#I’m just tired of the extreme fans making this big wonderful thing about BUCK about TOMMY

[daffi-990]

wow some of y’all are really glossing over that Oliver said Buck being bi and his journey isn’t about Tommy OR Eddie.

He said Tommy too, but you’re gonna choose to ignore that huh 🙄

[self-indulgent-paw-patrol]

I’m gonna throw my five bucks on a certain subject here. Some swearing will apply and this post is LONG AS HELL, so be warned.

The TL;DR of this post is: Paw Patrol canon has been treating most pups like shit lately for several seasons now, so if you ever feel frustrated or absolutely pissed at Paw Patrol canon and the way they’re portrayed most of the time nowadays, know you can count on me here and on my pups’ askblog to have some fucking good food for your soul. I may be slow sometimes because I have a life outside the internet just like everyone else, but I'm not going away. Fuck canon, I'll give my damn self what they've been denying us of and I'll make a point of sharing it with you because we're all tired and the time to make things happen ourselves is long overdue.

I understand how most older fans are extremely frustrated with the way Paw Patrol has been different from what they used to watch and love long ago. You guys have been following this show for years - I started just this January. I didn’t have to spend long weeks, months, years even, waiting for things to happen or get better, and just being more and more frustrated. You have all the right to be pissed beyond your minds now.

I am fortunate enough to see things with the different mindset of someone who’s “binge watching”. While I didn’t need to wait weeks for new episodes, I got to see things at a faster pace and take some conclusions myself too about certain things. I’m gonna share what I think so far.

1- It’s logical to have Chase be a first responder most times, though I can see he’s not being used the way he could be. They’re not exploring his potential, they’re just making a point of using him just because. That is a problem because he is actually a character with an important job/role which could be used in many other ways other than what’s been happening for several seasons now. Also, I don’t give a damn fuck about any of that “he’s cop propaganda” crap. It’s a cartoon about dogs with jobs that are important to keep society functioning. I don’t care cops are jobs created with bad intents way back then, it IS an important job that just can and should be addressed differently now, evolving along with the society it’s supposed to care for. That being said, he BARELY does any cop job at all anyway, he's more like a traffic control and search & rescue pup, which by itself is already sort of a concern too since he's supposed to be a police pup, but whatever.

2- Marshall is really badly used for several seasons too and I honestly wonder why they even have a Firefighter pup if they won’t have him do firefighter stuff. He only does RESCUE stuff. And barely at that. As a friend of mine commented some time ago, he’s treated as the town’s janitor, not a firefighter. We literally barely have any fire ever too. Be careful, guys, you can’t show fire to kids, it’s bad stuff!!! Fire is forbidden!!!! (/sarcasm) Reason for me to fucking love the movies is literally just to see Marshall having his badass moments putting out actual fire.

3- I feel bad for Skye and her fans. For real, I’m not kidding. I like her. And as a fan I can also see ALL the issues they have been causing on her. The most known issue is how she’s overused to the point we’re exhausted of seeing her being a first responder for literally anything, especially for things that could have been solved by other pups (usually taking Marshall off his opportunities to use his ladder for height rescues, lessening even more what little rescue jobs he has left). They do that because they made a big fat mistake when they decided there would be only one female in the main team and now that they “need” female rep for the girls (and their own daughters/etc), they need to overuse the only one they have available 100% of the episodes, at the expense of erasing the other pups. The worst part is that they don’t even try an effort on how to work with her, they just shove her in there to do anything in any way. I haven’t seen her use her pup-pack’s wings in ages now, only that goddamned helicopter and harness or hook.

4- My biggest issue with Zuma is not even the fact he’s barely called for any mission at all for over half the show. I can say for a fact that people who live by beaches have a damn sense of how to behave around water. I live by several touristic tropical beaches. THE LOCALS KNOW NOT TO MESS WITH THE FUCKING OCEAN, the people who fuck up are ALWAYS tourists who have no idea about how beaches work. Meanwhile, the locals know when tides will rise, they know when it’s good time for fishing, they know to read the waters, they know to read the skies, they know where it’s good and safe for swimming or diving. It’s not just “mystical native knowledge” or something they ACTIVELY know they know, it just… It’s just NATURAL. They’re not “taught” these things, they learn it just by living and experiencing the beach life. It makes sense Zuma doesn't have much to do because Adventure Bay residents just will not fuck up on the water.

Now I know the show producers didn’t have THIS specific shit in mind as an excuse to not have Zuma doing many rescues at all, but this is something that’s natural, so I can let that pass. I don’t mind it. My issue about Zuma is how he’s supposed to be this pup who’s all about sea, ocean, water rescues and… They just don’t show it. The thing that got me pissed the most is the fact he never knows anything about sea life - it’s always the Cap’n Turbot who’s telling them about sea animals. Zuma didn’t know what a Narwhal was. Dude, I was a kid who loved (still love) all about the ocean and by age 4 I knew about a lot of animals, INCLUDING Narwhals because they’re freaking “cool whales with a long unicorn horn lol that’s wicked”. If you’ll have a character who loves and lives for the sea/ocean stuff, you gotta have him KNOW about it. It’s HIS THING and they fucked it up by constantly having him NOT KNOWING JACKSHIT ABOUT THE VERY THING HE LOVES.

It’s just clear the producers dislike Zuma for whatever fucking reason I don’t want to know and I don’t give a flying fuck anymore. I don’t expect them to remember about Zuma any more often than what they’ve barely done for several years now. I get sad because he’s one of my favorite pups as I see myself so much in him - except on the fact he SHOULD know about sea life lmao but I can’t get nearly as frustrated as you all because I literally just don’t expect them to change how they treat Zuma. They made it VERY CLEAR they have no intention on giving him any more attention than what little he gets and I’ve come to accept it - doesn’t mean I’m happy. I'm just realistic.

5- I don’t really have anything to “complain” on Rubble and Rocky, thankfully. Nothing about the other pups outside the main team either. Some of them could show up more, but that's about it.

6- My last issue is also a common point in this fandom, which is how little the pups have interacted for several seasons now. We don’t get to see them outside of rescues at all, and when we do, it’s always something happening that will be related to the mission that’s to come. Only “plot relevant” stuff. It gets tiring and makes all characters feel fucking FLAT. We don’t see character development at all. Don’t even get me started on Ryder. “Development” has NEVER been a word in the producers’ dictionary for Ryder.

With all these points, I also want to add that I don’t intend on “giving up” on the show because thankfully I didn’t have YEARS of frustration building up to get me pissed to such a point. I can keep watching it. Also, as an older person (not older fan since I only started watching this year), it’s kinda hard to make me give up on anything at all because I’ve seen too much already from several other cartoons/animes XD Besides, if I have the means to make things happen, I don’t wait for the show to give me the things. I make them myself - reason number one why I created the @diy-fire-water-pups RP/Ask Blog. I can draw, I can write, I know how these characters work, I’ll give myself what I want to see. Fuck whatever else in canon. I don’t care. If Zuma and Rocky won’t interact in canon despite living under the same fucking roof, sharing owner and working together, I’ll make it happen myself and share it with you all because who gives a damn??? I'm the kind of person that when they don't give me what I want to see, I'll just go and make it myself, no fucks given.

I don’t think it’s worth to be so pissed and frustrated at canon media, especially nowadays when we know for a fact the big bosses won’t fucking listen to fandom opinions to work better on what fans would like to see. Sadly, not all show producers are like the Warframe devs (THEY WISH THEY'D BE LIKE THEM XD). You're just making yourself more sad than needed over fictional media. Your mental health is real and you need to pay attention to it.

I’m not asking for ships to be canon - fuck it, they’re portrayed as kids, the fact I ship some characters doesn't necessarily mean I expect ships to be canon in the show. They could at least remember to give the characters A LIFE. And do their fucking jobs, which was supposedly the original intention of the show, to help showing kids what “mainstream jobs” do, for kids to start developing a sense of having a favorite cool job they’d probably want to pursue a career in later in life, or something of the likes. I've had a student who's studying automotive engineering programming solely because she used to watch "Knight Rider" with her dad as a teenager and loved "the sassy car with artificial intelligence" in the show. She grew up to decide pursuing a career on developing automotive technologies because she watched a talking car on TV. Kids might watch Paw Patrol and decide they want to become firefighters, to be airplane pilots, to be marine biologists, to be cops, whatever. Shit is, they're now doing a very poor job on working on this purpose.

I’ll continue running the pups askblog to give myself and to give you all some actual character development, content, some life outside of rescues and missions. I have some big plans for the blog, not gonna give spoilers about these plans yet because I’m still developing the ideas, I just need my desktop computer back working so I can work on my stuff without interruption - currently sharing my slow af laptop with my dad and my younger bro bc we all need it, I’m poor, I can’t afford buying a second laptop, I barely make enough for bills and food as it is. Btw my PC is back from the techs but my TV is dying and I used to use that as a PC monitor/screen, so now I’m going out of my way to buy a new monitor/screen for it (I can go on with my life without a TV for a few years just fine). Once that gets solved, let’s see if my PC will fucking work without shutting down randomly all the damn time. If it works, I can start developing my bigger plans for the blog - I’ll just say each of my three pups will get a very deserved spotlight they SHOULD have in canon (though Rocky’s been getting his with the miniseries “Rocky’s Garage”, amen to that).

So, if you ever feel frustrated about Paw Patrol canon, you know you can come over here and to my pups blog for some actual stuff, some real talk, and a breath of fresh air. Especially for some Rocky and Zuma interaction, since canon just denies us of the simplest interactions between them for no valid reason. Cowards.

[queenrose730]

Reckless

Part Two

Master List

The ride to the airport was quite. Everyone had their eyes trained on a different part of the road. The airport itself was busy. Cars and people just about everywhere. That’s what made the parking garage even more eerie. It was empty. Not a single car. Steve drove up a few levels before parking allowing everyone to get out and stretch.

 “I’m going to do a per- “

 “Yn. There is nobody here. We didn’t pass a single car.” Steve had his hand on your shoulder. He was relaxed somehow. So you mimicked his composer and leaned against the car. You tensed again when you heard a vehicle approaching. Pushing off from the car a reaching for your gun. But again Steve was calm.

“It’s irritating how relaxed you are right now.” You snarled at him. He just smiled and walked forward as the white van pulled into a spot a few down from where you were.

You didn’t recognize the woman in the front seat at first. A man got out of the driver’s side and walked around the van.

 “You’ve got to be shitting me! Hawkeye!” You rush over to him all but lifting him off the ground in a hug.

 “Alright calm down. It’s good to see you to.” He squeezed you tightly and you both pulled back.

 “What are you doing here? I thought you were retired?” You lifted your brow at him as he just laughed.

 “You know how it is when cap calls.” He just shrugged

 “Don’t I.” Now you recognized the woman behind Clint. “This must be Wanda!” You released Clint so he could talk to Steve and Sam. Wanda put her hand out to you.

 “Oh no I don’t do handshakes.” You scooped her in for just as tight of hug as you did with Clint. “It’s wonderful to finally meet you.”

 “It’s nice to meet you to yn.” Clint talked about you the whole way here. She had a big smile on her face. You turn to Clint still holding her hand

 “I hope it was all good things.” He chuckled and walk toward the side door of the van.

 “Told her you would be a bad influence.” He winked as he opened the door. A man you didn’t know sort of tumbled out of the van, looking like he was being woken up from a three-day bender.

 “Holy crap it’s Captain America!” He started vigorously shaking Steve’s hand and you couldn’t help but laugh at his face. Wanda let a small giggle out too. I’m Scott lang.

 “Nice to meet you Scott.” You could tell Steve was dying on the inside. He hated when people fanned over him. Scott quickly let go of his hand and turned back to where Clint, Wanda and you were standing.

 “I know you guys too. You’re all great!”

 The moment was cut short when an announcement in German came over the airport pa.

 “Steve they are clearing out the airport.” You let go of Wanda’s hand and walked closer to him. “Stark is here.”

 “Then let’s suit up.” He turned back to the bug to get his shield.

 “Clint I sure hope you brought me something?”

 “I always have gifts for you princess!” He walked around to the back of the van. There were two duffle bags. “Right one is all yours.”

 “What’s in the other one?” You picked up your bag and hooked it on your shoulder.

 “Had to bring gifts for everyone.” He nodded off to where Barnes was standing. He was leaning on the car looking out the parking garage.

 “Hey Barnes. You got a delivery over here!” You shouted to him and walked around the other side of the van so you could get changed into your gear.

 The plan was simple. The rest of the team would deal with Tony and whoever else was with him. You would get a plane ready. You didn’t like being held back from a fight but you knew it was the best chance to get out of there. Sam and you were the best pilots. It was going to take every ounce of skill to out maneuver Tony in his suit. Sam would be noticed if he wasn’t fighting. So far all of you had no inclination that anyone knew you were with Steve. It was the best shot. Packing up the last of your arsenal into a bag, Barnes walked up to you.

 “Do you have extra space in there?”

 “Sure do. Whatcha got.” You began to move things around as he handed you extra magazines.

 “Thanks.” He patted your shoulder before turn back to join the others.

 The main goal of this fight wasn’t to kill. Most of the weapons you attached to your body were some form of taser. Everything else was packed into the bag and secured to your back.

 “You ready over there yn?” You turned to Steve. Everyone else was standing around him waiting for final orders.

 “Yea. Just had to double check all the goodies”

 “Right. So if Stark is here that means the helicopter is probably not going to be the best way out of here.” Steve turned to Sam. “Check to see if there is a quinjet here. Hopefully we can draw enough attention for yn to get there and be ready for us.” There was a pause. Something told you everyone was thinking the same thing. Not everyone would be getting to the jet. “Sam, Buck. I want you in the terminal top floor. Clint, Wanda. Find somewhere close to me. But stay out of sight until I signal. Scott. You’re with me. Yn, stay to the edges. Don’t engage if at all possible. They need to think that it’s only the six of us.” Everyone was nodding to their instructions and moving to get into position. Steve and you were the last two to move. Standing side by side he put his arm around you in a tight hug, placing a small kiss on the top of your head.

 “And promise me yn. Don’t do anything stupid or reckless.” You couldn’t help but laugh and walk away from him. Turning back to face him.

 “Now you know that’s my job Steve.” He gave you a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes as he moved to follow you.

 “Comms check. Is everyone in position?” A chorus of copies came through your ear piece. “Sam where are we on the quinjet?”

 “Looks like it’s in the far hanger to the right.” You peaked around the edge of the building you were hiding behind.

 “Looks like a pretty straight shot Steve. I should have plenty of cover as long as you keep them busy.”

 “Let’s move.”

 Steve took off in a jog to the helicopter that was your original plan. Just before he reached it though, something electrified it. Tony and Rhodey landed just in front of it. You could feel the tension from those two from where you were standing. Soon more people joined their conversation. T’challa, Nat and then another person you didn’t recognize. He had snatched the shield from Steve and was talking to Tony. Suddenly Steve raised his hands, they were bound somehow. An arrow spilt the binding and in an instant the fight was on.

 You tired your best not to focus too much on who was hitting who. That didn’t matter right now. All that mattered was dodging debris that seemed to start falling from everywhere. Somewhere in the chaos you saw that Vision had joined in on Tony’s side.

 “Steve I’m at the jet!” You shouted over the noise that filled the comms. “Get here now!”

 “We got to take out the flyers! We won’t get out of here with them in the air!”

 “Steve. You and Bucky get to the jet. The rest of us aren’t making it out of this fight.”

 “Sam’s right cap. This isn’t the real fight.”

 “Steve. We need to go now.” You pleaded with him. He hesitated.

 “Then we need I big diversion.”

 Scott was on it. Suddenly growing to tower over everything.

 “That’s it Steve. Get your ass here now.” Your anxiety was raising. Everything on the jet was ready to go.

You just needed Steve and Barnes to be fast enough to make it.

 “Come on come on.” You repeated to yourself. They were gaining ground. The jets engines whined as they Idled in place, ready to let loose. Suddenly a yellow beam of energy shot across the tarmac and the tower next to the hangar was falling. Shit. They weren’t going to make it. You prepared to take off and snatch them on the other side. It would be extremely risky but that was the only option. That was until now a red energy from Wanda slowed the fall. Both men pushed hard to run. At the last second though Wanda’s energy was gone. The tower came crashing down.

 “Fuck Steve!” You shouted over the comms. He didn’t have to answer you because there both him and Barnes stood. Face to face with Nat.

 You fought with yourself. They needed to get out of here. There was no time to waste fighting with Natasha. Then T’challa climbed over the debris. Almost instantly Nat hit him with a taser shot. She was helping you guys.

 “Steve! Now!” You shouted one last time. As soon as you heard two sets of boots, the ramp was up and the jet was airborne.

 “Hold on to something!” You didn’t wait for confirmation before dropping the jet back down low to avoid a shot from Tony. All you could hear was bodies hitting something and curse words. Next was straight up then sharp right bank.

 “Sam I need some cover. I can’t shake them!”

 “I’m working on it!” Tony was down. It was just Rhodey on your tail. He matched you turn for turn.

 “Fuck. Come on Sam.” You mumbled focused on pulling every maneuver skill you could think off.

 “Yn!” Steve caught you leaving attention just in time for you to dodge another yellow beam from vision. Rhodey dropped from your radar. There we shots over the comms. You couldn’t make them out clearly but you knew it was bad. All you could do was push the engines harder and put more distance between the airport and you.

