A fanfic writer and Feminist Ryan Gosling discuss celebrity culture, gender and theory, and the political perils of Fassavoy fic.

"What, you don't roll around with all your clothes on when you're having sex?" Darren asks, and Chris snorts into his shoulder. "Because that's, like, the only way I'll do it. Either roll or go home."

"If I were Christian fucking Bale, or Jesus Christ help me, Clooney in the nipple suit, gearing up to play Bruce fictional fucking Wayne, he'd send me a fucking fictional helicopter."

In which there are parties, awkwardness and orgasms.

In which the gay bar is Stalberg's idea and Kaner doesn't notice Jon pretending to be his boyfriend.

"Once there were two hockey players. One had great hair. One had a lot of brothers. This is their story." Or, Kris Letang gets a hug and Marc Staal meets a nice boy. Inspired by Morning to Wake You

"We'll make this work somehow, sweetheart, won't we?" he said, swaying back and forth a bit as it warmed up. It probably made him look stupid, but he'd discovered there were a lot of stupid-looking things he'd do to keep his baby girl happy.

They’ve had this connection for nearly as long as they’ve known each other; Patrick doesn’t know why it happened, what made it so that out of all the people in the world, it’s Johnny and only Johnny whose thoughts he can read, but there it is. One day it was just Patrick in his head, and the next, he’d woken up with the background awareness of Johnny in there too, and a panicked, thumping voice saying, Oh, shit. You too?

His mom had told him not to fall in love with houses; so had his dad, made some crack about them being worse than women, son, while his mom fake-punched him in the arm and then added, "and like people, it's what's underneath that matters, Johnny." But this is the first house he's looked at that he's liked, though he doesn't know why: it's got narrow, pointy windows with stone pieces on the tops like eyebrows, and it sits between its larger, tidier, neighbours like a poor cousin. Johnny thinks it maybe just needs someone to love it; and then he thinks: fuck.

Sidney is starting to get a reputation amongst the Pens for being the go-to guy for free childcare. Or, five times Sidney babysat and one time someone babysat for him.

Geno is sure there's a perfectly reasonable explanation for why Sidney has a dresser drawer full of sex toys, but right now he's drawing a blank.

or, the many times Tyler Seguin tried to come out on Twitter and no one believed him.

“So, you Skype your boy a lot or something?” Kaner asks when he’s been there for a little while and heard Segs talk about Tyler enough to catch a clue. There’s something odd in his voice--a little plaintive, like he’s asking, so how do you deal with it? Segs hesitates, shrugs. Says, “Yeah, something like that.” Inside his head, Tyler laughs.

The only jobs for which no man is qualified are human incubators and wet nurse. Likewise, the only job for which no woman is or can be qualified is sperm donor. -Wilma Scott Heide

It turns out that buddyfucking your best friend without shit getting weird requires constant vigilance.

“People who want to eat my grilled cheese for dinner should learn not to interrupt the delicate purchasing process with their unwelcome mockery,” Claude says. Danny and Claude move to Berlin. Nothing really changes, until everything does.

Generally speaking, Kaner is the kind of girl you hear before you see coming. In some cases, literally. --- AKA the one where Jonny accidentally watches Kaner and Segs fucking over skype.

None of them have discussed the fact that Duncs is dating knock-off Seabses, because what can they really do about it?

Claude gets a new car. Cameron doesn't like it.

Kaner apparently starred in a porno at some point in his life. Jonny becomes very, very invested in watching it. Repeatedly.

"Yes, Kaner," Sharpy's saying as Jonny sits down next to them with a beer. "It would indeed be gay to measure your teammates' dicks to find out whose is biggest."

This wasn't supposed to happen. In the lists of things Brent wasn't expecting, this is at least third on the list, after 'being able to talk to animals' and 'growing wings' (but before 'zombie apocalypse').

By the time Wang Yibo turns twenty, he's accepted that his dick is too big for sex, and he will be a virgin forever. Xiao Zhan begs to differ.

It's their last day of filming in Hengdian when the secret comes out.

Xiao Zhan doesn’t bother listening or saying anything in response to Yibo's ranting, just holds the phone a little closer to his face and lets a low moan hover at the edge of his breathing. He’s looking at the red tip of Yibo’s cock where it peeks out from his foreskin and thinking about licking it. Yibo’s indignation comes through clearly over the phone. “Are you— Are you jacking it, Xiao Zhan?” “Uh huh,” Xiao Zhan sighs, and tries his best to let the wet sounds of his hand on his cock get louder. Maybe he should grab lube for extra squelchiness. “Oh, no way. Nope, I can’t handle this,” Yibo declares and the line goes dead. Xiao Zhan laughs softly to himself, and somehow that transforms into the convulsions of orgasm and he comes all over his hand. He takes a picture and sends it to Yibo. see you tomorrow

Wang Yibo's message reads: who do you think like initiates the first time

"You can't be serious," Xiao Zhan says. "Zhan-ge," Yibo cajoles, brandishing his PS4 controller and patting the couch next to him. "Just give me like, two minutes. I promise. I swear. I just gotta be online for this drop."

Xiao Zhan isn't sure when a normal evening drinking with his cast mates turned into watching porn with them, but the transition must have been both swift and head-spinning, and if pressed, he'd blame it on Yu Bin.

The beginning of something

Ji Li gulps in air, and then converts a moan into a low, whiny exhale. Yizhou's arm tightens around Ji Li's back, seemingly involuntarily. "Let me guess," Ji Li says, "you wanted to reach through the screen and comfort me like this." "Nah, it would be a very different movie if I did."

Li Bowen can have a little intimacy. As a treat. (Or: the one where the Yi City actors have a threesome in a hotel room.)

Anything that Xiao Zhan puts on him, around his neck, is great, and most often that is simply his hands. Like now, as they land first on Yibo’s shoulders, and then stroke up the sides of his neck, one curling to the front, wrapping around and gripping lightly. Yibo lets out a shuddering breath and leans into the touch. “You really want this, huh,” Xiao Zhan says, and Yibo nods.

In which there was a picture of Wang Yibo looking very smart in a skirt on twitter, and it made me write my first fic in a year. aka: waxing, and spanking, and love, oh my.

“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.

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.

Depending on who you ask, the Reaper is A) a criminal B) a hero C) a lunatic or D) all of the above.

It's just a thing, a funny little anomaly in his DNA that he has to compensate for. Realistically, there are people out there who are allergic to peanuts and strawberries and gluten - and thus, practically two-thirds of the world's joy - so comparatively, Jensen's always figured he had it easy. But that was before Jared Padalecki.

Far and away, being an omega is the least interesting thing about Jared.

His hand against Jensen's stomach gets the soldier flinching again, at least twice as hard as the one that jolts him when Jared tweezes the first splinter of elysium off of the tray and pierces the skin right at Jensen's hip with it.