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thedumpsterqueen · 4 years

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Standards of Performance, Chapter 5: Thai Food and Realizations

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4

AO3 Link

I got this one out QUICK because I'm moving this week and packing is taking up 94% of my brainpower but!! It's out on time!! If I ever have to delay a chapter, I’ll post an update here on my blog. Also, I don’t usually do taglists, but I have had a few people ask - so if you want to be added to a taglist for new chapters, just shoot me a message! I love you all so much, thank you for the continued support and comments!!! <3

Summary: You’re the BAU’s newest intern, desperate to prove yourself amongst an established team of much more experienced profilers. Agent Hotchner, the seemingly infallible team leader, sets strict expectations for your performance. He commands your respect without even trying, but is there something more to your relationship than a simple desire to impress your stony-faced boss?

Chapter: 5, Thai Food and Realizations

Chapter Summary: You decide to talk to Hotch after the Matthews incident, and wind up discovering a lot more about both of you than you bargained for.

Words: 2616

Rating: Explicit, 18+

Pairings: Hotch x Reader, Hotch x You

You weren’t prepared with the immense boredom that came with actually having free time.

The rest of the team had closed the case and flown back (at least you assumed they had; you hadn’t checked), and Hotch had texted you not to bother coming back in until they got a new assignment. You were grateful for the courtesy - a little time to decompress after almost being murdered was nice - but after months of having almost no life outside of the internship, you weren’t entirely sure what to do with yourself.

By the time day four rolled around, you had caught up on the reading you’d been meaning to get to, deep cleaned twice, tried and failed to get into running, and sought out at least a dozen other forms of mindless entertainment. You tried not to think about the fact that this would be the perfect time to catch up with friends if you actually had any, but your college and post-college life spent studying like a madwoman to land a position with the BAU hadn’t exactly lent itself to a healthy social life. There were acquaintances, of course, people you’d spent time with, college boys you’d dated briefly, but none of them had ever lasted. Gotten close.

None of them had ever killed a man for you.

That was the core of it, right? The reason you couldn’t get him out of your head? He’d only known you for a few months, not like the rest of his team that he’d dedicated years to, and yet he didn’t hesitate to end someone’s life in brutal fashion to save yours. You were grateful, of course, given the alternative, but a part of you felt bad. Given his history, he was already encumbered with enough trauma - the last thing he’d needed was another death on his conscience.

That was his decision to make.

That’s what you told yourself, at least. Or tried to. But after four days of the guilt eating at you and failing to distract yourself from it, that thought stopped being reassuring. That evening, after a couple glasses of wine, you finally worked up the courage to acknowledge the idea that had been tossing around in the periphery of your mind for a while.

Committing to action before you convinced yourself this was a dumb idea - and it was, of course, but the slight buzz and four days of isolation said otherwise - you called in an order to the Thai place down the street and heaved yourself off the couch. You tried not to care about how you looked, but changed your outfit an embarrassing number of times before you got the text that your order was ready.

When you first started at the BAU, Garcia had sent you a directory of all the team members’ information. You remembered asking her why their home addresses were on the list - that’s kind of unnecessary, isn’t that, like, personal? you’d said - and you remembered the sad look she’d given you by way of an answer. Turns out the job had followed them all home at one point or another, usually in a way that required rescuing. As you checked the directory for Hotch’s address, you considered that this information was probably only intended to be used if you needed to save him from an unhinged serial killer breaking into his home, but you figured “thanking your boss for snapping a man’s neck to save your life” was a satisfactory enough purpose.

Turns out, Hotch lived in an apartment only a few blocks away from yours. After picking up the takeout order, you started to make the trek. The closer you got, however, the more your confidence started to waver, and not just because you started to realize how weird you were about to look. Even in the dimming light of the evening, you could tell from the building facades that you were entering a much more well-to-do part of downtown. The storefronts and restaurants occupying the bottom floor of brick condos looked more high-class, the cars parked along the sidewalk more expensive and well-maintained. It made sense given his status in the FBI that Hotch could afford to live in an area like this, but still, you hadn’t imagined it. You hadn’t imagined him living outside of work at all, actually - like an elementary school teacher, it was strange to think that he had a life outside of his job.

You stopped outside of the address on your cell phone, a greystone, ivy-covered apartment building. The doorman saw you pause at the threshold and opened the door from the inside.

“Visiting, I assume?” he asked, as you stepped inside.

Still in shock at the fact that you were in the sort of area that had doormen, you nodded. “Um, yes, Agent Hotchner? I mean, Aaron Hotchner? I work with him. For him, actually. He doesn’t know I’m coming.”

The doorman gracefully ignored your verbal fumbling. “Do you have a badge?”

It made sense that Hotch would use that as a barrier to entry. Smart. You nodded again and produced it from your bag. He waved you on to the stairwell, where you made the climb to the fourth and topmost floor.

You stuttered to a stop outside his door at the very end of the hall. Suddenly overcome with nerves, you took a mental stock of yourself: slightly winded from the four-floor climb, dressed in an oversized sweater and leggings, hair less-than-artfully windswept, hands slightly shaking with adrenaline, clutching a bag of takeout. Not the image you wanted to present to your boss.

God, this was such a fucking stupid idea.

You started to turn away, intending to leave the way you came, when the door in front of you flew open. You yelped, dropping the bag, and turned back to see Hotch standing in the doorway. He was in his work pants, still, but a plain black t-shirt replaced his usual button-up. His left hand was on the half-open door, right hand behind his back, no doubt holding his gun. You put your hands up sheepishly in surrender.

“Hey, Agent Hotchner. Sorry. I just wanted to-”

“What are you doing here?” he interrupted, eyebrows screwed up in confusion.

“I’m sorry. I wanted to, um, thank you. For saving me, the other day. I brought you dinner.”

He continued to look at you like you’d just grown two heads.

You leaned down and picked up the bag of food, holding it out towards him lamely. He looked down at it and finally seemed to relax, shaking his head.

“I’m sorry. I don’t get many- I wasn’t expecting a visitor. Please, come in.”

It hadn’t occurred to you that he might invite you in, but you weren’t about to pass up the opportunity to see Aaron Hotchner’s apartment. You stepped in, and he replaced the gun he was holding back in a drawer by the entryway, locking the door behind you. You were suddenly overcome with sorrow, knowing his life had progressed in such a way that hearing footsteps outside his door was a cause for alarm.

The apartment was nearly as intimidating as the man himself. Tall, industrial ceilings loomed over the open, warehouse-style floorplan, populated by neutral furnishings. An exposed brick wall on the left housed a stainless-steel kitchen, while a king-sized bed on the far right wall was placed near the only closed portion of the space, which you guessed was the bathroom. The windows were numerous - multi-paned and massive, but curtains were drawn over most of them. It was all a reflection of Hotch - impressive and somewhat cold.

There was a single photo, from what you could see, in the entire apartment - a small frame on the otherwise file-covered coffee table between the couch and flatscreen. It was a photo of Hotch, a woman, and a young child. You found yourself drawn towards it, as Hotch took the bag from you to set it on the kitchen island, and you walked over to pick it up. He was smiling in the photo - a genuine smile, not the tight-lipped imitations you caught a few times at the office - and the sight filled you with emotion. Who was he before you met him? A father, a husband, of course, but what was he like? Did he laugh at Prentiss and Morgan’s off-color jokes instead of chiding them, did he go out to social gatherings with the team? Did he spare emotion when speaking to a victim’s family, as he so rarely did now? Would he have broken a man’s neck without thought like he did to Matthews?

“You’ll stay for dinner?”

You quickly set the frame back down.

“Oh, no, I wasn’t planning on it. Like I said, I just wanted to thank you. I’ve been thinking about it the last few days and I just feel… bad. I guess. You didn’t have to do that.”

“Why would you feel bad?”

You hesitated, trying to avoid the truth - that he didn’t need another body on his conscience. He waited for an answer, and when he didn't receive one, he stepped closer and scanned your face. "What aren't you telling me?"

You weren't keeping anything from him, not really, you just didn't want it to sound like you were calling his mental state into question like you did at the hotel. It didn't matter though, because he had apparently pulled the answer from your expression already.

“You think I’m damaged. And that killing Matthews somehow added to that.”

There was no point in even attempting to lie to him, so you stayed silent.

Hotch sighed and pulled out a seat at the kitchen island. You took it and watched him distribute the takeout containers between the two of you, noticing that despite insisting you weren’t intending to stay for dinner, you’d ordered plenty of food for two people.

Profiling yourself is the worst.

“When Haley and I were married,” Hotch began, picking at his curry, “I took her for granted. I spent more late nights at work than I can count, and I always assumed she would be there when I got home. She was, at first, and then she wasn’t.”

You nodded, afraid to speak, trying not to disturb the moment you’d somehow stumbled upon.

“She had an affair. I never confronted her about it, but I knew. I didn’t hate her for it, but when she asked for a divorce, I let her go without a fight. I wanted the best chance to keep Jack in my life and I didn’t want things to get ugly between us. It worked - I got to see Jack; we were amicable.”

He paused before continuing, “They were killed a few years later by George Foyet. We mismanaged that case. He was ahead of us the entire time; we couldn’t catch up. When we finally caught him, after Haley and Jack-” His voice finally broke, and he set down his fork, staring at the counter.

“He surrendered. I didn't care.”

“You beat him to death,” you whispered. You’d looked up the case file, after JJ had told you what happened.

He nodded, seemingly unsurprised you were familiar with the details. “I was never charged, hardly investigated. No one blamed me. I took some time off, and I came back. I thought about going back to law, but I didn’t.”

He looked up at you, meeting your gaze. “Why didn’t I?”

You blinked away the tears that were forming, confused.”I-I’m sorry?”

“Why didn’t I go back to law? Leave the BAU? You should know the answer.”

“Are you asking me to profile you?”

He nodded in confirmation. “You’re not going to offend me, don’t worry.”

Hotch was the last person you wanted to profile, especially to his face, but you knew better than to try to refuse.

“You... wanted a sense of purpose. If you could keep the same thing from happening to other people, it would make up for what happened to your family,” you responded quietly. It was an easy answer, but it still felt wrong to put Hotch on display like that, especially after he’d already revealed more to you than you’d ever seen him do with anyone.

“Correct,” he said, without a hint of the bitterness you’d have expected to accompany that statement.

“And did it? Help, I mean?”

He studied your face, as if trying to decide whether to grant you the answer. You were suddenly aware of the strangeness of the situation - sitting feet away from your boss in his own apartment talking about the darkest moments of his life. This was insight you doubted he’d ever given before, and as you glanced over his mussed hair, the black t-shirt, caught a whiff of his cologne, you tried not to think about the implications of that statement.

Clearing his throat and raising his eyebrows, he turned back to his food. “It did. It does, most of the time. The rest of the team has been exceptionally understanding, perhaps more so than I deserve.”

“You deserve everything they can give you,” you said with a small smile. “From what they’ve told me, you’ve done the same for each of them several times over.”

“It’s my job,” Hotch said, but you could tell he softened at hearing how his team regarded him.

You both went back to your food, finishing the meal in relative silence - the kind that was comfortable, where you both knew that everything that needed to be said for now, had been. At least, the silence probably felt comfortable to him. Your mind was in overdrive.

Everything Hotch had said and done the last few months that had caused you to falter - the way he shook your hand when you first signed onto the BAU internship, the innocuous moments of praise, that goddamn tie - they were circling your mind like a vulture waiting for the kill. You had tried to brush those moments off, but hearing him open up like this, bare his soul, was too much. It was the next look you stole, watching him eat in quiet contemplation, faint remnants of the blush from the compliment you paid him still gracing his cheeks, that did you in.

You were pretty sure you were in love with Aaron Hotchner.

You were so, so unbelievably fucked.

____________

When Hotch bid you goodbye that night, after you helped clean up his kitchen (which allowing you to do had been a debate in itself), you had the brief, stupid thought that you should just be honest with him. How long, truly, were you going to be able to hide the fact that you were infatuated with your boss? Especially when your boss was in the business of reading people like books?

That idea went out the window, however, when he leaned against the doorway with his signature half-smile and said, “Thank you for everything tonight. I’m glad you’re on the team,” because you know where you wouldn't be, if you confessed your sudden realization? On the team. Hotch made it clear when he hired you, and every day since, that clear judgement was paramount to the team's success. There was no way he'd trust you to be unbiased in a situation that required it if he knew how you felt. And this position was too much to think about giving up, not after the years of studying and social isolation that allowed you to make the cut.

So, you can do this, you decided. You can lie to Aaron Hotchner.

Right?

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beca-mitchell · 5 years

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you are my favorite thing (1/1)

Summary: Beca and Chloe find themselves alone in their apartment after the instruction comes to self-isolate. Set pre-PP3. Just pretend PP3 doesn’t exist.

Notes: Apologies for this fic. It stuck with me...and I had to write it before it drove me crazy. I know it's not that good but hopefully it brings a small smidge of levity to your lives. <3 I promise I'm working on other stuff, just haven't been feeling well lately.

Word count: 3.1k

Rated M/E.

Read below or on AO3.

When the announcement came that it would be in everybody’s best interest to self-quarantine and self-isolate, Beca hadn’t really known what to expect. In fact, she feels kind of bad for not taking this more seriously and leaving Chloe to pick up the slack. Chloe, who had been almost zealously preparing for the “worst to come” by her standards.

And now, apparently the CDC’s standards.

With the rampant news updates and social media seemingly tearing itself apart at the seams, Beca kind of wishes she had picked a career that required her to be on her computer less but now as she lugs her two laptops and three pairs of headphones home from the label’s head office in midtown, she supposes that she has no choice.

“Oh good, you’re home,” Chloe says upon seeing her. She reaches out automatically to help Beca with her bags as Beca belabours the fact that they live on the fourth floor of their walk-up. She tries to smile gratefully at Chloe, but Chloe is already pacing across the small kitchen space in front of her.

“No welcome home?” Beca jokes. She shrugs off her blazer and moves towards the rack of clothes so she can hang it up neatly. Chloe quickly places a hand on her chest but before Beca has a chance to squawk indignantly at Chloe’s hand placement (Beca totally doesn’t think it’s nice or whatever...because she doesn’t care), Chloe stares at her seriously.

“Do we have enough groceries?”

“Did you eat all the groceries from two days ago?” Beca asks, confused. She turns on her heel to open the fridge to check. “Nope, we literally have all the food that we still haven’t eaten.”

Chloe slumps, moving to sit at the table instead. “Sorry, it’s just been super hectic today. I know we just went to get stuff, but my parents are stressing me out so much.”

Beca smiles sympathetically. “I get it, my dad was messaging me all day today. I told him it would be fine. It’s just a matter of waiting it out.” Beca injects some optimism into her tone. “Plus, Amy isn’t around this weekend so…” she trails off hoping Chloe will understand.

Chloe brightens. “Trashy television night?”

Internally Beca groans, but the smile on her face is genuine because it’s worth it to see Chloe smile.

— — — — —

So the whole having a crush on your captain/co-captain/best friend/bedmate thing?

Kind of overrated. Beca’s over it—or she wants to be over it.

She wants to stop thinking about how nice Chloe’s smile is or how effortlessly Chloe can lift her when she overenthusiastically hugs Beca.

Or how ridiculously happy Chloe makes her.

All those dumb things and dumb feelings that she never really felt to any extreme or significant levels with Jesse. And definitely not that one night stand after her break-up with Jesse.

It’s just that Chloe had somehow always been there, somehow slipping through the cracks and all the crevices of Beca’s carefully constructed walls—places that Beca didn’t even know were available to fall victim to Chloe’s special brand of love and care.

But if there’s one thing that Beca has come to love about Chloe, it is exactly that care—that specific way Chloe somehow makes her feel like she’s the most cherished person in a room. In the world, maybe.