Tags  @ginger-swag-rapunzel

[janekfan]

prompt! (cause ur one of my fav fan writers and i think this is up ur ally): i hc that helen just dumped jon in his office when she rescued him from the circus. maybe when he got back he just took a little while to have a good cry but martin found him in the middle of it and was like "where've you been whats wrong holy shit" and jons just like "hnngh... martin..." (and then maybe later martin is like "oh elias said u were on leave im so sorry" and jons like "elias said WHAT")

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27165962

You are so sweet!!! I hope you like it! :D

"I'll be seeing you, Archivist." In a voice so saccharine sweet in such juxtaposition to how empty and ashamed Jon felt twisted up on the floor where she'd dropped him. He tried to focus, to see her, where she was, or was not but she had slipped through her yellow door in a burst of static before he truly understood where he was. It was when his office began to coalesce around him that the tears came, stinging, burning, the idea that he might just be safe here for even a moment catching on the ragged attempt at a breath. Two. Three. Swift. Hyperventilating. No hands, no mannequins, no, no, no stripping, stroking, smoothing, touching.

But he must be silent. Silent if he's to be able to hide in this small bit of sanctuary and he muffled himself, calling upon years of practice crying in the dark alone, and dragged himself under his desk for another degree of separation against the world and its cruelty. Nevermind that he brought this upon himself, he intended to hide from it until the hunger and thirst clawing at his stomach, his throat, forced him from his hiding place. Leaning against the cool wall, Jon pressed a flushed cheek against it, wrapping his arms around his knees and collapsing inwards like a dying star.

No one came for him.

And while he knew he'd burned bridges and sullied relationships with his paranoid investigating the knowing of it ached in his chest, taking up so much room with its constant agony that there was nothing left for anything else and Jon didn't think he'd ever felt more alone in his entire life. It was silly of him to think anyone would look for him and that did nothing to sooth the hurt bubbling up at the thought of being so easy to abandon, so easy to forget. He cried. He cried and cried, nigh hysterical and so, so quietly because his assistants weren't that far away and he couldn’t allow them to see him like this. There wasn't much left of him at the moment and he wouldn't survive Melanie’s cold indifference or Tim's hot anger.

Had his disappearance even been noticed?

The handle of his door squeaked and he clapped trembling hands over his mouth, eyes wide and searching in the dim. Had they found him? Come to take him away again?

Quiet. Be quiet. Like a mouse. Like you did when you were small.

Whatever, whoever it was hummed in a very familiar way, as if they'd glanced around the room and found it wanting. That was fine. He was always found wanting. He'd been so awful to everyone that it was no wonder he was found wanting. They dropped something onto the desk’s surface, and the toes of Martin’s trainers were inches away from Jon's hiding place. He held his breath, closed his eyes tight.

Wished to be found.

Wished to be left alone.

Why wasn’t he leaving?

A whimper escaped, small. Barely there. But it was enough. Martin’s shoes shifted, stepped back.

“I’ve got a, well I’ve got a mug! But it will hurt!” Jon pressed back, curled up, just as Martin’s body blocked the minimal light to his hiding place. It took a few seconds for his face to come into focus.

“Don’t!” Jon flinched from his hand, shouting, the thought of being touched made him want to throw up, made him want to disappear, made him want to run. “Don’t. P’please.”

Martin didn’t know if he truly expected an intruder but he definitely didn’t expect to find Jon cowering away from him, rail thin, expression haunted, and dressed in clothes two sizes too large on him. In a cracked voice he shouted at him when he reached out and in the dim of his hiding place he could make out his wide, terrified eyes, lined with dark shadows and suspiciously wet.

“Alright, alright, Jon.” Martin sat cross legged on the floor instead to watch him ease the smallest amount and drop his forehead to the folded arms balanced on knobby knees with a shaky exhale. “So, haven’t seen you in a while.” His shoulders hitched in a damp laugh, hitched further when he began sobbing. “Oh, oh, Jon.”

“I, I, I--” he was gasping for air, crying too hard to speak, and Martin risked shifting just a little bit forward and talking in a low voice, just for them under the desk.

“Okay, okay. Elias didn’t tell us where you’d gone.” At that, Jon whipped his head to face him, confusion warring with the panic.

“W’what?”

“No one knew where you were.” Big tears slipped down his cheeks and he looked so betrayed, so small, that Martin wanted to wrap him up and protect him from all the awful things he knew were coming.

“I was. The Circus.” He scrubbed his face angrily with his forearm. “Took me. They took me.” He ground the heels of both hands into his eyes as if he could physically stop himself from crying. “They.”

“You don’t have to talk about it, Jon.”

“I wasn’t. I didn’t m’mean to.” His bottom lip was trembling, his words thready. “I’m s’sorry. I didn’t want, want.”

“This wasn’t your fault. Of course you didn’t want to be kidnapped off the street.” But he knew how this could look, especially for Tim with his history. The rest of the staff were likely to accuse Jon of pulling some sort of trick or long con. Melanie particularly hadn’t been shy in sharing exactly what she thought of the man weeping only a meter in front of him, hiding under his desk.

“Kept t’touching--” he choked himself off and Martin worried he was going to be sick but he just swallowed reflexively, sucking down great gulps of air, horrified and whispery. “Wouldn’t stop.”

“Jon, you’ve got to breathe. Slowly, okay?” He was going to pass out if he didn’t and Martin wasn’t altogether sure that wouldn’t be a bad thing, caught as he was between extremes, exhausted and strung out. Martin wanted to hold him, let him feel safe if he even could anymore, let him rest for a few minutes without fear of being hunted, chased, cut, burned, kidnapped.

“I’m coming apart. It’s too, it’s too heavy, Martin. I, I, I can’t breathe for the weight of it.” Syllables tripped over each other, manic, frantic, they tumbled from his mouth like a waterfall. “I know, I, I’ve been. Cagey? For lack of a b’better term? No, no, paranoid. I know. It’s. I’ve been, but things keep coming after me. They want to hurt me--have hurt me! And, and, and I. Trust. I don’t trust anyone. Not really. Not really. I can’t? I don’t. I don’t know how.” Thin, quaking fingers ran over innumerable scars unconsciously, tracing them in constellations. “I’m. I’m just so s’sorry and I can’t. I can’t fix it.” He grit his teeth, smothering himself before hanging his head. “I’m so tired, Martin.”

“I can help with that.”

Jon didn’t expect much after his outpouring. He hadn’t meant to say all that, to burden Martin with even more awful things on top of what they’d already experienced, but to his surprise he offered nothing but help and Jon wasn’t altogether sure why he was humoring him. Jon didn’t want to leave the office. He didn’t want anyone else to see him like this. He didn’t think he could take the inevitable and scathing comments. Not right now. Not yet.

“We can make that work.” He smiled, something small and sweet and open, shrugging out of his jumper and holding it out, still keeping his distance. His kindness was a balm, one that he thought might hold the disparate pieces of himself together long enough for him to scrape up the will to hold them together himself. “You’re cold. You’ve had a shock. A, a lot of shocks.” He raised an eyebrow, still with that same soft grin of understanding. “I’ve seen you nick them before.” Jon ducked his head, reaching out for the warm wool still holding remnants of Martin’s body heat and leaned back against the wall. It was almost like a blanket and the thick knit was well worn and pleasant on his hypersensitive skin. The weight of it soothed his frayed nerves and somehow, against all odds, Jon was dragged under a tidal wave of sleep.

Martin stood guard and watched Jon’s heavy lids fall shut over tired eyes as he unspooled under the safety of his desk. He sank lower, sliding down deeper into the jumper until the only visible part of his face was above the scarred bridge of his nose. He’d begun dreaming of something, making small noises and speaking scraps of sentences that were devoured by the dark. Martin scrutinized him in an attempt to discern whether or not the dreams were in fact nightmares, but he seemed alright for the moment and he let himself relax. He passed the time on his phone, wondering for a fleeting moment if anyone in the office realized where he went and ultimately decided that a little time away from the anger and the blame and the helplessness was probably good for him.

“S’a...mmn…” Jon’s face was pulled into a pained grimace, his fingers winding into the wool. “No’st, no!” Jon’s eyes flew open, flecked with unnatural green and blank with terror when he didn’t recognize or remember where he was. He fought with the cable knit swallowing up his body and tangling him up in his confusion. “No! No! No, no, no!” Panicked murmuring filled up his hiding place and he swiped frantically at his arms, trying to tear his way out of the binding constriction. His hands finally met skin but he didn’t recognize it as his own, fingers curling as he clawed dark angry marks from elbow to wrist and when Martin took hold of them in an effort to protect Jon from himself he had to exert incredible strength to keep him pinned, keep him from hurting himself. But he was so scared, bucking and wild and Martin was sure someone was going to burst in here at any moment, surprised that they hadn’t already, and demand answers to questions he couldn’t even begin to parse.

“Jon,” Martin tried, “hey, it’s me, you’re safe, you’re here in the Archives with me. The Archives, Jon.”

“Stop, stop, stop!” The tears were back, caught in his throat and stealing away his pleading voice and Martin hated every entity they’d ever encountered. He hated Elias, he hated whatever was happening here that they were so powerless to prevent.

“Jon, Jon, I’m here. Hush, now, hush, shhh.” Martin tried to hide his own panic behind a calm exterior, wrapping around him when he finally wrenched himself free and swiped at him. He held Jon tight, almost too tight, crushing his arms to his sides until the fight went out of him and he went completely slack, chest heaving, short panting breaths rushing in and out beside Martin’s ear. “That’s right. Okay, okay, I’m sorry, that must have been frightening. I didn’t want you to hurt yourself, I’m so sorry it scared you.” Strung tight as a bowstring and just about ready to snap, it took long minutes before his rabbit-quick heart began to slow and Martin could feel his bones stamping themselves in rigid lines where he was pressed against him. He kept up his nonsensical chatter, smoothing back unruly tangles.

“M’martin?” Barely an exhale as he turned his face into Martin’s neck. “Not, not. Plastic.” And while it didn’t make any sense to Martin, he let Jon have the comfort it gave him, gently loosening his grip, surprised that instead of putting as much distance between them that he could he collapsed inwards, curling into the pocket the curve of Martin’s body made and laying his ear over the rhythm beating beneath it. “Sorry…” His lips didn’t move, the apology carried on a deep, weary sigh.

“No need to apologize. You’ve done nothing wrong.” Martin ran a hand up and down Jon’s narrow back. He was quiet, calm, as he gathered up handfuls of his shirt and held on tight, a boat unmoored and lost at sea just searching for an anchor.

“Please, I’ve. I’ve no right to ask.” An all over shiver, like a string plucked, and it resonated from Jon and into Martin.

“You can.” He waited for him, giving him the space to speak without feeling any more pressure.

“Please, just a, a moment more?” He hugged him and Jon clutched back, burying his face into his shoulder to block out all else.

“Oh, Jon. Of course. All the time you need.”

[walkinsauce]

Becoming Poly- Chapter 14: My Turn

Sorry I didn’t blog last week. Do you know how hard it is to write about polyamory under the same roof as your parents? I was scared one of them was going to pop in and ask,

“Christina, why do you need that bottle of wine in your room?”

“Paper weight.”

So, ya, I’m sure hundreds of self help books would call that an “excuse” for not writing, but trust me: it felt TOO CREEPY. You try to write about sex while your parents are in the next room watching My Three Sons. See how you feel.  I would, however, like to thank all my Tumblr readers for hitting the heart button on all my blogs. Quick shout outs to:

ilove-seductive-mature attractive-milf-girls hot-elder-chamber fat-milf-foxy-imgs bimbo-slutty-girlz fuck-sexy-fat-pussies fucking-amazing-fat-cunts jugs-nice-pictures

It’s good to know I’ve found my audience. Though I do wish you guys would put some capital letters in your names. You’re better than that.

I’ve calmed down from my boyfriend’s first ���other sex” in our relationship. I’m pretty lucky that I have so many people reaching out to me, who are better versed in open relationships than I am. A particular comic friend in Florida always sums it up so well:

“Your primary is your home. These other people are the Disneylands and carnivals of the world. Fun day excursions, but you don’t want it every day.”

I think that’s my problem: Part of me would prefer to be the Disneyland. And good news for you, I’m way cheaper.

I still have a crush on the one guy I texted at O’Brien’s the day of my breakdown. I know he’s wary of the poly thing, and knowing my boyfriend, but I can’t help it. I’ve known him for years. I’ve had a crush on him for a year. I can’t help it if I’m a coward, and don’t know how to approach him. (Especially considering the circumstances.) Me sending him Snapchats that he’ll never open is enough of a rush for me.

It’s Friday night. I’m sitting at Ollo, as I often do during happy hour, wondering what I’m going to do when all the regulars go home at 8pm. It’s not a party city. We could use a Malibu’s Most Wanted reboot out here. But with the tiny bit of confidence I get from deep fried zucchini sticks and house wine, I decide to text my crush:

“Do you ever open Snapchat anymore, or am I sending things to an archive…?”

(With a smirky face emoji, obvi.)

He writes back minutes later.

“Hahahaha! I just watched the snaps! They made me laugh!”

It was at least a month’s worth of events, even capturing his own roommates. It must have been quite the montage.

“Thanks for sending them! I’m sorry I’m the worst. They were really funny. How long have you been sending them?”

Oh months. They’re my favorite seed I’ve ever planted.

“You might have just gotten something from me.”

I open Snapchat and see his name light up in full arrowed purple. I’m ridiculously excited for a girl my age. I’m starting to tune out the old man beside me bragging about how he gave Rosie O’Donnell her big break. That’s how you can tell I keep it real in this town- I’d much rather chase romance than my own career. (GOOD MOVE, EH?)

He writes again:

“I just finished a show in Hermosa Beach and I got to watch a lady heckle another comedian by saying, “we’re never going to be friends.”

Wow. The edginess of Hermosa Beach hecklers. What’s next? No tip? Shocking. I’m walking home, past people sleeping in their cars. At least my career is going better than theirs. But it’s a good reminder there’s no parking restrictions on PCH. Man, if any road needs some street cleaning…

It takes us another 18 texts to finally figure out we should meet up, but when he writes,

“I’d be down to meet up somewhere!”

I’m immediately wet. (It happens fast at my age.) He suggests the exact two bars in Santa Monica I was going to suggest. Power of the Leo and Sagittarius. (I probs just lost nine readers by referencing astrology.)

I get to Rick’s on Main Street slightly before him. I don’t have my real glasses on me, cuz I’ve been wearing my prescription sunglasses all day. Didn’t expect to be out past sunset, cuz that’s Malibu “night life.” So I’m going to be mildly blind all night. People always tell me,

“You should get laser eye surgery.”

Why the fuck would I do that? My glasses cover at least a dozen lines on my face. I’m thinking about getting a new pair, with thicker rims. I’m growing out bangs next. The date will be fine as long as I don’t send him into the kitchen when he asks where the bathroom is.

Now here’s the grey area…

Do I tell my bf right now that I’m going to meet this crush? I don’t know anything is going to happen. There’s a good chance we will just be two (ASTROLOGICAL PERFECT MATCHES) drinking buddies in a bar. Two comics, talking shop. Do we really need to set off the alarm before there’s a fire? As per my communication skills, I think def not. Like this blog, I will leave it till the last minute. (Typed at 3:13am, 4:45am after proofreading.)

I’m pretty sure I look like shit, but the good thing about somebody knowing me through comedy, is they always see me looking like shit. I’ve never been super comfortable looking “good” on stage. Maybe this comes from starting stand up 19 years ago, and always fearing women wouldn’t like me if I looked pretty. Most of the women in a comedy club are on dates, and I would literally get glares as they gripped their men. So early in my career, I started to wear hoodies on stage, and cover as much skin as possible. It was my passive aggressive way of saying,

“Don’t look at me. Listen to me.”

(Also, “I’m not here to steal your boyfriend. I’m here to make forty bucks.”)

This is another reason I love the rise of feminism: I pray it means the death of catty-ism. (An energy I sadly grew up with.)

So ya, back to the poly stuff: I’m on an impromptu date with my crush, my bf doesn’t really know, I look like shit, but can’t see that cuz I left my glasses at home. He walks in the bar and I’m almost in shock that we’re together. I think it’s been months since we’ve been in the same room together. And since when did I start going after things I want…?

I’m shockingly comfortable around him. That’s a plus about bonding with someone while you’re in a relationship. You don’t try as hard to sell yourself as when you’re single. You’re just you, and if they don’t like it, who cares? (I admire people who are like this all the time.)

He suggests we go to Chez Jay next. Ooooooooh, I love a new bar. Never been. So excited. Even more excited that he’s ditched his car, and will get it in the morning. I love a man who drinks responsibly. (Is this how I book a MADD commercial, or do I still need to have babies?)

Chez Jay is great. I like having bars like this on my radar. The conversation is going steady, tho I’m praying my primary and polyamory doesn’t come up. I just want to enjoy this night, as it is. The same way I did as a single person. I really don’t want to dive into the politics of it all. I think I’m more terrified that talking about it will scare him away…

When Chez Jay closes, he asks me if I wanna come over for some porch beers.

Yup. You know I do.

Again… is this the moment I text my bf and let him know I’m going over to a guy’s house? I mean technically, there’s a good chance nothing will happen. Seems too soon to ring the alarm. And if there’s one expression comedians know, it’s “too soon.”

