Apr. 18th, 2012

battlestarbean: (Default)
  So I've been really really quiet lately. 

That's mostly because hockey has taken over my soul. What started out as a lark has become a full-blown obsession, exacerbated by the fact that the playoffs are going on right now and shit is intense. Last night, the Blackhawks (the team I love) played the Coyotes in Chicago and it was just the worst, mainly because of this: 

This is Marian Hossa, who happens to own my soul, taking an absolutely devastating hit from Raffi Torres. I was screaming when it happened and I was screaming when Hossa didn't get back up and I was screaming when Torres wasn't ejected from the game. There was some crying thrown in there too, because Hossa had to be taken out on a freaking stretcher. The night continued to get worse from then on, mostly because of Torres' continued presence in the game, since he shouldn't have been there. Andrew Shaw got a three game suspension for a hit on the Coyotes goalie who, as it happens, played in the very next game. He was fine. Hossa was carried out on a fucking stretcher, and that asshole got to play the whole game, minus like, twelve minutes. It was too much--not to mention the shitty-ass calls the refs made that night.  That stadium was on fire though, and you can bet your sweet ass they were calling for blood in Chicago. I know I was here.

The Coyotes ended up winning in OT which sucks, but I'm not worried. I have every faith that the Hawks will come back and squash those assholes like the bugs they are, with a little assistance from my chat pals, since we are convinced that by channeling our combined hatred for Mike Smith and Raffi Torres, the Yotes will spontaneously combust in mid-play, on the ice, or at the very least, Mike Smith's hands will fall off and he will start vomiting and shitting from an unexplicable bout of food poisoning. Here's to hoping.

In other hockey-related news, Sidney Crosby turns out to be an unexpected delight. I don't know much about him, but after talking with my hockey pals, I discovered that the general consensus is somewhat mixed. To some, he's alright, to others, he's somewhat of a big-mouthed puss, to be treated with disdain or indifference. At least that's how it was with them, until this: 

I haven't been watching very closely, but I have it on good authority that the Pens-Flyers series of the playoffs has been somewhat of a shitshow. This gif is of Sid Crosby super bitchily knocking away Jakub Voracek's glove, which is funny all by itself because it's such a cutesy sort of dick move. It escalates into awesomeness when you see the interview Sidney does after this game and how he responds to reporters asking about the move: 

What was he supposed to do? Pick up his glove?  What was that? Skate away? Skate away, you say? Yeah, well, he didn't that time, so.

Guys. He doesn't like anyone on their team. What don't you get about that?

I'm just delighted. I'm delighted because as bad as it sounds, that's probably the same answer would have given. Sidney Crosby, you own my heart in this moment because we are simpatico. We are both children when competing.

I have so many feelings about this stupid game, and there's no way I could cover it all in one go. Just know you'll probably be hearing more about hockey shenanigans and less about the more geektastic aspects of my life as the playoffs continue. I'm just saying. This shit ruins lives. 

battlestarbean: (Default)
 Looks like Raffi Torres has been suspended indefinitely for that shit-tastic hit on Hossa last night. Good effing riddance. 

I honestly never anticipated a time in my life where I'd be sitting at a computer with at least twelve tabs open, half of them hockey gifs and the other articles about hockey. I'm a black girl from the south in a city whose hockey team moved to Winnipeg. Being a fan of this stuff wasn't in the cards for me. 

But, I guess it was. 

And I'm really, really glad.

Here, have some of my love:

battlestarbean: dark place (Garth Marenghi)
     I just got a crazy craving for some Kaner/Tazer smut. No plot in particular, I just want something where, I dunno, they're in a quasi-established relationship, fuck buddies maybe, good for getting each other off every once in awhile, but sometimes they have sex in this way that's more intense than usual. Most of the time it's fumbling hands and groping in the dark, assisted and hindered by alcohol, but sometimes, they find themselves having slow, insane, agonizingly hot sex and being stone cold sober during, so they have nothing to hide behind.  They still rock denial like CHAMPS and make up the flimsiest-ass excuses as to why it happens, but on those nights, Tazer holds Kaner down, covers him with his whole body, so that Kaner feels him, all along his back, just blanketing  him, not giving much room to move or do anything, really. So they just breathe together for a bit at first, Tazer's breath coming warm and damp on his shoulder, soft pants in his ear.  Kaner probably likes this way more than he'd like to admit, being held down by Tazer, being taken and not being in control. He doesn't think he'd feel the same way doing it with just anyone, he's pretty sure it's just Tazer. He knows that Tazer's always going to take care of him, always look out for him. This is just another example. It's about trust and faith. He can do this with Tazer, let himself go and be taken care of and covered and controlled because he trusts Tazer, and knows with faith like the sun that Tazer would never do anything to hurt him or put more on him than he could handle. Giving himself over is like breathing, it's so easy. 

When they fuck it's a slow burning tease. Johnny sets the pace and on those nights is achingly slow with his thrusts, pulling all the way out and thrusting all the way back in so that eventually with every drag outwards, Patrick is let out long, low moans, completely unable to help himself. Every slide sets him on fire from the inside, and all Patrick wants to do is burn and explode, but the pace is set and instead Patrick just smolders, just burns long and steady until he feels like he might die. The moans almost inevitably turn into Johnny's name, over and over again, and although Tazer's pretty quiet for most of it, when Patrick starts saying Johnny's name like it's a prayer, like it's a plea for something, he starts babbling all kinds of thing is Patrick's ear about how good he is, how fucking good he feels and how he can barely stand it, but he never speeds up his hips, never thrusts in that fast erratic way that signals the end and Patrick feels like he might pass out before long.

Then skip to the end, mindblowing orgasms that have Kaner's eyes leaking a little at the corners (not that he'd ever admit it) and leave them both just wrecked. There are no goofy quips or jokes after these nights. Mostly they just curl into each other and fall asleep, quietly devastated by how much it takes out of them and all the FEELS.

 I dunno they find out that there's a pattern to when they have the special sex, like, after a really good win,or a personal victory or when Tazer is jealous of perceived flirting on Kaner's part and Kaner comes to the conclusion that those times are Tazer like, marking his territory, reminding Patrick's body why they'll never be another that can hollow him out, render him incapable of higher thought and make him dissolve into nothing like him, or some shit. I dunno. Something about possession. This leads to FEELINGS and even more good times. I don't even know,

IN ANY CASE, yeah, so someone should point me in the direction of like, scorchingly hot, delayed gratification sex between Kaner and Tazer. Or write it for me, you know, whichever. :-)

August 2012

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