It’s gross and cheesy.

Beca loves it.

It just kind of sucks that all of this pondering—all the pondering the world, maybe—wasn’t enough for Beca to be wary of what it would mean to be stuck twenty-four-seven in an enclosed space with the girl she’s in love with.

— — — — —

With how busy their lives have been, Beca realizes with a pang in her heart that she really hasn’t had time to just sit down with Chloe and just be. It’s Tuesday and after a weekend spent just catching up with Chloe and meal-prepping for the rest of the week, Beca realizes that this whole situation could be a lot worse.

I’ve missed you, is what she wants to say.

Like most things when it comes to her feelings for Chloe, it just sticks inside her head instead and she settles on saying good morning to Chloe.

“It feels weird,” Chloe admits, sitting down next to Beca on Tuesday morning. She scoots her chair closer to press her cheek against Beca’s shoulder.

Beca scrolls lazily through her social media feeds, a habit she picked up from Chloe. Naturally, her body turns into the warmth offered by Chloe’s close proximity. “What feels weird?”

Chloe sighs. It is a large enough sigh to shift Beca’s shoulder as Chloe moves against her. “Not having work.”

Unlike Beca who was permitted to work from home, Chloe’s supervisor suggested that she just take some time off. It wasn’t like Chloe was really being paid a lot to begin with, as a temporary veterinary assistant, but Beca knows that the blow must be hard on both the financial and emotional level.

“You can be my assistant for the day,” Beca suggests. “I have to finish finalizing a few tracks on this album. You can give me feedback. It’ll just be like the old days. Just, um, don’t tell anybody about it. And no posting on social media.”

Chloe immediately brightens at that, like Beca just offered her the entire world on a silver platter. The kiss that she presses to Beca’s cheek is absolutely worth it.

— — — — —

Chloe is, as Beca has always known, incredibly attentive. She also has no real concept of personal space.

Beca knows however, that if she had bothered to say anything to Chloe about that, Chloe would have backed off years ago, but Beca kind of likes that it’s their thing. Kind of.

So when Chloe leans right over her shoulder to watch her work, Beca says nothing.

Whatever.

This is way better than being stuck in an office.

— — — — —

“Hey,” Chloe says, drawing Beca’s eyes up from her screen. “I’m just going to shower, do you mind.”

Beca shakes her head, no, because she doesn’t mind. Chloe lives here too. Chloe can totally walk around half-naked if she wants. She’s confident about all that. Chloe can toss a towel over her shoulder and hum to herself. Chloe can squeeze Beca’s shoulder in affection. Chloe can step into their dingy bathtub, draw back the curtain and proceed to strip off all her clothes in front of Beca—almost quite literally—and just shower a few feet away from where Beca is accidentally deleting an important layer in her audio editing program.

Chloe can do whatever she wants because Beca and Chloe are roommates and that’s what roommates do.

— — — — —

Chloe doesn’t need to shower every day, Beca’s sure of it.

She’s not really complaining. It’s not like she can even see anything, though the reappearance of her rather vivid sex dreams about Chloe on Thursday night is alarming.

But honestly, Beca’s not really complaining even though she hundred percent moves her seat at the kitchen table on Friday so her back is towards the shower.

She thinks Chloe pouts at her on the way to her shower, but Beca’s too busy renaming arbitrary files on her computer to really pay attention to that.

— — — — —

It’s crazy that it is in these circumstances that Beca is really truly considering that she should just tell Chloe how she feels. It’s just hard, wanting to kiss Chloe all the time. It’s hard because they’re really and truly alone and Beca has nothing to do but stare at Chloe’s stupidly perfect face and her lips and she has to see her sweet smile.

It’s gross. Beca’s gross.

(It also doesn’t help that sometimes she catches Chloe staring back—with the same degree of affection to boot. The same care, affection, and desire in her eyes that Beca knows must be shooting out of her own like fucking spotlights.

But she supposes that she could be imagining it too.)

“Beca?” Chloe asks. “Are you watching?”

Chloe’s voice cuts through Beca’s thoughts gently. Beca gazes up at Chloe who has not moved her attention from the screen. She takes the moment to genty observe the curve of Chloe’s nose. The fullness of her lips. The way her lips gently part as she expels a breath.

“Yeah,” Beca says before slowly dragging her eyes back to the screen with some reluctance.

She’s fucked.

— — — — —

Beca Dude where are you

Fat Amy At a friend’s place, don’t wait up xoxoxo

Beca What???? Come home now Amy?????

— — — — —

“Remember college and how I said I wish I experimented more?”

Beca chokes on her water.

“N...yes? Why?” Beca demands, ignoring the way her heart races. Being in close proximity to Chloe tends to do that to her. Nothing new.

Chloe hums to herself. “Nothing. Just lots of time to think today.”

“Oh,” Beca says. “Okay.” She quickly refocuses on her work.

Chloe sighs and returns to her textbook.

— — — — —

Beca blames the long, extended time spent inside. She kind of forgets that they had dinner plans. Or that she probably should have sent that email to her boss.

It’s so easy to forget that they’ve been confined to their apartment for days, but Beca can’t complain.

Mostly because Chloe’s tongue is in her mouth doing absolutely sinful things.

And well—now they’re kind of tumbling onto their deeply uncomfortable but satisfactory for the moment bed, Beca grunting as her back hits the mattress heavily.

“Sorry,” Chloe pants out, drawing back. “Are you—”

“M’fine,” Beca mumbles, pulling Chloe back down for a kiss. Chloe responds eagerly, not-at-all minding that she had been cut off. Instead, she makes a happy little sound, curving her body neatly into Beca’s. The warmth of Chloe’s body on top of her own is driving Beca crazy—that and the distinct lack of friction between her own legs. “Wait,” Beca says, after pushing lightly at Chloe’s shoulders. “Wait—can you—”

Chloe’s brow furrows. “What is it?”

“Just…clothes,” Beca mumbles.

“Oh!” Chloe grins then. “So forward.”

Beca’s cheeks heat up spectacularly. She both loves and hates that Chloe can still tease her like this, even though they’ve both completely eviscerated whatever fragile lines they had set up in their already-confusing friendship.

Chloe, ever the master of making Beca feel many things at once, doesn’t stop there, however. She smiles, leans back—sits all the way upright for Beca’s viewing pleasure—and pulls off her shirt in a smooth motion that makes Beca’s mouth go dry.

Then, when Beca thinks that it can’t get worse…

“I like it when you’re forward,” Chloe murmurs, leaning back down to cup Beca’s cheeks before kissing her so thoroughly and deeply that Beca thinks she might soak through her jeans completely.

Speaking of her jeans—

Beca whimpers into Chloe’s mouth when she feels Chloe’s thumbs expertly popping open the button on her jeans before Chloe is pulling away again to slide the offending material down her legs. Beca scrambles to sit upright so she can pull off her shirt quickly.

It is all pent-up urgency and flying clothes as Chloe climbs back over her, all messy hair and flawless skin, and pulls her into another sweeping kiss. It ought to be illegal, the way Chloe’s tongue flicks through her mouth, desperately seeking out Beca’s. Chloe somehow has made making out a high-level art form and Beca is only all too willing to pay full price for admission to that particular show.

Beca has imagined this, she would be remiss if she weren’t going to admit it right off the bat. It is just difficult reconciling her imagination with this reality because the reality is making Beca’s imagination look very, very weak.

Chloe’s arms come around her, pressing against the mattress before Chloe is rolling them all at once. Beca groans, moving to straddle Chloe which proves to be a mistake, somewhat, because suddenly she can feel the ripple of Chloe’s stomach—damn abs—right against her soaked center. She bites her lip, leaning back slightly and watching with rapt attention as Chloe follows, folding Beca into her arms again.

“I want you so much,” Chloe rasps, voice hot and low against Beca’s neck. “Like, right now.”

Have me, Beca wants to say. I’m yours.

A whole slew of clichés float through Beca’s mind, but all she manages is a guttural moan because Chloe chooses that mount to eagerly palm Beca’s stiff nipple while sucking a nasty hickey into the side of her neck.

“Was that a yes?” Chloe murmurs.

“Fuck yes,” Beca grits out, holding Chloe’s head against her as Chloe’s kisses descend lower so she can envelop Beca’s neglected nipple in her mouth. The sensation of Chloe’s lips, her tongue, the graze of her teeth—all of it right against Beca’s sensitive flesh.

— — — — —

So how that happened is kind of a long story and it might or might not be Beca’s fault.

The short story is that Chloe wanted to watch a movie and Beca had agreed because movie nights with Chloe usually meant cuddling.

But strange times call for unexpected occurrences, though upon reflection, the build-up had been there all along.

(Literally. For years.)

Beca just didn’t really expect the whole making out thing. And the sex thing.

Oh—

And the whole ‘watching Chloe sleep next to her while she runs her fingers through beautiful red hair to calm herself down because her heart is threatening to burst out of her heart’ thing.

That thing.

— — — — —

“You’re horrible at picking up signals,” is the first thing Chloe says to her when Beca wakes up on a bright and sunny Saturday morning.

“I am,” Beca agrees, rolling into Chloe’s body with no intention of going outside ever again. “But maybe you’re horrible at dropping hints.”

“Maybe,” Chloe murmurs, breath hot against Beca’s mouth.

— — — — —

“So this is week two,” Beca says in the most dramatic voice she can muster. She grins at Chloe’s little delighted giggle as she pulls the sheets over both of their heads. It is early Monday and Beca’s phone has been on silent pretty much all weekend. She and Chloe pretty much only left the bed to shower and eat, both of which were activities that could be pleasantly underscored by sex.

“It is week two,” Chloe echoes, pulling Beca in for a slow, muted kiss. It reminds Beca of the kiss Chloe had woken her up with after their first time—the mild disorientation had faded away quickly.

“Whatever shall we do?”

— — — — —

Beca thinks that morning sex absolutely should be part of her regular routine—no matter the circumstances.

Chloe trails gentle fingers down Beca’s neck, between her breasts. Beca waits with heavy breaths, watching Chloe’s progress as she maps out invisible lines on Beca’s body, like an artist at work. Beca clenches her hands into fists, resisting the urge to pull Chloe into another messy kiss. She kind of likes this slower pace—this care and attention bestowed upon her. Chloe’s eyes are incredibly blue as they track over Beca’s body carefully, like she doesn’t want to miss a thing.

“You’re so…” Chloe trails off, sighing happily as she presses lazy kisses around the curve of Beca’s breast before leaning up to suck gently at her nipple. A familiar sensation now, Beca’s back still arches obediently as her breathing quickens.

She doesn’t need Chloe to finish her sentence. She just needs Chloe to continue whatever she’s doing. Naturally, Chloe settles between her legs after a few more torturous minutes of lavishing attention on Beca’s chest. Beca’s hips rock up impatiently, almost of their own accord. She is wholly aware of how uncomfortably wet she is and she knows she’s going to need another shower, but she doesn’t care about that at the moment. The ache between her legs only intensifies when Chloe’s fingers finally make their way to her aching clit.

“Oh fuck,” Beca mumbles. She slowly moves her hand to tangle her hand in Chloe’s hair, needing to feel Chloe closer on all accounts. She spreads her legs wider to accommodate her lover, heaving a breath when Chloe shifts closer still and leans up to press a kiss against Beca’s neck delicately.

“I think I love seeing you like this the most,” Chloe murmurs.

“Like—how?” Beca squeaks out when Chloe’s fingers press down more firmly against her clit. A soft whine escapes her lips.

“This. Spread open. For me.”

Chloe says that like it is the most natural thing she could say to Beca. She says it like she is simply discussing a reading assignment or that she thinks Beca should add another layer of harmonies.

Not at all like she's describing exactly how much Beca wants her; how wet she is; how much she needs Chloe between her legs before she combusts.

Beca pulls Chloe in for a messy kiss, already aching for Chloe’s tongue in her mouth. Chloe indulges her for a few moments, sweeping her fingers through her wet folds. Up, down. Around.

Beca cries out, muffled against Chloe’s mouth. She rips herself away from their kiss. “Chloe, please. Fuck me.”

Chloe grins and leans back in to nip at her lower lip gently. “I thought I was?”

Beca groans in frustration. Fucking tease. She tightens her legs around Chloe’s waist, moving her hips so that Chloe’s fingers almost slip inside her. At the sensation, her head falls back and she lets out a broken whimper.

“Oh,” Chloe murmurs. “You meant like this.” Chloe gently pushes a finger past her folds and Beca clenches hard around it. Chloe begins a slow rhythm, curling her finger every now and then. “And like this.”

It is such a slow, steady pace that Beca has no real reason to complain. Uncomfortably, her neck arches. She reaches down to grip at Chloe’s wrist with a trembling hand, but she does not stop her. “More,” she whimpers. Begs. “Please, baby, more.”

Chloe seems to perk up at the pet name (or the begging—Beca thinks she should do more research; she can absolutely do more research with all the time in the world at her disposal) and to her credit, she listens to Beca for once. She picks up the pace, this time adding a second finger to join the first. Beca grunts at the fullness, blinking up at the ceiling for a brief moment before she squeezes her eyes shut only to see stars explode behind her eyelids. She grunts again, louder, slackening her grip on Chloe’s wrist. Automatically, her hand drifts to her momentarily-neglected clit and she rubs at it with as much pressure as she dares.

Chloe growls—full-on growls—and nips at her throat before using her free hand to move Beca’s hand out of the way. “I want to,” is all she says when Beca opens her eyes, ready to demand Chloe explain herself.

Oh.

Well, if Chloe wants to do that, Beca isn’t going to stop her. They’ve got weeks to figure it out.

— — — — —

Beca Amy, nvm, you should probably stay exactly where you are Just to be safe yknow thanks

fin.

#bechloe #beca mitchell #chloe beale #anna kendrick #brittany snow #pitch perfect #its dumb i know #au #gif #my fanfic #mine #queue #mine:au

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yeonchi · 3 years

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Doctor Who Hiatusbreaker Update 2

Although the premiere of Doctor Who Series 13 is still a while off, let alone the announcement of a premiere date, there are a few things I’d like to talk about before that time comes. Let’s get right into it.

Filler series plans to talk about Series 1-10

Some time ago, I had plans to make a ten-part series talking about Series 1-10 in detail, but because I had a lot of stuff going on, those plans were reduced to something I call Doctor Who 10 for 10 - 10 Things for 10 Series, which was to state ten things about each series with at least 4 to 6 of these things being my opinions on each series. This was intended to be a filler series to bide the time before Series 13 comes out, but that may have to come at another time. I’m also continuing with Kisekae Insights if anyone wants to check it out.

The post-Series 13 forecast

Since Series 13 would be Jodie Whittaker’s third series as the Doctor, signs are pointing to this being her final series. There are also rumours stating that there will be two specials in 2022 that would serve as her final episodes. If this is the case, then it means that Jodie Whittaker would have been the Doctor for five years; a five-year-long ordeal of pain because series seem to be released pretty much every other year as a result of the almost-year-long gaps between them, not to mention the fact that less episodes are being produced as time goes on. Whether Chris Chibnall will be remaining on is still unknown at this time. Frankly, I’ll be glad when this is all over because I (and many other fans) have been kept hanging for so long. I just hope the Timeless Child payoff will be worth it.

At this point, the only reason why I’m still watching the series is mainly because I want to know how the Timeless Child arc plays out. The initial shocks have come and gone, but now this is where we wait and see if the aftershocks are as worse.

