#they have one brain cell and it’s sidneys

[respectthepetty]

Pride Petty Watch - LiTA (Sky/Prapai) 1/3

The crowd picked Love in the Air as the first show to ever move off of my Petty List, so I'm watching it and recapping my experience, and oh boy, is it an *experience*. I wrote about the first seven episodes in two parts [here and here], so it's time to dive into the next six episodes!

Woot woot!

I had to make sure I didn't click on episode one again because it's the same scenes showing again. This is the third time they have been shown? Fourth? I'm here for one thing and one thing only. Quit bullshitting LiTA and GIVE ME WHAT I CAME FOR!

Oh my God, my heart just jumped into my throat with this music and this lighting behind this devil.

I know how their story starts. I already knew. I will be not be upset at him. I will not get into my feelings about this even though this music and lighting are hellbent on making Prapai seem like The Worst™

I would love to claim "pink = 💕love💕" but not today, Satan.

Sky saying "Where's the condom?" as more of a demand rather than a question and the arch of his back are an appreciation post in themselves. This is transactional and he is not here to make friends.

WHY AM I BEING SHOWN RAIN AND PAYU AGAIN?! If you don't have enough material for thirteen episodes, just say it! Because my boy disassociated, went on autopilot, and is now tucking this nightmare away in a dark corner of his mind in true Trauma Compartmentalizing 101 fashion, yet I gotta see Payu and Rain's Daddy x Baby nonsense another round?! I only respect one person in this house and the rest of these men can choke. I wrote what I wrote.

Hold up, Prapai was AWAKE when Sky left looking like that? And now he is reminiscing about it in all black with that black rose of death lapel pin? *Arthur Fist*

I support queer rights AND queer wrongs, but this show is testing me like I'm fucking Frodo having to deliver a ring to the depths of hell in the month of Pride. Sky just went home and cried on his bed, while this woman is talking about getting over heartbreak because Prapai can't stop thinking about this one-night stand. I cannot be queer and *here* in these conditions with el diablo smirking every two seconds.

KinnPorsche, my old enemy, we meet again. Didn't think I'd see you here, but it tracks because where there is a rich bastard incapable of getting over the poorer man he wrongfully exerted power over, there will be a robe, wine, and a sex worker. (That boy looks like the Memory in the Letter lead)

"I feel sorry for your prey" - Everyone is too busy looking at the metaphorical weather that represents the characters to notice the red alert standing right there.

On God, if a man called me like that without telling me his name and proceeded to just . . . be creepy, it'd be on like Donkey Kong. I was raised by Sidney Prescott from Scream and if a man wants to play games over the phone, then he needs to be prepared to die. And what is it with this show trying to distract me with with these problematic men working out? I know they are attractive, but as Michelle Visage stated "stop relying on that body!" AND NOW CREEPY TEXTS, and the only thing Sky thinks is a "man like that wouldn't be into [him]" . . . BL boys would greatly benefit from feminism.

Prapai, you have to get less creepy. You just have to because this is not it, my man. You are throwing out the beginning-of-a-psycho-killer vibes and I cannot. I simply. Can. Fucking. Not.

Sky is pissed at Rain, threw the flowers, and has Prapai listed as "Psycho" so it's clear who has the brain cell of these weather boys, and it's the one whose back is hurting FROM CARRYING THE WEIGHT OF THE DAMN WORLD ON HIS SHOULDERS!

I will not be swayed by the sunflowers, the fact that Prapai is aware Sky is a Sad Boy, or the blue. As far as I'm concerned, by the end of this episode, Prapai is still the devil. NEXT EPISODE!

The energy between these two is giving me GMMTV "brothers," and that is not a compliment.

I'm not going to fault Sky for not throwing away the flowers because reuse, recycle, re-

WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING?!

*took a six hour break and contemplated the meaning of life, made an avocado smoothie then poured rum in it, started doing yoga then ended up in savasana, which means I just laid there and looked at the ceiling, and finally I remembered the gorgeous Zani is in this show, so I returned*

This boy is me and I am him. I'm so chill that if I got any cooler, I'd be an ice cube. Just chilling. So chill. The chill is immaculate. I am meditating. I am praying. I am one with the storm. I'm the chillest. Climate change no longer exists because I'm just, so, fucking, chill. ~Let's continue~

I don't want to give Prapai any credit because I already told my mom I hate him which means we are sworn enemies in this life and future ones as well, but him noticing that Sky spaced out even though he immediately jumped back into flirting mode, and him reinforcing that he thinks Sky is attractive in any state including this one should be an issue because he is still focusing on Sky's body, but he doesn't know Sky well enough to have anything else, so . . . one whole point for Slytherin, I guess.

Rain is not a real one and if Sky was a rapper, this in when he would have dropped the ultimate diss track cementing his place in academic rhetoric for all eternity. Even if I didn't know about his ex, I could have read that expression, but Rain? Once again, one brain cell, and Sky has it.

I want to give Prapai the points for the food, but he doesn't even know what Sky likes, so this is White Man Ambition at its finest. Thank goodness that Sky is throwing it awa-

NOT THE FUCKING RED AGAIN!

Dear Reader, I'm going to level with you here one and a half episodes into this arc: I now fully understand The Fuckery. I greatly appreciate the 126 people who picked this show because this is the perfect example of what I keep reading about a MAME series. The abrupt shifts between aggressive flirting, dick jokes, and trauma is jarring. I knew the kidnapping was coming for Rain, but hearing Stop say that Rain would be sexually assaulted by his gang of men if Payu didn't stop fighting back was the most violent moment of an already physically violent event that, strangely, did not affect me until that very moment. I know what is coming for Sky, yet having these intercuts of Sky's abuse, although effective, are humbling in a way I was not expecting. Because what I had thought I was walking into was a trashy watch with gratuitous sex talk and some drama, but what I'm experiencing is a lot of emotional discord as the story swings between extremes while refusing to balance itself out. There is no middle ground in this show. I will continue to be petty about this watch, but I get it now in a way I was never going to grasp without watching one of her series and I'm graciously realizing I would not have survived TharnType because even as Prapai connects the dots that something *very bad* has happened to Sky based on his interactions with Sky, he smiles because . . . well, because.

So even though Sky and Prapai's arc is smaller than the first, my watch is going to be in three parts instead of just two because . . . well, because.

~Let's continue~

I'm going to try really hard to give Slytherin points here, *grinds teeth* so even though this man is stalking Sky, he gets credit for showing up, which according to the great philosophers, is half the battle. Also, I know his lapel pins are important, so the sunflower and the bee after he gave Sky meaningful sunflowers is a nice sentimental touch, but he gets no points because HE COULD'VE OFFERED THE BOY A RIDE! The perfect pitch was right there, yet he swings and misses.

I don't listen to true crime podcasts, but I feel confident that most cases start with a stalker using several devices to contact their victim after his primary mean is blocked. Basically, I need Prapai to do as Sky's shirt says and "CHILL THE FUCK OUT!" I'm trying to give him points but he refuses to exhibit any level of chill. None. No chill. Not ice cube. Just sad hot puddle of zero chills.

I felt *something* between Sig and Som when they were arguing across the tables in episode seven, but now I know Sig is trying to instigate a fight with Som just so he can have that boy's hands around his neck. I respect it.

Sky is having a breakdown because of the onslaught of texts Prapai keeps sending him from multiple devices and as he huddles in the fetal position begging to be left alone having bursts of anger, the phone begins to vibrate signaling more texts are coming through. The director, Ne, also served as an editor on Only Friends, and if he whispered in Jojo's ears to make Ray's bathtub scene just as gut-wrenching as this, I just wanna eat some soup with Ne and know like "You good, boo?"

I am fighting for my life in these trenches!

Rain picked up Sky's phone and told Prapai to come to the hospital. Rain? Rain who was on his knees begging for Sky's forgiveness after he gave Sky's number to Prapai? As in the Rain who was told to stay out of Sky's business? Like the same Rain who Sky looked in his face and told him he would never be with Prapai? THE RAIN WHO IS NOW GIVING PRAPAI THE KEY TO SKY'S APARTMENT?! That Rain?!

"I made a promise to Rain" - Pero like . . . why do you have to make promises to not fuck with unconscious and sick people? Cause shouldn't that be a given? No? Mmm. Interesting development.

I have only watched two episodes. TWO! I'm not even halfway through this AND I know how this ends. No amount of knowledge or spoilers has properly prepared me for this journey, and now I'm scared and I want my mom to come pick me up.

But here I am. Clicking on the next episode.

pinche cabrón

[weirdmorefics]

Unmasked Chpt 1- The Call

Word Count- 1,461

Morning came slowly I stayed up most of the night with nightmares. The nightmares are usually worse this time of year, I think it is my mind's way of reminding me of the anniversary of the first Ghostface murders. My brain is wrong though I need no reminder. The only thing keeping me at all sane during the night is the fact that Spencer is not lecturing today and I will get to see him in the morning at work.

I walk into the BAU with a box of donuts for the team since we are all stuck doing boring paperwork today.

"Morning kid, you look like shit. Long night?" Rossi says full of humor.

I roll my eyes and open the box of donuts, "Hey, don't bite the hand that feeds you."

Rossi puts his hands up in surrender then grabs a donut, "Thanks, kid."

As he walks away I shout "Could you stop calling me kid too because that would be great!"

I set the donuts down in the breakroom and picked out one of Spencer's favorites to set on his desk.

I approach Spencer's desk and set the napkin-wrapped donut down on his desk. "Morning Reid,"

"Thank you, Y/n morning to you too. Did you know Americans consume ten billion donuts every year?"

I smile "Well let's make that ten billion and one." My phone cuts off the conversation and I see my sister's contact photo, "Excuse me I have to take this..." I hope he didn't notice my face shift to an anxious one.

Sidney never calls only texts and she still barely does that. She thinks I am an idiot for chasing after the crazy people who kill when enough killers already come after us.

"Do not come to Woodsboro," Sidney states in a serious tone as soon as I pick up my cell.

"Wow, what a lovely way to begin a call! No, hey sis how are you?" I bite back sarcastically.