He gets us an Uber/Lyft, whichever- most cars in town have both stickers. When we get to his house, I hit the bathroom. Every girl’s most investigative move in a dude’s house. Is his hand towel also his bath towel? Is this a one towel wonder situation? Does he own toilet paper? I don’t make it that far, because I’ve sprayed surprise period all over my undies. (If those Tumblr names didn’t scare you away, this surely will, eh?)

I search the cupboards for anything remotely handy in this moment. There’s nothing. Maybe I should hit the kitchen, and look for coffee filters. Those should work, right?

Nah, I’ll just do the ol’ “tie toilet paper around my underwear” move. It’s the move you do when you first get your period, in case you don’t know. (I FEEL SO YOUNG AGAIN! MAYBE I DON’T NEED BANGS!)

Porch beers are the best. I’m a fan of his roommates. We’re all having a great time, but then… 

Something more unexpected than my bloody kitty happens. This beautiful, young blonde chick walks up to the porch.

“Hey, I live across the street. All my friends went to sleep, so I thought I’d come introduce myself.”

Holy. Mother. Trucker. It’s 3:00am. This isn’t the moment I was expecting competition…

But here we are.

The guys grab her a beer. Now again, I am not into “catty-ism.” BUT- I am a share holder of “insecurity-ism.” And if I were any one of these guys on this porch, I would def hit on this chick instead of me. She’s legit extremely cool. There’s a part of me that wonders if this is fate’s little way of saying,

You’re not ready to pop your poly cherry yet.

I never rang the alarm. I can still get out of this… innocently?

Either way, I think she might be might be my personal savior (another word I spell wrong cuz I’m Canadian and think there’s a “u” in it.)

“Do you have a tampon?”

“Of course! Come on over!”

She takes me over to her apartment, and literally gives me all her pads cuz she doesn’t use them. Bonus. My favourite sleep aid. I fucking love this girl.

We head back over to the boys, and I know I’m drunk, bleeding and tired. I ask my crush if there’s a place I can crash. He escorts me to his roommate’s room, and tucks me in. (Don’t worry- the roommate wasn’t there. That would have been the real poly, eh?)

As I fall asleep, like a loser at a slumber party who goes to bed first, I can’t help but think,

“He’s a great guy. She’s a great girl. If they hook up, I’m fine with it.”

PRACTICE COMPERSION! Why is compersion so much easier when you’re not dating someone? I fall asleep/pass out- which ever you like to believe at this hour. In the morning, I wake up in a super funny comedian’s bed. Alone. I make the bed, as a sure fire way to say “a chick was here” and text my crush.

“Oh I wanna say bye, but I don’t know what room is yours.”

I can’t just knock on random doors… Plus he might not be alone. I def don’t want to interrupt kinky times with the pad donor. All of a sudden, one of the roommates pops out of his room. I ask him which room is _______’s and he shows me. In this moment, I know I’m risking becoming a piece of gossip my boyfriend might hear… 

And not through me…

I lightly knock on the door. When I hear a groggy “come in” I open the door.

There’s NO hot, cool, tampon savior chick in his bed. He’s just sleeping, post drinking style, alone.

“Oh, I just wanted to say goodbye…”

And then, without saying another word, I crawl into bed with him. 

[golddaggers]

Cute Little Family

*requested

imagine: you and scott go out to get a puppy together and things end up getting heatedly. 

warnings: cursing, oral sex (both receiving), fingering, public sex. I guess that’s it. 

word count: 2420

“I still think this is a bad idea, honey.”

“Oh, no, Scott.” I muttered whilst shaking my head in denial, not believing for a second that he would dare to start up with that shit again. “We're getting a puppy and that's it. Don't even try to talk me out of it, you know you suck at arguing with me.”

“Fine. This isn't over, though.”

“Alright.”

Giggling, I left the frowning man behind and started to explore the huge house, watching closely the distinct breeds of dogs scattered in small white fences. This particular place was a farm upstate, meaning that we had to travel for a couple of hours to get there, but I was so excited that I didn't even mind.

Ever since I was a kid, I always enjoyed a lot the animal company, choosing every time to be amongst them rather than being with the ordinary humans. However, due to my parents’ work, I kept moving from city to city, which forbid me to have a pet of my own. Of course it saddened me deeply, but I understood the reasons beneath it and I learnt to work things out.

Everything changed when I moved to small town called Beacon Hills. My dad started working at the police station and my mum at the local Hospital, both at firm jobs, therefore allowing us to finally have a spot to call ours. Yet, that wasn't why I loved it so much. It was there I met the most amazing people in world, my friends, and a super stubborn boyfriend, whom I admired to the bone, despite his apparent hate towards dogs. Might be the competition though, considering the boy is an alpha werewolf.

Oh, yes! My caring partner, besides being that, was also a supernatural creature. The most powerful of them. And I was his mate. It is sort of a complicated story.

“How do you like them so far?” Scott quizzed, gripping my shoulders and pulling me towards his chest, leaning in so he could kiss the crook of my neck, sending chills all the way down my spine. “Huh, babe?”

“Stop that.” I purred back, eyes slightly hooded. “I don't want to rip your clothes off and ride you in front of all these adorable puppies.”

“If you keep talking like that, I'm the one who's going to do the ripping.”

I laughed, pulling out of his embrace and tuning around, capturing a gaze filled with sin. The smirk that curled his lips wasn't exactly pure either. Urgh, I was going to kill him for doing that to me in public spaces, especially when he knew I was right about to enter my heat period.

“You smell so damn good…” His voice sounded extremely soft on my ear, again erupting a series of jitters. I just couldn't resist the sensations the black haired boy gave to me. “Fuck, babe.”

“Stop with teasing me, Scott…”

Upon hearing those words, McCall swiftly pressed me up against a wall, sucking love bites on every ounce of skin his tongue managed to find. In the light of such actions, the wetness inside my panties started to increase considerably, making me throw my head back, feeling his hands sneak down, finding the hem of my dress and playing with it as he kept savouring me. I couldn't avoid the strangled moan that left my lips.

“Sh, we don't want anyone to hear it, do we?”

I nodded weakly and watched while Scott got down on his knees, yanking my hips closer to his face. Afterwards, the boy stuck his head in between my legs without reservations; I could feel his warm breath fanning over my clothed pussy, making me clench instantaneously in anticipation. He placed a single kiss on it, his tongue slowly sliding down, wetting the fabric with his saliva.

“My poor wolfy needs her alpha, doesn't she?” Another pant crawled out my lips whilst I blurted out an “yes”. He chuckled, strongly gripping the back of my thighs, poking my clit with his nose. I wasn't going to last long if he kept this game going. “Very well, I must fulfill her wish then.”

My boyfriend pushed my knickers to one side, revealing my throbbing core, and didn't hesitate to dive into it. While his mouth done wonders, I felt two digits being pushed inside my slit, hitting sweet spots and provoking a couple of low groans. Senseless, I instinctively bucked my hips forwards, trying to deepen the intimate contact. Scott growled, pinning them on the wall, speeding up the pace, thus bringing me insanely close to a damn good orgasm.

“Oh, shit.” I muttered, chewing my bottom lip to avoid the pornographic sounds I so desperately wanted to make. “I love the way your pretty tongue licks my clit, babe. Keep doing just that. Fuck.”

“Does my baby girl want to be fucked by it?”

Although the tall man had made a question, he sure as hell didn't give me time to answer it. In a blink of an eye, my leg was placed on his shoulder, widening my entrance to him, nearly making it look like I was a buffet and he was going to feast on it. His fingers were drawn out of my aching pussy, they were glistening with my juices still when Scott began circling my bundle of nerves with them. However, the breaking point was the silky touch of his tongue on my core, pounding in and out at a hellish stride.

A couple of more thrusts, along the constant stroking, and I came loudly, yelling for him. His name falling over and over again from my lips. I couldn't help it. My entire form was shaking. Plus, if Scott wasn't holding me, I would have fallen to the ground, for my legs were limp. My high had won me over completely.

With a proud smile on his lips, McCall stood up straight, snaking an arm around my waist to keep me in a normal standing position. I was still breathless when an old lady showed up, her eyebrows scrunched together, and asked if we were okay. The glasses lying on the tip of her nose made her look severer than she probably was, which drove me to be nervous, because I was clearly doing something I shouldn't.

“Oh yeah, thanks.” Scott waved her off, wearing his good boy smile. The woman's traits softened and she walked to us, offering to show us around. “That would be lovely.”

“Than come along.” She said, after Scott happily accepted her proposition. “We will hopefully found a perfect pet for you.”

“I'm sure we will!”

With the lady explaining each breed's particularities, I found myself more and more in doubt of which I should take home. Also, I was a bit tipsy from the mind blowing climax from earlier. Although I didn't want to, my mind kept going back to those scenes, getting my panties soaked up all over again.

Scott cleared his throat, forcing me to look at a small litter of German shepherd puppies which were grunting and clawing the small white fence that held them together. The second I laid my eyes on those little things, I knew it had to be love at first sight.

“Those.” I said, approaching the gorgeous babies. There, I knelt, exposing my knuckles to them, feeling the puppies biting them playfully. Yes, it was damn right choice. “I want one.”

“Oh, they are lovely! I'm sure it will fit you well if you want protection.”

“That's not my worry. But I'll take one anyway.”

“Alright.” The woman nodded lightly. “Do you want a male or female?”

“Male.”

“Female.”

“Scott!”

“What?”

“I'm the one who's choosing.”

“But I don't want a male dog!”

“Sadly, that is not up to you.” I picked up one, once the lovely lady told me which ones were male, and held him close to my chest. “This is it, thanks.”

“Okay, I’ll fill in the paperwork and then I'll just need your signature.”

“Fine.”

The same way she appeared, the woman left us alone quickly, disappearing within the dark corridors. I glanced at Scott, who had his arms crossed and was frowning angrily, obviously not pleased with my decision.

“What?”

“You better know you're paying the big bucks for this.”

“By big bucks you mean fucking me until I'm senseless?”

“You bet I am.”

“Then I'm looking forward to pay the big bucks, darling.”

Grunting, he followed me to the front door, where I signed, rather swiftly, the adoption papers. Afterwards, I matched to the Mercedes parked outside, resting my back against it and watching Scott approach slightly upset. Yet, albeit his traits looked as if he had chewed lemons, I knew Scott wasn't really that mad. Matter fact, I was sure he was loving the whole situation.

“Come on, Scotty.” The mellow sound that left my lips broke the twenty minute silence he built up once he started driving. “Don't be so mad. Didn't I say I was going to make it up to you?”

“I'm not mad, darling.”

“Of course you are!”

“No, I'm not.”

Sighing, slightly frustrated, I slided my hand up and down his right thigh, feeling its warmth against my palm whilst Scott moved uncomfortable in his seat. A smug smirk curved my lips as I kept going up, only stopping when my digits were dangerously close to his crotch; the contact made him gaze at me with eyes narrowed, mouth hanging open.

“Stop with that, please.”

“Stop with what exactly, baby?”

“Provoking me!” He abruptly stopped the car, hitching the tires on the road by doing so. “How am I supposed to go home like this? It's so fucking uncomfortable!”

My eyes fell to the bulge underneath his trousers, which made me chuckle softly; poor boy was in need of a helping hand. Maintaining the amused traits, also not saying a word, I carefully placed the doggy on the back seats, preventing him to see what was going to happen next. Once the little animal was safe and sound, I went back to my place, guiding my hands to slowly massage his hard on, hearing him grunt while biting his bottom lip.

“Get rid of those for me, baby.” I asked, staring at him with all the desire I had within me. My entire body was lit, craving to be touched, to be pleased. And McCall was painfully aware of it, so he didn't hesitate to kick off the pieces of clothing he had on, exposing his length to me, causing my mouth to water instantaneously. “Good boy.”

“Now what, babe?”

“Oh, Scotty, don't worry.” Wetting my lips, I started to position myself so I could reach the place he needed me the most. Scott's breath hitched on his throat when I got too close to his twitching cock, staring at it with desire. “I'll help you blow off some steam. What do you think of that?”

“T-That’s great.” He stuttered, sticking his fingers on his hair, anxiously. I couldn't help but think he looked incredibly cute all nervous for me.

Not being able to hold any longer, I firmly supported my elbows on his seat, clutching his throbbing dick and giving it light pumps, just to set the mood. As I moved up and down with my hand, I could feel my own sex getting slicker, for the whole scene was overwhelmingly hot to me. I just couldn't help myself.

Scott, noticing my bad shape, reached my backside, slapping it hard and roughly shoving two fingers inside me. I groaned, finally placing a wet kiss on his tip, gaining a raspy moan as a response. Satisfied with the outcome, I started to playfully swivel my tongue around it, sensing him tensing up under my touch.  

“Go all the way, babe.” McCall pleaded, hoarsely. “Please.”

Deciding to grant his wish once and for all, I sank down on him, swallowing his cock until it reached the back of my throat, eliciting a gag mixed with a silky, girlish moan. Saliva started to drip from the corners of my mouth as the movements got slightly tougher. The alpha werewolf growled, soaked in pleasure, and grabbed a fistful of my hair with his left hand whilst the other one slammed into me using two of its digits.

“O-oh, babe.” The boy murmured, tightening the grip on my hair. “You have such a nice mouth!”

I could feel that he was insanely close to his orgasm, which drove me to intensify my tongue work. My nails were sliding down, scraping the bare skin of his thighs, erupting a series of low, raspy pants and causing him to curse under his breath.

Sweat coated my forehead, I could feel the droplets falling as I continued to bob my head and up down on Scott's length. As for me, the built up tension on my lower stomach only grew worse by the second. I knew I was on the verge of my second peak. However, before I could get there, my boyfriend screamed, cumming in hot spurts inside my mouth without any kind of warning. He squeezed my ass, giving another set of thrusting until his high was over. I gulped it down, raising my gaze to observe his blissful state.

“Feeling better, darling?” I quizzed, turning around and lying on my back, my head on his lap. Scott was trying to even his breath, but he didn't mind to start circling my bundle of nerves again. “Oh, shit.”

“I said you're paying the big bucks.” His tepid fingers dipped on my entrance, making me screw my eyes shut and feel the tension all over again. “Count it up.”

“Don't stop, S-Scott.”

Taking his stride to a whole other level, I wasn't exactly surprise when I came undone in a short amount of time. Scott's name slipped through my lips in loud squeals while I arched my back, the climax winning my form over. Feeling completely fulfilled, I just heard our ragged breaths mingle and let out a tired laugh.

“Can you please be nice now?”

“Oh, my darling, if getting mad at you means I get a blow job like that, get ready to be mad all the time.”

“You're a jerk, Scott.”

“A jerk that loves you.”

“I love you too.”

Pecking my lips, he helped me back up and we went on with our little trip, both completely happy to have one another and to have started our own cute little family.

[attractive-asshole]

confessions of a hormonal exo member

pairing: sebaek length: oneshot (6K+ wc) rating: nc-17 genre: smut, non!au warnings/kinks: dirty talk, cross dressing, masturbation, fingering, oppa!kink  

baekhyun dressed as a girl does dangerous things to sehun. 

AFF / AO3 / LJ  or read under the cut below (unbetaed so please excuse any mistakes)

It was a quiet Friday night in the dorm when Baekhyun found himself lying on his bed, scrolling through the comments on his latest instagram post and smiling at the comments from their fans.

Most of the members were out and about, leaving the dorm almost empty and unusually quiet. Junmyeon, Minseok, and Jongdae were out watching a movie, though Baekhyun didn’t know why Junmyeon was willing to be the third wheel. The three giants, aka Sehun, Chanyeol, and Jongin, were out for a walk around the city. Jongin was probably taking dumb photos and videos of the other two to post on their Instagrams.

Kyungsoo was in his room watching his third movie of the day, probably something dramatic and sad that was going to make him cry even though he always denied it.

 Yixing had stopped by the dance room to practice a new choreography he was working on; Baekhyun told him not to overwork himself and hurt his hip again. He scrolled through all the “I love you oppa!”s and wishes for him to rest well, smiling and giggling to himself as he read through them. 

He stopped when a certain comment caught his eye, a link. He clicked on it and the web page redirected him to what looked like a fan’s blog. ‘SeBaek Oneshot (NC-17),’ it read on the top of the page. An amused chuckle left his lips after reading it.

“So fans actually write this stuff huh…”

Scrolling down, he read the description of the story before scrolling down further to read the fic. It mentioned that it was inspired by the time he dressed up as a girl and that it contained an “oppa kink,” he wondered what that even meant. It started off normal, he occasionally laughed at the jokes and funny moments here and there. 

He wondered why it was rated NC-17 when there wasn’t anything inappropriate and was impressed with the author for coming up with such a creative plot. Once he got closer to the end was when things got a bit more interesting.

‘Baekhyun could feel himself hardening in the confines of his jeans as Sehun’s big hands palmed him through the denim.’

A quiet gasp escaped his mouth as he quickly sat up from his bed, holding his phone closer to his face as if he couldn’t believe what he just saw. He continued reading, his face warming up as he read through the foreplay written in the story.

‘S-Sehun oppa put it i-in already. Please.’

He quickly put his phone down and released the breath he didn’t even realize he was holding.

“What the fuck…” he muttered, “There’s no way I would be that needy. And there is no way I would ever call that idiot ‘oppa’!”

Images of the younger hovering over him, hands roaming all over his body started to fill his head. “W-What am I saying? Pft There’s no way I would even have sex with Sehun in the first place, it’s just a stupid story.”  

He could feel himself slowly starting to harden at the thought of Sehun’s gripping his waist and lips on his neck. He shook his head to get rid of the thoughts and took a deep breath before picking up his phone once again and closing the tab.