When I started my Thirteenth Doctor Reviews, I made a pact that I would cut off all ties with the series going forward if the Fourteenth Doctor was another female. Given the Timeless Child arc and the rumours that Olly Alexander would replace Jodie Whittaker (which would make him the first gay actor to play the Doctor) that came and went because his agent stated that he was focusing on music for the time being, I’ve honestly stopped giving a shit at this point. I’ll probably continue being a casual fan of Doctor Who, watching episodes as they come out, but regardless, all that this series will be to me is like what the Koei Warriors series has degraded itself to over the past decade. I’ll still be grateful for all the inspiration and opportunities it has provided me with over the years, but I’ll probably accept that the series has gone on a downward spiral with seemingly no way of coming back up. But hey, all will be revealed in due time, so the forecast isn’t that bleak for now.

The first look into Series 13 (added 26 July 2021)

So just today, two days after I originally published this post, the teaser trailer for Doctor Who Series 13 was released following the 2021 San Diego Comic Con@Home. Aside from the Doctor, Yaz and Dan, the only other character we see is Vinder, a recurring character throughout the series who will be played by Jacob Anderson. Recurring character, you say, and that’s because Series 13 will apparently be a single serialised story. This brings callbacks to The Trial of a Time Lord or more loosely, the multiple two-parters of Series 9. We still don’t get an exact premiere date, only that it will premiere “later this year”, but given that Series 11 and 12 took about 10 months to film, we can predict that filming of Series 13 will likely be wrapping up in the next month. Whether there will be a shorter run of five or six episodes (thereby reserving two of those episodes for the 2022 specials, assuming they won’t be filmed separately to Series 13) is unknown, but regardless, I’m looking forward to watching and reviewing the series for myself.

Jodie Whittaker and Chris Chibnall leave Doctor Who (added 30 July 2021)

In news that will surprise no one, Jodie Whittaker and Chris Chibnall have announced that they will be leaving the series in 2022. Technically, the news isn’t much of a surprise in terms of Whittaker than it is for Chibnall, as Russell T Davies and Steven Moffat have been showrunner for two Doctors each. But hey, with this, it means that my Thirteenth Doctor Reviews will also be a review of Chibnall’s run as showrunner.

My initial thoughts on this, which may or may not change coming up to Whittaker’s final episode - it was an okay run while it lasted, but honestly, good riddance. How’s that five year plan of yours going, Chibnall? If your plan was to divide the fanbase and leave them hanging with gaps between series, then you’ve really done it.

On top of this, Series 13 will be six episodes long, with the remaining two episodes to be broadcast as specials in 2022. The first of them will be a New Year’s Special (surprise surprise) and the second will follow in Spring 2022 (Northern Hemisphere). The Thirteenth Doctor’s final episode will premiere in Autumn 2022 (Northern Hemisphere) as part of the BBC’s Centenary celebrations. Some tentative dates I’m predicting are 18 October 2022, the 100th anniversary of the BBC, 23 November 2022, the 59th anniversary of Doctor Who, or 1 January 2023, which would make it another New Year’s Special (I’m not discounting 25 December 2022, I just think it’s less likely given how this era has been).

With this, the Fourteenth Doctor is expected to debut in 2023, the 60th anniversary year of Doctor Who. I just hope the new production team doesn’t disappoint the fans with that.

In terms of statistics, Jodie Whittaker has played the Doctor for 31 episodes, making her run the second shortest behind Christopher Eccleston. Peter Capaldi played the Doctor for 40 episodes, Matt Smith for 44 episodes and David Tennant for 47.

My hopes for Whittaker and Chibnall’s final episodes haven’t changed; I want to see what happens with the Timeless Child arc (and also Ruth). Whether the Fourteenth Doctor will be male or female (or played by a non-binary or trans actor), I have a few basic preliminary hopes for the next run; make each series 13 episodes again with a Christmas Special each year and put the series back on Saturday nights, like it was before Whittaker and Chibnall. Also, can we go back to filming in the 16:9 ratio? I can never get over how weird it looks on my screen (at full screen, it doesn’t look so weird when I have it playing on half screen, which is what I usually do when I write my reviews).

Jay Exci - The Fall of Doctor Who

Yes, it has been a while and I know I could have told everyone about this earlier, but better late than never I suppose. A couple of months ago, Jay Exci did a 5-hour long critique of the Chibnall era in his video, The Fall of Doctor Who. For some reason, there are those who see it as controversial because they’re NPCs who don’t want to hear criticism of the Chibnall era or they’re spergs who aren’t mature enough to sit through a 5-hour video they can watch in chunks, but hey, it’s pretty good. This is more in-depth than the reviews that people like Bowlestrek or Nerdrotic make, which essentially put Jay on their level in the eyes of the NPCs despite denying that they are on their level and being a sperg about how they’re better than them. Welcome to the party, Jay, you can check out anytime but you can never leave.

Anyway, you can check out the video below. Even if you don’t feel like watching the whole video, I highly suggest that you watch section 4.2 onwards (timestamped link here) as it does resonate with my feelings on the Timeless Child arc. I swear, this is just like Dynasty Warriors 9 all over again. I know the feeling.

youtube

Cancel culture comes for Noel Clarke and John Barrowman

The thing about cancel culture is that people can be petty about things other people have done or said years ago and they can justify it with the excuse that they’re doing it to hold those people accountable. Depending on the context, it can expose the fact that that person is a major piece of shit or it can be an overreaction to something, which in the minds of today’s society is normally the latter.

Around the time that Noel Clarke was nominated for a Bafta at the end of March, allegations emerged of abuse and sexual misconduct against him. 20 women came forward with their stories and as a result, the final episode of Viewpoint was pulled from broadcast (but still released on Blu-ray and DVD) and Bulletproof was cancelled before filming on the fourth series would begin.

In May, video emerged of Clarke at Chicago TARDIS in 2014 talking about how John Barrowman would expose his genitals and slap it on people and things. This led to allegations about Barrowman surfacing, resulting in him apologising for his actions even though he had already been reprimanded for them over a decade ago and apologised in November 2008. Despite this, his contribution to the immersive theatrical event Doctor Who: Time Fracture was pulled and Big Finish have decided to shelf the release of Torchwood: Absent Friends, which would have featured David Tennant as the Tenth Doctor.

Now, I don’t care about Noel Clarke by any means, but this situation is honestly sad for John Barrowman because it shows that cancel culture spares no victims and leaves no fossil undiscovered. These PR stunts have clearly shown that the spineless people involved with those productions are so concerned with saving face that they are unable to just overlook these transgressions for the sake of fans who actually wanted to see him reprise his role as Captain Jack Harkness. But hey, what do I know? I don’t really care for anything other than the TV series, but it really shows how shameless corporations can be.

Once again, we don’t exactly know when Doctor Who Series 13 will premiere, but if you ask me, I predict that it will premiere in October or November. I’ll see you all again around that time.

#doctor who #thirteenth doctor #thirteenth doctor review

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bonesthebeloved · 4 years

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Writing Master post

AN: Here is all mt Sanders Sides related fic and otherwise so it’s easier to find for all of you. Happy reading!

Non fics/ prompt/ headcanon posts:

Sad Roman headcanons Masterpost

Random Creativitwins headcanons

Fluffy Logince headcanons

Fanfics:

All of these link to AO3 for now, I will link the Tumblr versions soon aswell however that takes a bit more digging.

The absence of a necessity Summary: When Thomas stops lying altogether, Deceit and the other dark sides are quick to notice the effects. But it’s only made clear what kind of effect it truly has when it’s already too late…-or- Deceit disappears and the dark sides all grief in different ways. None of them able to accept that he's really gone

Least favourite to myself Summary: Based on this prompt by transformationloveb:Ok I thought of some extra sad Roman angst for you- Ok, what I’d there’s a video where Thomas has the sides shapeshift as their favorite of all the sides (or, currently revealed sides at least). And the situation goes like this: Thomas: “You all change to your favorite side…NOW!” None of the sides change, cause, their favorite side is themselves……Nobody but Roman. Who shapeshifts into a side of your choosing. Thomas is a bit confused at this, noticing what happened. And decides: “Ok, second favorite side.” Everyone changes this time. But roman doesn’t switch to himself, It’s a different side again. “Third favorite?” Different side. “Fourth favorite?!” Different side. “Fifth?!” Different side. “LEAST FAVORITE?!” And Roman goes back to himself. Enjoy.

Red and green makes royalty Summary: Remus and Roman are in the middle of an argument when suddenly, King creativity shows up. An odd thing. Seeing as the two sides needed for his creation were gawking at him from a few feet away.

4 days and 4 months Summary: After a fight, Roman goes on another quest to the imagination. After four days, Patton goes after him. Just to find that the issues might lay deeper than a simple feud

Absolutely nothing Summary: Work based on the poem 'Absolutely nothing' which appears in 'the perks of being a wallflower'. A story about how somebody can lose their grip on happiness and how their friends don't notice

When showers are no longer helpful Summary:Remus and Patton are in a relationship. Not a happy one but that’s okay. Those only exist in fairytales right?

For even if I'm far away I'll hold you in my heart Summary: King creativity knows he doesn't have much time left and sings one final song for Deceit who's much too young to know what is going on.

You did to me what tsunamis do to homes Summary: Patton and Remus fuse for an experiment. Then they fuse again. Then they stay fused because Patton wants them to. When the others finally find out how bad the fusion is hurting Remus, the damage is already done and they have to deal with the aftermath.

I'll write you bloody murder - Intrulogical Summary: "Did you kill him, Lo?" Remus would convince himself that he had been dreaming it. Starting on a new book and buying him and Logan a puppy for their anniversary. Throwing clothes with the tiniest of blood splatters in the washing machine while acting like he hadn't seen the red splash. Like his husband coming back from work a bit too late and a bit too happy while smelling of fresh blood as he kissed him hello was something normal. Like knowing exactly which veins to hit and how long it would take for the victim to bleed out was part of the job. "I killed all of them."

What I am to you- Platonic Dukeceit Summary: Remus and Dee have been friends for so long that becoming anything else seems absurd to them.

Edward Scissorhands - Platonic Dukexiety Summary: Virgil and Remus have never been close. Could barely be called friends even. Virge wished for them having nothing in common.But when he starts to miss their ranting sessions, he goes to Remus his room to find if they still had some shared interests that Remus hadn't ruined for him.He found out that a shared interest existed. Or, more like, shared coping mechanism. But even for all the times, he wished the other to be dead, he never meant to hope for the other to self-harm. And he never hoped for him to do it for the same reasons either.

The tv-stand - intrulogical Summary: Logan imitating Remus in the bloopers video but they're gay and in love.

Tipsy - Logince Summary: It had started out like all of their unofficial dates had up until now. But this ended up being so much better.-Or-Logan gets tipsy and clings to Roman like a koala bear.

Chasing squirrels and sunspots Summary: Deceit has a sphynx cat. She's a queen and snek boy would die for her.

Sharp edges evened out Summary: Remus gets bullied at school. But luckily he has a very caring brother and two rats to cheer him up.

The last bird flew towards the south - Roceit Summary: Deceit is dead. And the last leaves fall off the trees as poison drips from his fangs and the wounds on his arm. And Roman just holds him. And watched the birds pass by as he weeps. And Deceit is dead.

Loud talking, mushy thoughts Summary: Roman, after being wronged by his 'family' one too many times, goes to live with the dark sides. Que protective instincts firing in both Remus and Deceit.

Everything stays Summary: When Remus finds the weapon that belonged to the original creativity thought to be long lost, he asks his brother for help to retrieve it. Based on a lovely comic by chronophobica on Tumblr and the song everything stays from adventure time.

Loved- Roceit Summary: Roman and Dee are married, soft, and use the same pet names me and my partner use. Also, Dee really wants one of the puppies Remus rescued.

Humming and plush butterflies Summary: Virgil does weird stuff and Deceit records itDeceit has endearing stuff and Virgil knows about it.Logan is very confused by both of these things.-OR-I was soft for the lads and felt like shit so have my very first crackfic.

Complicated- Creativitwins Summary: The twins have a complicated relationship with their father and figure it out through the years. >Tumblr version<

The only member Summary: Roman thought Virgil was in the fuck-Janus club too but realises he is in fact the only member.

AN: I’ll try to keep this updated so my work is easier to find. (Hey @lance-alt , It’s nearing 1:30 am BUT I made it cuz you asked. Hope this helps. :) Love ya bud)

#long post #master post #sander sides fic #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #sanders sides

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starkrogerrs · 5 years

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Keep your body all on me [part 2]

part 1 // also on ao3

a/n: i promise part 3 is all smut (updating next thursday) so keep an eye out! let me know your thoughts on this part? all the love <3

Accepting Steve's offer was probably the best decision that Tony had made in recent times.

Servicing him was a definite upgrade from some of the creeps that he encountered at the Strip club. It wasn't even servicing, it was as if Tony almost was in a relationship with Steve.

Almost.

The first week had been the usual stripping and dancing that he did for his customers, at the end of which, Steve, true to his word, rewarded him handsomely. Steve loved the way he moved, swayed to the most crass songs but Tony enjoyed putting on a show for him. It was honestly liberating.

Steve praised him relentlessly, not empty words but actual heartfelt compliments. Obviously they were meant to encourage him but Tony flushed everytime Steve called him beautiful and gorgeous and baby in his deep but soft voice.

Saying Steve was filthy rich was an understatement. Thanks to him, Tony didn't need to go to the club anymore and he could finally pay off his pending rent.

The terms of the contract were simple, Tony would be Steve's sugar baby. He wasn't to see anyone else except for Steve, but had ever liberty to refuse, if whatever Steve asked of him, didn't feel right. Tony was fine with that, his love life had no momentum anyway.

However, by the time three weeks had passed, their arrangement had turned into something else completely. Tony visited Steve every night, and Steve would fall asleep in his lap or against him as they talked about everything and nothing; got to know each other better. He found himself spending more time at Steve's beautiful mansion than his own home.

Sure, Tony still danced and entertained him at times but there was more cuddling involved. It was as if Steve liked his touch, but Tony knew it was just Steve's nature to be kind and gentle. Tony was, after all, doing him a favor of sorts.

During this Tony often wondered if he should be doing any of this. It didn't exactly feel right but it didn't feel wrong either. Steve was so gentlemanly, Tony could hardly complain. And he'd be shy to admit it, but he actually liked being spoiled by Steve. A fancy suit here, a new laptop there, coupled with handwritten notes made Tony think he was living some fairy tale. Because he surely had the most beautiful Prince Charming there ever was.

Steve asked a lot about Tony's life and shared a few tidbits of his own. Steve was a self-made man and it only made him all the more attractive. It was only a stroke of luck that Tony had chanced upon him.

And then, during the fourth week Steve had kissed him. They had made out in Steve's car, while returning from a trip to the local mall where Steve had promised to buy Tony every thing he wanted.

Tony had no idea what to do after that. They had kissed. They spent so much time together, and Steve was obviously attracted to him. But he'd never asked for more, never told him if they'd like to make this official. Tony was baffled, to say the least, but he couldn't find the courage to talk to Steve and risk their arrangement.

He liked Steve too much to let all of this go. Liked the way Steve's lingering touches set him on fire, liked the way that Steve looked at him, liked the way his kisses and numerous hickies pushed him over the edge.

It was almost too perfect to let go.

"Hey there, sweetheart," Tony purrs, as Steve falls on top of him, snuggling into the crook of Tony's neck and wedging one leg between his own. Steve sucks at the skin there, grazing his teeth against the sensitive area.

"Rough day at work?" Tony asks, breath hitching, and Steve hums in response. His hands trail down Tony's arms, before finally coming to rest on his hips.

"Don't wanna talk about it though," Steve murmurs low, biting and nipping at Tony's skin.

"Did you like my present?"

"I am wearing it right now," Tony says, biting his lip, heart starting to thump inside his chest. Steve draws his head back at that, staring at him as his pupils dilate.

The look sends a shiver down Tony's spine.

"Can I see?" Steve asks ever so softly, but his voice is thick and deep.