"Did you hear me Y/n? Do not come to Woodsboro!" She repeats.

" I wasn't planning on going to that hell town anytime soon. What's going on with you? Shouldn't you be busy with your book tour or something?" I respond trying not to sound concerned.

"He's back Y/n," she whines out.

I swallow deeply and walk away from the desks and towards Penelope's office she is never here this early anyway. "This isn't funny Sidney."

"I am in Woodsboro and my rental car has a murder weapon in it and ripped-up pictures of my face and yours. Oh and did I forget to mention two kids were murdered in the same exact way as the original ones... so yeah I'd say he's back." She responds quickly in an angry panic.

I slam open Penelope's door and proceed to vomit my guts out in her trash can. I hear the wheels of her chair squeak as Penelope looks at me with concern as I dry heave in her trashcan. I definitely should have checked if anyone was in here first.

"Sweetheart, are you okay?" Penelope asks softly.

"Sidney, I got to let you go," I breathe out and hang up on her.

I wipe the sweat off my forehead. Why does no one ever mention how exhausting dry heaving is?

"I'm fine Garcia," I try to sound detached. I can't be here. One thing that makes the Ghostface all the same is they want to kill the Prescotts and everyone they love.

"You really don't look fine," she says full of concern.

I try to exit without a word but Penelope is quick to follow to make sure I am okay. It must be an odd scene as Penelope chases me and I speed walk away. Especially since we are always attached at the hip.

I ignore everyone's gaze and walk into Prentiss's office without a word.

Prentiss was doing paperwork of her own and did not even look up, " I need a leave of absence as soon as possible... preferably today"

That statement made her head quickly whip away from her mess of papers, "This is awfully unlike you Y/n... has something happened."

The stress of the anniversary, Ghostface, and the worry of losing Spencer Reid after we just got him back from prison seem to boil all over at once. "I JUST NEED A LEAVE OF ABSENCE IS THAT SO HARD TO DO EMILY!" I shout so loud and instantly regret as I see all my team members' eyes on me from Emily's office window.

"I am sorry Prentiss," I put my hand to my forehead fighting back the anger and fear-induced tears. I have seen so many murders I should be used to it at this point but Ghostface will always be different he always comes back as someone new.

Emily stands up shutting the blinds to her office to halt the onlookers. "L/N you need to tell me what this is about, right now! I have never once seen you act like this."

I pace back and forth the last name I made up did nothing to protect me I will always be a Prescott. I just need to get out of here before they find that out. I take a deep breath, "I am really sorry I can't, I just can't tell you. It will just get you hurt. It will get the whole team hurt and I can't do that! Spencer just got back, Scratch is gone, and the team is almost back to normal I will not ruin it. I am going to leave either way I just needed you to know."

I turn to leave but Emily grabs my arm, "Agent, if you are in danger I need to know. One more thing you also seem to be forgetting is this team won't be normal without you."

A knock follows her statement, "Is everything okay? Garcia told me Y/n was sick. Does she need a drive home?" It's Spencer's voice I can tell immediately. The question makes this even harder. Why must he be so kind? Why can't I stand to leave him?"

Emily's gaze meets mine, "I recognize that look."

"Prentiss I don't have time for your profile," I whisper shout to prevent Spencer from hearing me.

"I know all too well what it's like to be undercover Y/n," Emily states compassionately.

"I have no idea what you mean?"

"Your file is suspiciously blank and sealed of all past background and Strauss assured me it's for the better. It is similar to what my file used to look like." Emily unfortunately continues to profile me.

I feel trapped I can't go to the door Spencer is there and there is no escaping Emily's questions.

Spencer proceeds to knock again, "Everything alright in there?"

I sigh, "Emily I will tell you everything if you leave the team out of this."

"Y/n you know I can't promise that," she frowns.

I grab her hands tightly, "You have to because I know how to deal with this but every time he comes back someone around me dies!"

"Who comes back Y/n?" Emily's tone changes to a demanding one like the one she uses in the interrogation room.

"Promise me you won't tell the team! Promise me you won't let Reid get involved." Tears prick my eyes I don't care that I am being blatant about my feelings for Reid nothing can happen because I am cursed to repeat the same horrors for the rest of my life.

Emily sighs, "I promise."

"Ghostface is back... and my last name isn't L/N... it's- it's Prescott," I stutter as the words come out like saying them would make this more real than it already is.

"As in the Woodsboro killings?" Emily asks in utter disbelief.

"Unfortunately... and I have to go back there, for my sister," I state. "You can not convince me not to, I can't lose her."

"Y/n we solve cases just like this we can do this as a team," She soothes.

"Tell that to the last agent who tried to help my sister and nearly died," my stress getting the better of me causing me to shout and not notice Spencer opening Prentiss's office door.

I felt the eyes on me once again, I doubt I can talk myself out of this one. The chance of a silent escape gone stuck in a room of profiles who could sense I am on the urge to bolt out the door. Then my phone starts to ring in my pocket, none of the team seems to notice when Emily gives me a knowing look. She clearly knows the Ghostface cases well they all start with a phone call.

Taglist- @bunbunbl0gs

[final-girl96]

My Boyfriend's Back Chapter Forty-Three

I walked into the living room and rested my hands on the back of the couch. "Yn!" I sighed, pushed off the couch, and made my way to Sidney. When I walked out the door and down the steps, I stopped. Right across from the set of Stu's house was ours. "What the fuck?" I whispered. Sidney was standing right in front of the house that was made to look exactly like our childhood home.

We walked into the house and looked around. They had a set for Sidney's bedroom and mine. They looked exactly like they did when we were in high school. "This is insane," I said, standing by the windows in Sidney's bedroom. "Yeah, it takes me right back to that week," she said. The next couple seconds happened so fast we had no time to comprehend anything.

We were running through the set of our house until we were back in the room that was burned into our brains forever. Our mothers room looked damn near identical to that very night. They even had a dumb under a white blood-stained sheet on the floor. Then it stood up and started talking, saying our names. We backed up towards the window, and I climbed out with Sidney close behind.

Sidney's foot slipped and she grabbed a hold of me only to make us both fall and tumble off the roof. Voices yelling our names caught our attention. Dewey and Randy came into view along with the detectives and other officers came running towards us. Sidney frantically told them the killer was in the house. But when they checked there was no one there. That wasn't a surprise.

Now Sidney and I were alone in Kindaids office. "So…Kincaid is handsome…" I was walking around the room looking at everything. I stood in front of the whiteboard where they had names and leads written on it. "Yeah, he is." Sidney said in a distracted tone. I turned around to see her looking at something. "What's that?" I asked.

"A file on me. There's one for you too,'she said and handed it to me. I opened it to see police reports from when our mom was murdered, newspaper clippings from after Stu and Billy's killing spree. When I flipped the page there was a paper that had Stu's name with a question mark. His wanted poster was behind it with other clippings. Then I saw something that made my heart stop then speed up.

Is yn Prescott hiding Stu Macher?

Is he the father of her child Resselynn Prescott?

Has she known where he's been since the Woodsboro massacre?

"Are you okay?" Sidney asked. "He thinks I'm hiding Stu," I whispered. "What?" She gently took the file from me and went silent. "Is…is Stu…" I stopped her before she could completely ask me that question. I walked over and closed the door so no one could hear us. "We both know that you all know he is. He was at Windsor. He was behind Windsor actually. And I know I shouldn't have done anything. I should have called the police. It was stupid and now… I love my daughter and I'm glad I have her."

"I know you were seeing him. You're not very good at hiding shit. Just like I knew every time he snuck into your room. Do you know where he is now?" She asked. I gave a look and she sighed. "He just showed up, Sid. Now Reese is attached to him. I couldn't just say no to him, I was afraid he'd do something. And I hate myself because I still love him!"

Before we could get into it more Sidney's cell phone rang. There was no surprise to who it was either. The killer had Gale and Dewey, she said she could hear their muffled screams in the background. Now we were outside a big mansion on top of a hill. There was supposed to be a party for Roman Bridge, the director of Stab 3, here. The mansion belongs to a big time producer or something.

Instead of going for the front door we went around back to where the pool was. Laying on the ground was one of the actors; dead. Sidney's phone rang and she answered. He made us use a metal detector and get rid of the guns we took from Kincade's office. When asked how we knew this wasn't some trap we were told to look inside. Through the window we could see Gale and Dewey tied to chairs with rope.

Nothing made sense when Kincade showed up. At first I thought maybe I was wrong and Stu didn't have anything to do with any of this. But he had admitted to killing Cotton. Kincade being the killer faded just as fast as the thought came when he was shot. Randy was right about this killer being "superhuman". He was shot several times and nothing happened except for him disappearing.

Somehow we all got separated. I was alone, walking the halls slowly, making sure to look around each corner. I yelped when I ended up running into someone. "Shh! It's me. It's just me!" Hands were holding me by the shoulders. I looked up to see Randy. "Randy?" He put his finger to his lips and pulled me into what looked like the study. "What the hell? When did you get here?" I asked. He looked at me like I lost my mind. You called me, yn. You said to meet you here."

It was my turn to look at him like he was crazy. "Umm��no. No, I did not. What the fuck are you talking about?" I never called him. The last time I spoke to him was right before Sidney and I were taken back to the station. "You fucking called me…" he was cut off by someone banging on the door. I looked around the room for any place to hide, even though I knew that was impossible.

Then I saw it; the smallest amount of light coming from under one of the bookcases. "Hey, help me. This has to be one of those secret doors or something." I checked for a seam that could be pulled but found nothing. Randy started to pull on the books, throwing them on the floor, so I began to help him. My hand landed on one of the books and pulled down. The bookcase swung out towards us, and we rushed into a small hallway. Randy pulled the bookcase closed and locked it from our side before we continued on.

