling thing. In his defence though, there’s really not much a kid can do in the grand scheme of things… or so he thought.

Hawks didn’t expect Tokoyami to get stabbed during a League of Villains attack. He didn’t expect Eraserhead to start investigating him. He didn’t expect to be caught in an alley making out with a known murderer. And, he definitely didn’t expect Aizawa to understand.

If the only future path you saw was to remove a specific slice of traumatic, horrific memory from the mind of your successor, would you do it? Nana did. Yagi Toshinori lived with what he had lost, though with unease he couldn't explain. Enter Aizawa Shouta wanting more from their relationship than routines steered by unexplained fears. No-one is above reproach and it's never too late.

"It's not like any of my exes ever said 'let's fuck or I'm leaving you' but...yeah. It's a factor." "You just didn't want to sleep with any of them?" "I wanted to. Or wanted to want to, I guess." *** The impact left by Hizashi's ex-boyfriend still looms, too big and too much, so he asks Shouta for a favor.

Nolan’s body has never been his friend.

Incubus - a male demon who feeds off of sexual intercourse with humans. Kaminari hasn’t been able to get the word out of his head all day. Not since he learned it at 11:28 am in his mythology and demonology class, anyway. To him, it sounds a whole lot like an opportunity. Kaminari Denki is hella tired of being a virgin, so he summons a demon to help him out. But maybe he should be more careful with what he wishes for - he's going to be absolutely ruined for humans after this.

Curly-Brow hisses, “What, exactly, am I supposed to have them do?” The guy looks at Zoro and adds, “Amputation via sword?” “Clerical, scribing, changing bedpans? The world’s your fuckin’ oyster and they,” Dr. Old Man thrusts a wrinkled thumb at them, “are your fuckin’ problem now.” Luffy takes this moment to wave and bound right up to the nurse with a chirp of, “Hi! I’m Monkey D. Luffy and I’m gonna’ be the Pirate King. Sorry about your roof.” The nurse stares at Luffy for a solid five seconds, unblinking. Nami whispers despairingly, “Oh my fucking gods.” The nurse turns back to Dr. Old Man and asks, “Am I allowed to submit this one for a psych eval?” -- In which Sanji is the crew's doctor and not their cook. This changes remarkably little.