Tony nods coyly, a blush creeping up his cheeks. Steve lifts himself off of Tony, but just enough so that he is now hovering above him.

Tony stares directly into his eyes as he lifts his hips and slowly shimmies his pants down his legs. He kicks them off the bed and lays still; his lower half exposed, save for his privates that are covered by the red, silk thong that Steve gifted to him. His heart thumps wildly against his chest, as Steve looks him over, gulping hard.

"You're so gorgeous," Steve breathes, as he sinks to Tony's feet and places a kiss to his ankles. He moves upwards slowly, kissing every inch of skin he can reach and Tony feels like he's floating.

Steve kisses the insides of his thighs, murmuring another compliment and Tony feels himself go red all over. At this point he doesn't know who's doing who a favor.

Steve pushes Tony's t-shirt up his chest, leaving him almost bare, and Tony lets out a tiny whimper.

Steve reaches up to kiss him then, a smile tugging at his lips. "God, I love the sounds you make," he whispers, breath fanning Tony's face.

Tony feels something hot spike inside his belly, a realisation of how bad he wants Steve.

Steve presses their lips together, before turning on his back and pulling Tony on top of him. Tony lifts his shirt over his head, just as Steve sits up so that Tony's now straddling him.

Tony brings Steve in for a kiss again, gripping the back of his head and weaving his fingers through Steve's hair.

He moans as Steve grabs his exposed butt, palming the cheeks and pulling Tony closer to his core.

"Move for me, baby," Steve says and Tony starts moving his hips on command, raking his fingernails down Steve's gorgeous front and leaving red lines in his wake.

Steve moans as Tony grinds, now fully hard from being so exposed he might as well not be wearing the thong. But he is and Steve is still in his pajamas and hell, Tony wants so much more of their skin between them.

Their breaths are getting heavier by the second, as Steve rolls his hips with Tony's, both savoring the friction of their clothed shafts.

Tony moans as Steve latches onto his neck, sucking hard and making him see the brightest of stars. He can feel his heart thump against Steve's, as they move against each other and the exhilaration of it all makes him almost giddy.

Tony wants Steve so bad. He tugs at his hair, pulling him closer, wanting to feel those lips take him whole. He wants Steve's fingers that are splayed on his ass- inside him, until all Tony can see is pitch blackness. He wants to wear Steve's hoodie when he fucks him, wants to hold his hand and watch the fireworks in July. He wants to dance for Steve until he's out of breath, wants Steve to be his and his only.

He wants more, so much more; he wants all of it but he can't fucking have it and-

"Stop," he says, abruptly pushing off of Steve and falling onto the bed. He pulls his knees to his chin and begins to rock.

Steve looks shocked; and in spite of the puzzled expression on his face, his hair a mess, lips shiny and pink and eyes still dark, he looks so fucking sexy.

"What's wrong?" he asks softly, hastily reaching for Tony's hand. He yanks it away.

"What isn't?!" he mutters, feeling an overwhelming urge to cry but bites back the tears.

"What did I do wrong?!"

"You just storm into my life with your stupid proposition and gorgeous face and gentle smile and - and - make me feel all special when I'm just a stupid stripper you found - and- " Tony can hardly breathe, as the words rush out. He can feel the orgasm that had been building curl away from his core, and cold sadness replace it.

"What are we even supposed to be? You treat me like I'm.. all you've ever wanted but you're paying me for all this and I have all of these feelings inside me 'cause y-you're fucking perfect and it's driving me fucking insane!"

Tony doesn't understand why everything inside him is bursting suddenly, but his brain is racing faster than his heart. It's as if the barrier that's been holding in the tide finally breaks.

Steve blinks at him, trying to process the dump of information, before reaching to grab his hand. Tony lets him this time. "If you didn't want this, you could've said so long ago. I wouldn't have forced you-"

"That's not it, you- you- I fucking want this. All of this but- fuck, my head hurts."

Steve squeezes his hand in earnest. He looks so lost, and Tony can tell it's genuine concern that he hears in his voice.

"What do you want? Just tell me," he says gently and the answer is on the tip of Tony's tongue already.

It has been for a while.

"You. I want you."

#i actually wrote a whole series beforehand #stevetony #stony #steve/tony #steve x tony #tony/steve #steve x tony smut #stony au #stony smut #stripper!tony #stony ao3 #usernadine #userastri #my writing

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dontgotothenetherworld · 5 years

Text

love alarm au (nick x reader)

ok so i was watching this kdrama on netflix called love alarm (i think it was based off a webtoon? i could be wrong ahaha i don’t research anything) and i really liked the idea of it so i wanted to write a jlp fic about it lol.

basically, there’s this app called love alarm. if someone within a 10 m radius (i think that’s how big it was… oh well) has romantic feelings for you, and they also have the app, they’ll “ring” you. and vice versa, obviously. i’m changing one key rule; the ringing will only work if both parties have the app opened.

2271 words

cw: femreader. nbjo.

everyone was buzzing about a new app. something called love alarm? you were confused by the whole thing.

”hey! jo!” you yelled to your friend. “do you know what everyone’s talking about?”

”yeah!” jo held up their phone, they were downloading the app. “it tells you if anyone around you has feelings for you! and it tells other people when you have feelings for them. but like, it doesn’t say any names, which is kinda weird, but that’s part of the fun, i guess.”

you gulped. “uh do you know if you can change the settings to not notify other people.”

jo opened the app. “it’s called ringing, apparently, and no.” they glanced over the settings, only finding an option for the volume of ringing.

you looked at their screen. “aww no one likes you.” their phone had a big zero in the middle of the display. “wait no. romantically, no one in a, uh 10 meter radius? that’s specific, whatever, has romantic feelings for you. i obviously like, you, platonically, i mean, i’m your friend! i’m rambling, so i’m gonna stop now.”

jo laughed, but seemed disappointed with their number. “you should download it.”

”uh maybe.” you noticed your other friend walking over, eyes glued to her phone. “frankie!”

frankie’s eyes glance up to see you, then they darted around the crowded hallway.

”hey! jo, y/n, look at this!” she held up her phone, open to love alarm.

”someone here likes you!” you yelled excitedly. “ohmygod i wonder who it is!”

jo looked down at their phone, still at zero.

”i have no idea…” frankie said, but in a way that made it sound like she knew exactly who it was.

the number suddenly jumped up to two, and she looked around again.

”do you have it downloaded yet?” frankie asked.

”i’m not sure if i want to…”

”it’ll be fun, c’mon!” frankie urged.

”well… okay.” you opened up the app store, and started downloading. on the shitty school wifi, it was bound to take forever.

frankie’s brother, nick walked up to her.

”don’t tell me someone has rang yours yet.” frankie groaned.

”no, not yet.” he said, sadly.

”welcome to the club.” said jo. nick and jo high fived.

”look, don’t let this distract from school. you’ve still got classes to go to!” he lectured the three of you.

”okay, mom.” frankie rolled her eyes.

you glanced down at your phone. 50% downloaded, and 2 minutes ‘til first period. “shit! thanks for mentioning it, nick! i gotta go!” you started running to the opposite side of the school. “love y’all, bye!”

you got to your first period, out of breath, just in time to not be counted tardy. your teacher was really liberal with handing out tardies, even a second after the bell rang… good luck.

you checked your phone again, sliding into your seat. 87% downloaded. and a text from frankie! it was a screenshot of her love alarm, still at two, and a message saying “damn i thought u loved me :’(“

you sent back a cowboy emoji.

”phones up, class! it’s pop quiz time!” exclaimed the dictator, i mean your teacher.

a few periods later was lunch. you and frankie had the same lunch period. you were bummed that jo had an earlier lunch, but they were hanging out with nick, and his friend bella, so they were fine.

”show me your phone!” frankie yelled.

you placed it, face up, on the table. “chill out, woman. no one’s rung it yet, anyway.” you had been obsessively checking since second period. nothing. “any updates on the two from earlier?”

”well, when i went to fourth period, it finally went back down to zero, but then back up to one, so would that be three? or is one of them just, like circling around me?” frankie handed you her phone, currently at zero.

”wait, when did the first go to one?”

”when i went to first period.” frankie said nonchalantly.

”how the fuck are you not freaking out right now? i would be hounding these two, potentially three, people down!”

”well, if they really want me to know, they would tell me. until then, i will enjoy the ego boost that the ringing has given me.”

”that’s so responsible. i’m suspicious.” you said.

”i know! i am responsible! also, i’ve only been opening the app in crowded places.”

”are you okay? this doesn’t sound like the frankie i know.”

you were going to question your friend more, but your love alarm suddenly went off.

1 person within 10 m has feelings for you.

you whipped your head around, frantically. “who could it be?”

”y/n, it’s back down to zero.” frankie updated.

”so, like, they just walked in and out of the circle, right?” you cursed the crowded lunchroom, that you were in the center of.

”probably.” frankie took a sip of water. “oh! did you hear about jamie and alyssa?”

”no, what happened?”

”alyssa wanted jamie to ring her love alarm, but he couldn’t! and then he rang violet’s!”

”what? how do they know?”

”alyssa made jamie walk in and out of violet’s circle, and it rang every time he stepped into it.”

”they broke up, right?” you asked.

”obviously. but violet doesn’t have feelings for jamie, so they’re not together either.”

”this app is going to ruin so many lives.” you muttered.

”well, it was bound to happen eventually.” frankie shrugged.

you met up with frankie and jo, just after school ended. well, more like they met up with you. you had gone right up the bell with your test, and when you got out of the class, your friends were standing right there. both on their phones, open to love alarm.

jo stared distastefully at the zero, and frankie stared apathetically at the one.

you opened the app, but before it could load, nick ran over, startling you.

”frankie, look.” he held out his phone. it had a one on it.

”i’m kicking you out of the club.” jo said darkly.

”any ideas who it is?” asked frankie.

you slipped your phone into your back pocket, without looking at love alarm. you knew exactly who rang nick’s love alarm. you just didn’t want to know if he rang yours back.

your crush on nick had started back in freshman year, when you started hanging out with frankie. you would occasionally hang out at her house, and sometimes nick was around. and you just found nick so unbelievably attractive.

you couldn’t believe it when, in your sophmore year, you and nick had the same seventh period. he sat behind you in class, and was always making jokes. he even offered to drive you home from school. granted, frankie was also in the car, but it still seemed kinda romantic to you.

and you had fallen in love with him along the way.

but this year, you had no classes together. and yeah, you sent memes to each other pretty frequently, but you didn’t talk, really. you still had feelings for him, but you thought that if there was any chance that he did too, it had gone away.

you didn’t want to be disappointed, so you didn’t check your love alarm.

”y/n, has anyone rung yours yet?” asked nick. but maybe not…

”uh, no. i mean, yeah. briefly at lunch, but i might not be remembering that correctly.”

”can we stop talking about this shit? it’s fucking stupid. and who’s to say it’s in any way accurate?” jo spat.

”it’s alright, jo. not everyone has downloaded the app yet.” you tried to comfort them.

they walked off.

”well…” said frankie.

”uh, they drove me to school today, so can either of you…” you addressed the siblings.

”yeah, i got it.” said nick.

frankie laughed, “why do you want to drive my friend home?”

”she’s my friend too. jeez frankie stop being so weird.” he scoffed.

”eh whatever. y/n always complains about the mess in my car anyway.” said frankie.

”just pick the stuff off the floor and put it in a trash can! you can even put a trash bag in the car! it’s not that hard, frankie!” you exclaimed.

”case and point.” she started walking to the library. “i’ll see you back at home, nick.”

”see ya.” he said. you waved at her. you and nick began walking. “so, y/n, my friend, how has life been treating you lately?”

”like a sucker punch to the gut, my friend. i have had a test, quiz, or pop quiz in every single class to day, apart from lunch, where i got clickbaited that someone likes me.”

”ouch!” hey held open the door for you. “did you just use “clickbaited” in an irl circumstance?”

”eh technicalities.” you laughed.

nick shook his head. “anyway, do you know how you did on any of the tests/ quizzes/ pop quizzes/ forms of torture?”

”ugh no. but the suspense is killing me.”

”speaking of suspense, do you have any idea who, briefly, rang your love alarm?” nick asked, as he opened the driver’s side door.

you hopped into the passenger’s seat. “nada. you?”

nick started the engine. “i have an idea.” you felt your heart just flatten itself against your chest. what does that mean??

”care to share?” you tried to say nonchalantly, but it probably came across very chalantly. which nick would remind you, is not a real word.

”no. i’d like to be more sure of my guess first.”

”see, when you say logical and responsible things about love alarm, it makes sense. when frankie does, i worry for the emotional safety of the two, potentially three people who rang her alarm today.”

nick laughed, “that makes sense. do you know who rang hers?”

”why, so you can beat them up? that’s what big brothers are supposed to do, right?”

”no, big brothers are supposed to be an omnipresent watchful eye.” it took you a second to get the reference, but you laughed when you did. “but really, no. more like i want to warn them.”

”i have a hunch on who one of them is, but i will follow in your infinite wisdom and not say until i’m more sure.”

”i wouldn’t call my wisdom infinite...” said nick.

you were tempted to open love alarm, but that would be stupid. nick’s phone wasn’t even on right now.

you fell into an awkward silence, and you didn’t know how to break it.

”so, uh. y/n, i’m sorry that i kinda stopped talking to you.” nick said, a couple stop signs later.

”i am also bad at maintaining friendships, so don’t worry.” why the fuck did you say friendships.

”yeah… uh i want to talk to you more. not just send each other tik toks, y’know?”

”tik toks are an excellent form of communication, i have no idea what you’re talking about. but yes.”

”okay, that’s good. by the way, when you’re scrolling on that app, do you just send me every video that says to send to your friends?”

you laughed, “no. sometimes i send you the ones that say send to your enemies. and i send you other stuff!”

”i know, i know! but like, do you send them to like frankie and jo and stuff?”

”um… sometimes? i definitely send the ones that call you ugly to frankie, and i usually send the super mega wholesome ones to jo, but neither of them ever send tik toks back, so i don’t think they really appreciate them.” nick always sends tik toks back. you’ve usually already seen them, but it’s the thought that counts.

nick turned into your neighborhood. “do you think the love alarm actually works?”

”what do you mean?” you asked.

”what if it’s just random. like the different accounts are randomly paired to go off when they’re near each other.”

you thought it over. “i don’t know. that could be the case, but there’s really only one way to find out for sure.” your heart was nearly beating out of your chest.

”do you mean… trying to ring someone’s that you like?” nick asked, slowing to a stop in front of your house.

you shrugged, “i guess.”

nick sat in silence, looking straight ahead, probably thinking deeply about something.

you picked up your backpack, and started getting out of his car.

”wait, y/n!” nick scrambled to dig his phone out of his pocket.

you turned around to face him. “uh what?”

he took a deep breath, “can you open love alarm?” he had his phone already opened to the app.

not knowing what else to do, you obliged. every second that it took for the app to load felt like a thousand hours.

1 person within 10 m has feelings for you.

”i ran through the cafeteria earlier, by the way.” said nick.

you looked up, to see nick. he held his phone facing you. it said the same thing. you pinched yourself, to make sure you weren’t dreaming. you weren’t.

”wh- wait really?” you were dumbfounded.

nick smiled. “the app works. it really works.” he gazed into your eyes, hopefully not noticing your mouth, which was still hanging wide open.

you felt frozen on the spot, and this was probably getting awkward. but nick! smart, kind, beautiful nick! he liked you. he really did.

he hopped out of his car and ran around to stand in front of you. he placed his hands in yours, still smiling.

”can i kiss you?” you asked.

”yes.” he said. and you did. you kissed the boy who you liked, and who liked you.