[mrsaltieri-real]

His Perfect Victim (Mickey Altieri X OC!Dahlia Levine)

Chapter Eleven: I Think I Knew

Words: 4.6k

Warnings: Lanaguage, smut, oral, blowjob, cunnilingus, fingering, brief ass eating, (like REALLY brief) a little angst, fluff, lying, harassment, gaslighting, praise, a little dirty talk

A/N: smuttiest chapter yet! This was so much fun to write, I ended up completely losing myself in it. Shoutout to @bisexual-horror-fan for editing and beta reading and also for helping me get this done! I was really doubting myself on this chapter and you really talked me through it and helped me do it so much. You’ll never know how grateful I am dude!

@lizey-thornberry as your wanted to be tagged.

Mickey rubbed his eyes, before his hand pulled away, now watching as I stood up, my cell clenched between my fingers a little tighter than necessary as I stared at the now blank screen. Anger and confusion shooting through my brain at a million miles an hour, heart pounding in my rib cage and palms more damp than they should be. Who the fuck was doing this? Why were they doing this? How did some stranger have my phone number?

“Dahlia, who was it?” He asked again, struggling to untwist himself from my comforter to sit beside me, running his hand over his dishevelled bed hair. Any other night I’d find how his messy dark hair fell into his eyes sexy, or how cute he looked when he was still half asleep, but not that night. No, that night I felt an overwhelming sense of unease.

“I don’t know.” I mumbled, my eyes fluttering closed as I tossed my cell back onto my bedside table, “They hung up when they heard your voice, though.”

A small pause as he absorbed my words, a small cock of his head as if working out some kink in his neck, a minor clearing of his throat, his voice was clearer as he asked, “Okay? Are you implying something?”

I turned to look at him, teeth sinking into my bottom lip before letting out a sigh, turning around, so I was facing him entirely before speaking, “You know Gale Weathers’ stupid book? Sid, Randy and I were told it might be being made into a movie. If it does, it’s releasing sometime next year.”

“So…” Mickey’s voice trailed off as he looked at me expectantly, one eyebrow slightly arched.

“So, since the possibility got announced, Sidney’s been receiving a lot of weird phone calls, but they’d talk to her using that…” I swallowed a little, shaking my head, as though I was trying to shake the memory of Billy Loomis calling me using that voice, “Modulator. But they speak to her, whoever this is doesn’t actually speak to me. Just kind of breathes until they hang up.”

“Sweetheart, I think you’re overthinking this a little. How do you know it’s someone trying to prank you? It could just be someone calling the wrong number. How many of these calls have you had?”

I hesitated, looking down, so my hair covered my face and mumbling, “Five or six?”

I heard Mickey’s teeth lock together, and my head snapped up at the sound to see him staring at my wall, looking more pissed off than I’d ever seen him. “Jesus, what?”

He looked back at me, expression quickly smoothing out as he sent me a half-hearted smile, his hands moving to rest on the back of my neck as he said as softly as he could manage, “I don’t think it’s the same thing as Sidney’s getting.”

“You don’t?” I asked hopefully, hand flying up to rest over his hand, my fingers curling around his.

“No, I don’t. Maybe we should get you a new number.”

“Yeah, maybe.” I dropped my hand, picking up my cell and deciding to turn it off. Ghostface was gone, I didn’t need to live in fear anymore. Of course, with the rights to the book potentially being made into a movie, people completely detached and uninvolved are going to try and harass the survivors, it was in human nature to be curious. It was still bullshit and unfair that anyone tried it, though.

But as it would turn out, Mickey would be right. It wasn’t the same calls Sidney was receiving, or Randy for that matter.

“You’re stressed.” I felt his hands move to rest on my shoulders, pulling me back against his chest and his lips pressing gently to my pulse, making me sigh and my head fall on his shoulder. I could feel his smile against my skin and I turned my head, my forehead resting against his cheek, “This overthinking isn’t healthy, Dahl.”

“Tell me about it.” I muttered, making him chuckle under his breath, lips gently kissing my neck. I lifted my head, so I was looking at him, watching as his head tilted slightly as he took in my gaze with a questioning hum. “I really like you, Mickey.” I said softly, and he smiled at me, expression softening as he said sincerely, “I really like you too.”

Looking back now, I don’t know if he meant it, at least at that moment. But with how he looked at me, how his brown eyes softened like melting chocolate and his heart stuttered against my back as I said the words, I like to think he was telling the truth.

Before long, I was kissing him again, adjusting myself, so I was straddling him on my bed with my hands knotted in his thick, dark hair and grinding myself down against him, desperately needing him to take away the memory of that stupid phone call in a way only he could.

“Dahl- Dahl, stop.” He breathed against my mouth, his fingers gripping my hips tightly. I pulled back straight away, attempting to remove myself from him and mumbling apologies, but he quickly shook his head, his hand moving to tuck some stray hair behind my ear, “No, no. I was just um… going to ask if you wanted to try something?”

I raised my eyebrows, looking at him skeptically. “What?”

“We don’t have to do it, but I just wanted to do something for you. If you’re ready, no pressure.”

His smile was so charming, so beautiful, I couldn’t help but smile back. I knew already what he was implying, his eyes kept dropping down as he spoke, and I nodded my head, feeling a little nervous. This was a good way to take my mind off of stuff, and I cared about him. Cared about him more than I thought possible. It was weird, considering I hated this cocky asshole four months ago and now here he was in an instant, laid between my legs with his fingers dancing under the elastic of my panties, his brown eyes looking up at me for confirmation to which I quickly granted with a nod and a nervous smile which made him laugh again, though this time it was a little less playful and a lot more serious.

“Are you sure you want this?” He asked, kissing my inner thigh gently as he looked at me as if he was studying my face.

“I’m sure.” I said confidently, surprised at my own voice. It sounded different, maybe it was the excitement. Maybe it was because I could already feel how wet I was. Maybe it was because I had the man who was the most beautiful person I’d ever seen kissing my inner thigh, desperate to taste me.

He gently, slowly, pulled my panties down my legs, eyes leaving my face to settle on my pussy, his head resting gently against my thigh, his hair tickling my sensitive skin.

“Beautiful.” He said softly, and before I could respond with some kind of sarcastic come back, I felt it.

I felt his broad, flat tongue lick up my slit, making me gasp and move back instinctively, regardless of how nice it felt. He chuckled slightly, eyes darker than ever as he asked if I was okay, pulling back to look at me.

“I'm fine, I’m sorry!” I breathed, urging him to do it again, to which he obliged with a small chuckle, this time hooking his strong arms around my knees, placing them over his shoulders for better access.

His lips grazed up my thigh again, the sensation making me want to drop my head against the pillow, but I didn’t want to miss watching him.

I felt his tongue before I saw him move, he was much gentler this time, using the tip of his tongue to gently drag up my slit and stopping at my clit, softly repeating the action until I was beginning to writhe and sigh.

He smiled up at me, his fingers stroking my thigh gently as I felt his lips wrap around my clit.

“Oh!” I couldn’t help but gasp out, body jolting and my hands moving to thread through his hair as I felt his soft lips suckling at my clit, looking down at him to see his brown eyes fixed on my face.

He hummed around my clit, the gentle vibrations sending shockwaves through my body and making my back arch off the bed, my fingers tightening in his hair as I whispered out his name under my breath.

He pulled back a little, chuckling as his hand moved from my thigh to press against my stomach, forcing my ass against the bed.

“You gonna try and stay still for me?” He asked, resting his head against my leg as his fingers dragged down my torso. He pressed the pads of his forefinger against my clit, applying a small amount of pressure that made me instantly eager for more. I nodded my head, feeling myself clench around nothing, and he slid his fingers toward my hole, eyebrows raising a touch as he commented, “Look how wet you are for me. You're fucking drenched and I’ve hardly touched you. Feeling a little pent-up?” His tone was playful, teasing, but the look in his eyes was anything but.

“Do you always talk this much?” I mumbled, wanting nothing more than to push myself against his face, needing to feel more contact. His fingers were nestled just inside of me, feeling the bare heat of my arousal coating the tips of his fingers.

“What, you don’t like it when I talk to you?” His fingers moved a little, making me let out an agitated whine when it wasn’t enough.

“Mickey-“

I was cut off by the sensation of two of his fingers plunging into me, the feeling making me gasp loudly, eyes fluttering closed as my head tipped back. I could practically see his smile behind my closed lids as he curled his fingers upward, his mouth attaching back to my clit and beginning to suck indulgently and making my pussy clench his fingers tightly.

“Fuck, d-don’t stop!” I begged him, trying to remember not to move, not to adjust myself or force him to apply any more pressure. He knew exactly what he was doing, somehow already knowing my body better than I knew it myself.

He pulled his lips back for a second just to mumble, “Think I’m gonna?” before the strong tip of his tongue danced over my aching clit again, making me let out another cry of pleasure.

My heels dug into his back as I whimpered and panted out his name, feeling the tightly wound coil in my stomach about to snap. He was right, I was more pent-up and stressed out than I’d realized, and Mickey’s fingers and tongue were already starting to make it melt away, twisting the agitation into pleasure and stripping the thoughts away and turning them into nothing short of ecstasy.

I knew I wouldn’t last long the first time he did this, but how fast I was about to fall apart was fucking ridiculous.

I felt his lips abandon my clit, but his fingers didn’t stop pumping and curling as he looked up at me, watching my chest heave and my stomach tighten, unable to stop myself from arching off the bed.

“Not yet, Dahli.” I heard his voice, heard his command, but I didn’t want to listen to him. I needed this, needed to feel this. I ignored him, so fucking close, and immediately felt his fingers abandon me.

“Y-you- why the f-fuck did you-“ I stumbled over my words pathetically, forehead creasing as I clenched helplessly around nothing.

“Trust me.” His voice was even, melodic as I lifted my head to glare down at him. I opened my mouth to protest, but when my eyes touched his face, fuck. He looked more beautiful than I’d ever seen him. His lips and chin glistened in the dull light flooding in from outside with my arousal, his eyes were dark and almost manic and his wet fingers were gripping my thigh tightly, “Beg me for it.”

I let out a confused laugh, heart still hammering in my chest as I questioned him, “B-beg you for it? I’m not gonna-“

“Do you want me to make you cum?” He asked, dropping my legs from his shoulders and making me frown at him again.

I nodded my head once.

