Nicky’s an omega with a heat problem. Ovi volunteers as tribute.

There's no word in English rude enough for “holy shit, my long-term life partner turns into an angry crow once every ten years,” but there fucking should be.

What is supposed to be a special night for them takes a seemingly nightmarish turn. (AKA the one where Nicky grows tentacles.)

Nicklas Backstrom knows that Alexander Ovechkin is his soulmate but they never talk about it.

Five people (well, technically six) who already knew Sasha and Nicky were together and the one person they surprised.

It isn't, Alex reflects inanely, the fact that Nicky isn't wearing his cuffs. They aren't even cuffs but magic-infused braided and inscribed leather bracelets, one on each wrist—Nicky pushes them up his forearms during every game. No, it's Nicky's anguished face when he takes them off.

A writer from Alex's past outs him in an essay. What's a guy to do but marry his former best friend?

“Think the storm did it,” Sasha tells the kids over lunch the next day. Andre got last place in their morning skate shootout contest, so he’s paying. “Did what?” Willy says through a mouthful of sushi. Sasha points at him with his chopsticks. “Your powers,” he says. “Snowzilla comes, suddenly everyone’s mutants? Something happened there, no other explanation.” Latts strokes his chin. “Didn’t the Flash get struck by lightning or something? It’s not totally crazy.”

“Best baby need best jersey,” Alex says blithely, which doesn’t actually answer the question. It does, however, tell Nicklas whose jersey it is, and sure enough when Alex lifts it up to put it back in the bag Nicklas can see the 8 and the 'OVECHKIN' emblazoned on the back. or, nicklas finds himself responsible for a baby. alex approves.

A wolfborn on an airplane was either unbearably reckless or a hockey player. Most of the time, both.

“So,” the first reporter asks, pushing forward in the scrum, “did you know about Alex Ovechkin?”

Alex loves his kids, he really does, but he also might kill them. That is, if they don't put him in a goddamn early grave first. (Cop bribing, theft of public property, and how to photoshoot your dick properly in order to seduce a teammate: all part of a captain's responsibilities to his rookies.)

This is an AU about a dick piercing.

In which alternate universe Boston had 4th pick and Washington had 5th pick in the 2006 draft, and in which alternate universe the NHL is kind enough make accommodations for players’ personal circumstances. For instance, to allow Washington to pick Alex Ovechkin’s absolutely true, definitely not fake, 100% not-made-up fiancé to come play for the Caps. “You what,” Alex says. “Alex Ovechkin’s who?” —and its aftermath, through the years.

“You can’t be picked if you’re married," Nicky says, like it's obvious. “I’m not married,” Alex replies. “You’re marrying me,” Nicky says, his jaw set. “You haven’t proposed."

It’s a game. It’s a game to see how loud he can be and not have anyone but Nicky hear him, a game to see what he can do without anyone but Nicky noticing.

It’s going to be a big deal, his mother had told him, and Nicklas had listened. His mom’s not an idiot. It’s going to be a big deal, she’d promised, if and when you find them. It’s going to be more than you thought it would, and if and when you know it, you’ll know it for sure.

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.

Nicky scores a hat trick, and gets an orgasm. Or three.

There was an empty bed, a bassinet, and a recliner. There was a sink, a window overlooking the city, and a small table. But none of those things registered because Nicky was standing in the middle of the room shirtless, with the tiniest baby Alex had ever seen cradled to his chest as he swayed. ———— Nicky adopts a baby and Alex falls in love.

Nicky wanted a family. He wanted a family very much, but not like this.

Alex twists the ring around his finger as he watches Nick pace. He consented, everyone did, but in the privacy of their room, he seems much more on edge now about it. “Nicky,” he finally whines, sick of watching. Despite all his pacing, Nicky’s face is blank and Alex has no idea what he’s thinking. Nicky spins to face him. “I don’t want this.”

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.

Sometimes, when a player is having relationship trouble of some kind, he wakes up in bed with a retired player who wore the same number. In theory, the retired player gives some advice.

"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 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.

“You,” Alex says, pointing at him. “Me,” he continues, pointing back at himself. “Married.” “Oh,” Nicky says. “Oh.” [It doesn't go any smoother after that.]

When your love for someone or something changes, you get love fever. When you get love fever, you usually get a love rash: a nasty, persistent itch in the shape of flowers or birds or your lover's hands. Alex has always noticed that Nicky doesn't get love blisters, just like he's noticed how Nicky fumes after losses, and prefers lasagna to ziti, and likes his girlfriends to cut his hair. He just assumed Nicky was one of those lucky people, the ones who don't get the rash.

Nicky generally considers himself a fairly competent, attentive person, so the fact that it’s taken him years to figure out that Alex has been essentially dating him is...disappointing. And also exhilarating.

Having babies gives you dad power. Dad power helps put hockey teams on the road to Sir Stanley. Sid sired a herd of little Penguins before Pittsburgh won its Cup. Toews might as well be running a Blackhawks baby factory. Now it's Ovi's turn. If only someone had told him that impregnating your fuckbuddy might make things a little weird.

There's a tumblr post that's literally all about 'things your OTP could do that make people think they're married if they aren't' and instead of writing one, I wrote them all. OR, Dad and Papa are a perfect, healthy, happy couple. But, they're not a couple at all.

Nicky quickly typed 'Need to reschedule, the children need me tonight' before re-pocketing his phone and turning to an expectant André. “Here’s what we’re gonna do. I’m going to go home and cook us dinner,” Nicky started, and André made an excited noise. “And you,” Nicky continued, “are going to bring Tom over to my house at 8 and we’ll all spend some time together.” A guide by the two dads of the Washington Capitals.

The Washington Capitals part of the D/s AU.

4 snippets that were not too explicit, 1 that was very explicit (Or: 4 kinks they technically might have had too at some point if Nicke hadn't been trans, and 1 that only works so good exactly because Nicke is trans)

It starts with Sasha's neighbour worrying about the stupid fish. When Sasha finds out what's behind that, it ends so, so much worse for him... Or: Putting "ovi" into "oviposition" ;) (~8k of Ovi getting tentacle dicked down + oviposition, the fic's basically in the tags, and what is advertised there is exactly the fic, you do the math)