@meangirlsx @meangirlmurphy @eliza-is-confused @boredomimi

#jagged little pill #jagged little pill musical #jagged little pill braodway #jlp #jlp musical #jagged little pill fanfiction #jlp fanfiction #nick healy #nick x reader #nick healy x reader #fic #love alarm au #jo #jo jagged little pill #jo jlp #frankie healy

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writersrealmbts · 6 years

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Protect Them-Hybrid AU: Part 4

Description: Safe with Me Sequel! You work two days a week teaching kids the joys of learning and reading, your favorites being the triplets. When the triplet’s adopted older brother is the one that starts picking them up, you’re not sure what life just handed you but you’re pretty sure it’s just another little slice of heaven. Hoseok x Reader.

Warnings: I don’t even know, if you do, let me know and I’ll change the warnings.

Posted: 1/15/2019

Tags: Hybrid!au, hybrid!Hoseok, Safe With Me Sequel

Angst with fluffs: 2,004 words

A/N: Part 4, after what seems like forever, I’m posting the fourth part. I hope you like it. I’m working on the fifth part and I’ll finish that just as soon as I finish Namjoon’s part of Pack Trials (it’s at about 4.5k right now and I’m aiming for 6k like the others), a valentines day post is also in the works, and apparently that Taehyung post is expected to be a series so...we’ll see if there’s actually going to be another part to it. Actually, I have a lot in the works. I’m updating all of the masterposts and putting in images and stuff. Let me know what you think of both this and the updated masterposts (which should be updated in the next couple days).

Life was playing a cruel prank on you. Sure, you couldn’t see Hoseok to pine after or fall in love with him. You could just smell and hear him. You could almost taste him. He assaulted your remaining senses, slowly driving you closer to the insanity of just telling him. But then you’d have to try and interpret the silence. You would be suffocated by the tension and awkwardness that even the triplets couldn’t diffuse. No. It was better if those feelings didn’t exist. That you didn’t find him more attractive than any man you had ever dated or met. That he didn’t strike you as one of the most compassionate and gentle men in existence. And he was absolutely oblivious to what you felt. Which was how it should be. Especially after you heard Minsu asking about Hoseok's girlfriend. The pup sounded like he would like to throw said girlfriend off a relatively tall building. You didn’t hear the response, but a pouty Minsu was soon cuddling up to your side and faltering as he worked on his reading with you. He sounded close to crying when he first came in, gasping little breaths and voice wobbling, but he was calmer now. More focused on the book. “Min…ah. Sorry, Y/n. I told them not to bug you.” Hoseok’s voice broke the silence that had fallen as Minsu wrote out a word that you had just taught him. “I’m bored out of my mind,” You laughed softly. “I’m just helping Minsu work on his reading. He’s not bugging me at all.” “I’m being good, Hyung. I asked first,” Min-min squeaked. “Okay…I have to call my…friend…” Minsu breathed in a slight growl, almost unheard by you even though he was in your arms and your hearing was somewhat stronger due to the loss of sight. You bit your lip, finding his head and stroking his hair before rubbing his ears, hoping to calm him. “Okay. Did you want to send Nari and Kaemon in here so that you know where they are while you’re making the call?” “I don’t think so. They’re working together on some addition and subtraction equations and my call shouldn’t take that long. Do you need anything?” You shook your head. “Not as long as my water glass is full.” You heard him come in and take it. “It’s almost empty. I’ll refill it and bring it back. Minsu, we will talk about what happened earlier once you finish that book.” There was a slight whine from the boy beside you. “Don’t wanna.” “Too bad. I’ll be right back.” Hoseok’s steps retreated. Minsu huffed and cuddled a little closer. “I don’t like her. She smells funny. She doesn’t smile at us for real. She wrinkles her nose whenever eomma is around. Why can’t you be with him?” You took a deep breath. “Minsu, don’t say things like that. You’ll understand when you’re older.” You stroked his ears, then placed a small kiss on his head. “Your brother and I just met. Minsu sniffed. “So? You’re the best. You and mommy are friends. And Hobi-hyung’s tail gets bushier when he sees you. You get all pink and smiley when he’s around too, like Jiminie-hyung when he’s around Ariel-noona. Or mommy when she’s around daddy. Or Aunt Becca around Uncle Mike.” “Oh, Min…” You whispered. “I wish it were that simple.” You pulled him into your arms. “Now, let’s finish the book.” He sighed and kept reading, some of the words garbled and his frustration mounting. He stopped, taking deep breaths to calm down while you stroked his ears. “It’s hard. Why is it hard? The letters keep changing.” You hummed thoughtfully. “It’s okay, Minsu. Just take your time. We’ll work through it all. It’s just going to take patience and perseverance.” He flipped the page. “Okay, y/n. You’ll help me, right?” “As much as I can,” You confirmed, leaning over to nuzzle his head lovingly. His hair and fur were soft and silky, and he smelled nice. He made a soft sound of contentment, then you felt him move so he could sniff at your bandages. Then climbed up to kiss your cheek and then play with your hair. “Can we be done for now?” “Your brother will be back soon, so yes.” He ran his small fingers through your hair, humming slightly. “Hobi-hyung is going to be our teacher. When Mommy can’t do it anymore. He’s got a degree and everything.” “Really? Are you excited?” “Yeah, he’s the coolest. He helped me learn the alphabet. He was gone for long time because of school. We missed him lots and lots. He visited lots, too. If he’s teaching us, then he’ll be staying.” He went still for a moment. “Right?” He sounded so worried. “I’m staying, Min-min,” Hoseok said. You flinched, startled by his sudden reappearance, then winced as Minsu plopped back down on the bed in his own surprise. “Promise?” Minsu finally asked. “Promise, now, go wait for me in your room while I check y/n’s bandages.” He walked in and scooped the boy up, earning a squeal, then you heard smaller footsteps rushing out of your room. The bed sunk as Hoseok sat on the edge. There was a slight tug on the book in your hands and you let go. “I’ll put that away.” You nodded a little. “He can only read for a little while before he gets frustrated. Especially when he’s already upset. Normally I’m able to help him through the words. Help him keep his place.” You splayed your fingers across the blanket, shivering. He sighed. “I…I know it’s frustrating. The doctors said it was temporary, though.” You didn’t have a response to that. You took a deep breath while he examined your wounds, unwrapping the bandages and applying the medicine. “Minsu is…headstrong. Passionate. He gets some ideas in his head and they just don’t come out.” He was quiet for a moment. “I suppose he talked about her.” “Her…your girlfriend? The one he dislikes? He may have mentioned something about her.” You smiled a little. “Kids can be a little…dramatic.” “She’s not my girlfriend,” He groaned. “She was the other student teacher at the school I was interning at for my last semester and we were carpooling. We stopped by here a couple times for dinner because we were both broke college students and Emma was more than happy to feed us. Because Jimin brought Ariel around, Minsu just sort of assumed it was the same thing and it isn’t. We didn’t get along like that. But explaining that to a five-year-old is hard.” “It is,” You agreed, trying not to let your happiness show. He didn’t have a girlfriend. “I wouldn’t dare bring a girlfriend around them unless I knew she was the one. They’re too important to me. I have too many goals to worry about a girlfriend right now.” Your heart dropped again, and suddenly you felt nauseous. You wanted to blame the pain medicine, but you weren’t even sure that you could speak. “Hey, you okay? You look pretty pale all of a sudden,” He said, feeling your forehead. His hand was warm against your skin. “Mmm, stomach,” You breathed, trying to breath evenly so that you wouldn’t puke on him. That definitely wouldn’t help your case. “How bad?” You hummed uncertainly, uncomfortable with the whole situation all of a sudden. “I think I’m okay…” “You feel clammy,” He murmured. “Let’s get you to the bathroom so I can at least change the bandages on your leg.” You nodded, pushing yourself up a bit so that he could pick you up more easily. You weren’t allowed to even walk using crutches. As it was, he had to be very careful lifting you and had actually spent an hour learning the proper procedure to take care of you from the nurses at the hospital, which only made you feel guilty. He lifted you gently, pulling your body against his. He was warm and his presence comforting while also off-putting. “Hey, relax, I’ve got you. It’s okay.” His tone betrayed that he was smiling. “It’s not okay. I feel useless. I knew it wouldn’t be easy but it’s...I can’t even help them read. I just have to guess what they’re trying to read or tell them to spell it out to me. I can’t get to the bathroom on my own. I jump at the slightest noises and the pain medicine makes my thoughts race.” You closed your eyes. “It’s not okay. If I had just been a little faster—” “Hey,” He cut you off. “That thing about your thoughts racing, I believe it. I told you, it’s going to be okay. We volunteered for this, y/n. We volunteered to take care of you. I volunteered to take care of you. I knew what it would entail. I can see your injuries…” He choked slightly. “I carried you to the hospital. Do you understand what that does to hybrids?” “Not exactly,” You answered, breathing shakily. He carefully set you down, guiding your injured leg carefully to a spot that was elevated. He sighed. “Not only would the kids have panicked, gone almost feral, but I would have to. Seeing you get injured, carrying you to the hospital as you bled on me…my instincts were going crazy in the hospital. I could barely let you out of my sight. I have this need to take care of you and protect you, and I can’t fight it. I can’t change how the medicine affects you, but I can talk to you when your mind starts racing. Don’t worry about me minding taking care of you or being useless. I need to do this. If I had grabbed you faster, if I had pulled you up the moment I caught hold of you, or found a way to stretch down farther so you wouldn’t have stepped on that new spot, if, if, if—there are a hundred thousand different things that in retrospect could have been done differently…but many of those would have resulted in your death. We both chose to protect them. The kids. My baby siblings. You didn’t have to help them.” “Of course I did,” You argued weakly, feeling sick. You grabbed his arm before he continued applying the medicine to your leg. His other hand came to your face. “Stomach?” You nodded, fighting against it. You did not want to throw up in front of him. You probably already looked like a mess, your hair felt nasty to the touch, but because of your stitches you couldn’t wash it. Not to mention you couldn’t see to wash it. He felt your forehead, his skin cool against yours. “I think you might have a bit of a fever…” He sounded concerned, like he was looking away from you, but he still stayed right beside you. You just shrugged a bit, too busy trying not to throw up to give him a real response. He sighed softly, probably thinking it was inaudible, and guilt rained on you again. He kissed your forehead beside the bandage. “Yeah. You feel too warm. Are you feeling warm or cold?” “Warm,” You managed to choke out. He nodded, humming softly. “Can you sit up on your own for a second while I get a thermometer?” You nodded, bracing yourself. He went a couple steps away and opened something. You could hear him rummaging around, then the quiet sound of satisfaction when he found it and then he was coming back to you… Nausea overwhelmed you and you threw up into the tub. He quickly caught you before you could fall and hurt your leg more, pulling your hair away from your face and gently rubbing your back. “It’s okay, don’t worry about it,” He murmured when tears started sneaking down your face. “Shh, it’s okay.”

Masterlist. Part 3. Part 5. Masterpost.

Tagged: @jiminslye

#bts #bts fic #hybrid!bts #jung hoseok #hybrid!hoseok #reader x jhope #hoseok x reader #protectthemhybridfic #safewithmehybridfic #safewithmesequel #safewithme stuff #The Sanctuary Series Hybrid AU #kim seokjin #dad!seokjin #hybrid!seokjin

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jaimistoryteller · 7 years

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Hi Folks

*waves* hello new peeps, I’ve recently followed, and been followed by some writing blogs, so maybe I should do a post about what I write and what this blog is about.

Fanfiction: lots of it and varied fandoms, I have an entire page dedicated to the armada, which I will probably need to update sooner than later, cause it evolves more often than I care to think about too closely. Here’s my armada, AO3 or Tumblr AO3 Fanfic list and Prompt Response

Commissions & Ghost Writing: commissions for fics within the legal allowable limits and ghost writing for short stories, I don’t have a lot of limits but I have a few.

Novels: I have 4 (thank you @merflk for reminding me of the fourth)

Shadow’s Sight:

Magic is a very large part of Tzila’s life, has been for years, and now she plans to use that magic to help her family no matter what the cost.

Definitely not the best summary but hey, it’s what I got so far, it will probably change as I actually get around to writing this. Tzila (primary character) is sex-positive ace. Caralyn (main character), Tzila’s sister, has physical disabilities, and while being partly changed into a vampire stops them from getting worse or developing new ones, it doesn’t get rid of the ones she already has, she still has a difficult time, often painful time walking, and uses a wheelchair when she leaves her home.

Converging Lives Verse:

Triad & Soulmate universe where people with soulmarks develop their matched marks mostly in their teens or young adult years.

Here’s where the math get’s weird – I said 4 novels I am working on. I wrote the first three Converging Lives as one long novel that will be broken into different tales, but I still only count it as a single unit until the break down is done. The same with the second trilogy. I am writing it as a single book, to be broken down after. Which makes 3 of the 4

1. Unexpected Meeting:

After sailing accident kills his parental triad, Jon is sent to live with his biological father. He never expected to meet his first soulmate there.

Luc never expected to wake up after a fall that should have killed him. He doesn’t quite know what to make of the teenager taking care of him during his recovery and refusing to be intimidated.

2. Finding Home:

Now that Luc knows that Jon’s his soulmate, he asks the younger man to move in with him. More exactly to buy a house with him. It’s not as easy as it sounds.

After they’ve managed to settle, they decide to do some traveling. After all, what’s the use having the resources to do so and never using them? Besides, Luc wants to show Jon some of the places he’s enjoyed over the years.

Sometimes though, Luc thinks of the soulmate he lost, and wonders if there will be ever be a right time to try and reconnect with Isaac.

3. Connection:

Isaac has spent twelve years thinking that Luc is dead. It’s reasonable to think he’s losing his mind when he sees Luc when he’s on a mission. It’s impossible that his soulmate is still alive. He killed him during a mission after learning he was betrayed.

Jon thinks it’s time to meet Isaac. He knows more about what happened to his soulmates than they do, or at least, he knows more about what happened back then than they do.

Luc thinks it’s time he confronts the past. They betrayal of his first soulmate still stings but he needs to deal with it. It’s the only real way to move forward.

The only question is: how will it turn out when everything is finally in the open?

4. Unexpected Fate:

If someone would have told Sparks that he’d end up back in Russia and in charge of his family, he would have suggested they’re insane. Except, that’s exactly what happened. It’s a really good thing his ex and her brother doesn’t mind him asking for help, because he definitely needs it!

Iov always knew that he’d spend the rest of his life working off the mistake he made. He just never expected it to be by working to help rebuild a crime family into something new, something different. It’s hard to help plan for so many children and young adults when he’s not actually allowed near them.

5. Building Lives

Sitara wants to teach, loves the idea of sharing knowledge. She’s not sure what draws her to apply for a job in Russia, only that she sees an ad for it, and it calls to her. Never would she have guessed that it would lead to her meeting one of her soulmates.

Emere has a case of wanderlust. According to her grandmother, her wanderlust is a direct result of the soulmate draw, pulling her ever towards where they are. Particularly the one who will need her most. She looks forward to the day she meets them.

Pavel’s worried about his best friend. In his opinion Iov needs to take a day off, though mentioning that causes panic, so he tries other ways to make sure his best friend gets to relax occasionally. Of course, the fact he meets his first soulmate, Emere, is a blessing he didn’t expect.

Iov and Sparks are rather busy between the move into the new Balakhnov building, the family, and all the new people around. Of course it stir things up further.

6. Slow Future

Nazreen gets married because it’s what her family thinks is a good idea, only things go horribly wrong. She doesn’t know how to get out of a bad situation with her daughter, but she has to, for her daughter’s sake.

Iov’s life has mostly settled. He lives in constant terror that he will lose everything at a moments notice. He doesn’t want to lose everything, not when he has more now than ever before.

Unexpected events start to form a new future that is unexpected.