Mickey’s fingers moved again, dipping inside of me then rubbing over my clit, using my wetness as lubricant and being nowhere near as gentle this time as he repeated his words again, smiling cockily as my mouth fell open with a loud moan.

“Beg. For. It.”

I was stubborn, but I’m only fucking human.

My legs were shaking, he used his other hand to push my thigh down until it hit the mattress as he used his fingers to rub over my pussy, the action making me twitch and groan like the pathetic mess he was turning me into, the one I didn’t know I was capable of being for anyone.

I obliged him without much more prompting.

“Please- please.” I whispered.

“What? Can’t hear you.” He bent his head down, licking up a long stripe from my ass to my clit, my body jolting sharply at the action as I cursed out loudly and begged again, “Please, please let me cum! I can’t- I can’t take it.” I rambled out pleas and begged him incessantly, on and on, a fucking broken record, until he smiled up at me, moving his hand to my other thigh and forcing my legs as far apart as I could manage.

“Only because you asked so nicely.” He said softly, and before I could respond, his mouth was attached to my clit and he sucked.

“Oh, fuck.” I practically shouted as his mouth and tongue attacked my clit, sucking forcefully and harshly, the pressure so good it was almost painful. It is that kind of burning sensation that makes it impossible to string together a sentence, that makes my eyes unfocus and numb tingling pins and needles radiate in my limbs. My hands yanked and pulled at his hair before finding his shoulders, my nails digging into his back and cutting into his soft flesh, making him hiss and moan against my throbbing cunt, urging him on to suck harder, his tongue dancing across me.

He pulled back for the briefest of moments to nod up at me before continuing, I took the nod as permission and I came. God, at long last I came, and I came harder than I ever had before on his face, almost sobbing out his name as my body shook and spasmed as I felt the coil completely snap and with it, me as well. Throat felt thick and heavy, eyes felt glassier and wetter than they should, hips moving the smallest amount, wringing out every single bit that I could on his mouth.

Mickey kept going, even after I tried pushing his head away. I felt his tongue move to dip into my cunt, practically drinking my juices as I continued to twitch and writhe under him and had to beg him to stop.

He did stop, when he was done, not when I wanted him to be. Something about it was so hot, the fact that even this act that was meant for my pleasure was still done in so many ways on his explicit terms, making me beg and not stopping until he had his fill. He was lifting his head from between my legs and smiling at me, not bothering to wipe his mouth before he crawled up on top of me, his lips attaching to mine. I moaned as I tasted myself on his tongue and mouth, unable to not notice how hard he was as he pressed himself against my thigh.

“Good girl, Dahli.” He said softly against my mouth, the praise making me preen from under him and press my bare core over his clothed erection. He let out a faltering grunt as I did so before pulling his head away, his hand coming up to press against my shoulder and push me into the bed. “Not tonight, I know you’re not ready.”

“I’m not,” I confirmed, my voice still trembling before I quickly added on, “But I want to… Help.”

His eyebrows furrowed a little before he caught on, eyes widening in realization.

“You really don’t have to, baby.” His forehead rested against mine as he spoke, and I could feel him against my bare pussy through his briefs, throbbing and hot. I knew I wanted to, I wanted to more than anything.

My shaking hands pushed against his shoulders and he moved off me, rolling onto his back, so I could move on top of him, my hands resting on his chest as I knelt over him, my knees either side of his thighs.

“Let me.” I insisted, and he raised his hands, palms up, and grinned up at me.

I wanted to return the favour. He made me feel the best I’d ever felt. I know he’d had more than his fair share of girls do this for him, but I didn’t care. I knew he cared about me, in his way anyway, and I knew how long it had been for him.

I edged down the bed, fingers tugging down his briefs quickly before I lost my confidence. He raised his hips to help me and I quickly discarded them to the side and my teeth bit down into my bottom lip as I sucked in an uneasy breath when I took him in.

It dawned on me that I’d never seen Mickey completely naked until that moment, and if I'm being honest I was mad that it had taken me this long, especially after seeing what he was packing.

Mickey was a solid seven inches, above average and slightly intimidating in terms of thickness. I knew not all dicks looked the same, just as not all pussies looked the same, but I doubted anyone in the world had one as pretty as his, not that I’d ever want to find out regardless.

“Are you okay?” I glanced up at him, he looked a little concerned. He sat up in my bed, leaning toward me and pressing his hand against my cheek gently, reiterating that I didn’t have to if I wasn’t ready.

I shook my head with a small smile, my hand moving up to press over his. “I want to.” I said softly, my other hand moving between us to gently grasp his length, laughing a little as he jumped at the feeling of my cold hands and I whispered, “I’m sorry,” before pressing my lips against his for a second.

He knew I was nervous, but guessed as to why incorrectly. I had no idea what I was fucking doing. He caught on fairly quickly, though, his back resting against my headboard and his hands moving to settle in my hair as I experimentally slid my hand upward from his base.

I heard his breath hitch, his fingers tightening a little, and I smiled, “Like that?”

He laughed a little, eyes fixed on my hand, and he nodded, “Yeah, like that. Don’t be scared to add a little pressure.”

I did so, flexing my fingers and silently relishing in the soft hum that left his mouth.

“Give me your hand.” He took my hand off him, bringing it to his mouth where he kissed my palm before licking it, from the bottom of my palm to the ends of my fingers while looking into my eyes, and carefully settling it back around his cock, nodding his head for me to continue.

Fuck, why was that so hot?

I wanted this now, more than before. I continued to gently pump his cock in my hand, watching his reactions carefully as his chest unsteadily rose and fell, and his hand fell out of my hair as he settled between his legs, still carefully moving my hand as I softly licked over his tip.

“Fuck.” He cursed under his breath and I couldn’t help but smile, feeling encouraged as I moved off the bed.

“What are you doing?” He asked curiously, eyes opening when he felt my hand leave him, adjusting himself, so he was now sitting on the bed with his feet on the floor, I dropped to my knees in front of him, eyes never leaving his as one of my hands rested on his thigh and the other held his length in my hand.

“I want to do this right. You’ll tell me if I'm doing it wrong, right?”

“Sweetheart, how many ways do you think there are to suck a dick? Do whatever feels right, don’t worry. I’ll talk you through it.” His eyes were dark, dripping with arousal. He felt painfully hard and hot in my hand, throbbing from lack of stimulation, and all I wanted was to make him feel as good as he’d made me feel.

I didn’t respond, instead tentatively taking him into my mouth, my hand sliding down to his base as I took in as much of him as I could. I hummed around his length, eyes open and watching his face as I slowly began to bob my head. I’d seen porn, I wasn’t entirely clueless. But this was completely different, and I was surprised to find how much I enjoyed feeling his pulsing, hot cock filling up my mouth.

“Jesus, fuck!” Mickey gasped out, hand falling into my hair and gripping it tightly. I felt him tense a little as my tongue made contact with his cock, and he said softly, “God, you look so fucking good right now. Grip it a little harder, it’s okay, you don’t have to be so gentle- fuck.”

His fingers pulled at my hair a little as I experimentally took him a little further, gagging softly as his dick touched the back of my throat. His hips unconsciously bucked, making me splutter a little around him, and he began apologizing, “Shit, Dahli, I’m sorry.”

I wanted to roll my eyes at him, here he was, telling me I didn’t have to be so gentle with him, and he was doing the same with me. I wasn’t glass, I wasn’t going to break.

I tried to get myself into a rhythm, my hand moving along with my mouth as he cursed a little, praising me as he told me, “Your mouth's so fucking hot, fuck baby.”

He was holding back, something he clearly wasn’t used to doing. I could tell, and I really didn’t want him to. I knew I was inexperienced, and I also knew that that knowledge is what turned him on even more, his hands were resting on my head, his eyes fixed on mine as I gradually grew more confident.

“It’s good, fuck. Relax your throat a little, breathe through your nose and- Oh, God.” I did as he told me, then being able to take him down my throat and make him tense as I did so. I gagged softly around his cock, my fingernails digging into his thigh as I did so.

He couldn’t seem to help himself, pushing my head down roughly while his head fell back, making me choke and splutter again as he took me by surprise.

“Shit, I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself, here I- I’ll- hands up here, see,” his hands left my hair, raising them as if in surrender. I wanted to laugh, but I just rolled my eyes up at him as he continued to talk, “-Just, Christ, please don’t fucking stop, your mouth is so-“

His voice trailed off as I continued to suck and squeeze my fingers around him, finally finding my pace as I took him eagerly down my throat, hollowing my cheeks and sucking slowly, from his base up to his leaking tip.

“You’ve done this before, fuck, you must have.” He commented, hands falling to rest on the mattress, “You don’t gotta rush, baby, take your time-“

It was obvious he was worried, I could tell by his strained tone that he was afraid of doing the wrong thing, afraid of pushing me too far. I also knew I was not giving the best head he’d ever had. But I knew him, I knew that because he cared about me, this was different for him, more intimate.

I pulled him from my mouth, looking up at him and saying, “Mickey, I’m fine, shut up,” before grabbing his hands and placing them back into my messed up hair, taking him back into my mouth hungrily, hearing him laugh down at me breathlessly.

He mumbled something I didn’t quite hear under his breath, something like, “Hungry little whore,” but I ignored him. I could feel him throbbing in my mouth, the taste of his pre-cum on my tongue as I continued to blow him, growing more and more confident by the second before he let out a loud grunt, beginning to slowly grind his hips against my mouth, halting when my nose touched his pubic bone.

I knew he was close.

“Fuck, Dahlia.” He whispered, hands holding onto my hair so hard it was a surprise he didn’t rip it out from the roots as he gasped out my name a few more times, his hips gently grinding against my face. Without warning, I felt the hot ribbons squirting into my mouth, filling it up rapidly with the salty taste. I reminded myself to breathe through my nose as he came, trying to swallow carefully, but some spills from around his cock and out my mouth, dribbling down my chin, my eyes beginning to sting with tears as he finished.

“Fuck, baby.” His hands let go of my hair and I pulled him out of my mouth, looking up at him proudly.