“I’m never reading fanfic again…”

****

The next couple of days were uneventful; they didn’t have anything on their schedule the whole week so the members took the opportunity to get rest and relax. 

Baekhyun, however, was having a rather difficult time relaxing ever since he stumbled upon the fanfic the other night. He had told himself it wouldn’t let it bother him, but he couldn’t stop thinking about it. Or rather, he couldn’t stop thinking about Sehun. 

They hadn’t really talked or seen each other-Baekhyun made sure of it, always leaving the dorm whenever Sehun was home and only coming out of his room whenever Sehun had gone somewhere with Chanyeol or Jongin.

He knew he was being irrational and that he wouldn’t be able to avoid the younger forever, but he couldn’t help it. Whenever he would make eye contact with Sehun, he could feel his entire face heat up and all the thoughts from that night come rushing back into his head. 

Baekhyun sighed, dropping his head onto the dining room table. It was about ten at night, Sehun had gone out with Junmyeon for ice cream or something so Baekhyun knew he had some time to unwind before the two came back. He reached into his pocket to pull out his phone when a voice suddenly startled him.

“Hey, hyung.”

The phone dropped from his hands and fell onto the floor right next to the owner of the voice’s feet.

“W-What?” Baekhyun stuttered.

Sehun bent down to pick up the phone, their hands touching ever-so-slightly as he handed it to the elder. Baekhyun felt slightly nauseous and Sehun gave him a suspicious look for acting so weird.

“What’s wrong with you?” Sehun frowned, “Why are you so jumpy.”

“Nothing, you just scared me. I thought you were out with Junmyeon-hyung?”  

“Didn’t feel like going,” he shrugged, “He went with Yixing-hyung instead. Wanna watch a movie? No one else is up for it.”

Baekhyun wracked his brain for an excuse, though he felt bad he was practically lying to the younger. “Uhm...I’m kind of tired actually.”

Sehun pouted, grabbing onto the other’s arm and swinging it like a child trying to convince it’s mother of buying candy while in line at the grocery store. “Come on hyung, please? I feel like we haven’t hung out in days.”

The elder sighed and gave in. He mentally cursed the maknae for always getting whatever he wanted using his stupid aegyo.

****

Baekhyun hoped he would be able to sit somewhere not so close to Sehun so that the whole movie would be somewhat bearable; however, those dreams were crushed when the younger dragged him onto the couch right next to him.

Baekhyun nearly cried in frustration, but forced an awkward smile on his face nonetheless when Sehun asked him if he was comfortable before popping the DVD into the player. 

Baekhyun tried to focus on the movie, he really did, but with Sehun being so close and their thighs touching and Sehun’s arm resting behind his head and almost around his shoulder, Baekhyun felt like he was about to throw up. He hated himself for ever reading that stupid fanfic in the first place.

Things were normal before, he was able to hang out with Sehun before. Now all he could think about was how much bigger the younger was and how broad his shoulders were and how nice it would feel to have those pink lips on his neck or those hands on his body. He mentally groaned when he caught himself secretly stealing glances at the other.

Snap out of it Byun Baekhyun! 

This is just Sehun, he thought, just the dorky maknae he loved to tease and joke around with- nothing different (or so he tried to tell himself). The movie finally ended about an hour and a half later, Baekhyun was extremely grateful it had Sehun’s full attention so that the younger didn’t notice how strange Baekhyun was acting.

Right when Sehun was about to ask him if he enjoyed the movie, the elder got up from the couch, muttered a ‘goodnight’ and shuffled off to his room, leaving a confused maknae all alone in the living room.

****

“Has Baek-hyung been acting weird to you?”

Jongin thought about it for a few seconds as he ate a spoonful of his chocolate cereal. “No, what do you mean?”

The other sighed, pushing the little cereal bits floating atop the milk aimlessly. “I don’t know...He’s just been acting weird like he’s avoiding me or something and he’s been really quiet.”

“He’s been acting normal around me,” Jongin shrugged.

The sad puppy dog look on the younger’s face and his lack of appetite for his favorite cereal let Jongin know how much it was actually bothering Sehun.

“Look I’m sure it’s nothing, he’s probably just mad about something you did. You know how petty he is, just go talk to him.”

****

Baekhyun didn’t know how he ended back to that godforsaken website. He had full intentions of checking the comments on his latest Instagram post and then heading off to bed; but here he was, scrolling through that fangirl’s blog once again, looking for that one story he never finished reading.

I just wanna know how it ends, not a big deal. It’s not like I’m weird or anything, I just want to finish what I started.

He felt his palms clamming up and his heartbeat quicken once he spotted it. Taking a deep breath, he clicked on the link and scrolled down to find where he had left off the other night.

‘Sehun groaned as he felt the hot heat of the elder envelop his dick.’

“Oh my god…” Baekhyun whispered to himself as he read the words, feeling his entire body warm up and that familiar pool of heat in the pit of his stomach grow the more he read.

‘Baekhyun moaned as he bucked his hips up, begging for the younger to go fa-’

“Hey, hyung-”

The phone fell from his hands as his head whipped toward the voice as soon as the door opened to reveal the last person he’d want to see.

“S-Sehun, hey. Did you need something?”

“Uhm I just wanted to talk to you,” the younger looked at him curiously and then down at his fallen phone, “What were you doing?”

Baekhyun swallowed hard, grabbing his phone and locking it. He also grabbed onto the blanket to casually throw over his lap to hide the subtle bulge in his sweatpants before the younger saw and embarrass himself any further.

“Nothing, you know just- Instagram and stuff.”

Sehun didn’t really buy it, but decided to brush it off since he came here to talk to the elder about something. “Right...Well I just uh wanted to ask you if you were mad at me or anything.”

Baekhyun was somewhat shocked by his question. Why would he be mad at him? “No, of course not. Why would you ask that? Did you do something?”

“No! No it’s because you’ve been acting weird and quiet around me. I was just wondering if I did anything to piss you off.”

There it was, the guilt. It was almost eating Baekhyun alive. He knew he was being unfair to Sehun, the younger didn’t do anything wrong and he had been avoiding him like the plague when they were suppose to be spending time together now that they actually had free time in their usually busy schedules.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean- I’ve just been really tired but I’m starting to feel better so why don’t we go out for bubble tea tomorrow? My treat.”

“Alright, deal.” He smiled cutely at the elder before exiting and closing the door behind him.

The smile disappeared from the elder���s face as soon as the door closed and he fell back onto the bed with a load groan.

You really need to get your shit other Byun Baekhyun.

He lied on the bed for a few minutes feeling sorry for himself, then decided to get off his ass and do something productive. After rummaging through his closet for a nice clean set of t-shirt and sweatpants, he hopped into the shower and let the water wash away his shame. 

Meanwhile, Sehun forgot to ask Baekhyun what time they were suppose to go tomorrow since he had already made plans with Jongin to go to the practice room around noon. He headed back to the elder’s room, promptly entering when there was no reply to his knocking.

He was greeted with an empty room, then realized the elder was probably in the shower after hearing the water running from across the hall. Something on the bed caught his eye, stopping him right as he was about to exit the room. Baekhyun’s phone. 

Weird, Sehun thought, the elder usually used to listen to music while he was showering. He figured Baekhyun probably forgot since he’d been so tired. The more he stared at it, the more he wondered why Baekhyun was acting so weird earlier when he came into his room. I wonder if he was watching porn... 

His hands were practically itching to get ahold of it and see for himself. Telling himself to leave it alone and go, he slowly made his way out of the room; however, curiosity got the best of him and before he knew it, he was quickly and quietly closing the door behind him and jumping onto the messy bed to grab the phone.  

He punched in Baekhyun’s passcode which he remembered from last time the elder let him use his phone to call his own when he had lost it. It was somewhat of a shock when he saw that the other had been reading something, he wasn’t expecting anything like that. 

Looking back at the door, he checked to make sure Baekhyun was about to barge into the room anytime soon before scrolling up to see what the elder was reading. ‘SeBaek Oneshot (NC-17),’ he mouthed out the title of the page. Sebaek? Like the name the fans came up with for me and Baek-hyung?

“NC-17? What does that mean?” he whispered to himself as he scrolled back down to check out the story.

He stopped when a certain word on the page caught his eye. ‘Sehun-oppa’ He swallowed hard, tried to push the dirty thoughts of Baekhyun calling him that out of his head as he continued reading the story. 

His entire body heat up as the explicit words painted pictures of the elder dressed up as a schoolgirl in his head. He did have to admit he thought Baekhyun looked really good when he first saw him dressed like that for the VCR at their concert, not that he would ever admit it outloud. 

The tent in his pants was not-so-subtle by the time he heard footsteps coming toward the room.

“Shit, shit, shit!” He quickly locked the phone and placed it back onto the bed where he found it and shoved his hands into the pockets of his hoodie to hide the erection he didn’t even realize he had. Baekhyun’s head popped in through the door open, the elder looking quite surprised to see Sehun in the room.

“Hey, did you need something?”

“Uh I-I just wanted to ask you what time we’re going tomorrow.” He felt his hands clamming up as he stuttered on his words.

“Anytime you want, I’m free all day,” Baekhyun grinned at him. The younger felt his heart racing in his chest as he awkwardly past Baekhyun to get out the door.

“Alright cool, see you tomorrow then!”

Baekhyun didn’t get the chance to squeeze in a reply before the other was running to his room.

****

Sehun slammed the door behind him, thanking the gods when he saw that Junymeon wasn’t in the room. A frustrated sigh left his lips when he lifted up his hoodie to reveal the tent in his pants. 

He felt an odd sense of guilt that he was turned on by the thoughts of his band member dressed up as a girl and calling him ‘oppa’. Why was Baekhyun even reading that?

Was that why he had been acting so weird lately? Nothing made sense to him at the moment. 

He felt confused and all he could think about was the fucking problem in his pants and how good the elder looked in that skirt. He didn’t know it happened but the next thing he knew he was palming himself through his jeans, biting back the pleasured moan threatening to come out.

He swiftly unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, shoving his hand into his boxer briefs to wrap his fingers around his hard length. Precum was already leaking through his underwear, he felt extremely embarrassed at how turned on he was.

This was Baekhyun for god’s sake, he had never even thought of the elder like that before, but now all he could think about was Baekhyun’s cute pink lips and how nice it would be to have them wrapped around his dick and how good it would look to have those droopy brown eyes looking up at him as he teased the tip of his dick.

 He lowered his boxers and jeans, pulling his member out from its confines and began slowly stroking it, up and down. His chest heaving as he quietly panted. He bit back the moan as he squeezed a little harder, imagining that it was the elder’s slender, pretty fingers wrapped around his dick, teasing him by changing his pace.

“Fuck,” he breathed out.

He imagined Baekhyun’s playful smirk as he thumbed the head of his dick, a wave of pleasure rocked throughout his body as he touched himself.

“B-Baekhyun-hyung,” he panted through gritted teeth.

Quickening his pace, he stroked himself, trying to chase after that climax that felt so close. He closed his eyes, tilting his head back to rest it on the door behind him, picturing Baekhyun on his knees in that cute little skirt with black thigh socks around his thick, supple thighs.  

He groaned at the thought of the elder seductively calling him ‘oppa,’ coaxing the climax from him. It wasn’t long ‘til he was coming with a moan of the elder’s name, white ribbons shooting out onto the floor of his and Junmyeon’s shared room. He slowly stroked his length, working himself through the orgasm, breathing heavily as he tried to calm down.

What did I just do?

****

Sehun canceled their bubble tea date the next day, claiming he wasn’t feeling too good. Although he tried, Baekhyun didn’t a good job of hiding his disappointment when Sehun had said he didn’t feel like going. The younger felt terribly guilty, considering he was the one that said they hadn’t spent much time together, but it wasn’t like he totally lied. 

He wasn’t feeling good. 

Ever since last night and after what he did, he still couldn’t believe he jerked off to the thought of his hyung and he liked it. All he wanted to do was stay in bed all day and wallow in his misery and confusion. Was it just his hormones acting up or was he actually attracted to Baekhyun? His thoughts were interrupted when Chanyeol’s booming voice and obnoxious laughter coming from the living room.

“Hey guys! Come look at Baek!”

Sehun’s ears quirked at the sound of the elder’s name, his curiosity forcing him to go outside to check out what was going on.

There he was, in all his glory, twirling around in that skirt that haunted Sehun’s dreams at night with that damn wig. Sehun really could not believe his eyes, Baekhyun dressed up in that uniform was the last thing he wanted to see right now.

“Why are you wearing that thing again?” Jongdae managed to ask through fits of laughter.

“Manager-hyung said they wanted me to take some pics for the fans. Don’t I look pretty?” He playfully asked.

“I seriously don’t think I’ll ever get use to you like this,” Minseok chuckled.

“Sehun, doesn’t he look funny?” Chanyeol laughed hysterically, slapping the younger’s arm.

“Y-Yeah,” he awkwardly chuckled, not being able to take his eyes off Baekhyun.

Baekhyun laughed along with everyone, playing into his role of a schoolgirl and doing aegyo to gross everyone out.

“Come on, Minseok-oppa you don’t think I’m pretty?”

Minseok grimaced, threatened to hit the other if he said that again. Everyone laughed, everyone but Sehun. As soon as those words left Baekhyun’s mouth, Sehun’s mouth went dry, he couldn’t help but think how nice it would sound if the elder said that to him. 

He cleared his throat before muttering an excuse to go back into the safety of his room. There was a soft knock at his door when he plopped down face first into his bed. He asked who it was and before he got a reply, the door opened up.

“It is I, Exo’s favorite fangirl,” Baekhyun giggled.

The younger mentally screamed, but weakly chuckled in response.

“Don’t I look adorable, Sehun-oppa?” Baekhyun chuckled as he twirled around in attempt to make the younger feel better since he had seemed pretty down earlier.

Sehun swallowed hard, “Yeah, you do.”

The elder slightly tensed at his words, not exactly the response he was expecting.

He lightly laughed, brushing off what the younger just said, “Jongdae said this will forever be burned into his mind.”

“Did you hear me, hyung? I meant what I said.”

He rose from the bed and walked toward the shorter. Baekhyun forced out a laugh, scratching the back of his head and looking down to avoid eye contact. “R-Really? Thanks I think you’re the only one that thinks I look good.”

The words left Sehun’s mouth before he could even register what he was about to say. “I think you look more than good, hyung. You look hot .”

The elder took a step back, words caught in his throat in his flustered state. That fluttery feeling was back in his stomach, his heart was beating so fast he was worried the other could hear it. What was Sehun even saying right now? Was he playing some sick joke because Baekhyun was just about ready to drop dead right there.

 The taller took a step closer, effectively backing the shorter up against the wall. Baekhyun flinched when the other placed his hand flat against the wall beside his head. His mouth hung open in shock, eyes fixed on the taller’s chest as he leaned down, closing the distance between the two.

“Call me oppa again,” Sehun said lowly into the other’s ear.

Baekhyun’s breath hitched hearing the younger’s request. His mind felt blank, the room felt hot, and everything felt so surreal. His bottom lip started to redden between his teeth and he slowly opened his mouth to speak, but before he could the door began open and Sehun was off and away from him in the blink of an eye.

“Hey guys we’re about to go eat,” Chanyeol said, “Baek you gonna change before we go or are you gonna stay in that?”

Baekhyun quickly snapped out of his daze, taking a second to gather his thoughts before managing to form a coherent sentence. “S-Shut up, you idiot. Of course I’m gonna go change,” he huffed and stomped out of the room. On his way out he tried his best not to look at Sehun, but he felt the younger’s eyes following up as he walked away.

What the fuck just happened?

****

Dinner was awkward, to say the least.

Well at least for two certain members it was.

Baekhyun practically shoved his way between Chanyeol and Yixing so that he wouldn’t accidentally get a seat next to the maknae. Sehun sat at the end of table next to Jongin and spent the entire night stealing glances at the elder between spoonfuls of rice and soup. 

The younger’s piercing gaze was everything but subtle, Baekhyun could feel it burning through his head as he looked down as his food, trying his best not to make eye contact.

“You okay? You’re not eating your food,” Yixing asked with a soft nudge of his shoulder.

The other nodded, giving him a reassuring smile, “I’m just not that hungry, had a big lunch.”

How could he possibly be hungry at a time like this? Food was the last thing on his mind. No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t get the images of Sehun towering over him, lips grazing the shell of his ear, hot breath sending a shiver down his spine. 

His body slowly heated up at the thought, pants feeling a little uncomfortable around his crotch, a light pink dusting at the apples of his cheeks and a nice shade of rose creeped up the tips of his ears. He felt so confused. What would have happened if Chanyeol didn’t walk in? What was Sehun trying to do? 

What did Sehun mean when he said those things? Baekhyun honestly did not know what he would have said to the younger if Chanyeol hadn’t interrupted him. It felt so surreal, like he had been thrown into that stupid story he read that night and he didn’t know how to feel about it. Did he want something to happen between them?

****

“Hyung, hyung can you put on that schoolgirl uniform again? Me and Chanyeol-hyung wanna prank Taemin,” Jongin snickered evilly.

Baekhyun rolled his eyes, laughed at the two for their immaturity but agreed to do it nonetheless, but not before making the two promise not to post any of the photos anywhere; the last thing he needed was more pictures of him as a girl all over the internet.