My fourth novel is This Changes Everything

Alex presents as an omega even though all tests say he is going to be a beta. It causes his father to abandon him in the middle of London. Life is not simple living on the streets.

Then he runs into a cop who ends up changing his life in ways he never imaged, all of which are for the better.

Suddenly he has a new family and a new chance at a future.

ABO book based on a fanfic I wrote, but after checking Amazon and B&N I was surprised to see it was something also on the market, and I figured, why not try? That’s the fourth

I post random stuff about all of it, and I tag accordingly, usually by universe or challenge. I also do art, tagged under Jaimi’s Art

Writing advice and helpful stuff is tagged under Writing Useful. Writing prompts and challenges tend to be under Writing Prompts.

I have a secondary blog where I reblog everything to, often times forgetting to tag, but there is a lot of lovely pictures to be had there. NSFW happens.

Graygender, ace, demi-panromantic. Use any pronouns you are comfortable with for me, I don’t have a preference.

Be welcome! Feel free to stop in my inbox at any time,

Jaimi

#hellos #Everyone is Welcome #long post

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apathetic-revenant · 7 years

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hey guys, I don’t know when exactly the next By the Skin of Your Teeth update is going to be. soon, I hope! I’m working on it and I have a good idea where things are going for our sleep-deprived heroes but my concentration’s been kinda shot the past few days so it’s going a bit slower than usual.

...plus that last update was so long I think it kinda wore me out a little. which I realize I have no one to blame for but myself.

honestly the response I’ve gotten to it is so amazing and I love you all, you guys are great. I love writing and I love to share my writing with people but I’m also really shy and I have a hard time doing that, so people responding enthusiastically to it is like, the best possible thing. seriously.

the whole ‘being really shy’ thing makes this next part hard, but: here is the other stuff that I’ve posted on here so far, if you want something to read while you wait for more angst but (understandably) do not wish to comb through my tag mess. most of it’s not fanfic and I realize the fanfic is probably what you have come here for, so you may well not be interested and hey, that’s fine! but at the least it’ll also work as an index for all the scattered fic parts until the AO3 page goes up, so, uh, there’s that too.

what is fanfic (or close)

now you see it all 1 2 3 : basically, the Weirdmageddon afterparty.

how proud I’d be 1 2 3 : instead of taking the Stanleymobile after getting kicked out, Stan takes the Stan o’War, and things go differently.

by the skin of your teeth: 1 2 3 4 5 : natch.

literally just a weird unfinished shred of Harry Potter fanfic I don’t even remember why I thought it was a good idea to post this but here it is

some snarky recaps of the first 3 Doctor Who serials left over from a project that, predictably, never really went anywhere

what’s not fanfic:

colors after dark: a short piece featuring supernatural kind-of-detectives Mal and Siobhan ruminating over the Fourth of July.

the rough project 1 2 3 4 5 : so called because it is too rough to even have a name, a pretty much unedited and unplanned...serial...thing?...mostly involving, so far, a couple of errant magicians running amok in a library. currently on pause because reasons.

and finally some writing prompts:

The human race is extinct except for a few people made immortal through various means. (Religion, magic, science, etc.) These immortals are sitting around talking after the end of the world.

A child is kidnapped. Outraged, the monsters that live under their bed and in their closet vow to find them. (part 2)

Your tour guide is Virgil from Dante’s Inferno, but instead of the nine circles of hell, he tours you through nine really weird Tumblr blogs.

Hades and Persephone’s roles are reversed. The world enjoys an endless summer, and half the year no one dies. The death season is almost upon us.

#scribulations #*throws writing into the void and runs for cover*

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foodcourtdetective · 7 years

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The Connor Project: American Tour (Chapter One)

Warnings: Swearing Word Count: 1,461 Summary: Girl goes to the mall. Girl reconnects with high school friend during suicide awareness concert. High school friend offers girl a spot on the tour bus. Girl agrees because of cute boy. Cute boy has a girlfriend. Five young adults drive through the US. What could go wrong? Hopefully the author will come up with a better summary for the next chapter. Established Evan/Zoe. Leading up to Evan/OC.

Chapter 1: Let’s Go to the Mall

It was a simple mission: Get in. Get a black shirt. Get out. Claire sighed, frustrated with herself for spilling pasta sauce on yet another collared shirt at work. The Olive Garden had an easier uniform than most and while the stains certainly didn’t show, Claire was too exhausted to do laundry every night (especially since the laundry room in her apartment building was a bit spooky). Having a fourth shirt in the rotation would lengthen the time between washes and maybe give Claire that extra amount of sleep needed to keep herself from being as clumsy as she was.

But like many of Claire’s projects and day-to-day activities, she soon faced distractions. For example, her best friend from her old high school kept texting her.

Al the Pal: Heyyy Claire! You’re never gonna guess where I am! Al the Pal: Okay, since you’re not responding, I’m assuming it’s taking you some thought figure it out. Al the Pal: Okay, you better not have blocked me after the Jello incident of 2013. Al the Pal: Girl. Al the Pal: I’M IN YOUR TOWN! Text me ASAP.

God, she really hadn’t changed since the last time they were together. Claire loved Al, but life had gotten too hard and she didn’t want to hold back her Ivy League bound friend. They still stayed in touch, but it was usually the Instagram comment or DM message here or there. It was rare to get a text, never mind several, unless Al was really excited about something. But why would she be here in September? Doesn’t she have college orientation? Come to think of it, Claire hadn’t had the time to check Facebook or anything that would update her on her friend’s future. She made a mental note to log on later. Spotting the J. C. Penney, Claire picked up the pace to the store. Maybe if I make this trip quick enough, I can grab some food from the food court.

Thirteen minutes later, Claire was making her way to the food court. But strangely, the relatively half-full mall was packed around a decent-sized stage set up right next to the food court. It was hard to see through the crowd, but it sounded like a Christian teen group singing. Claire tried to push through to the food court on the right, but soon stopped when she heard a familiar voice.

“There’s a place where we don’t have to feel unknown. And every time that you call out, you’re a little less alone!” Almost immediately as she turned her head toward the stage. There was her childhood friend Alana Beck looking as passionate as usual on the electric keyboard. Claire then started taking in the other members on stage. Was that Jared Kleinman on the drums, the kid who once got kicked out of her freshman health class for refusing to refer to the male genitalia as its scientific term (“what do you mean I’m not allowed to refer to the penis as a sex sword?). She recognized Zoe Murphy playing the electric violin, a step up from their days together in the middle school band with plastic instruments. There were a few other instrument players who looked older; Claire didn’t think they went to her old school. They looked like actual band members. Inevitably, the blonde’s eyes drifted to the boy center stage, gripping the microphone tightly like he was trying not to lose his balance in a subway car. He looked familiar; the sweaty upper lip, the tight nervous smile, the blue striped shirt. She couldn’t put a name or voice to the face though. His voice was rather beautiful though as he sang the last line.

“You will be found.” His words gave Claire a genius idea. With a mischievous smile, she took her phone out of her back pocket and finally responded to Alana’s texts, the crowd roaring around her.

Claire Bear: Heyyy Alana! You’re never gonna guess where I am! Claire Bear: I’ll give you a hint: You have been found. As she tried to make her way towards the front of the stage, the cheering audience resisted, trying to nudge or elbow her back. Claire persevered, shoving her way to the side of the stage. Before she could call for Alana, her foot caught on something, possibly the wheel of the nearby Annie’s cart. The clumsy blonde began hurtling towards the ground when someone caught her, their hands rough on her. As they helped her back to her feet, Claire soon recognized the smirk and nearly laughed out loud.

“Woah there, M’lady. Looks like you were falling for me for a second there!” Almost immediately, Alana rushed over to Claire’s rescue, rolling her eyes.

“Jared! Don’t hit on her. She’s not gonna react like your little fan girls!” Jared took a step back to get a good look at the blonde, nodding in approval.

“Well, well, if it isn’t Dossett the Vet? Where did you run off to last year? I was gonna ask you to the Prom!” Claire laughed at the old nickname, shrugging off the strong emotions associated with the events of last year.

“You know I would have said no. Besides, Al here was a more organized date anyhow!” At the mention of her nickname, Alana reached over to hug her old friend.

“Where have you been? I’ve texted you several hundred times, Claire!” The blonde shrugged, ruffling Alana’s hair playfully.

“I work at the Olive Garden now. It’s a very demanding job. I work forty hours a week plus overtime to earn minimum wage plus tips!” Alana gasped, suddenly coming up with a better idea.

“Zo and Evan! Get your lovebird asses over here!” Sure enough, Zoe and the lead singer wandered over holding hands. When he saw you, his grip slipped.

“S-sorry, sweaty-“

“I know babe, your hands get sweaty,” Zoe quipped, her attention hyper-focused on the other three.

“So you know that while I’ve been the sole soul keeping the website for the Connor Project up to date and everything, we’ve been having some issues with our social media pages run by our very own Jared Kleinman,” Alana began as everyone looked pointedly at the aforementioned Jewish dork. He shrugged.

“Hey, you wanted a cool Instagram, right? The meme machine is still on it!” He finger-gunned, but only Evan half-hearted gestured back. Alana rolled her eyes, continuing her speech.

“Anyway, so Jared and I could really use some help on the online front. We could spend hours and days posting flyers, reading applications, interviewing strangers. Or… we could vote to accept Claire Dossett, high school friend of most of us, into the ranks effective immediately?” The applicant in question’s mouth dropped a little, shocked at the sudden impulse of her usually methodical best friend.

“Alana’s right as usual. I’m cool with Claire,” Zoe announced, flashing a grin to finally acknowledge the blonde band geek she remembered.

“Only if majority rules,” Jared decided with a smug smile, glancing over at his hopelessly awkward and anxious male companion. As Evan began sweating and stuttering, Claire instantly remembered Evan Hansen, the sweet but terribly anxious boy in her public speaking class junior year. Still cute.

“I v-vote with Zoe. She can s-stay, stay here with us! That is if-f-f she wants to? She never exactly s-s-said yes, so I guess it’s up t-t-to her? I mean, I want her to s-stay. Not in a weird way… just in a not mean way because I think you’d be a good f-fit for the job?” Evan covered his face with his hands, clearly embarrassed. Claire’s heart went out to him; he was clearly struggling. Everyone turned their attention to the blonde, anticipating her decision. She smiled at all of them gently, sighing in disbelief before she took out her cell phone.

“I guess I’ll call my manager right now and tell him I’m not doing my 10-7 shift tomorrow!” Alana clapped giddily, immediately drawing up plans for the new sleeping arrangements. Zoe and Jared scampered off to help the band put the equipment away, Zoe patting Jared on the back as he muttered: “but now the boy-girl ratio is uneven.” As Claire dialed the memorized phone number one last time and pressed the phone to her ear, she caught Evan’s eye. His lips parted for a moment until his brain caught up with him, forcing his eyes to her all-black sneakers. The blonde quietly smiled to herself; perhaps this spontaneous life decision would work out after all. But as her boss answered the phone, it suddenly hit her: am I gonna get paid for this?

(Author’s Note: Let me know if I should keep this going. I tagged the two people who liked the post I made about this fic. If you guys want off, just hit me a DM, I won’t take it too personally. I was thinking of also publishing on AO3 once my invitation is processed. The link will be put here x.)

Tag List:

@thequeenhaslanded, @liyahisdabomb

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hutcherette · 7 years

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Flowers in the Window Chapter 4

Wow only me 5 months to update, sorry! Life & work stuff just took over all my time. I will try not to be so long in my next update. As always many thanks to my lovely beta and friend Heidi. She had a big job on her hands, as this chapter is rather long, so ta very much dude! :D xx Hope you all enjoy this chapter and thank you for reading and for the lovely comments. Previous chapters can be found on A03

http://archiveofourown.org/works/7594528?view_full_work=true

"It'll have to do" Katniss muttered under breath after she had re-braided her hair for the fourth time that morning. She took a deep breath in, breathed out hard and studied her reflection in the small mirror above the basin in the female staff bathroom. 8:47 am. Nearly time to roll. Toying idly with the end of her braid she pulled out her go-to 'I'm fabulous' perfect nude lipstick for yet another coat. Letting out a resigned sigh she grabbed her handbag and opened the door quickly.

"Pull yourself together Everdeen" She chastised herself with a heated whisper.

Unfortunately in the heat of scolding herself she hadn't noticed Johanna racing in the door. Her black duster coat whipping behind her.

"Woah there, Nelly! Are you trying to make my hangover worse than it already is?!" Jo gestured to her head, which Katniss was guessing, was pounding.

"Morning to you too Jo" she smiled patting the side of Jo's head sympathetically.

"Wild night?!"

"Wet n wild times K, all the way" Jo drawled winking at her friend. Katniss wrinkled her nose, turned back to the mirror and started toying again with her braid.

"So things good with Thresh still?"

"That man has moves that out-sex even Gloss" Jo replied pulling out her black kajal liner from her bag with the smirk of a cat who had recently had her fair share of top quality cream.

"Wow; even Gloss the man-whore extraordinaire? Well I guess it must be love," Katniss teased.

"Please." Jo rolled her eyes & applied a heavy line of sooty black in her lower waterline.

"Why are you in here anyway, K? It's almost bell and you don't fuss or primp your hair or makeup. Ever. If I didn't know you better I'd say you were avoiding the soon to be love of your life… or at least a couple of months of good lays."

Exasperated, Katniss grabbed her handbag and started fidgeting with the zipper.

"I’m not avoiding him...I just...look...urgh we talked about this yesterday Jo, it's just all so...awkward."

"Oh come on K, it's only awkward because you're turning it into some dumb high school drama á la Delly! It's very simple. He likes you, you like him. You had some weird serendipitous meeting years ago where you hit it off with each other, so? Who cares? Get in his pants already!"

"Always boils down to one thing with you doesn't it Johanna?" Katniss snapped. Johanna glared at her from the mirror.

"Harsh, Everdeen. I'm actually trying to help you bring a bit of happiness into your life but if you're too brainless to see that then fine; stew in your own misery." She picked up her bag & turned to face Katniss.

"If you need me I'll be in the photocopier room. I just saw Mellark on his way to Trinkets room, just a heads up there to aid you in your little avoidance plan. He also asked me if I'd seen you..."

"What did you say?" Katniss asked in a half whisper staring down at the sink. She knew Jo was right, she had to give him and whatever they had or could have, a chance. The whole thing had been gnawing at her all weekend to the point where she couldn't sleep. She wanted to text him but this wasn't a simple case of boy meets girl, boy kisses girl, followed by the obligatory ‘oh so charming’ text games that usually lead to a first date or being ignored. She wanted to speak to him face to face but now the moment was here...she was terrified.

"I said no I hadn't. Besides why do you care? It's all too awkward right?!" Jo huffed back and walked out the door.

The shrill clanging bell rang out breaking Katniss from her thoughts. Oh Shit she slapped her hand to her head. Monday mornings were her half day teaching in D12's kindergarten. The worst part of her week but she had been railroaded into it by Effie who had insisted how good the experience would look on her CPD plan this year although the truth of the matter was that every other staff member had passed up the opportunity to do it and Effie knew she could talk her round by bringing out the guilt inducing 'we need you Katniss' speech. Besides it was that or lunchtime detention duties 2 days a week. At least being there would give her head a break from Peeta mania. Mind you, the prospect of having to face Peeta later on with snot stains on her clothes and paint on her shoes didn't exactly thrill her either. Feeling a little more relaxed Katniss walked down the old rickety stairwell down into the main lobby, kindergarten bound. The years had not been kind to D12's main building, built in 1936 the red sandstone three storey building looked impressive from the exterior but inside was another story. Leaking roofs, peeling paint and some furniture that hasn't been replaced since Eisenhower meant that the school was often in a dilapidated condition. Mrs Cray wanted to bulldoze the entire building and rebuild but Cressida favoured fund raising events to preserve and fix, what was at its heart, a beautiful building full of character and history.