“Look at you, all proud of yourself.” Mickey’s voice was a little breathless as smiled down at me, his thumb wiping my cheeks and chin gently, “Come up here and kiss me.”

“But you just… you know, in my mouth.” I protested, struggling to my feet, so I could go and brush my teeth.

He rolled his eyes, pulling me to him by my hips as he mumbled, “Don’t fucking give a shit,” and pulled my head down to his, pressing his lips to mine roughly, his blunt fingers digging into my flesh. I moaned against his mouth, arms wrapping around his neck as he pulled me on top of him, my legs wrapping around his waist as his tongue swirled around my mouth hungrily, tasting himself and sighing softly before pulling back to look at me carefully, eyes still bright and almost manic.

“Are you okay?” He asked, his hand brushing some of my hair from my eyes as I nodded, a shameless grin on my face.

“I’m better than okay, Mickey.” I confirmed, pressing my forehead against his, “That was amazing.”

“It was.” He agreed, his eyes fluttering closed before he continued, “I’m glad I’m able to make you feel better.”

I hesitated for a moment, pulling back to look at his face, my hand trailing across his cheekbone. He hummed softly at the contact, eyes remaining closed and his fingers dancing across my back.

I think at that moment, I knew I loved Mickey. I knew just how much I adored him, craved him and just how far I’d be willing to go for him, but I didn’t say it.

Maybe it was a fear of not knowing if he loved me too, a part of me remaining scared and doubtful that any of this was real, so I kept my mouth shut.

Or maybe I was terrified that if I said it, it would be true, and I’d be opening myself up to have my heart completely shattered by the person who’d been the one to put it back together again.

[princesstillyenna]

Tilllyyyy,have you heard of chaotic orange cat energy? Bc that sums up about 2/3 of the GC

I mean, I hadn't, but the beauty of the internet is... I HAVE NOW Know Your Meme informs me that: Orange Cat Behavior and Orange Cats Share One Brain Cell refers to the widespread notion and cliche that orange (ginger) cats are more chaotic, more affectionate and more stupid than other types of cats. And I would like to propose an additional proposal, a kind of parallel if you will. This should answer why 2/3 (I would argue more) of the GC are like this... because I read that sentence and instantly replaced orange cats with hockey boys in my head. Hockey Boy Behavior and Hockey Boys Share One Brain Cell refers to the widespread notion and cliche that hockey (player) boys are more chaotic, more affectionate and more stupid than other types of boys.

Also as a complete aside to this. Imagine an AU in which Sidby Crosby adopts a particularly feral ginger cat. I say adopts. It turns up at his house occasionally. He feeds it. He slowly learns to love the feral ginger cat. It also weirdly occasionally shows up when he's representing team canada and he freaks out at the concept that the cat stowed away in his suitcase even though he checked three times before he left. The first time he showed up at Sid's house in cat-form it was honestly an accident. Because he likes to go strolling the neighbourhoods at night. Sue him. He's a cat. He doesn't have legal representation. The second and third times it was because he discovered that this is a particularly good way to troll Sidney Crosby. And then... well... it's just.... Sid buys the GOOD cat food ok, none of this store brand stuff. And his behind-the-ear skritches? Incomparable. So after that, he just kind of... hangs around? It's not a problem anyway, it's a perfectly fine arragement. As long as Sid never finds out that his adopted ginger tom-cat is secretly Claude Giroux, everything will be completely fine.

[oddcryptidwrites]

Incorrect Quotes Tag Game

@imslowlydisintegrating tagged me in this one and I'm tagging @thetruearchmagos @theglitchywriterboi and @the-down-upside-finch (and whoever else wants to play! No pressure!)

Rules: Use this incorrect quote generator to generate some incorrect quotes using characters from your WIP!

For this one, I'll give you some Council shenannigans from NYTF

Councilor Johnson: If I run and leap at Councilor Adel, they will most certainly catch me in their arms. Councilor Johnson, running towards Councilor Adel: Coming in! Councilor Adel: No! I’m holding coffee! Councilor Adel: Drops coffee and catches Councilor Johnson

---

Monarch Hall: If you could guess, how many brain cells do you have? Councilor Mason: Dorito’s cool ranch. Monarch Hall: Monarch Hall: I'm just gonna assume zero for now. Councilor Mason: I love that song.

---

Councilor Green, tearing up the room: Where are they? Councilor Green, looking under a pillow: Who moved them? Who moved my children? Councilor Green: Somebody moved my M&M's, and now I am going to start killing.

---

Councilor Meghan: Does immaturely insulting me make you feel better about your sad single life? Councilor Miles: It actually does.

---

Councilor Mason: Do you cook? Monarch Hall: I made a cake once. Councilor Johnson: Yeah, it was good. Monarch Hall: Really? Councilor Johnson: Don’t make me lie twice, Monarch Hall.

---

Councilor Miles: You’re alive. Monarch Hall: No need to sound so disappointed.

---

Monarch Hall: What are you doing here? Councilor Miles: I could ask you the same question. Monarch Hall: I live here. This is my house. Councilor Miles: I should probably ask you a different question.

---

Councilor Mason: Is it just me or is instant ramen even better uncooked? Councilor Green: It’s just you.

---

Monarch Hall: I love hearing Councilor Miles shouting at someone else. It makes such a nice change.

---

Monarch Hall: Hey, do you know anyone who can teach me to play the trumpet? Councilor Sidney: Why? Monarch Hall: I want to wander around playing it to annoy Councilor Mason. Councilor Sidney: Technically, you don’t actually need to know how to play the trumpet well for that. Monarch Hall: Councilor Sidney, you have opened my eyes.

---

Monarch Hall: What do you guys do when you're stressed? Councilor Meghan: Try and calm myself down! Councilor Green: Sleep. Councilor Miles: Get myself into even more stress, so that the first reason for my stress gets cancelled out. Councilor Adel: I don't.

---

Councilor Johnson: The ritual. To preform it requires a sacrifice. Councilor Sidney: Sacrifice? I nominate Councilor Miles. Councilor Miles: Wait, what? Councilor Sidney: Because you're little, you'll fit on a barbecue. Councilor Miles: I'm 5'9, it's like average height in most of the world! Councilor Johnson: Its not that kind of of sacrifice guys!

---

Councilor Meghan: There. How do I look? Councilor Adel: Like a cheap French harlot. Councilor Meghan: French?!

---

Monarch Hall: Good. Thanks, dad. Councilor Adel: You just called Councilor Johnson “dad”. You just said “thanks, dad.” Monarch Hall: What? No, I didn’t. I said “thanks, man”. Councilor Johnson: Do you see me as a father figure, Monarch Hall? Monarch Hall: No. If anything I see you as a bother figure ‘cause you’re always bothering me. Councilor Johnson: Hey! Show your father some respect!

---

Councilor Mason: pitches an idea Councilor Meghan, impressed: Huh, there might be something here! Monarch Hall, under their breath: Yeah, a lawsuit.

---

Councilor Johnson: Why would I flip my shit about that? Councilor Adel: Because you flip your shit about everything. Councilor Johnson: Well, will you look at this. Here is my shit, and yet it remains unflipped. Just sitting there on the skillet, getting burned on one side. It’s a miracle.

[ao3feed-hockey]

why'm I so tired in this bubble

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/PEYrasJ

by squidsquadlove (helens78)

Nate wouldn't have thought he'd be so grouchy and resentful about getting back to hockey, but this doesn't feel like the real thing. He doesn't need the crowds, though he does miss them, but being cut off from everyone but the team-- and not even being allowed to hang out, really, having to stay as isolated as possible-- it's just not right.

Plus, he spends every second he can napping, which is awful. But he's exhausted, and even his annoying need to pee in the afternoons before game time doesn't keep him awake; he just wakes up with a full bladder and stumbles into the bathroom, usually bumping himself on a wall or the doorframe on the way.

Pandemic hockey kind of sucks.

Words: 3024, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 3 of Heat In The Time Of Coronavirus

Fandoms: Men's Hockey RPF

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: M/M

Characters: Sidney Crosby, Nathan MacKinnon, Erik Johnson (Hockey RPF)

Relationships: Sidney Crosby/Nathan MacKinnon

Additional Tags: 2020 NHL Playoffs Bubble, Accidental Pregnancy, Mpreg, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, mentions of abortion as an option, hockey men and their one collective brain cell

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/PEYrasJ

[incorrect-penguins]

Sidney Crosby: Please could you go to the shop and get a carton of milk, if they have avocados get six.

Evgeni Malkin, coming back from the store with six cartons of milk: They had avocados!

[twenty-orange-balloons]

I call BS on the Scream ending. If Stu and Billy really watched all those horror movies and even knew the Do’s and Don’t’s/Rules of Horror movie tropes, Then they would know to make sure everyone was dead. All it would take is a shot or stab to the heart/head or a slash to the throat. And they could have killed both Sidney and her dad Before they injured each other. There was absolutely no need for them to hurt each other first. WHY DID THEY STAB EACH OTHER FIRST!?!? They could have gotten away with it if they just killed everyone first! They planned everything else out but fucked up that ONE POINT!?! What the fuck guys. You were doing so well.

[carolinahope]

I watched the first four episodes of Alert: Missing Persons Unit. Pretty much just because of Scott. Though the premise is not bad. But the execution is a weird mix of ridiculous and frustrating. 

The characters:

I really like Mike. He is pretty much the only one with a brain cell. He may seem boring in comparison to the others but he is the only one actually doing his job.

Kemi is a great character. But maybe in a different show. Because burning sandal wood in a government building and rubbing freaked out parents of missing kids with eggs is just, too much. But on it’s own the character is really great. She could have worked on this show as well but I’m afraid that ship has sailed. 

Jason is an interesting character. He at least feels grounded for most parts. Though some of his investigation methods leave a lot to be desired. Scott is doing a good job but he deserves so much better. 

Nikki I have the most issues with. She is Steve McGarrett a little to the left. Making promises she can’t possibly keep. Reckless. Thinking rules apply only to the others. She has a catch phrase which might seem annoying but it’s something I can understand as a morale booster for her and I’m OK with that. Really, it’s the least questionable part of her character. 