 Baekhyun excitedly ran to his room to grab the uniform from the back of his closet, never in a million years did he think he would be putting this on again, but it was for a good cause so quickly stripped himself of his clothing and slipped on the loose top and flowy skirt before running back out into the living room.

“Okay I’m ready for my photoshoot.”

“Wait we bought these stockings put them on too.”

Baekhyun stared at the black thigh highs before raising his brows at the two, “You guys actually went out and bought these just for the pictures?”

“Well we were out and saw them and then realized how fun it would be to prank Taemin since he has a thing for nice legs so we got em. Now hurry, put them on!”

The eldest shook his head as he put them on, pulling them all the way up  mid-thigh, he really could not believe he was doing this.

“You guys are so weird,” he mumbled.

Jongin got down on his knees, holding his phone up to get the right angle to where Baekhyun’s face wasn’t visible, giggling at the image on the screen.

“This looks so real, it’s gonna be so fucking funny when we tell him it’s Baekhyun-hyung.”

They broke out into laughter as they realized how ridiculous they were being.  Baekhyun posed cutely for the photos, teasingly lifting up his skirt to reveal the thigh highs, Chanyeol and Jongin pretended to gag at his actions.

“You’re a little too good at this,” Chanyeol noted, a playful grimace etched into his face.

The shorter shot a him a mischievous wink, “What can I say, I was born to be a model.”

****

Considering the fact that he had been living with twelve guys for a few years now, there was not much that surprised Sehun anymore. From Tao walking around in his boxers whining for someone to shower with him at midnight to Chanyeol bringing his bicycle after a ride in the park and storing it in Jongin’s room(God knows why he has to keep it inside their dorm), he would like to think he had seen it all. 

But when he come home after a long workout, one that Junmyeon practically forced him to go to along with Minseok, the sight that presented itself before his eyes had him so shocked he almost had to leave the room and come back in to make sure what he was seeing was indeed, real.

“Do I even want to know what you guys are doing?” Junmyeon sighed, shaking his head as he set his gym bag down onto the floor.

“We’re pranking Taemin,” Jongin and Chanyeol chirped in unison.

“Look we even bought thigh highs for Baek to wear, don’t they look good? In the pictures he looks like a real girl. You know how Taemin has a thing for legs, he’s gonna fucking freak!”

Chanyeol and Jongin fail to hold in their hysterical laughs as they gave each other a high five, Baekhyun can’t help but join in with them but the laughter quickly died at the back of his throat when he locked eyes with the maknae still standing by the door.

“You guys are so dumb,” Minseok lightly laughed as he walked away to his room.

Awkwardly clearing his throat, Baekhyun excused himself to run off to his room and get away from Sehun, though his escape wasn’t so successful when he found himself being roughly grabbed by the arm and pulled away into a room that wasn’t his.

“What the fuck Sehun? That hurt,” he pouted, massaging his arm where the younger grabbed.

Sehun has him up against the door, their bodies just close enough that Baekhyun could feel the younger’s warm and he tried his best not to look up, instead his eyes are off to the side because he just knew Sehun was giving him that look that made him funny inside.

“You’re avoiding me.”

He had his eyes fixed on Baekhyun, watched as the other’s tongue darted out to lick at his lips nervously, eyes looking off somewhere else, obviously trying to avoid looking at him.

“No I’m not.” Baekhyun felt his resolve crumbling when the younger placed an arm on either sides of his head, framing him against the door as he dipped his head down to get a better look at his face.

“You’re cute when you’re lying, hyung.”

Baekhyun nearly forgot to breathe when the other’s lips suddenly found themselves pressed against his own. Teeth hitting teeth, tongue against tongue, the kiss was rushed, almost unbearingly so as Baekhyun stood on the tips of his toes to accommodate the younger’s height. 

He didn’t know how it got to this, one moment they were just standing there and the next Sehun’s hand was up his shirt, grabbing at hips; the other hand making its way under his skirt to grip his thigh.

Baekhyun’s lips were so, so soft, better than Sehun had ever imagined. The elder’s soft mewls, the way his body slightly shuddered against him as Sehun licked into his lips, it was all almost addictive.

“Sehun,” Baekhyun whimpered as the younger bit down on the juncture of his neck and shoulder before licking at it to soothe the pain.

“Call me oppa like you did the other day.” Sehun’s voice was low and breathy, making Baekhyun’s head even hazier as he tried his best to make sense of what the other the was saying.

“Come on hyung, say it, you sounded so cute.”

Sehun had a knee between the other’s legs, his hands on wide hips, pulling him flush against his body as he grind their hips together.

“O-Oppa-” The younger’s sudden action has Baekhyun weak at the knees, the word leaving his mouth as a pleasured gurgle.

“I wanna watch you finger yourself, you’ll do that for me won’t you hyung?”

Sehun’s breath was hot against his neck, had him feeling almost lightheaded and he knew at that moment, he was completely gone.

Baekhyun quietly sat down on the bed after the younger had told him to do so. So cute , Sehun thought, so submissive. 

He had never seen the elder like this before, quiet and obeying him without sass or snarky remark; he could get use to this, he thought. The taller bent down to sit in front of the other, nudging the other’s knee to spread his legs.

“Open up,” Sehun softly commanded.

Baekhyun slowly did as he was told, flushing in embarrassment at how he’s giving in to the younger so easily, mouthy self quickly fading away as Sehun progressed with his actions. 

The younger teasingly lifted up Baekhyun’s white skirt, feeling his dick twitch his pants as his eyes landed on the elder’s bulge in his cute, pink panties.

“Oppa wants you to finger yourself. You’ll do it for me won’t you, baby?”

Baekhyun practically felt the red creep up on his cheeks at the younger’s words, body warming up as Sehun’s dark brown eyes burnt holes through him.

Baekhyun’s breath hitched his throat when he inserts the first finger past his puckered rim. He was on his back, right hand between his legs and thrusting at a lazy pace.

Sehun watched as the elder fucked himself, watched as the elder’s chest heaved up and down as he pleasured himself. 

Baekhyun easily worked in a second finger, slowly scissoring himself open, eyes shut tight as his mouth fell open to let out quiet, breathy moans. 

Baekhyun looked so, so good like this, Sehun thought, thick thighs in black thigh high socks looking great against his fair skin and skirt pooling up around his wide hips as he was two fingers deep inside himself. The younger felt his self control slipping away bit by bit as he continued watching the arousing sight before him.

“You’re doing so good, baby.”

Baekhyun had never felt so embarrassed before in his life, the way his body reacted so shamelessly so the younger’s words almost against his will. A strangled cry left his throat as his mouth dropped wide, body tensing up when the tips of fingers finally make contact with his sweet spot.

“A-Ah!”

Sehun twitched his pants as soon as the pleasured sound left the elder’s mouth, it took him all the control he had left to not push the other down and fuck him right away. 

Eyes clenched shut and hips slightly lifted off the mattress, the elder pushed his fingers deeper trying to hit that spot again. High pitched whines slipped past his lips as his fingers rubbed against his inner walls and into his prostate, hips involuntarily rolling trying to chase after the sweet friction.

Sehun could tell he was close, the frustrated whine Baekhyun let out when the younger pulled the elder’s hand out told him he was right. 

Sehun crawled on top of him, hovering over his smaller body and pinning him down by the shoulders. A soft moan slipped past Baekhyun’s lips as the younger’s heavy hands ran up and down his torso, kneading into his pliant body like dough before slipping it under his skirt and past his soiled panties to slide a finger into his slick hole.

“You fucked yourself so good for me, didn’t you hyung?”

Baekhyun’s body trembled as the younger finally pushed into him, his larger frame hunched over him while he held the elder down by his wrists.

“S-Slower, Sehun,” the elder gasped when Sehun thrusted into him, his nails digging hard into the other’s hand. He didn’t expect the younger to be so big, of course he had seen him before when they showered together, but having it inside him was a whole other story.

The younger bit down on his bottom lip, trying his best to hold himself back, but how could he when the elder felt so good around him.

“Sorry, hyung,” Sehun breathed out. “You’re so just so fucking cute.”

He leaned back slightly to take in the sight of Baekhyun writhing beneath him, his uniform shirt lifted up to expose his milky stomach and skirt pooling at his waist. God he looked good like this.

A shaky gasp escaped Baekhyun’s lips when Sehun started to roll his hips against his own, the friction clouding his mind and he felt like he was on fire. Sehun’s hands found themselves grabbing at the elder’s thighs, fingers playing with the soft thigh highs as he slowly thrusted into the smaller.

“Fuck hyung, these look so good on you.”

Sehun’s voice was husky and rough, making Baekhyun involuntarily shudder and he could himself become putty in the younger’s hands with every word.

He reddened under Sehun’s stare, the younger’s dark eyes glazed with lust as he watched his every move. 

His pace was teasing, almost agonizingly slow. It was as if he was brushing against his prostate but not hitting it on purpose to drive Baekhyun crazy. The latter practically had to bite down on his hand to keep the embarrassing, desperate whines from leaving his lips.

“I know you want me to go faster, hyung.” A low chuckle left Sehun’s throat as he smirked.

“Come on, beg for it. I won’t know to do if you don’t tell me what you want.”

Baekhyun’s hips buck up without his permission at the younger’s words, Sehun laughed lightly at how submissive the elder was being.

“Come on, tell oppa what you want.”

“I-I want-” His words were cut off by a quick snap of the younger’s hips. Baekhyun arched off the bed, a choked moan followed by a quiet whimper escaped his mouth.

“What was that, hyung?”

The elder cried out, tears rolling down his flushed cheeks as Sehun teased him.

“F-Faster-”

“Faster, what hyung?”

“Faster please , o-oppa.” The words came out as a desperate whimper, leaving Baekhyun feeling mortified at how obedient he was.

A smug smile tugged at the corners of Sehun’s lips as he leaned down to suck on the sensitive skin of the elder’s neck. His hips gradually pick up the pace as he thrusted deep into Baekhyun’s pliant body.

The elder threw his head back, jaw going slack as a pleasured sob slipped past his lips when the younger found his sensitive bundle of nerves.

“T-There! Oppa-”

The nickname had Sehun almost growling as he leaned in once again to sink his teeth into the skin under Baekhyun’s ear, biting then sucking at the mark he made.

Soft hiccups of pleasure spilled from the elder’s lips, chest heaving as Sehun’s large hands bruised into his plump thighs. Baekhyun grabbed onto the younger’s toned tones, his nails digging into the skin leaving little crescents.

Beads of sweat dripped down Sehun’s temple as he held onto the other’s thighs; Baekhyun was so small, so cute under him, Sehun had to hold himself back, worried he would break the elder if he was too rough.

“You feel so fucking good, hyung.”

The deep, quick thrusts had Baekhyun in tears, rendering him into a helpless mess and Sehun can’t help but rock against him even faster. He grunted as he grind against him, purposely hitting the bundle of nerves over and over again, it has the other seeing white as a guttural moan tore from the back of his throat. 

Baekhyun came with a loud sob of the younger’s name, head thrown back, voice high pitched sounding so lost and wrecked.

His body tensed and back painfully arched as thick ribbons of white dirtied the skirt he still had on.

Sehun followed soon after, jaw clenched as he buried himself deep inside the smaller and releasing into the condom.

“Fuck,” he panted.

Baekhyun quietly whimpered as Sehun slowly pulled out, his body still sensitive from his climax.

“You know I’m never letting anyone see you in a skirt again right?”

****

It was movie night, which meant all the boys fighting for a seat on the couch in front of the TV and Junmyeon nagging them to not spill food on the carpet. Chanyeol and Jongin are forced to sit on the floor after losing rock, paper, scissors and their nonstop whining about how the rest of them cheated has everyone threatening to kick them out the dorm.

“Hey Baek,” Yixing popped his head from behind the wall holding his phone, “the wardrobe people just called and I think they want that uniform back.”

Baekhyun nearly choked on his popcorn. “Oh, uh like right away?”

“I think so, why? Did you lose it or something?”

“No but-” Baekhyun didn’t even get to finish his sentence before the maknae interrupted him.

“I don’t think they’re gonna want it back considering we had sex while he was wearing it.” Sehun’s eyes don’t leave the screen as he casually confess to the members, his face calm and collected as if he were saying a common bit of information. Beside him, a flustered and beet red Baekhyun was trying to form a coherent sentence, trying to explain, though failing miserably.

Popcorn fell from Jongin’s mouth as fast as it went in and Chanyeol’s shock has him spitting out all his soda onto the perfectly clean carpeted floor that Junmyeon loved so much.

“Oh..my...god,” Minseok slowly muttered under his breath.

Jongdae couldn’t stop laughing at Junmyeon’s eyes bulging out of his head as he witnessed the mess in front of him.

“Bye.” Kyungsoo quietly got up and walked to his room, leaving behind the chaos and a humiliated Baekhyun in the living room.

[flauntpage]

DGB Grab Bag: Extremely Polite Refs, Mean Wingers, and Toronto's Back, Baby!

Three Stars of Comedy

The third star: This very polite referee – Even a Bruins fan couldn't get too upset with too-many-men calls if they were all announced like this.

The second star: This very realistic rock star – He gets it.

The first star: This very mean left winger – So much for the tolerant left.

Boys, easy, we're all friends here. Can't we think back to happier times of Kraft Dinner, mystery laundry and electric pilot lights?

Outrage of the Week

The issue: In his new book, Ken Dryden is calling on the NHL to ban all hits to the heads and "just finishing my check" late hits as part of an overhaul aimed at reducing concussions.

The outrage: It's too much. Or it's not enough. Or it's too late. Or we're just tired of the whole conversation. Is it justified: TSN's Bob McKenzie pretty much nails the sentiment in this heartfelt response to Dryden, in which he basically agrees with the book's premise while still feeling weary over having the whole debate yet again. McKenzie has been at the forefront of the concussion conversation for years, long before the rest of the sports media caught up, at least partly because it was personal for him. If he seems worn out, well, he's earned it.

It feels like we've been talking about this stuff forever. It also feels like nothing has ever actually changed. How is that possible? How can not doing anything be so exhausting?

Dryden is one of the smartest people in hockey; he literally wrote the book on the sport, when he published The Game in 1983. His new book is called Game Changer, and it's going to land in the hockey world with an impact. You should read it. We all should.

And then, we'll start up the same old arguments we've already been having. Some will want to see blanket bans on all hits to the head, including fighting. Others will mumble about the good old days and how hockey players used to be tough and how we can go watch figure skating if we don't like it. And around and around we'll go.

I've written about "just finishing my check" before, and I'm all on favor of getting rid of the whole concept. It doesn't make sense that arriving a tenth of a second too early is always a penalty, but two seconds late sometimes isn't. Treat it like the NFL treats hitting a QB—if you haven't already committed to the hit, you have to avoid it. That's a simple change, and the NHL should make it.

Banning all hits to the head is tougher. I'm all for it; I'm just not convinced you can make it happen. Take a look at Martin Hanzal's hit on Yannick Weber from last week. In a league where open-ice checking is allowed, how do you hit a guy who's coming straight at you with his head that low? Is there any responsibility at all on the guy with the puck to protect himself? Can you just hunch over and stay low and become untouchable? That sounds silly, but then we used to think players would never intentionally turn their backs along the boards to avoid hits, and now it's a standard play. So I don't know.

And that's the frustrating part. I've been writing about this stuff for almost a decade, and I still don't know. Not what to do, not what to change, not what to keep. Almost all of us want to get to the same place, but nobody seems to know how.

In the end, maybe it comes down to the point McKenzie makes at the end of his essay: Eventually, the players have to decide what kind of game they want to play. If they want big changes, they have the power to make it happen. If they're OK with the status quo, then the rest of us are probably wasting our time.

Or maybe that's just passing the buck, and taking the easy way out on a hard question. Even after all this time, I honestly still don't know.

Obscure Former Player of the Week

Today marks the 24th anniversary of the first-ever NHL meeting between Wayne and Brent Gretzky. So it seems like a good day to honor another member of the Less Successful Younger Brother Travelling All-Stars, joining past alumni like Fedor Fedorov and Rocky Trottier. This week's obscure player is Steve Kariya.

Kariya was a college star who captained the University of Maine to an NCAA championship in 1999. But unlike his older brother Paul, who went fourth overall in 1993, Steve was never even drafted. The reason was fairly simple: He was just too small. At 5'6" and 170 pounds, he'd probably have a shot today, but back in the late-90s you almost never saw players that size.

Still, Kariya caught on with the Canucks as a free agent, and made an early impression by putting up ten points in six games during the 1999 preseason. That earned him a spot on the roster, and he managed eight goals and 19 points in 45 games as a rookie. Unfortunately, he'd play just 20 more NHL games and score just one more goal over the next two seasons in Vancouver, before being dealt to the Devils for Mikko Jokela. He never suited up in New Jersey, or anywhere else in the NHL. His big-league career was over after three seasons and 65 games.

That left him well behind his Hall-of-Fame brother on the all-time scoring list, although his contribution does get the family over the 1,000-point mark. He went on to a decent pro career in the AHL and Europe, and was popular with fans who appreciated the hard work he had to put in to compete against bigger players. You can relive some of his best moments through the wonders of still photography in this fan-made YouTube tribute video.

Debating the Issues

This week's debate: The Toronto Maple Leafs are good again, and Auston Matthews is emerging as an early MVP candidate. Do the Leafs get too much media attention?

In favor: Oh lord yes. Ask a fan of literally any other team. We're already sick of having the Leafs shoved down our throats.