Katniss was rifling through her bag to find the key card that opened the kindergarten entry door when those smooth molten caramel tones echoed behind her. "Hey Katniss" Oh god. Oh god. Thought I'd at least have a couple of hours before facing him. She breathed out. 1-2-3. Slowly, she turned around, her eyes locking with a motherload of electric blue.

"Hi," she squeaked a little higher pitched than she intended. She cleared her throat trying to find a way to ground herself and not make this anymore awkward than it already was.

"Hi Peeta, hey, um how are you?" Those eyes twinkled and a soft smile crept over his lips.

"Not bad, all the better for seeing you."

If she wasn't so self-conscious she'd swear that Peeta's face flushed slightly. And then… Silence. Say something, say anything!

"Th-thanks you too. Hope the White Russians were kind to you next morning. I felt a little queasy but it wore off. Johanna swears by a Virgin Bloody Mary with her secret recipe hash browns & bacon breakfast. Really does sort you out..." Her voice trailed off as she realised she was in full babbling overload and that Peeta was smiling at her with a look of bemusement.

"I'll need to try that sometime. I personally prefer Cheese buns and a black coffee. I was helping out at the family bakery all day Saturday & that combination saved my ass. Not sure if White Russians were my best idea ever." "No, no they were good." Peeta beamed at her. As she started to feel lost in his eyes again.

"Mr Mellark! Where are you dear?" Effie trilled her clacking heels echoing off the concrete floor as she waltzed into the lobby. Her face a picture of panic as two children from Peeta's class walked sullenly behind her. One covering his nose with a blood stained tissue. "Two of your children have been fighting, yes fighting, in the playground!" She shrieked from behind. Peeta looked behind him and then smiled apologetically at Katniss.

"Sorry, looks like duty calls. Listen are you busy at lunch? I brought in left over cheese buns. I'd..." He hesitated as if trying to gauge what her answer would be. "I'd really like to talk...not to sound all heavy. But I'd like to explain why I didn't tell you what I knew on Friday night."

"I'm sorry I didn't text you Peeta. I, I, sorry it was just a lot to take in."

"Please, don't be – sorry I mean... Kinda figured you'd need some time. Hell, when I saw you for the first time last week, I definitely needed some time to process it all."

That smile, the one that made her melt the first time she had seen it through that crazy green headpiece, beaming at her, was full front and centre.

"Sure... um… meet me here, 12.15? I... I like buns.... cheese ones, I mean." She closed briefly her eyes cringing at her last statement. Learn to talk Everdeen.

"Good, good" he grinned, the look of relief pertinent on his face.

"Made by my own fair hand, so they should be tasty enough."

Was he flirting or was this just bakery chit chat?! Whatever it was she was starting to feel extremely warm again.

"Ok, um, I better get to Kindergarten. See you later." She clumsily turned around and gave him a wave.

"Give 'em hell, Dorothy girl" He smirked. Lord.

"I try," she mock sighed, pushing down on the door handle & walking through. Ok it was flirting, she grinned, definite flirting.

*********

"Sweet lord... unh… these are amazing," Katniss groaned and wiped her mouth self-consciously after what was her third cheese bun. Peeta laughed offering her a napkin and carton of orange juice.

"Honestly Peeta, your talents are obviously wasted here in the teaching profession. You bake like a bad ass." She grinned taking the carton. Jesus could I stop babbling at the cheese buns for 1 second and actually focus on the fact that Peeta and I are on a semi date?! And did I just say the phrase 'bake like a bad ass?' Do I now have the oracy skills of a ten year old?! Too many ridiculous questions were swirling around her brain. She took a long drink from the carton. Calm down Katniss, she mentally soothed herself. Not noticing her embarrassment Peeta grinned back at her.

"Ah, why thank you kind lady but I think I'll leave the bad ass for my time in the kitchen and keep the genteel for the classroom."

"Shame," she smiled back meekly. Peeta had been standing waiting for her at 12.15 on the dot outside the nursery doors. To be honest, after 3 hellish hours of dealing with runny noses, (one child has actually wiped his nose on her hand), repeated readings of The Gruffalo including one session where the Gruffalo and fox toy props were thrown across the room, seeing a gorgeous guy with knockout blue eyes holding a paper bag of freshly baked bakery goods was just the tonic. They sat on a bench under the huge willow tree in the front gardens of the school. It hadn't been as awkward as Katniss had worried it would be. Peeta was good at small talk and filling in silences, and just as she remembered from that fateful Halloween night, he always knew the right thing to say. Katniss reached over to take her juice carton, Peeta caught her eye and smiled at her, his cheeks looking slightly pinker than usual. Silence. Damn I spoke too soon. He cleared his throat and crumpled the paper bag causally in his hands.

"Uh Katniss, uh about the other night I..." the assured smooth talking stance seemed to be faltering.

"Yeah?" Katniss prompted.

"Well, ok here goes, I had this all rehearsed in my head and now I've messed it up already." He took a deep breath before continuing. "I like you Katniss. I've liked you since that night at the party. After we met I couldn't stop thinking about you but I was still involved with Cashm... my girlfriend at the time. We weren’t really getting on that well when we met but we had been together since high school and I wanted to make it work. It didn't though and we split up 2 years later. I wish, I had looked for you… God I wish so many things had been different. You were seeing a guy too right?"

"Yeah I was... um Gale. We broke up last year actually." She bit her lip. Where was this going? Did he regret meeting her, was it just too messy for them to even try and start something?

"Oh, I would say I'm sorry but..." He gently placed his hand over hers.

"But?" she breathed out shakily. The warmth of his hand was sending out those jolts of electric charge again.

"Well with no disrespect to Gale, his loss might be my gain?" Katniss smiled shyly, stroking his thumb gently.

"I couldn't believe it when I saw you here, just across the classroom. I wasn't sure if it was you at first. Having been a few years since that night and the fact that you weren't clad in gingham," he laughed softly. "I wanted to tell you at the Med but we were getting on so well and I guess I wanted to see if the same connection was still there, and it was... I felt it."

"I noticed you looking at me but thought maybe it was my imagination," she grinned.

"Why would you think it's your imagination?! You're beautiful. I don't think you know… the effect you have. "

Ok the fact that his head had come closer in proximity was definitely not her imagination. She feeling a little intoxicated. Those eyes and the fact that he had licked his lips were now all she could focus on.

"It's the same effect I felt at that party. It's dazzling, you're dazzling Katniss" He leaned forward, placed his hand on her cheek to cradle her face. His fingers softly grazed her temples. She could get lost in those hits of blue. She felt his breath on her lips, it was going to happen. Fuuucckkkk. She let out a soft squeak as she felt his lips graze hers. Heaven, heaven she sang in her mind. What - what what's that noise?! No, no! She groaned internally as the school bell rang with all its shrill intonations. She opened her eyes, Peeta touched her forehead with his. His fingers still stroking her face.

"Saved by the bell huh?!" He whispered huskily.

"Don't think I'd use the word 'saved' more like cursed," she rolled her eyes and lifted her hand up to stroke the tendrils of hair at the nape of his neck. He laughed and slowly pulled his head away but still holding her hand.

"Probably for the best really. Last thing we need is Effie hauling us into her office for unprofessional conduct."

Katniss laughed picking up her handbag and jacket.

"Hmm.... I think I would have risked it." He smiled bashfully, running a finger slowly from her temples to jaw. She shivered, oh god she was done for.

"Peeta Mellark... you live right on the edge don't you," she teased.

"Oh Miss Everdeen you have no idea," he winked cheekily. They walked up towards the school entrance in a happier much more comfortable silence. She stopped at the foot of the stairs.

"Thanks for lunch Peeta, it was... lovely." She felt her blush creep back with a vengeance.

"You're welcome. My class were in the gym hall for all of lunch. Cressida organised a judo instructor as a treat for their class of the week award. So I better go, and hope none of them try out any of their moves on me."

"Good luck with that," she laughed and started walking up the stairs.

"Uh Katniss...?”

She turned around. Nervous Peeta was back in business. "Would you like to get together one night this week? Dinner, or a movie or both?"

"Sure." Damn. She had gone for casual but it came out rather high pitched again. "I...I could cook dinner if you like, at mine. I'm no cordon bleu but I can whip up a mean Lasagne," she blurted out quickly. Her place?! Did she really say that? What was he going to think?! That she was easy. Learn also when to shut up Everdeen.

"Sounds fantastic. Are you free Friday night? You cook and I'll bring more buns?!"

"Yes: yes to all of the above. Seven a good time? And please do bring your buns, the more the merrier."

Peeta gave her a bemused look. "Yeah 7, I look forward to it and Katniss... my buns are always available," he grinned and walked away towards the gym hall before Katniss could respond. She was glad that wouldn't be able to witness how flustered and warm she had suddenly become again.

She was really going on a date with Peeta Mellark... monster boy... eyes that make all the panties drop. Oh lord she was done for.

******

"Let me be clear, you... Katniss Everdeen... offered up your cooking?! To an innocent victim?!" Madge cackled down the phone line.

"What's wrong with my cooking, I don't remember you complaining when you had the flu and I looked after you for an entire weekend!" Katniss shot back. "Katniss that was mostly grilled cheese sandwiches and heated up pizzas, which you burned!" She continued to laugh.

"Uh no I did not! And that was 6 years ago! I've been practising. Anyway Jo's Lasagne recipe is fool-proof.”

Madge had phoned that night for a catch up and now it had turned into a critical appraisal of her Friday plans with Peeta.

"Ok, ok no more roasting of Katniss, pun intended. At least tell me what you're wearing?"

"I haven't thought about it, jeans maybe, black top."

"Pants on fire K, I know you too well. You're crazy about this guy, but trying to play it cool, your tried and tested defence mechanism against disappointment. Which is mental. It's Peeta friggin' Mellark! He's a gorgeous and a total sweetheart. Why didn't you tell me you guys met at the Halloween party?"

"You know why! Um, long standing boyfriend at the time, you remember him...6 foot 2, dark hair, answered to the name Gale?"

"Har har, I just meant, it would have saved you a lot of time had you guys got together years ago."

"I wasn't going to give up my relationship for a crush on a guy in a monster costume Madge!"

"Uh-huh look how well that turned out."

"I know…" Katniss replied sadly.

"I'm sorry Katniss, that was out of line. Just been a bitch of a day and Adam is driving me nuts." Madge sighed

"Please, it’s us, we always have a get out of jail free cards for crabbiness, especially if it's about men being assholes." Madge and her boyfriend, the same Adam Gloss from the infamous Halloween party, were in the middle of a messy breakup. Adam, at being the dumpee, had recently started behaving a petty and spiteful manner towards Madge resulting in weekly demands for clothes, books, or some other, often insignificant object, that he wanted back from her apartment.

"Thanks. But still I shouldn't take his shitty behaviour out on my best friend. He texted me earlier and demanded a shitty plastic shot glass that he brought me back from Bermuda. Seriously K, I'm so glad I ended it, look at the kind of guy he is. He's certainly no Peeta." She sighed wistfully at the end of the sentence. "Maybe you should date him," Katniss joked.

"Haha! Nuh-huh, I've heard he's got it baaaad for you Everdeen."

"What, please… How do you know that?"

"I have my sources, namely Johanna." Katniss could almost hear her smirking. "And when have you ever listened to Jo?!" She laughed.

"Jo's a little intense but that's half the fun right?! Anyway you still haven't told me what you're wearing? I think you should go and buy a new dress. I'm thinking a sexy black body con style with your hair loose in tousled waves... If I wasn't three hours away by plane l would be coming over and supervising this whole date, instead I'm entrusting Johanna to man the decks."

"Body con Madge? Seriously. It's a low key first date, not dress up like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman. Besides Glimmer wears all those sultry style clothes and it hasn't impressed Peeta one bit." Katniss bit her lip remembering how all over Peeta Glimmer was at the night out. "That's just not me."

"Ok I know, I know, I'm just so excited for you plus you have an amazing figure Katniss. You should show it off sometime."

"One step at time. Listen Madge gotta run. Call you Thursday night ok. Love you." Katniss walked over and opened the door to Jo.

"You too, say hi to Jo, bye."

After their disagreement in the bathroom Katniss had apologised and provided a peace offering in the form of Chinese food and allowing Jo to bring over a choice selection of possible date outfits.

"You're as bad as Madge!" Katniss groaned later, upon viewing the 2nd outfit in Jo's often inappropriate collection of dresses.

"Madge has got some damn good taste then!" She sniggered running her hand down an obscenely short dark red leather dress.

"No, and that's the end of it. Do you have anything here that is..." She caught Johanna's eye and her challenging expression and she inwardly flinched at possibly starting another row with her.

"That's what K?" Jo replied with slight defiance in her voice.

"Well..." Katniss chose her words carefully. "More... me?" She looked up feeling a little anxious about how Jo was going to respond. Much to Katniss's relief Jo grinned wickedly, pulling out a dress from underneath the red leather one. "Yeah, yeah I get you K," she rolled her eyes. "So I came prepared." "Whadda'ya think?" She held up a sleek looking fine knitted black ribbed sweater dress. "100% Italian wool, ya know."

"Oh my god Jo, that's beautiful. Why haven't I seen you wear this before?"

"It's a little strait laced for my taste." She winked. "My mom got it for my Christmas last year. Forgot I had it. She gets all these swish looking dresses at that boutique of hers. I guess she was trying to smarten me up."

"You don't need it, perfect as you are Mason." Katniss bumped her fist affectionately on Johanna's shoulder.

"Well duh obviously, Brainless!" She laughed tapping Katniss's hand. "Anyway it's yours if you want it?"

"I can't have this Jo, it must have cost a..."

"Two hundred and fifty eight plus tax... Yep she left the tags on, just have it Everdeen. Don't say I don't treat you!" Jo flung the dress at Katniss. "Go try it on... You're gonna look hot, Mellark will flip his little blondie lid!"

"Thanks Jo, this is perfect" Katniss examined the dress. It felt so soft between her fingers. She inwardly blushed thinking about Peeta checking her out in it. "Anytime. Now about your makeup. I'm thinking a dark red lip and killer contouring of those cheekbones." Katniss mock sighed loudly before heading to the bathroom.

"We'll see…"

"No way, if I'm giving you that dress you're getting the makeup I order." Jo called after her.

"Sure Jo, sure." Katniss laughed closing the door.

The rest of the week had gone by in a blur of shy smiles and lingering glances across classrooms and stairwells. She hadn't got the chance to speak much to Peeta due to it being his turn to supervise lunchtime detention this week. By the time Friday afternoon came Katniss was beginning to feel definite pre-date jitters creeping up on her.

"What's the worst that could happen? Blondie won't put out on the first date." Johanna grinned mischievously as she gathered up a huge pile of homework sacks to give out.

"Har-har Jo, thanks. I feel much more at ease now," Katniss deadpanned. "Always happy to help K, - AARON CRAY WHAT DID MISS EVERDEEN JUST SAY?!" She thundered across the room to deal with more Cray shenanigans.

"Hey,” that beautiful voice that she came to crave and be fearful of at the same time echoed in her ear.

"Gah," she spun round to see Peeta leaning against the door frame wearing a sinfully fitting blue shirt that just made the blue of his eyes pop out even more. "Sorry you startled me there Mr Mellark," she self-consciously pushed her hair behind her ear and felt her face begin that familiar burn again.

"Apologies Miss Everdeen."

That sexy grin should be god damned outlawed she inwardly groaned.

"Was just wondering if I could borrow your copy of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory? Promised the kids I'd read a chapter to them today."