I really like Sidney. Fivel is doing a great job and she looks so much like Booboo. 

Not-Keith is intriguing. This part of the show is probably the only reason I might watch episode 5. Graham is doing an amazing job with him. 

The first thee episodes were watchable. Though I hate the love triangle and while Mike can definitely do better if Jason and Nikki get together I’m throwing in the towel, Scott or no Scott. 

But the fourth episode was just too much. Their methods were questionable at all times but here, to just straight up lie and play on the moral authority who decided who gets to be punished and who not? And that Mike, the one who was right, was made up to be the bad guy? Yeah, most of the US cop shows are tone-deaf to the extreme but this one is taking the cake. 

I will watch the fifth episode because I’m kinda invested in the not-Keith reveal but the investigation part is just a bad joke. 

[wolfanddragon98]

Me and My 2AM Thoughts...

Okay guys. Hear me out and my dramatic ass brain that is constantly thinking about the ‘what if’ scenarios for Hear You, Seek You. Imagine if Billy and Stu were caught by the police in the final act. How much would their arrest affect the plot?

They would most likely be treated as adults at the trial and ultimately sentenced to death (I think we talked about this before) just like Cotton was. One might say that Billy’s dad could help them out, considering that he’s a lawyer and probably has some good connections to some great defence attorneys but let’s be real, I doubt Hank would have his son’s back after hearing about that atrocities that he and his friend have committed. Would he feel guilty considering that Billy killed, due to Hank’s infidelity that caused his mother to leave them? I’m sure he would. But would he support him? Personally, I don’t see it happening.

Them going for the insanity plea would be totally useless, given the fact that their murders were clearly well thought out and premeditated. Death sentence is simply inevitable. But let’s be real some criminals wait years and I mean YEARS for their execution when they’re on the death row. So if we’re being logical they would still live a relatively long life behind bars, which means that they would most likely live to see (or rather hear) about the copycat murders. What would they think about them? Would Mrs. Loomis still go after Sidney, Randy and Scarlett? Her sole reason for coming after the survivors of the Woodsboro Massacre in the first place was because she lost her son. So…would this still apply in this scenario? Would she go after them because in her eyes they have ruined his son’s future and now he’s wasting away in prison? If Windsor College murders are still a go how would Billy react to his mother’s death? What about Roman? Would he risk making his own murder spree trilogy? Billy knows that he exists, so wouldn’t he be afraid that he would spill the beans to the police? He’s sentenced with Stu to be executed and therefore he has nothing to lose. In fact, it’s plausible that Billy would think that by ratting him out to the police he could gain something valuable. Maybe information about Scarlett whereabouts, perhaps longer visitation hours with his mother (total momma’s boy) or simply a better treatment in prison.

Am I also insane for wanting a girl-boss moment with Scarlett where she visits them in prison years after the murders? It would be a symbolic way of her finally closing the chapter. She visits them days prior to their executions (maybe Randy and Sidney are there too for their own reasons), looks them straight in the eye and tells them that while they wasted their years in confined cells, she thrived and will continue to thrive.

Would Sam find the strength to visit her father (to face her inner demons)? Would Billy even entertain the idea of her visitations? I doubt Hank would visit him, Mrs. Loomis would see him 100% but who does he have left if she dies? Christina? Would she tell him that they have a kid together? What about Stu’s family? Would he be cut off from them completely? He has a nephew doesn’t he? How would he react to Vince’s death? Would he think that he’s to some extent responsible, considering that the killings have started with him and Billy? Would there be any guilt?

I also have this crazy thought that Jamie and Wes could have possibly visited them without Scarlett and Randy knowing about it in the newest Scream. Maybe when the murders are taking place again Jamie tells Wes that perhaps it would be a good idea to talk to the original killers because they could have some theories in regards to who might be the new killer(s). Wes would probably think that it’s not the best idea (what can I see he’s worried for Jamie’s safety), but knowing Jamie’s stubborn nature she wouldn’t let it go, so he would go with her because he would hate the idea of Jamie being in the presence of convicted killers (even if they’re separated by a glass wall). How would Billy and Stu react to the fact that Scarlett and Randy’s daughter is visiting them? They probably heard that they have a daughter but would they be able to tell that it’s actually her? Would they try to help or would the trip be useless? Knowing Billy he would probably try to drag things along (because he’d be curious of Jamie and would want to spend as much time with her) and would leave things on a cliffhanger so Jamie and Wes would have no choice but to visit them again.

And...that is it for now. I swear I’m not on any drugs. It’s just that whenever I read a story my mind is coming up with thousands of different scenarios of ‘what ifs’. Anyway thank you for listening to my TED talk and I would love to hear what you guys think. xx

[saleintothe90s]

462. Daily Press, July 1, 1992

I'm trying to remember, I think this became a Proffit's department store by the next Summer.

Back when Wal*Mart was simpler times.

Wait. Hold up. WalMart would close at 9:30 back in 1992?! AND AT SIX PM ON SUNDAYS. I thought by the time we got this Walmart in the early 90s in Hampton, Walmart was running 24/7.

Phar-Mor was trying so hard to be lil Kmart or lil WalMart back then. They had so much drama with the way the place was ran I need to get into it soon. Here's just a quick summary from Tedium. Our store was near the mall, so mom never ventured over there, citing that area as "too busy".

I remember OW! I mean, we never went in there because I was 9, but I remember driving by it. The sign always made me uncomfortable because it was just a giant O and a giant W. Like the word "ow!" OW did not last long. It was a spinoff of the HQ hardware stores which I've mentioned before.

I found their logo! From an April 16, 1990 newspaper .

Four days later, there was this advertisment about the remaning stores becoming Office Max:

Here was our cell phone technology in 1992.

I didn't know we got the cardinal and mountain plates so early! I thought they were more from 1995.

Wait, is the "expandable free jug" the burp jug?!

Back in the Summer of 2008, I was about five seconds to a complete nervous breakdown. Well, this was around the time that my mom would watch American Justice every morning, I think they're the ones that Bill Kurtis would do the voiceovers for. So you know, that was absolutely GREAT for my messed up brain. The episode about the kidnapping of Exxon executive Sidney Reso really messed me up. After being shot and kidnapped from his driveway in April of 1992, he was locked in a small box in a storage unit. He died five days later and his body was dumped in a park. Irene received a 20 year sentence while her husband Arthur received a 90 year sentence. Hearing their disguised voices will send shivers down your spine.

Of all the cars to seal in Hampton, why an Isuzu I-Mark. For reference, this is an I-Mark, my mom drove it's copycat, the Chevrolet Spectrum at this time:

wikimedia commons

three.hundred.dollar.rollerblades, I mean Bauers.

I'm with S.M, I'd be mad as hell if I didn't have my Cathy. I've actually begun re-reading the strip again recently.

via GIPHY

OH MY GOD IT'S HAPPENING. The fist time jump in Funky Winkerbean history.

So, finally in the early Summer of 1992, the kids at Westview High finally graduate, and the strip jumps four years later to see them as straight out of college adults -- thus making them graduate in 1988 instead of 1992. Got that?

Too Legit to Quit? Really? How do you do, fellow kids?

This was part of some strange celebrity news insert I guess Daily Press did back then. This was here too:

welp, here's a kid playing with cockroaches with Ross Perot's face on it.

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[theplanetprince]

When I imagine the five man band phantom team it's always

Danny- leader main character

Tucker- lancer, technical skills

Sam- strong one, archeologist and folk lore researcher.

I think like the show Sam and Tucker share the brain cell. So theres not really a defacto smart one. I feel like they all have their own areas of expertise.

Jazz and Dash act as the staple on-s to make the band complete. Most of their narrative weightlifting is done by being the team healers and the emotional core of the team and settling disputes between the trio.

And Wes and Val occasionally chip in against a larger threat when theyre not strong enough individually. Val and Wes are ghost hunters, Val being the more technically/physically competent of the two whereas Wes deals with threats in a Kevin Mccalster home alone cerebral and strategy way. These two will occasional green-ranger their way into the main cast when they realize that "oh shit maybe we were the bad guys."

Sidney Poindexter and Mr Lancer act as mentor figures and are generally too weak to fight but theyre not afraid to.

[storiesbymads]

THIS BIKINI’S MADE FORE DANCING (AND HITTING THE FLOOR)³ ( sun kissed desires . )

Y/N finds herself on the lovers cruise she was supposed to be on with her fiancé—ex-fiancé—when she meets a single man in the suite right next to hers.

warnings: smut

add yourself to the taglist + series masterlist

Your morning ventures ended with probably the best mid morning nap you’d ever had in your life. You woke up without a headache, thankfully, and with the way you’d guzzled the water bottle on your nightstand before you’d crashed out, you felt halfway ready to take on the world.

You dug through your duffel bag in an attempt to find one of the twelve bathing suits you’d packed three days ago. Hopefully you’d packed your cute ones, you’d been in such a rush you honestly had no idea what all was in your bag or if anything really matched. Finally, you found a black set at the bottom that was simple enough that it wouldn’t require too many of your brain cells to put on, still being kinda sleepy and everything.

Finding your way to the pool was easy, considering it was in the dead center of the boat. You were surprised to see the number of kids sitting around the edge of the pool when you got down there, feet dangling in the chlorine filled liquid. You glanced down at the phone in your hand to see the time. 12:08. Adult Swim.

You crossed the short expanse of wooden walkway over to the lounge chairs, dropping your few belongings onto the small table beside the single free one you could find before covering your phone and key card with the towel you’d just barely remembered to bring down so the sun wouldn’t wreak too much havoc on them. The chair was surprisingly more comfortable than it looked when you situated yourself on it.

The sound of a whistle sent your head snapping in the direction of the pool only to see a few dozen kids jumping into the water as the few adults scrambled to get out in time.

And, of course, your eyes found Sidney’s in record time. God, how could one man be so pretty? The fact that he was practically dripping wet didn’t help, either.

He had a pair of teal swim trunks on, oddly enough, and they seemed to cling to everything as he climbed out of the water. To you, it felt like he was moving in slow motion, but it probably only took him about thirty seconds before he was walking in your direction. No. Right. To. You.