Opposed: Oh, stop being so sensitive. The Leafs are a fun team. Their rapid-fire rebuild is an interesting story. And yes, they're one of the league's biggest markets, so of course they're going to get some extra attention. That's how the media works.

In favor: Some extra attention? Try all of it. You'd think none of the other teams even existed, thanks to all this round-the-clock coverage of whether Matthews scratched his left or his right cheek when he woke up this morning.

Opposed: You're exaggerating. Other teams get plenty of attention too, even if grumpy fanbases want to resort to making stuff up to pretend otherwise. In a 24-hour media world, there's plenty of coverage to go around, and if you can't find anything about your team it's because you'd rather whine than look for it.

In favor: But that's the point. I have to go looking for my team, because everybody leads with the Leafs and Matthews.

Opposed: Of course they do. You don't think Aaron Judge gets extra attention because he plays for the Yankees? Dak Prescott shouldn't have a bigger spotlight on the Cowboys? This is how the world works. That's not bias. That's just business.

In favor: It's business and bias, and there's nothing wrong with pointing that out.

Opposed: Oh boo hoo. You guys are so paranoid, always seeing pro-Leafs bias lurking behind every corner. It's almost comical.

In favor: Maybe not every corner, but it's…hey, wait a second, isn't this very column written by a known Leafs fan?

Opposed: Um… no it's not.

In favor: It totally is. He can't go two weeks without writing about them. They're even in this week's YouTube section.

Opposed: OK, fine. But again, that's not the same as being biased.

In favor: How can you tell?

Opposed: Because if this column were biased, your side of the debate would be written in a way that made you seem ridiculous.

In favor: Huh. I guess that's a good point. And in related news, I am a big stupid-head.

Opposed: Huh. Interesting.

In favor: HEY! I saw that! This is exactly what I'm talking about! A real-life example of the media favoring the Maple Leafs over my lame boring team that literally nobody cares about.

Opposed: You don't say?

In favor: STOP THIS! This isn't fair! Also, I am a giant crybaby with a crippling case of little-brother syndrome, and secretly want the Maple Leafs to win because complaining about them is the only joy in my dull and shallow life.

Opposed: Fascinating.

In favor: I hate you.

Opposed: The media is not biased in favor of the Maple Leafs and Auston Matthews.

In favor: The media is not biased in favor of the Maple Leafs and Auston Matthews.

The final verdict: The media is not biased in favor of the 2018 Stanley Cup champion Toronto Maple Leafs and perfect wonderful boy Auston Matthews, and anyone who says otherwise is a big whiny baby.

Classic YouTube Clip Breakdown

So yeah, things are going pretty well in Toronto these days. But balance is important, so we need to nudge Leaf fans back towards their natural state of despair. So today, let's travel back to 1991 for a reminder that the Leafs can't ever have nice things.

We're watching an interview with Maple Leafs GM Floyd Smith, who's in his second season on the job and has had a busy few months. He recently made the worst trade in Maple Leafs history, his team is headed for last place, and everyone in Toronto wants him to lose his job. It's not going well.

This clip is from 1991. I don't have a specific date, but it's from some time before June, because that's when Smith is going to get fired. I would have put a spoiler alert on that, but this is a story about the Maple Leafs. You already knew it wasn't ending well.

In case you're not familiar with Floyd Smith, he played 13 seasons in the NHL, was a head coach for six seasons, went into scouting, and was eventually named Toronto's GM in 1989. He's a guy who's been around. And, as we're about to find out, at this point in his career he gives exactly zero dangnabbits what you or anyone else think about his work.

Our piece is introduced by CTV sports anchor Joe Tilley, who doesn't seem to be a big fan of Smith's. He's actually being restrained here—check out this clip from the same season in which he absolutely ethers Smith as "under-qualified and hopelessly incompetent." And here he is two decades later singing about the Leafs being hopeless. Also, he was apparently a three-time Alberta welterweight champion. I thoroughly enjoy Joe Tilley.

Sadly, Tilley isn't handling the actual interview; those duties to go to Suneel Joshi. But first, we need to meet the unquestioned star of our show: Whoever it is that does the graphics at CTV sports. This guy is fantastic. He starts us off with "Crisis Management" and a Maple Leafs logo being torn in half. That's some subtle symbolism right there.

Wait, why is the "A" from Leafs lying there, but not the "O" from Toronto? This is going to bother me all day.

Smith starts right in on the Leafs, and how awful they've been for the last decade. He's not wrong there. Meanwhile, Joshi listens to him with the exact same expression and posture my wife uses when I try to tell her about my fantasy football team.

Joshi asks about the pending shakeup in Leafs ownership, and whether that has Smith worried. The GM replies that "I don't hear very much from the people around here." Uh, that probably means you should be worried, Floyd.

We get our second graphic: "Let's Make a Deal," which disappointingly does not feature a bunch of Maple Leaf players dressed in outrageous costumes. Instead, it's fistful of Canadian twenties, which appear to be being offered to the Maple Leafs logo as compensation for the recent ripping-in-half incident.

Smith pumps the tires of a few of the team's veterans, including team captain Rob Ramage, "who gives us tremendous leadership." Fun fact: the Leafs lost Ramage in the expansion draft that May.

We really kick into high gear when Joshi asks if Smith has given up too much of the future. "What future? What'd I give up?" I love this answer so much, and it's made even better when Joshi asks a follow-up about Scott Pearson and Smith answers by talking about Scott Thornton, who at this point is still on the team. But for the record, neither Pearson nor Johnny McIntyre amounted to all that much, so Smith is kind of sort of right here.

Smith then explains that "all the teams that are up near the top" are trading away picks and prospects, which is maybe not the best point to hit when your team is closing in on dead last. But he redeems himself with "Draft picks are good when they play, but only 20% of them play." Hell yeah, look at Floyd breaking out the analytics!

Seriously though, Cliff Fletcher said "draft schmaft" in 1996 and to this day people still bring it up, but Smith basically torched his whole scouting department in this interview and nobody cared. The internet ruined everything.

Our next graphic: "The Price Is Right." Wait, are we doing a game show theme here? Was "Crisis Management" a game show? Because that sounds awesome.

We shift to talk about Wendel Clark's contract, during which Smith says Clark's recent problems were "more mental than physical." Again, let's imagine a GM saying something like this today. We'd have three days of blistering hot takes and counter-takes. Back then, every Leaf fan watched this interview and went "Sure, I guess" and went back to organizing our eight-track cassettes.

Our last graphic is "Search for Tomorrow," which was definitely not a game show. But that doesn't bother me because I'm looking at a Maple Leafs logo flat on its back while beams of light poke through a clouded sky. Did…did the Maple Leafs die? Are they going to heaven right now, graphics guy? Should I have brought flowers?

"We're in a tough division with some good hockey teams." Oh great, as if things weren't bad enough the Leafs have apparently been kicked out of the Norris.

We wrap up with Smith running down a short list of areas the Leafs need to improve in: Their play within the division, their play on the road, and "definitely" their play at home. Other than that, they're all set.

And we end with Smith planting his flag in the ground, with a promise to Leafs fans: "I feel really strongly that…uh…it will not embarrass anybody next year." Aim for the stars, Floyd!

The epilogue here is that Smith was quickly fired and replaced by Fletcher, who almost immediately turned the Leafs into contenders. That was pretty much it for Smith as an NHL front office presence, much to the despair of interviewers everywhere.

Bonus YouTube Clip

RIP, Gord.

DGB Grab Bag: Extremely Polite Refs, Mean Wingers, and Toronto's Back, Baby! published first on http://ift.tt/2pLTmlv

[amtushinfosolutionspage]

DGB Grab Bag: Extremely Polite Refs, Mean Wingers, and Toronto’s Back, Baby!

Three Stars of Comedy

The third star: This very polite referee – Even a Bruins fan couldn’t get too upset with too-many-men calls if they were all announced like this.

The second star: This very realistic rock star – He gets it.

The first star: This very mean left winger – So much for the tolerant left.

Boys, easy, we’re all friends here. Can’t we think back to happier times of Kraft Dinner, mystery laundry and electric pilot lights?

Outrage of the Week

The issue: In his new book, Ken Dryden is calling on the NHL to ban all hits to the heads and “just finishing my check” late hits as part of an overhaul aimed at reducing concussions.

The outrage: It’s too much. Or it’s not enough. Or it’s too late. Or we’re just tired of the whole conversation.

Is it justified: TSN’s Bob McKenzie pretty much nails the sentiment in this heartfelt response to Dryden, in which he basically agrees with the book’s premise while still feeling weary over having the whole debate yet again. McKenzie has been at the forefront of the concussion conversation for years, long before the rest of the sports media caught up, at least partly because it was personal for him. If he seems worn out, well, he’s earned it.

It feels like we’ve been talking about this stuff forever. It also feels like nothing has ever actually changed. How is that possible? How can not doing anything be so exhausting?

Dryden is one of the smartest people in hockey; he literally wrote the book on the sport, when he published The Game in 1983. His new book is called Game Changer, and it’s going to land in the hockey world with an impact. You should read it. We all should.

And then, we’ll start up the same old arguments we’ve already been having. Some will want to see blanket bans on all hits to the head, including fighting. Others will mumble about the good old days and how hockey players used to be tough and how we can go watch figure skating if we don’t like it. And around and around we’ll go.

I’ve written about “just finishing my check” before, and I’m all on favor of getting rid of the whole concept. It doesn’t make sense that arriving a tenth of a second too early is always a penalty, but two seconds late sometimes isn’t. Treat it like the NFL treats hitting a QB—if you haven’t already committed to the hit, you have to avoid it. That’s a simple change, and the NHL should make it.

Banning all hits to the head is tougher. I’m all for it; I’m just not convinced you can make it happen. Take a look at Martin Hanzal’s hit on Yannick Weber from last week. In a league where open-ice checking is allowed, how do you hit a guy who’s coming straight at you with his head that low? Is there any responsibility at all on the guy with the puck to protect himself? Can you just hunch over and stay low and become untouchable? That sounds silly, but then we used to think players would never intentionally turn their backs along the boards to avoid hits, and now it’s a standard play. So I don’t know.

And that’s the frustrating part. I’ve been writing about this stuff for almost a decade, and I still don’t know. Not what to do, not what to change, not what to keep. Almost all of us want to get to the same place, but nobody seems to know how.

In the end, maybe it comes down to the point McKenzie makes at the end of his essay: Eventually, the players have to decide what kind of game they want to play. If they want big changes, they have the power to make it happen. If they’re OK with the status quo, then the rest of us are probably wasting our time.

Or maybe that’s just passing the buck, and taking the easy way out on a hard question. Even after all this time, I honestly still don’t know.

Obscure Former Player of the Week

Today marks the 24th anniversary of the first-ever NHL meeting between Wayne and Brent Gretzky. So it seems like a good day to honor another member of the Less Successful Younger Brother Travelling All-Stars, joining past alumni like Fedor Fedorov and Rocky Trottier. This week’s obscure player is Steve Kariya.

Kariya was a college star who captained the University of Maine to an NCAA championship in 1999. But unlike his older brother Paul, who went fourth overall in 1993, Steve was never even drafted. The reason was fairly simple: He was just too small. At 5’6″ and 170 pounds, he’d probably have a shot today, but back in the late-90s you almost never saw players that size.

Still, Kariya caught on with the Canucks as a free agent, and made an early impression by putting up ten points in six games during the 1999 preseason. That earned him a spot on the roster, and he managed eight goals and 19 points in 45 games as a rookie. Unfortunately, he’d play just 20 more NHL games and score just one more goal over the next two seasons in Vancouver, before being dealt to the Devils for Mikko Jokela. He never suited up in New Jersey, or anywhere else in the NHL. His big-league career was over after three seasons and 65 games.

That left him well behind his Hall-of-Fame brother on the all-time scoring list, although his contribution does get the family over the 1,000-point mark. He went on to a decent pro career in the AHL and Europe, and was popular with fans who appreciated the hard work he had to put in to compete against bigger players. You can relive some of his best moments through the wonders of still photography in this fan-made YouTube tribute video.

Debating the Issues

This week’s debate: The Toronto Maple Leafs are good again, and Auston Matthews is emerging as an early MVP candidate. Do the Leafs get too much media attention?

In favor: Oh lord yes. Ask a fan of literally any other team. We’re already sick of having the Leafs shoved down our throats.

Opposed: Oh, stop being so sensitive. The Leafs are a fun team. Their rapid-fire rebuild is an interesting story. And yes, they’re one of the league’s biggest markets, so of course they’re going to get some extra attention. That’s how the media works.

In favor: Some extra attention? Try all of it. You’d think none of the other teams even existed, thanks to all this round-the-clock coverage of whether Matthews scratched his left or his right cheek when he woke up this morning.

Opposed: You’re exaggerating. Other teams get plenty of attention too, even if grumpy fanbases want to resort to making stuff up to pretend otherwise. In a 24-hour media world, there’s plenty of coverage to go around, and if you can’t find anything about your team it’s because you’d rather whine than look for it.

In favor: But that’s the point. I have to go looking for my team, because everybody leads with the Leafs and Matthews.

Opposed: Of course they do. You don’t think Aaron Judge gets extra attention because he plays for the Yankees? Dak Prescott shouldn’t have a bigger spotlight on the Cowboys? This is how the world works. That’s not bias. That’s just business.

In favor: It’s business and bias, and there’s nothing wrong with pointing that out.

Opposed: Oh boo hoo. You guys are so paranoid, always seeing pro-Leafs bias lurking behind every corner. It’s almost comical.

In favor: Maybe not every corner, but it’s…hey, wait a second, isn’t this very column written by a known Leafs fan?

Opposed: Um… no it’s not.

In favor: It totally is. He can’t go two weeks without writing about them. They’re even in this week’s YouTube section.

Opposed: OK, fine. But again, that’s not the same as being biased.

In favor: How can you tell?

Opposed: Because if this column were biased, your side of the debate would be written in a way that made you seem ridiculous.

In favor: Huh. I guess that’s a good point. And in related news, I am a big stupid-head.

Opposed: Huh. Interesting.

In favor: HEY! I saw that! This is exactly what I’m talking about! A real-life example of the media favoring the Maple Leafs over my lame boring team that literally nobody cares about.

Opposed: You don’t say?

In favor: STOP THIS! This isn’t fair! Also, I am a giant crybaby with a crippling case of little-brother syndrome, and secretly want the Maple Leafs to win because complaining about them is the only joy in my dull and shallow life.

Opposed: Fascinating.

In favor: I hate you.

Opposed: The media is not biased in favor of the Maple Leafs and Auston Matthews.

In favor: The media is not biased in favor of the Maple Leafs and Auston Matthews.

The final verdict: The media is not biased in favor of the 2018 Stanley Cup champion Toronto Maple Leafs and perfect wonderful boy Auston Matthews, and anyone who says otherwise is a big whiny baby.

Classic YouTube Clip Breakdown

So yeah, things are going pretty well in Toronto these days. But balance is important, so we need to nudge Leaf fans back towards their natural state of despair. So today, let’s travel back to 1991 for a reminder that the Leafs can’t ever have nice things.

We’re watching an interview with Maple Leafs GM Floyd Smith, who’s in his second season on the job and has had a busy few months. He recently made the worst trade in Maple Leafs history, his team is headed for last place, and everyone in Toronto wants him to lose his job. It’s not going well.

This clip is from 1991. I don’t have a specific date, but it’s from some time before June, because that’s when Smith is going to get fired. I would have put a spoiler alert on that, but this is a story about the Maple Leafs. You already knew it wasn’t ending well.

In case you’re not familiar with Floyd Smith, he played 13 seasons in the NHL, was a head coach for six seasons, went into scouting, and was eventually named Toronto’s GM in 1989. He’s a guy who’s been around. And, as we’re about to find out, at this point in his career he gives exactly zero dangnabbits what you or anyone else think about his work.

Our piece is introduced by CTV sports anchor Joe Tilley, who doesn’t seem to be a big fan of Smith’s. He’s actually being restrained here—check out this clip from the same season in which he absolutely ethers Smith as “under-qualified and hopelessly incompetent.” And here he is two decades later singing about the Leafs being hopeless. Also, he was apparently a three-time Alberta welterweight champion. I thoroughly enjoy Joe Tilley.

Sadly, Tilley isn’t handling the actual interview; those duties to go to Suneel Joshi. But first, we need to meet the unquestioned star of our show: Whoever it is that does the graphics at CTV sports. This guy is fantastic. He starts us off with “Crisis Management” and a Maple Leafs logo being torn in half. That’s some subtle symbolism right there.

Wait, why is the “A” from Leafs lying there, but not the “O” from Toronto? This is going to bother me all day.

Smith starts right in on the Leafs, and how awful they’ve been for the last decade. He’s not wrong there. Meanwhile, Joshi listens to him with the exact same expression and posture my wife uses when I try to tell her about my fantasy football team.

Joshi asks about the pending shakeup in Leafs ownership, and whether that has Smith worried. The GM replies that “I don’t hear very much from the people around here.” Uh, that probably means you should be worried, Floyd.

We get our second graphic: “Let’s Make a Deal,” which disappointingly does not feature a bunch of Maple Leaf players dressed in outrageous costumes. Instead, it’s fistful of Canadian twenties, which appear to be being offered to the Maple Leafs logo as compensation for the recent ripping-in-half incident.

Smith pumps the tires of a few of the team’s veterans, including team captain Rob Ramage, “who gives us tremendous leadership.” Fun fact: the Leafs lost Ramage in the expansion draft that May.