"Sure thing," she walked over to her bookshelf behind her desk, smiling to herself. He could have sent his TA to get the book but he went instead. Yep must have definitely wanted to see her.

"Here you go, enjoy."

"Thanks and by the way," Peeta lowered his voice and looked furtively around the classroom for any eavesdroppers "We still on for tonight?"

"Yeah, yes definitely. Seven?"

"I'll see you then," he replied with a wink and turned around to leave. "Hey Mellark! I expect a good report," Johanna called across the room loudly.

Peeta looked a little stunned for a minute, rubbed the back of his beck and smiled back coolly.

"It'll be A star Miss Mason, I promise!"

The three kids standing beside Jo stared over at Katniss and Peeta looking completely perplexed.

"Hey you three, heads down and concentrate," Jo snapped then smirked at Katniss.

"See you later Katniss," Peeta smiled apologetically at her before walking out. "Jesus," she muttered as if her nerves weren't already frazzled. Would she even make it to 7 tonight?!

*****

Hair done, makeup on, dress on, ah shit perfume still to spritzed, teeth - not brushed!? Oh god yes good breath is imperative. Katniss continued to mentally compile the rest of her to do list while putting the lasagne in the oven. It was quarter to seven and she was running behind, and as Madge predicted the cooking wasn't quite up to Cordon Bleu standards. She had burned the onions in the Bolognese and had to run out to the corner shop to hastily get some more and now the fucking whipping cream for the individual trifles wasn't whipping.

'Soft peaks,' the recipe had said. No peaks, just a runny mess.

Where's Martha Stewart when you need her? She muttered to herself. Hang on, hang on she grinned at her own inventiveness. She pulled out a can of whipped cream from the fridge and started spraying it into the set custard. Sorted. She raced through to the bathroom toothbrush in one hand, her Black Nirvana perfume in the other. You got this in hand Everdeen, all is well she reassured herself in the mirror. She had managed to talk Jo out of applying her makeup by letting her curl her hair instead. The last thing Peeta would want to see surely was her face trowelled on with makeup like Glimmer or (dare she say it) Cashmere?!

Her buzzer rang in a volume that seemed louder than usual or was it her nerves jangling?! She ran over and hit the button.

"Come on up," she called trying to sound casual but epically failing.

1-2-3-4-5, she counted inwardly while standing by the door waiting to let him in. 6-7-8-9-10, oh god oh god it's Peeta, Peeta Mellark soon to be in my apartment, 11-12-13-14-15, on a fucking date.

16-17-18-19, Jesus Mellark how long does it take to walk up to my door?!

20 - a loud purposeful knock came from the other side of the door.

She opened the door a little cautiously. There he was all 5'11 of him, his hair styled lightly with gel so it was pushed away from his forehead. This just intensified his beautiful eyes even more. He wore a black fitted shirt, black jeans with a beige casual jacket over the top. She wasn't sure if Peeta hadn't actually moonlighted as an Abercrombie model in the past because he was certainly working it. She realised she'd just been staring at him when he politely coughed and smiled shyly.

"Oh, hi Peeta come in," she gestured with her hands a little awkwardly.

"Thanks," he grinned walking through. He seemed as on edge as her putting A hand in his pocket.

"Uh these are for you." He handed a paper wrapped small bouquet of golden orange sunflowers.

"They're beautiful, thank you. Take a seat I'll go put them in water. Dinner should be in ten minutes. Would you like some wine?“ she replied a little shrilly. Get to the kitchen Katniss, just get there and calm the fuck down. She scolded herself.

"Uh yeah wine would be good. Thanks. Can I give you a hand with anything?" He called as she sped off to the kitchen,

"No, no just relax," She hurriedly placed the sunflowers in the vase by the window. Grabbed the bottle of wine and two glasses. Before leaving she took two deep breaths and then went back through. She sat down next to Peeta on the sofa.

"You look beautiful by the way," he said softly his eyes never leaving hers. She grabbed the wine glass a little too hastily spilling a little on Peeta’s lap.

"Oh jeez I'm so sorry!" She grabbed a tissue from the table.

"Hey, hey it's ok, Katniss it's fine. Was just a little spill." He clasped her hand and gently rubbed her knuckles reassuringly.

"Besides it's not the first time you've spilled alcohol on me," he smirked taking a sip. She couldn't bring herself to take her hand away it felt so good.

"Oh god," she groaned, "that was so embarrassing," remembering her face slamming into his green Lycra clad private parts all those years ago. Peeta laughed.

"Without sounding like a total perv I didn't mind it at all." His flirtatious cheeky manner was in full swing and it was the sexiest feeling in the world to be on the receiving end of it.

"I'm glad someone enjoyed my shame," she laughed. His hand was still rubbing hers and god did it feel fucking good. He let go gently and took his jacket off. She missed the skin on skin contact immediately.

"So how was your day?" She asked. He was so good at putting her at ease in every situation.

"Not bad. Effie asked if-" Suddenly Peeta’s voice was drowned by the piercing wail of her fire alarm.

"Wha – oh, shit! The lasagne!”

Leaping out of her seat she ran to the kitchen. Smoke billowed out of the oven. Peeta appeared behind her his hand on her shoulder.

"Do you have a dish towel?" He called over the din. She grabbed one from the counter and handed to him. He immediately started wafting the smoke away from the alarm. Springing into action she switched the oven off, pulled open the oven door with the mitt and threw the lasagne in the sink with an almighty clatter. Tears welled up as she stared down at the burned lasagne clogging up her sink. She heard Peeta continue to waft his tea towel and the horrendous mocking sound of the alarm.

Suddenly silence. The smoke had dissipated somewhat but still clung around the kitchen.

"Well...." Peeta still had his hand mid-air clutching the dish towel. "That's a welcome I'll never forget!"

He looked at her and his mouth twitched in amusement. Whatever frustration and anger she had just been feeling drained and she burst into laughter with Peeta following suit. They howled with laughter and after a minute Peeta pulled her into an embrace, kissing the top of her head, before peeling with laughter once again.

"I think...." she breathed clutching her stomach with hilarity, "That this is god’s way of telling me not to cook anymore."

"You think?!" He joked rubbing her back.

The dinner was ruined, her pride a little dented but the incident had diffused the tension she was feeling and for that she was thankful. She could be herself not first date jitters-Katniss.

"You wanna order takeout? She said wiping tears of laughter from her cheeks. "I've got an idea that's way better than takeout. I'll cook for you." He leaned down and kissed her on the lips. There in the middle of a smoky, messy kitchen with her eyes streaming Peeta was caressing her face with both hands and kissing her. The kiss deepened and Katniss moaned, stepping back against the counter to steady herself. He lightly traced her bottom lip with his tongue before gently letting it caress her own. A few minutes passed before he gently pulled back still stroking her face and neck. His blue eyes a tad darker than their usual cerulean hue.

"If you cook the way the way you kiss then I'll be in for a taste sensation," she grinned rubbing her hands up his arms.

"Oh just you wait Everdeen," he pecked her on the lips again before making his way over to her fridge. "Hmm... ok yeah I can work with this," he murmured to himself.

"Go sit and relax, I should be ready in say about 20 minutes." He grabbed a carton of eggs, milk, butter and a packet of bacon.

"What no Peeta. I'm staying here to help you. Least I can do since I burnt your dinner."

"Nuh-uh. If you want your dinner you'll go sit. Go on... too many cooks and all that." He grinned, pulled her in for another embrace from behind and started playfully tickling her.

"Ok, ok, ok I give in," she laughed pulling him in for another kiss.

"Mmm, I could just stand here and do this all evening," he looked lustfully at her. "But I promised you dinner and cheese buns, so scoot. "

She laughed and left him to it. Sinking back onto the sofa she took a large gulp of wine and sighed. What a night. She was nervous as hell wondering how she was going to handle him being there and now there he was cooking her dinner and kissing her in an obscenely sexy way that made her want to clench her thighs together and head to her bedroom to recover. Peeta was special, there was no doubt about it and she felt so lucky that they had reconnected.

Ten minutes later, she heard some dishes clanging together. She kinda felt guilty about leaving him to it but he seemed determined. She switched on some music. The relaxing tones of Massive Attack's Unfinished Sympathy were welcome and soothing. Grabbing the wine bottle she poured herself another glass. She put her fingers up to her lips and thought about that kiss. God....

A loud knock at the front door reverberated through the room. What? Oh come on, who would be knocking at this time on a Friday? Maybe it was the Super coming to inspect the fire alarm. Oh joy. She opened to door quickly.

1-2-3-4-5

"Hey, Katniss."

6-7-8-9-10

"Gale," she uttered.

Duh duh duuuuuuuh! He's back...evil cackle.. Be rest assured i'm no fan of Galeniss in any form lol but Katniss needs to confront and deal with her past once and for all.

For those who don't know, i am a primary teacher like Katniss and I also dislike my time teaching in nursery. Her experiences were definitely drawn from my own. (Although sadly I didnt have Peeta waiting for me with cheese buns....such is life)

#flowers in the window #everlark #everlark fanfiction #katniss and peeta #chapter 4 #was so nervous about posting this #will not as long for next chapter mantra mantra

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thrashermaxey · 7 years

Text

Ramblings: Happy New Year’s, Everyone! – January 1

Hopefully everyone had an enjoyable New Year’s Eve with family and friends. We only have the Winter Classic on tap today, so there won’t be much in the way of NHL news.

There will be a full update of the games on Monday afternoon during the Winter Classic. It’s New Year’s Eve, so I’m having dinner with my family and then heading out for the evening. I’m going to finish my look back at 2017’s stats and that’ll be it until New Year’s Day.

A happy 2018 to all the Dobber readers out there. May all your late-rounders be monsters, and your early picks not bust.

Before we get to anything, an update on Michael Frolik:

I'm told #Flames RW Michael Frolik underwent surgery to repair his jaw (obviously) and it's a 4-6 week timeline for recovery.

— Kristen Odland (@Kristen_Odland) December 31, 2017

In the meantime, Calgary has slotted Jaromir Jagr with Mikael Backlund and Matthew Tkachuk. Considering he was on the fourth line or scratched at times this year, I’m curious to see if he lasts very long. He’s the guy to own as the replacement for now, I suppose.

Yesterday I went through the performance of some forwards over the calendar 2017 season. I am going to do the same for defencemen and goalies now, though a bit shorter because we have more games to cover. Again, information will come from Dobber’s Frozen Pool, Corsica, Natural Stat Trick, and NHL.

Point!

Brent Burns, Victor Hedman, and Erik Karlsson went 1-2-3 in point production for 2017 with 66, 66, and 64 points respectively. That seems about right. Fourth was John Klingberg just behind Karlsson with 63 points. Hey, remember when he “only” had 49 points last year and people were down on him for some reason? Fifth? Nick Leddy with 57. That’s right. Not Roman Josi, or Shayne Gostisbehere, or Drew Doughty, or Kevin Shattenkirk. Nick Leddy.

It’s weird because since the start of the 2015-16 season, Leddy has more points than guys like Dougie Hamilton, Shea Weber, and Mark Giordano, yet he’s never really considered as a top offensive defenceman. He doesn’t perform across the board for roto leagues so that’s probably part of it but there’s no denying that Leddy is a reliable 40-point guy (pending John Tavares’ contract).

PP Point!

It was Shayne Gostisbehere, not Hedman or Burns, who led all defencemen in points with the man advantage in calendar 2017 with 30. He was a preseason favourite of many a writer/editor/contributor here at Dobber, and for good reason. The core of this team is locked up for at least another year (Wayne Simmonds’s contract expires after 2018-19), so there’s no reason to think anything will change for Ghost anytime soon. He’s shooting more on the power play as well, which is always nice to see. He remains one of the top dynasty owns on the blue line, and will for years to come.

Speaking of which, you can read Dobber’s keeper defenceman rankings here.

Put The Puck In The Back Of The Net

Unsurprisingly, Brent Burns leads all d-men in goals since January 1st with 20. Second place? Zach Werenski. Yeah, I did a double-take, too.

This isn’t to smear Werenski in any way. He’s clearly an elite young defenceman and will be for at least the next decade. He’s also had a great first half of the 2017-18 season, I just didn’t figure with that power play being so awful, plus him not being a monster volume-shooter like Burns or Karlsson, that he would find his way near the top of that list. It’s amazing.

Oh by the way, when researching this, I found this out:

D-men with 0.19 goals/game, 0.39 goals/game, 110 games played through their age-20 season. L.M.A.O. https://t.co/1ApyTmBsoQ pic.twitter.com/sAZsqSdWny

— Michael Clifford (@SlimCliffy) December 30, 2017

We’re not fully appreciating just how unbelievable Werenski has been to start his career as a whole.

Shots, Everybody!

Once again, to no one’s surprise, Brent Burns leads the list for shots by a defenceman, 76 more shots than second place. Second place, however, belongs to Justin Faulk with 235 in 82 games exactly. His shot rate at five-on-five is actually a career-best right now, so his production problems are likely a huge confluence of bad luck. He’s not scoring on the power play (he has zero PP goals), and his assist rate fell off a cliff.

Special shout out to Jacob Trouba being 1 of 13 blue liners with 200 shots on goal in 2017. His point production this season has been disappointing, but he’s a good player at both ends of the ice, he’s getting tons of ice time, and there is an abundance of offence on this team. Patience, my young padawans.

Dr. Jones

With all the love we just gave Werenski, it’d be disingenuous not to include Seth Jones. In calendar 2017, he was 1 of 8 defencemen with at least 10 goals, 30 assists, and 200 shots on goal. The other seven were Burns, Roman Josi, Alex Pietrangelo, Karlsson, Drew Doughty, Erik Karlsson, and Gostisbehere. As far as roto production goes, Jones belongs up there just outside of the elite tier. The problem, as Werenski might run into, is that pure production upside will be capped so long as that power play remains an affront to humanity. Until that gets fixed, Jones will be hard-pressed to crack the 50-point mark. Even without that high-end point production, Jones will do enough in other categories to warrant being considered a top option in roto leagues. That won’t change even if the power play drops to 5% (which it might, I’m not discounting anything here).

(note: for the goalies, I limited it to the sample of goalies with at least 40 games played)

Quack?

When you think of the top goalies of 2017, surely names like Sergei Bobrovsky or Braden Holtby come to mind first, right? The thing is, it was John Gibson who posted the top all-situations save percentage for the year, coming in at a very stout .930. The next-closest was Andrei Vasilevskiy at .925, followed by Bobrovsky and Jonathan Quick at .924.

The NHL history books are littered with highly-touted goalies who amounted to very little in the league. Gibson is not one of them. To this point of his career, he has a .922 all-situations save percentage in 148 games, and he’s still just 24 years old. I consider him to be among the top-5 keeper/dynasty goalies.

Goalie Winz

Holtby, naturally, was the far-and-away leader with 49 wins in 66 games (all starts), which is a crazy number. Second? Frederik Andersen and Cam Talbot at 38 wins.

Though Andersen’s contract was ridiculed (by me as well, in all fairness), he has lived up to his end of the bargain so far to start his Leafs career. Whether he is truly among the elite goalies in the league is a conversation for another day, but he is more than good enough for the Leafs to be a dangerous playoff team. If that team improves defensively over the next year or two, Andersen could be a top-5 fantasy option, given how much they can score.

Firing No Blanks

Of the 30 goalies with at least 40 games played, the only two without at least one shutout were Cam Ward and Jimmy Howard. Given how Ward has single-handedly saved the Hurricanes season over the last few weeks, it’s kind of hard to believe (I think).

Funnily enough, Howard’s all-situations save percentage was the same as Tuukka Rask’s (.911), and yet Rask had six shutouts to Howard’s none. Voodoo, indeed.

from All About Sports http://www.dobberhockey.com/hockey-rambling/ramblings-happy-new-years-everyone-january-1/

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