He shook his head slightly as he did so, attempting to conceal the grin making its way onto his face. God, he’s cute, too.

“Fancy meeting you here,” he said, louder than the other times you’d spoken with him—you gave that up to the fact that you were outside. He’d still yet to adjust his swim trunks and the tent in them seemed to be staring you right in the eyes.

“Hey, you’re the one that came up to me,” you scoffed dismissively. Sidney just cleared his throat in response, nodding toward his belongings in the seat next to yours. The only thing separating his belongings from yours was the tiny metal table, and even that was covered in your personal items. “Oh.”

“Oh,” he mocked lightly. He opted to sit on the edge of your chair rather than take the last two steps towards his own, the warm skin of his thigh brushing against your own. The barely there touch sent tingles up your spine. You couldn’t imagine what having all of him pressed up against you would feel like.

He picked his hand up off the plastic of the chair, hesitating slightly and letting it rest in the air above your leg for a second too long, before letting his rough fingers meet the smooth skin.

“I’ve been thinking,” he started. “About your offer earlier.”

Your breath hitched in the back of your throat as his hand trailed higher up your thigh, dangerously close to the flimsy bow holding the fabric together.

“M-my offer?” you stuttered out.

“Are you sober...” he trailed off, tongue darting out to wet his lips. He was fiddling with the nylon string at this point.

“Y/N,” you hummed out a response. “And, yes. Took a nap and everything.”

“Good,” he said before abruptly getting up so that he could collect his things from his own chair. Your skin felt cold without his touch despite the scalding heat you were being exposed to. He turned back around as he shoved his phone into his still damp pocket, “C’mon, pretty girl. We don’t have all day.”

You practically jumped up from your seat to grab your things, in spite of a chuckling Sidney behind you.

The walk to the lobby happened in what felt like half a second and before you knew it, Sidney had you pressed up against the outside of his room door. Maybe being on the first floor wasn’t such a bad thing.

His hips were pressing into yours, his fingers were bruising against your waist, and his lips. They were everywhere. You don’t even remember when he’d started kissing you, you just know you didn’t ever want him to stop.

He pulled away just enough to leave you panting and chasing his lips.

“I gotta open the door,” he whispered, lips grazing yours as he did so. The door clicked seconds later which allowed the two of you to slip inside only for Sidney to halfway shove your against the other side of the door the second it closed. Your palms fell flat against his exposed chest, slipping lower and lower as the moments passed until you were thumbing the hemline of his shorts.

“Please,” you whimpered out.

“Please, what?” he asked.

“Just. Please,” you answered. His hand found the tie to your top in a matter of seconds, undoing it slowly before repeating the process with the one around your neck and letting it fall to the floor between you.

His lips attached to the column of your throat as his fingers traced the edges of your bottoms. His mouth moved lower and lower until he was circling your left nipple with his tongue.

Stopping suddenly, he rose back up to his full height, motioning for you to jump with two taps on your hip as he lifted it to his waist. He carried you across the short expanse of his room, dropping you on the recently made up comforter of his bed.

“You’re so beautiful, you know that?” he mumbled before reattaching his lips to yours. He tasted like heaven. There was a faint mint flavor that you chalked up to being his toothpaste mixed with the distinct taste of Minute Maid lemonade and a sweet tea brand you couldn’t identify.

His clothes cock rutted against your core, sending flickers of the sight of him getting out of the pool glittering through your mind again. Those swim trunks left nothing to the imagination.

He shifted lower over your body, tugging your bikini bottoms down in one swift motion and quite literally tossing them over his shoulder.

“Look at you,” he praised. “So pretty and pink and wet for me. You’re dripping all over my sheets, pretty girl.”

One of his digits slipped between your folds, spreading the wetness around as he circled your clit with the pad of his finger.

“I think you’re a little-“ you cut yourself off with a moan when he slipped the finger inside you. “Overdressed.”

“Patience,” he said, inserting another finger into your hole. He curled his fingers in a scissoring motion, eliciting a high pitched gasp to fall from your lips. His thumb quickly found your clit which sent your eyes rolling straight into the back of your head.

“Oh my God,” you whimpered.

“Look at me,” he said. You ignored his comment, head hitting the pillow underneath you only for his movements to stop. “Look at me.”

Your eyes snapped back open.

“I want to see your eyes when you come on my cock,” he said, pulling his fingers from you so that he could shove the teal shorts down his legs just enough for his dick to slap against his stomach.

He grabbed a condom out of his wallet on the nightstand, ripping the packaging open with his teeth before rolling it down the length of his dick.

“Fuck me,” you groaned out as he lined his tip up with your entrance.

“I was planning on it,” he exhaled. He didn’t even give you a second to respond before he pushed in halfway.

“Holy fuck, you’re huge,” you said, unintentionally clenching around him. He shuddered before fully bottoming out.

“And you’re incredibly tight,” he said. It didn’t take him long to find his pace as his hands molded bruises into the sides of your hips.

His lips found your neck soon after, running his teeth lightly along the top of your collarbone as your hands found his hair. You would’ve commented on the softness of it if you had a coherent thought in your head. But all you could think about was the burning pleasure building in the pit of your stomach.

“I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum-“ you repeated like a mantra until your orgasm washed over you like a tidal wave.

“I’m right behind you,” he said, hips snapping into yours at an even faster rate. He lasted about two more thrusts before you felt him still inside you. He stayed there for a moment before he pulled out and made his way to the bathroom to dispose of the condom.

The thoughts started rushing into your head before the post-orgasm bliss even had the time to fully wear off. You couldn’t believe you’d just done that. Sure, he was gorgeous and, sure, he was practically the most gorgeous man you’d ever laid eyes on. But you were gonna be stuck living next door to him for the next two weeks.

You were already off the bed and grabbing your things from where they’d been dropped at the door—something you didn’t remember doing in the first place—when you heard Sidney turn the shower on. You had your bikini back on before his eyes hit you again.

“You can join me, if you want,” he said as he watched you scramble around his room from where he was leant up against the ensuite’s door frame.

“As much as I would love to do that, I’ve gotta get going,” you said, throwing open the room door and letting it shut before he could get another word out.

You had other things on your plate, anyway. Current mission: find Sigma. She might not be your best friend in the world, at least, yet, but you needed to tell someone about what just happened.

And judging by the way you’d scrounged what felt like the entire ship at this point—not really, you really only checked like three, very public areas—your mission was proving more impossible than you would’ve liked. Then, when you thought all hope was lost, you remembered the teensy tiny little tidbit of information she’d given you this morning when you were in six mimosas. She was staying in Room 215.

“Y/N! How unexpected,” Sigma said as she opened up her door wide enough to let you in. Her southern charm was seeping through every word and it really was no wonder how she’d already gotten married at 23.

You saw a man laying on the bed, thankfully, fully clothed with a remote control laying on his stomach. You heard a woman’s voice coming from the TV and what sounded like a murder documentary.

Sigma was ushering you out onto her balcony before you had time to really search her and husband’s room any further.

“What’s this surprise visit all about? I thought you’d gotten of me this morning,” she said as the two of you sat in the bolted down, metal chairs out there.

“You know that really hot guy in the room next to mine,” you said.

“No,” she exhaled. Maybe you’d forgotten to mention that this morning. Course, you barely remembered anything you’d mentioned this morning.

“Well,” you started. “There’s a really hot guy in the room right next to mine. And I may or may not have just hooked up with him.”

“You’re kidding!” she gasped.

“I almost wish I was,” you groaned, pulling your knees up to your chest.

“Was it that bad?” she asked with a wince. You looked over at her with a dumbfounded look on your face.

“It was the best sex I’ve had in my life,” you said.

“So, what’s the issue?”

“I don’t know. He’s kinda like my neighbor for right now, and somehow we manage to bump into each other everywhere we go. I just don’t want things to be even more uncomfortable for me on this stupid boat.”

“Honey.”

“I know, I know. It’s dumb,” you sighed. “I’m just not ready to get involved with another guy. Not after what happened with Max,” you said.

“Look, sweetheart. You’re never gonna find someone if you don’t give yourself the chance to open up. And who says this whole thing with your supah hot guy has to go any further than it has. I say if you get the chance, go for it.”

“Get the chance?”

“To have sex again! According to you, it was the best sex, like, ever.”

The next twenty minutes went on like that until Sigma’s husband practically forced her to go back inside and get ready for something. You took that as your cue to leave.

You were glad you’d gone to find her today. As weird as a start that you’d had for your friendship, she was probably one of the easiest people you’d ever had the opportunity of talking to.

The walk back to your room was quick. That was when you realized the only item you currently had in your possession was your phone. And not your key card. You knew you’d had it before the incident with Sidney and you were sure you’d grabbed everything on your way out of Sigma’s room. Which left one option. It was still on Sidney’s floor.

Sighing, you dropped your head in defeat, walking the two steps it took so that you were face to face with the wooden door you were pressed up against over an hour ago. Your hand hovered in the air until you worked up enough courage to actually knock.

“Here for this?” he asked, holding up the white card in one hand after he opened the door just wide enough to see you.

“Yes, thank you,” you said, reaching out to grab it from him only for him to pull it back, inches from your grip.

“You could’ve just gone to the front desk,” he said.

“I-“ you started. “Forgot that was an option.”

“Why are you always wet when we see each other?” you asked with an eye roll as the door swung open.

“Actually, I distinctly remember you being equally as wet when we met earlier,” he said.

“You’re insufferable,” you scoffed.

“And you’re adorable,” he said before actually handing over the key.

“Says the guy that takes hour long showers,” you said.

“I got a little preoccupied.”

“Uh-huh,” you hummed.

“You sure you have to go to your room?” he asked, tantalizingly slow, allowing his words to hang heavy in the air around you as his tongue slipped past his lips. Your eyes stayed glued to the water droplet running down his throat.