We really kick into high gear when Joshi asks if Smith has given up too much of the future. “What future? What’d I give up?” I love this answer so much, and it’s made even better when Joshi asks a follow-up about Scott Pearson and Smith answers by talking about Scott Thornton, who at this point is still on the team. But for the record, neither Pearson nor Johnny McIntyre amounted to all that much, so Smith is kind of sort of right here.

Smith then explains that “all the teams that are up near the top” are trading away picks and prospects, which is maybe not the best point to hit when your team is closing in on dead last. But he redeems himself with “Draft picks are good when they play, but only 20% of them play.” Hell yeah, look at Floyd breaking out the analytics!

Seriously though, Cliff Fletcher said “draft schmaft” in 1996 and to this day people still bring it up, but Smith basically torched his whole scouting department in this interview and nobody cared. The internet ruined everything.

Our next graphic: “The Price Is Right.” Wait, are we doing a game show theme here? Was “Crisis Management” a game show? Because that sounds awesome.

We shift to talk about Wendel Clark’s contract, during which Smith says Clark’s recent problems were “more mental than physical.” Again, let’s imagine a GM saying something like this today. We’d have three days of blistering hot takes and counter-takes. Back then, every Leaf fan watched this interview and went “Sure, I guess” and went back to organizing our eight-track cassettes.

Our last graphic is “Search for Tomorrow,” which was definitely not a game show. But that doesn’t bother me because I’m looking at a Maple Leafs logo flat on its back while beams of light poke through a clouded sky. Did…did the Maple Leafs die? Are they going to heaven right now, graphics guy? Should I have brought flowers?

“We’re in a tough division with some good hockey teams.” Oh great, as if things weren’t bad enough the Leafs have apparently been kicked out of the Norris.

We wrap up with Smith running down a short list of areas the Leafs need to improve in: Their play within the division, their play on the road, and “definitely” their play at home. Other than that, they’re all set.

And we end with Smith planting his flag in the ground, with a promise to Leafs fans: “I feel really strongly that…uh…it will not embarrass anybody next year.” Aim for the stars, Floyd!

The epilogue here is that Smith was quickly fired and replaced by Fletcher, who almost immediately turned the Leafs into contenders. That was pretty much it for Smith as an NHL front office presence, much to the despair of interviewers everywhere.

Bonus YouTube Clip

RIP, Gord.

DGB Grab Bag: Extremely Polite Refs, Mean Wingers, and Toronto’s Back, Baby! syndicated from http://ift.tt/2ug2Ns6

[aurimeanswind]

Podcast Sunday—Sunday Chats (2-12-17)

If you were unaware, I got very drunk last night on stream for the entertainment of the masses. That stream has been archived forever for the enjoyment of all, and if you missed it:

I played a great deal of Nioh, which is quite fun, chatted with many friends, and killed an entire bottle of wine, which is a lot for sha’boy over here.

I’ve been streaming a good deal more recently, starting two weeks ago by playing the Division with friends, which returned this week, in addition to the two Nioh streams I did and that fun Resident Evil LP! It’s been a good deal of fun, though I still need to get the ExtraLife stream uploaded over on YouTube and whatnot. We’ll see.

I don’t really have an editorial for today, because my life is weird now and I don’t have school and nothing really major happened in my life this week.

Some news then.

PAX East 2017

GET READY FOR PAX! Oh boy. We got all of our materials submitted and we were approved for badges for PAX East next month. Doing some BnB booking and getting emotionally prepared to fly to Boston, Nintendo Switch in-hand, and that’s all quite exciting.

We are bringing a big, five-person team this year, and I am extremely excited to see what me and the team can do. This is the second time ever a full editorial team is joining me at PAX, with previous years it just being the podcast crew or just myself and Tony.

We’re gonna do some killer work, and I’m very excited and proud of my team. If you’re going, please come say hi to any of the five of us! If you’re wearing an Irrational Passions shirt, you will get hugged!

What’s on Tap

It’s weird because I have yet to podcast this week (doing it right after this, pretty much) so I haven’t gotten to unload on some games yet. I’ll try and keep it brief.

Resident Evil VII

Finished it pretty much right after I finished Sunday Chats last week.

I had far more left than I expected.

Game is fantastic! Loved it.

The pacing is really incredible, and the ending part was super awesome, i felt. Game just got better and better, through to the end.

Tales of Berseria

HOLY CRAP THIS GAME IS SO GOOD.

Legimitmately blown away by how much I love and adore ToB.

Female protagonist is awesome, the set up is awesome, it’s still very much Tales and if you don’t like that than you won’t like this, but this is some of the best execution of the formula, with really great and smart changes, that it brings the series back for me in a big way.

The best in the franchise since Vesperia, hands down.

I love it.

Nioh

Ya know, Nioh is in no way a surprise, but I do love it.

The give and take of combat is awesome, the active-reload to the stamina mechanic is awesome, and the look and feel of the game is awesome.

I’ve definitely talked about it enough in the past, but the final game is wonderful, and I can’t wait to play more. Berseria is taking up most of my time though.

For Honor (Beta)

It’s good to have a firm grasp on what For Honor is, finally.

It is very similar to the pacing of Dark Souls, true to its final execution too, in that things move far faster than I initially anticipated.

Killing dudes feels super great, I played one match, I killed a bunch of people, we won, and I had fun.

It’s just another multiplayer game that I just do not want to invest or commit any time to, and as curious as I’d be to see what the single player offerings for the game are, I just have no draw to it right now.

Questions

I don’t know yet. I want to. We’ll see.

If I can get approved as press, it’s possible, but that show may end up being a bit too close to KFL3 than I can afford, and that may prevent me from going, because I apparently have to go to KFL3. I don’t think it’d be allowed for me not to go.

No.

God do I think that movie is dumb. My roommate loves it, at least.

I mean honestly I feel like Snapchat covered a lot of those gaps. I finished that glass of red wine that I had started on stream. Re-corked it and put it back in the fridge. I talked to my roommates a bit. I was very drunk.

I sent some text messages. A lot of them. Very affectionate, like I always get when I’m drunk. Thank god I didn’t send any texts to certain people on my phone. Oh that would have been bad. I rolled over and passed out. I haven’t gotten that drunk in a good long while. That was much drunker than I ever got at PSX. Whooooooo boy.

Definitely a tough question. Obviously all my scripts for Alex Talks sit pretty high on that list. I think they’re very indicative of my personality and capture who I am, how I speak, and my biggest strengths as a writer. Some of the ones I’ve been working on recently that haven’t been shot yet I am quite fond of.

Those also challenge me a great deal. I’ve been having so much trouble writing for the new format of that show because I have so many visual things I want to do that I know I am incapable of doing, but it’s nice to have that challenge to look forward to.

All of my audio features I am very proud of. Those were super fun and having gone back to listen to all of them recently, I think they’re all fantastic. 

I’ve barely written any reviews as of late but my Firewatch review is an all time favorite.

Of all of that, the Twilit Ghost Town and Growing up with a Generation pieces are probably at the top with all five Alex Talks episodes.

More to come, obviously.

OH! And Sunday Chats. Fond of these things. <3

How about a fucking Metroid game Nintendo?

But seriously, Pikmin would be great, even though that franchise isn’t lost, let’s say. But I did not like Pikmin 3, so another shot at that could be cool. I don’t know in any way it could capitalize on the features of the system, but I don’t know what features to use as well as I will in what, like three weeks? Holy shit.

I’m not really sure. Weirdly enough Castlevania is something that comes to mind. A 2D Castlevania game back on a Nintendo console would be cool. And to take it on the go would fit with some of those great handheld ones released over the last few years.

It depends on what you need. For photo, Photoshop is 10 bucks a month, which I know tons of creators hate now, but you can’t beat that price as a junior photo editor. I pay it, and it’s incredibly helpful for thumbnails and feature images on the site and all.

For audio, I started with GarageBand. I know thats Mac-only, which is a hard sell for some, but that’s a great one to use. Audacity is free and can totally get the job done. Its UI is pretty godawful but it’s pretty easy to grasp when you know where everything is. I think you can access adobe audition for free as well? I don’t know for sure.

Video is tricky. Premiere is the way to go, but obviously that aint cheap. It’s either another $20 a month with photoshop, or $50 a month for the whole Creative Cloud suite. That sucks. Sony Vegas? iMovie? Those are both free on PC/Mac respective? I have used iMovie and don’t like it so much, but I’ve never touched Sony Vegas. Looks like a nightmare to me.

Start there and see what you like and what you fall into.

SO LIT

Haha, I was definitely hungover.

AND YEAH PAX EAST WOOOOOO

I woke up at 8 this morning with some hardcore spins going on. My stomach was fine, luckily, and it was not the worst case of the spins that I’ve been through. I drank a fuckton of water, took three ibuprofen, and laid back down to sleep.

It sucked, but not so bad. Again, most i had drunk in a good long while.

I made content for a long, long time before anyone cared. Hell, only the last year or two has anyone actually really cared about Irrational Passions. We’d have a few folks latch on, come and go, but it would always be temporary. It wasn’t until the writing team came on int 2014 before we really started stretching our wings.

It’s a give and take. I try and make stuff that I find interesting. Stuff I’m proud of. IP has always been my living portfolio first: I make the content for me, and expect no one to watch it, but when I apply to a games industry job in the future I can cite it as my experience. 

That’s it.

If you’re jumping into it expecting notoriety... Well, I just think you’re gonna be disappointed. Getting people to watch your stuff is one thing, but hell man, that engagement? There is so much stuff out on the internet for people to give a shit about before any of what I do, or anyone else does, and it’s typically far better produced, so people engaging with me is a big ask.

For stuff like that, I would maybe look to join someone else’s project or start a collaborative thing with other folks, so you have some kind of feed into itself, somewhere to get that attention from, and then build notoriety to break off and make your own stuff. That’s exactly what I’ve done here with Sunday Chats.

But that’s a hard question to answer.

Hi Roger. Thanks for writing in. Always glad to hear from a fan.

Calebs a good kid. Sometimes I wonder if he is too good? Like, maybe he should get out there and fuck some shit up. I don’t know. Smoke a doobie. Break some rules. Blow up a toilet.

I’m a terrible influence.

Y’all are good boys and I love you two. <3

Fuck you. Fuck all of this. Fuck Waluigi. Not literally.

Shoutout 

Shoutout to the writing team at IrrationalPassions.com. They’ve been killing it was great articles all week. Been a ton of work to edit them, but they’re truly excellent. Wroth a look!

http://irrationalpassions.com

Well, as tired as fuck as I am, and still slightly hungover, time to go record a podcast. Maybe I should just drunk more wine, eh?

[flauntpage]

DGB Grab Bag: Extremely Polite Refs, Mean Wingers, and Toronto's Back, Baby!

Three Stars of Comedy

The third star: This very polite referee – Even a Bruins fan couldn't get too upset with too-many-men calls if they were all announced like this.

The second star: This very realistic rock star – He gets it.

The first star: This very mean left winger – So much for the tolerant left.

Boys, easy, we're all friends here. Can't we think back to happier times of Kraft Dinner, mystery laundry and electric pilot lights?

Outrage of the Week

The issue: In his new book, Ken Dryden is calling on the NHL to ban all hits to the heads and "just finishing my check" late hits as part of an overhaul aimed at reducing concussions.

The outrage: It's too much. Or it's not enough. Or it's too late. Or we're just tired of the whole conversation. Is it justified: TSN's Bob McKenzie pretty much nails the sentiment in this heartfelt response to Dryden, in which he basically agrees with the book's premise while still feeling weary over having the whole debate yet again. McKenzie has been at the forefront of the concussion conversation for years, long before the rest of the sports media caught up, at least partly because it was personal for him. If he seems worn out, well, he's earned it.

It feels like we've been talking about this stuff forever. It also feels like nothing has ever actually changed. How is that possible? How can not doing anything be so exhausting?

Dryden is one of the smartest people in hockey; he literally wrote the book on the sport, when he published The Game in 1983. His new book is called Game Changer, and it's going to land in the hockey world with an impact. You should read it. We all should.

And then, we'll start up the same old arguments we've already been having. Some will want to see blanket bans on all hits to the head, including fighting. Others will mumble about the good old days and how hockey players used to be tough and how we can go watch figure skating if we don't like it. And around and around we'll go.

I've written about "just finishing my check" before, and I'm all on favor of getting rid of the whole concept. It doesn't make sense that arriving a tenth of a second too early is always a penalty, but two seconds late sometimes isn't. Treat it like the NFL treats hitting a QB—if you haven't already committed to the hit, you have to avoid it. That's a simple change, and the NHL should make it.

Banning all hits to the head is tougher. I'm all for it; I'm just not convinced you can make it happen. Take a look at Martin Hanzal's hit on Yannick Weber from last week. In a league where open-ice checking is allowed, how do you hit a guy who's coming straight at you with his head that low? Is there any responsibility at all on the guy with the puck to protect himself? Can you just hunch over and stay low and become untouchable? That sounds silly, but then we used to think players would never intentionally turn their backs along the boards to avoid hits, and now it's a standard play. So I don't know.

And that's the frustrating part. I've been writing about this stuff for almost a decade, and I still don't know. Not what to do, not what to change, not what to keep. Almost all of us want to get to the same place, but nobody seems to know how.

In the end, maybe it comes down to the point McKenzie makes at the end of his essay: Eventually, the players have to decide what kind of game they want to play. If they want big changes, they have the power to make it happen. If they're OK with the status quo, then the rest of us are probably wasting our time.

Or maybe that's just passing the buck, and taking the easy way out on a hard question. Even after all this time, I honestly still don't know.

Obscure Former Player of the Week

Today marks the 24th anniversary of the first-ever NHL meeting between Wayne and Brent Gretzky. So it seems like a good day to honor another member of the Less Successful Younger Brother Travelling All-Stars, joining past alumni like Fedor Fedorov and Rocky Trottier. This week's obscure player is Steve Kariya.

Kariya was a college star who captained the University of Maine to an NCAA championship in 1999. But unlike his older brother Paul, who went fourth overall in 1993, Steve was never even drafted. The reason was fairly simple: He was just too small. At 5'6" and 170 pounds, he'd probably have a shot today, but back in the late-90s you almost never saw players that size.

Still, Kariya caught on with the Canucks as a free agent, and made an early impression by putting up ten points in six games during the 1999 preseason. That earned him a spot on the roster, and he managed eight goals and 19 points in 45 games as a rookie. Unfortunately, he'd play just 20 more NHL games and score just one more goal over the next two seasons in Vancouver, before being dealt to the Devils for Mikko Jokela. He never suited up in New Jersey, or anywhere else in the NHL. His big-league career was over after three seasons and 65 games.

That left him well behind his Hall-of-Fame brother on the all-time scoring list, although his contribution does get the family over the 1,000-point mark. He went on to a decent pro career in the AHL and Europe, and was popular with fans who appreciated the hard work he had to put in to compete against bigger players. You can relive some of his best moments through the wonders of still photography in this fan-made YouTube tribute video.

Debating the Issues

This week's debate: The Toronto Maple Leafs are good again, and Auston Matthews is emerging as an early MVP candidate. Do the Leafs get too much media attention?

In favor: Oh lord yes. Ask a fan of literally any other team. We're already sick of having the Leafs shoved down our throats.

Opposed: Oh, stop being so sensitive. The Leafs are a fun team. Their rapid-fire rebuild is an interesting story. And yes, they're one of the league's biggest markets, so of course they're going to get some extra attention. That's how the media works.

In favor: Some extra attention? Try all of it. You'd think none of the other teams even existed, thanks to all this round-the-clock coverage of whether Matthews scratched his left or his right cheek when he woke up this morning.

Opposed: You're exaggerating. Other teams get plenty of attention too, even if grumpy fanbases want to resort to making stuff up to pretend otherwise. In a 24-hour media world, there's plenty of coverage to go around, and if you can't find anything about your team it's because you'd rather whine than look for it.

In favor: But that's the point. I have to go looking for my team, because everybody leads with the Leafs and Matthews.

Opposed: Of course they do. You don't think Aaron Judge gets extra attention because he plays for the Yankees? Dak Prescott shouldn't have a bigger spotlight on the Cowboys? This is how the world works. That's not bias. That's just business.

In favor: It's business and bias, and there's nothing wrong with pointing that out.

Opposed: Oh boo hoo. You guys are so paranoid, always seeing pro-Leafs bias lurking behind every corner. It's almost comical.

In favor: Maybe not every corner, but it's…hey, wait a second, isn't this very column written by a known Leafs fan?

Opposed: Um… no it's not.

In favor: It totally is. He can't go two weeks without writing about them. They're even in this week's YouTube section.

Opposed: OK, fine. But again, that's not the same as being biased.

In favor: How can you tell?

Opposed: Because if this column were biased, your side of the debate would be written in a way that made you seem ridiculous.

In favor: Huh. I guess that's a good point. And in related news, I am a big stupid-head.

Opposed: Huh. Interesting.

In favor: HEY! I saw that! This is exactly what I'm talking about! A real-life example of the media favoring the Maple Leafs over my lame boring team that literally nobody cares about.

Opposed: You don't say?

In favor: STOP THIS! This isn't fair! Also, I am a giant crybaby with a crippling case of little-brother syndrome, and secretly want the Maple Leafs to win because complaining about them is the only joy in my dull and shallow life.

Opposed: Fascinating.

In favor: I hate you.

Opposed: The media is not biased in favor of the Maple Leafs and Auston Matthews.

In favor: The media is not biased in favor of the Maple Leafs and Auston Matthews.

The final verdict: The media is not biased in favor of the 2018 Stanley Cup champion Toronto Maple Leafs and perfect wonderful boy Auston Matthews, and anyone who says otherwise is a big whiny baby.

Classic YouTube Clip Breakdown

So yeah, things are going pretty well in Toronto these days. But balance is important, so we need to nudge Leaf fans back towards their natural state of despair. So today, let's travel back to 1991 for a reminder that the Leafs can't ever have nice things.

We're watching an interview with Maple Leafs GM Floyd Smith, who's in his second season on the job and has had a busy few months. He recently made the worst trade in Maple Leafs history, his team is headed for last place, and everyone in Toronto wants him to lose his job. It's not going well.

This clip is from 1991. I don't have a specific date, but it's from some time before June, because that's when Smith is going to get fired. I would have put a spoiler alert on that, but this is a story about the Maple Leafs. You already knew it wasn't ending well.

In case you're not familiar with Floyd Smith, he played 13 seasons in the NHL, was a head coach for six seasons, went into scouting, and was eventually named Toronto's GM in 1989. He's a guy who's been around. And, as we're about to find out, at this point in his career he gives exactly zero dangnabbits what you or anyone else think about his work.

Our piece is introduced by CTV sports anchor Joe Tilley, who doesn't seem to be a big fan of Smith's. He's actually being restrained here—check out this clip from the same season in which he absolutely ethers Smith as "under-qualified and hopelessly incompetent." And here he is two decades later singing about the Leafs being hopeless. Also, he was apparently a three-time Alberta welterweight champion. I thoroughly enjoy Joe Tilley.

Sadly, Tilley isn't handling the actual interview; those duties to go to Suneel Joshi. But first, we need to meet the unquestioned star of our show: Whoever it is that does the graphics at CTV sports. This guy is fantastic. He starts us off with "Crisis Management" and a Maple Leafs logo being torn in half. That's some subtle symbolism right there.

Wait, why is the "A" from Leafs lying there, but not the "O" from Toronto? This is going to bother me all day.

Smith starts right in on the Leafs, and how awful they've been for the last decade. He's not wrong there. Meanwhile, Joshi listens to him with the exact same expression and posture my wife uses when I try to tell her about my fantasy football team.

Joshi asks about the pending shakeup in Leafs ownership, and whether that has Smith worried. The GM replies that "I don't hear very much from the people around here." Uh, that probably means you should be worried, Floyd.

We get our second graphic: "Let's Make a Deal," which disappointingly does not feature a bunch of Maple Leaf players dressed in outrageous costumes. Instead, it's fistful of Canadian twenties, which appear to be being offered to the Maple Leafs logo as compensation for the recent ripping-in-half incident.

Smith pumps the tires of a few of the team's veterans, including team captain Rob Ramage, "who gives us tremendous leadership." Fun fact: the Leafs lost Ramage in the expansion draft that May.

We really kick into high gear when Joshi asks if Smith has given up too much of the future. "What future? What'd I give up?" I love this answer so much, and it's made even better when Joshi asks a follow-up about Scott Pearson and Smith answers by talking about Scott Thornton, who at this point is still on the team. But for the record, neither Pearson nor Johnny McIntyre amounted to all that much, so Smith is kind of sort of right here.

Smith then explains that "all the teams that are up near the top" are trading away picks and prospects, which is maybe not the best point to hit when your team is closing in on dead last. But he redeems himself with "Draft picks are good when they play, but only 20% of them play." Hell yeah, look at Floyd breaking out the analytics!

Seriously though, Cliff Fletcher said "draft schmaft" in 1996 and to this day people still bring it up, but Smith basically torched his whole scouting department in this interview and nobody cared. The internet ruined everything.

Our next graphic: "The Price Is Right." Wait, are we doing a game show theme here? Was "Crisis Management" a game show? Because that sounds awesome.

We shift to talk about Wendel Clark's contract, during which Smith says Clark's recent problems were "more mental than physical." Again, let's imagine a GM saying something like this today. We'd have three days of blistering hot takes and counter-takes. Back then, every Leaf fan watched this interview and went "Sure, I guess" and went back to organizing our eight-track cassettes.

Our last graphic is "Search for Tomorrow," which was definitely not a game show. But that doesn't bother me because I'm looking at a Maple Leafs logo flat on its back while beams of light poke through a clouded sky. Did…did the Maple Leafs die? Are they going to heaven right now, graphics guy? Should I have brought flowers?

"We're in a tough division with some good hockey teams." Oh great, as if things weren't bad enough the Leafs have apparently been kicked out of the Norris.

We wrap up with Smith running down a short list of areas the Leafs need to improve in: Their play within the division, their play on the road, and "definitely" their play at home. Other than that, they're all set.

And we end with Smith planting his flag in the ground, with a promise to Leafs fans: "I feel really strongly that…uh…it will not embarrass anybody next year." Aim for the stars, Floyd!

The epilogue here is that Smith was quickly fired and replaced by Fletcher, who almost immediately turned the Leafs into contenders. That was pretty much it for Smith as an NHL front office presence, much to the despair of interviewers everywhere.

Bonus YouTube Clip

RIP, Gord.

DGB Grab Bag: Extremely Polite Refs, Mean Wingers, and Toronto's Back, Baby! published first on http://ift.tt/2pLTmlv

[flauntpage]

DGB Grab Bag: Extremely Polite Refs, Mean Wingers, and Toronto's Back, Baby!

Three Stars of Comedy

The third star: This very polite referee – Even a Bruins fan couldn't get too upset with too-many-men calls if they were all announced like this.

The second star: This very realistic rock star – He gets it.

The first star: This very mean left winger – So much for the tolerant left.

Boys, easy, we're all friends here. Can't we think back to happier times of Kraft Dinner, mystery laundry and electric pilot lights?

Outrage of the Week

The issue: In his new book, Ken Dryden is calling on the NHL to ban all hits to the heads and "just finishing my check" late hits as part of an overhaul aimed at reducing concussions.

The outrage: It's too much. Or it's not enough. Or it's too late. Or we're just tired of the whole conversation. Is it justified: TSN's Bob McKenzie pretty much nails the sentiment in this heartfelt response to Dryden, in which he basically agrees with the book's premise while still feeling weary over having the whole debate yet again. McKenzie has been at the forefront of the concussion conversation for years, long before the rest of the sports media caught up, at least partly because it was personal for him. If he seems worn out, well, he's earned it.

It feels like we've been talking about this stuff forever. It also feels like nothing has ever actually changed. How is that possible? How can not doing anything be so exhausting?

Dryden is one of the smartest people in hockey; he literally wrote the book on the sport, when he published The Game in 1983. His new book is called Game Changer, and it's going to land in the hockey world with an impact. You should read it. We all should.

And then, we'll start up the same old arguments we've already been having. Some will want to see blanket bans on all hits to the head, including fighting. Others will mumble about the good old days and how hockey players used to be tough and how we can go watch figure skating if we don't like it. And around and around we'll go.

I've written about "just finishing my check" before, and I'm all on favor of getting rid of the whole concept. It doesn't make sense that arriving a tenth of a second too early is always a penalty, but two seconds late sometimes isn't. Treat it like the NFL treats hitting a QB—if you haven't already committed to the hit, you have to avoid it. That's a simple change, and the NHL should make it.

Banning all hits to the head is tougher. I'm all for it; I'm just not convinced you can make it happen. Take a look at Martin Hanzal's hit on Yannick Weber from last week. In a league where open-ice checking is allowed, how do you hit a guy who's coming straight at you with his head that low? Is there any responsibility at all on the guy with the puck to protect himself? Can you just hunch over and stay low and become untouchable? That sounds silly, but then we used to think players would never intentionally turn their backs along the boards to avoid hits, and now it's a standard play. So I don't know.

And that's the frustrating part. I've been writing about this stuff for almost a decade, and I still don't know. Not what to do, not what to change, not what to keep. Almost all of us want to get to the same place, but nobody seems to know how.

In the end, maybe it comes down to the point McKenzie makes at the end of his essay: Eventually, the players have to decide what kind of game they want to play. If they want big changes, they have the power to make it happen. If they're OK with the status quo, then the rest of us are probably wasting our time.

Or maybe that's just passing the buck, and taking the easy way out on a hard question. Even after all this time, I honestly still don't know.

Obscure Former Player of the Week

Today marks the 24th anniversary of the first-ever NHL meeting between Wayne and Brent Gretzky. So it seems like a good day to honor another member of the Less Successful Younger Brother Travelling All-Stars, joining past alumni like Fedor Fedorov and Rocky Trottier. This week's obscure player is Steve Kariya.

Kariya was a college star who captained the University of Maine to an NCAA championship in 1999. But unlike his older brother Paul, who went fourth overall in 1993, Steve was never even drafted. The reason was fairly simple: He was just too small. At 5'6" and 170 pounds, he'd probably have a shot today, but back in the late-90s you almost never saw players that size.

Still, Kariya caught on with the Canucks as a free agent, and made an early impression by putting up ten points in six games during the 1999 preseason. That earned him a spot on the roster, and he managed eight goals and 19 points in 45 games as a rookie. Unfortunately, he'd play just 20 more NHL games and score just one more goal over the next two seasons in Vancouver, before being dealt to the Devils for Mikko Jokela. He never suited up in New Jersey, or anywhere else in the NHL. His big-league career was over after three seasons and 65 games.

That left him well behind his Hall-of-Fame brother on the all-time scoring list, although his contribution does get the family over the 1,000-point mark. He went on to a decent pro career in the AHL and Europe, and was popular with fans who appreciated the hard work he had to put in to compete against bigger players. You can relive some of his best moments through the wonders of still photography in this fan-made YouTube tribute video.

Debating the Issues

This week's debate: The Toronto Maple Leafs are good again, and Auston Matthews is emerging as an early MVP candidate. Do the Leafs get too much media attention?

In favor: Oh lord yes. Ask a fan of literally any other team. We're already sick of having the Leafs shoved down our throats.

Opposed: Oh, stop being so sensitive. The Leafs are a fun team. Their rapid-fire rebuild is an interesting story. And yes, they're one of the league's biggest markets, so of course they're going to get some extra attention. That's how the media works.

In favor: Some extra attention? Try all of it. You'd think none of the other teams even existed, thanks to all this round-the-clock coverage of whether Matthews scratched his left or his right cheek when he woke up this morning.

Opposed: You're exaggerating. Other teams get plenty of attention too, even if grumpy fanbases want to resort to making stuff up to pretend otherwise. In a 24-hour media world, there's plenty of coverage to go around, and if you can't find anything about your team it's because you'd rather whine than look for it.

In favor: But that's the point. I have to go looking for my team, because everybody leads with the Leafs and Matthews.

Opposed: Of course they do. You don't think Aaron Judge gets extra attention because he plays for the Yankees? Dak Prescott shouldn't have a bigger spotlight on the Cowboys? This is how the world works. That's not bias. That's just business.

In favor: It's business and bias, and there's nothing wrong with pointing that out.

Opposed: Oh boo hoo. You guys are so paranoid, always seeing pro-Leafs bias lurking behind every corner. It's almost comical.

In favor: Maybe not every corner, but it's…hey, wait a second, isn't this very column written by a known Leafs fan?

Opposed: Um… no it's not.

In favor: It totally is. He can't go two weeks without writing about them. They're even in this week's YouTube section.

Opposed: OK, fine. But again, that's not the same as being biased.

In favor: How can you tell?

Opposed: Because if this column were biased, your side of the debate would be written in a way that made you seem ridiculous.

In favor: Huh. I guess that's a good point. And in related news, I am a big stupid-head.

Opposed: Huh. Interesting.

In favor: HEY! I saw that! This is exactly what I'm talking about! A real-life example of the media favoring the Maple Leafs over my lame boring team that literally nobody cares about.

Opposed: You don't say?

In favor: STOP THIS! This isn't fair! Also, I am a giant crybaby with a crippling case of little-brother syndrome, and secretly want the Maple Leafs to win because complaining about them is the only joy in my dull and shallow life.

Opposed: Fascinating.

In favor: I hate you.

Opposed: The media is not biased in favor of the Maple Leafs and Auston Matthews.

In favor: The media is not biased in favor of the Maple Leafs and Auston Matthews.

The final verdict: The media is not biased in favor of the 2018 Stanley Cup champion Toronto Maple Leafs and perfect wonderful boy Auston Matthews, and anyone who says otherwise is a big whiny baby.

Classic YouTube Clip Breakdown

So yeah, things are going pretty well in Toronto these days. But balance is important, so we need to nudge Leaf fans back towards their natural state of despair. So today, let's travel back to 1991 for a reminder that the Leafs can't ever have nice things.

We're watching an interview with Maple Leafs GM Floyd Smith, who's in his second season on the job and has had a busy few months. He recently made the worst trade in Maple Leafs history, his team is headed for last place, and everyone in Toronto wants him to lose his job. It's not going well.

This clip is from 1991. I don't have a specific date, but it's from some time before June, because that's when Smith is going to get fired. I would have put a spoiler alert on that, but this is a story about the Maple Leafs. You already knew it wasn't ending well.

In case you're not familiar with Floyd Smith, he played 13 seasons in the NHL, was a head coach for six seasons, went into scouting, and was eventually named Toronto's GM in 1989. He's a guy who's been around. And, as we're about to find out, at this point in his career he gives exactly zero dangnabbits what you or anyone else think about his work.

Our piece is introduced by CTV sports anchor Joe Tilley, who doesn't seem to be a big fan of Smith's. He's actually being restrained here—check out this clip from the same season in which he absolutely ethers Smith as "under-qualified and hopelessly incompetent." And here he is two decades later singing about the Leafs being hopeless. Also, he was apparently a three-time Alberta welterweight champion. I thoroughly enjoy Joe Tilley.

Sadly, Tilley isn't handling the actual interview; those duties to go to Suneel Joshi. But first, we need to meet the unquestioned star of our show: Whoever it is that does the graphics at CTV sports. This guy is fantastic. He starts us off with "Crisis Management" and a Maple Leafs logo being torn in half. That's some subtle symbolism right there.

Wait, why is the "A" from Leafs lying there, but not the "O" from Toronto? This is going to bother me all day.

Smith starts right in on the Leafs, and how awful they've been for the last decade. He's not wrong there. Meanwhile, Joshi listens to him with the exact same expression and posture my wife uses when I try to tell her about my fantasy football team.

Joshi asks about the pending shakeup in Leafs ownership, and whether that has Smith worried. The GM replies that "I don't hear very much from the people around here." Uh, that probably means you should be worried, Floyd.

We get our second graphic: "Let's Make a Deal," which disappointingly does not feature a bunch of Maple Leaf players dressed in outrageous costumes. Instead, it's fistful of Canadian twenties, which appear to be being offered to the Maple Leafs logo as compensation for the recent ripping-in-half incident.

Smith pumps the tires of a few of the team's veterans, including team captain Rob Ramage, "who gives us tremendous leadership." Fun fact: the Leafs lost Ramage in the expansion draft that May.

We really kick into high gear when Joshi asks if Smith has given up too much of the future. "What future? What'd I give up?" I love this answer so much, and it's made even better when Joshi asks a follow-up about Scott Pearson and Smith answers by talking about Scott Thornton, who at this point is still on the team. But for the record, neither Pearson nor Johnny McIntyre amounted to all that much, so Smith is kind of sort of right here.

Smith then explains that "all the teams that are up near the top" are trading away picks and prospects, which is maybe not the best point to hit when your team is closing in on dead last. But he redeems himself with "Draft picks are good when they play, but only 20% of them play." Hell yeah, look at Floyd breaking out the analytics!

Seriously though, Cliff Fletcher said "draft schmaft" in 1996 and to this day people still bring it up, but Smith basically torched his whole scouting department in this interview and nobody cared. The internet ruined everything.

Our next graphic: "The Price Is Right." Wait, are we doing a game show theme here? Was "Crisis Management" a game show? Because that sounds awesome.

We shift to talk about Wendel Clark's contract, during which Smith says Clark's recent problems were "more mental than physical." Again, let's imagine a GM saying something like this today. We'd have three days of blistering hot takes and counter-takes. Back then, every Leaf fan watched this interview and went "Sure, I guess" and went back to organizing our eight-track cassettes.

Our last graphic is "Search for Tomorrow," which was definitely not a game show. But that doesn't bother me because I'm looking at a Maple Leafs logo flat on its back while beams of light poke through a clouded sky. Did…did the Maple Leafs die? Are they going to heaven right now, graphics guy? Should I have brought flowers?

"We're in a tough division with some good hockey teams." Oh great, as if things weren't bad enough the Leafs have apparently been kicked out of the Norris.

We wrap up with Smith running down a short list of areas the Leafs need to improve in: Their play within the division, their play on the road, and "definitely" their play at home. Other than that, they're all set.

And we end with Smith planting his flag in the ground, with a promise to Leafs fans: "I feel really strongly that…uh…it will not embarrass anybody next year." Aim for the stars, Floyd!

The epilogue here is that Smith was quickly fired and replaced by Fletcher, who almost immediately turned the Leafs into contenders. That was pretty much it for Smith as an NHL front office presence, much to the despair of interviewers everywhere.

Bonus YouTube Clip

RIP, Gord.

DGB Grab Bag: Extremely Polite Refs, Mean Wingers, and Toronto's Back, Baby! published first on http://ift.tt/2pLTmlv