“I guess-“

“Well, come on then. Wouldn’t want you getting cold out there, pretty girl,” he said, the hand still holding your key card clasping around your wrist as he pulled you into his chest, and consequently, back into his room.

tags @kiedhara @thefootballfaithful @stuetzlesumlaut @penstxgal1968 @linkingdolans @englishmuffinwritesbooks @mrsvech37 @honeybearbarzal @burningbiatch @hannabritta @monalicia @mymanshawn @butgilinsky @pierreslucdubois @damndunner @klutchnetsov @stampiej @punkharts @heatherawoowoo

[fallinallincurls]

for husband, one night stand and best friend how about sidney, mat and tyler 🥺😘😌💗

this is surprisingly easy wow (and thank you for sending this in)!!

husband: sidney!! can’t exactly tell you why, but doing life with him and all the domestic parts seems like the absolute sweetest and he is just very good husband material

one night stand: tyler! although he’s so great, i feel like a one night stand would both be perfect because it would probably be amazing but he would be the easiest to let go

best friend: BARZY!! 100%! he is just so fun and crazy that i’d love to have him as a best friend! like he might only have ten brain cells but they’re FUN brain cells and life would never be boring if he’s your bff

[myhockeyworld87]

Not So Dangerous Liaison - Sidney Crosby - Part 3

Word Count: 2,340

POV: Reader than switches to Sid

Warnings: Language

Notes: I had planned on this being a bit longer but with everything that happened I didn’t get to write as much as I want. Also this was kind of unplanned, but since everyone wanted a prank included I decided to write it in. Hope you guys enjoy!

Not So Dangerous Liaison Masterlist

You stood there wracking your brain trying to figure out what you had done or said that first night you met Sidney Crosby. He'd done a full one-eighty in twenty-four hours on you. When you'd left the party you actually thought, that there was quite possibly something between the two of you, but since then it was painfully obvious that he'd changed his mind. It was never more evident than in this moment right now when he clearly could've cared less about the snacks and extras that you'd had delivered to his room, let alone the book you'd left. His simple, 'oh yeah, thanks,' made it evident that he just tolerated you and your job with the team.

 You knew it was going to be hard with him. It was part of the reason why you added the book on Egyptian history for him, hoping that it would sort of be a peace offering, or at least some common ground for you both. If he didn't appreciate that, he was surely going to hate the one on ancient Rome that would be waiting for him in D.C. It was too late now, you weren't going to not send it. If anything it only strengthened your resolve to somehow get yourself and Sid to at least be friends, since there would obviously never be anything more.

 The following morning you headed on the bus with the team to the arena for morning skate, where everything went great. You began to see why the guys took naps in the afternoon, as their schedule was super demanding. As you headed back on the bus, for the game, you didn't expect Tanger, to grab the seat next to you. "So, how are things going so far?"

 "Really good I think." It was true all the guys had been super nice and so receptive to all that you'd been doing for the team, well everyone except Sid. You chose not to get into that with Tanger though, so instead, you added. "Unless you've heard something different?" It seemed like a smart way to see about Sid's indifference, without flat out asking him how Sidney felt about your new role.

 "God, no. Everyone loves you. You really outdid yourself with the little care packages. We all appreciated them." Well, not everyone.

 "Just trying to do my part and make the trip a little easier for you guys."

 "Speaking of that. I was wondering if I could ask a favor." He ran a hand through his hair as if he was nervous, which seemed silly since you'd known Tanger for a while now.

 "Sure, that's my job you know. I'm here to be helpful."

 "Well, this is kind of personal. Alex's birthday is coming up and…well Catherine always does the shopping and comes up with something over the top for him. I was hoping that this time, maybe I'd have some great suggestion to give her. Obviously, I suck though, because I can't think of a damn thing."

 "Oh, I can totally help with that." You took out your phone as the bus pulled into the arena, everyone filing out to get ready for the game. "Let me see what I can come up with and I'll get back to you."

 "Yeah, that would be great." You followed Tanger off the bus, then went about a few odds and ends that you started helping the staff with. It was probably about forty-five minutes later that he found you again.

 "Hey (Y/N), I had this awesome idea about Alex's birthday present."

 "Oh yeah, what were you thinking." You asked as you made your way over to the locker room where Tanger was standing. He opened the door for you to come in. You tended to avoid going into the room unless it was necessary, not that you couldn't. Social media was in there all the time filming things, so it wouldn't be like you were the only female in there. It just seemed like a line you weren't ready to cross yet; though at the moment you had no choice but to follow him.

 As you gazed around the room, you had to appreciate the way Dana Heinze and his guys made the locker room feel more like home. Each stall had a nameplate on it, and the Pens emblem was placed throughout the room. Most of the guys were in there, prepping for the game. They didn't even take notice that you were there. "Tanger, you're up." Hollered Chris, one of the team trainers.

 "Shit, can you grab my phone out of my bag. I saved it in there." You wandered over to where his bag sat. It still amazed you how they lugged all this equipment around. You had a feeling it was going to be a challenge to find a cell phone in the damn thing with how big it was. Crouching down, you pulled the zipper back the whole way to shed some light into the black piece of luggage. That's when Marc-Andre popped out with a loud roar.

 "Jesus Christ!" You screamed stumbling back, as your heel caught on some random piece of equipment on the floor. You would've landed flat on your ass if it hadn't been for someone grabbing you around the waist and holding you tight against their body. Even though you'd literally just been scared half to death, you somehow felt safe in this person's arms; like nothing bad could happen to you as long as he was around. It was a bad feeling to have considering this was a new job, and you didn't need to be developing feelings for a player. You took another minute to just absorb the feeling of being in this person's arms, as well as catch your breath.

 He must have heard or felt your deep intake of breath, for the next thing you knew he was saying. "It's ok. I got you." You knew that voice, well you honestly knew all the guys' voices; you just weren't used to be held in their embrace. When you looked back, Sid's brown eyes were staring into yours. They were filled with concern, and well something else, desire. You could see it in his eyes as much as you were sure that yours reflected the same. It was dangerous territory and there was no exploring it as the whole team had their eyes on you.

 "Thanks," you said righting yourself. You turned your full attention to Flower than. "What the hell, Flower! You just scared the crap out of me." You were laughing along with the rest of the room now, and Marc-Andre had the biggest smile on his face.

 "Welcome to the team." He said coming over and giving you a big hug. "You're not an official member until we prank you."

 "Oh my god, you should've seen your face." Horny came up and embraced you as well. "It was priceless."

 "I got it all on video too," Tanger said holding his phone up, that you were suppose to be looking for.

 "Wait…you guys were all in on this?" You looked around the room and about half the guys were nodding their head.

 "We do it to all the new guys. Couldn't leave you out." Most of the guys came over and gave you a hug, saying that you were a good sport about things.

 "You do realize I know where all of you sleep right? And I will get you back." You shot back with a little laugh before exiting the locker room. "Now get your asses ready or we'll see who scared of who." The moment you shut the door, you leaned against it heavily to stop your racing heart. To anyone else, it would look as though you were still recovering from having the wits scared out of you, but what you couldn't get over was the feeling of being held in Sidney's arms and the look in his eyes.

 All this time you thought he was indifferent to you, but that look told you otherwise. You could still feel his hands wrapped around; it was like an imprint that couldn't be wiped away. There were so many things going through your brain at the moment, and yet this wasn't the place or time to think about it. You pushed away from the door, just as it opened; startling you once again.

 "Hey (Y/N)," thankfully it was Tanger's voice and not the man who was at the forefront of your mind. "I don't need that present for Alex, Catherine has it covered." You rolled your eyes at him, you should've known that was part of the prank. He just shrugged his shoulders at you. "I had to sell it, didn't I?" You took a towel and threw in his face before, heading down the hallway to get back to work.

 SID'S POV

 What the hell had just happened? No one had told him they were going to prank (Y/N), for if they had he would've advised against it, but damn had the timing been right for her to literally fall in your arms. When she'd walked into the locker room, you couldn't breathe. It seemed like every time there was a game, the woman dressed in something to tantalize your dreams. There was nothing left to do but walk out of the locker room and get some air. That's when you had the misfortune or fortune as it were, to be in the perfect spot to catch her as Marc-Andre scared her.

 Her body fit perfectly to yours, as your arms came around her mid-section to steady her. Your forearm had brushed the underside of her breast and just that small contact alone had you yearning for more. There was an undeniable spark between the two of you at that moment, and when she turned to look at you; you knew she felt it too. At least she had the sense to recover because right now you didn't give a damn that there was a game to be played in an hour. You wanted nothing more than to haul her off to some dark secluded corner and kiss her senseless.

 The thoughts running through your head were pure madness. You shouldn't be thinking about the things you wanted to do to her body or how you wanted to know what she felt like under those layers of clothing. You needed to pull yourself together, you had sixty minutes of hockey and a team that needed your attention. So, when Rusty called out to see if you were playing soccer that's what you decided you needed to do to get your mind off of (Y/N).

 Three hits into the warmup ritual, you were still thinking about her. Only this time it was about the last game and how she'd touched your hat and brought you good luck. That superstitious side of yours, kept an eye out for her so that you could do it again. However, this time she was nowhere to be found. Frustrated, with both yourself and your irrational tendencies, you headed into the locker room and tried to focus on the game ahead.

 The first period you played like shit and Ottawa was up one to nothing. You were beginning to wish that you would have just asked (Y/N) to touch your hat, for it felt like you were now being cursed or maybe that was happening because you'd held her a little too close to your body earlier and your bad game was some form of punishment. By the middle of the second, you were sure it was the latter, for the Senators were up, three zip. Thankfully Horny was at least able to get you on the board with one goal shortly thereafter. You'd just spent a particularly long shift out on the ice and were skating back to the bench when you saw her on the ramp, nervously watching the game with such intensity as if by sheer will alone, she would have one of you to score a goal.

 As you sat on the bench, something in you shifted and you stopped thinking about your silly superstitions and decided that if (Y/N) seemed to have that much faith in the team so were you. As you skated out on your next shift, the puck somehow found your stick on a pass from Horny. A spin to the left and a fake on your opponent and you tapped the puck into the back of the net, cutting the other teams lead to only one. As your teammates crowded you, it wasn't words of celebration you shared but ones of motivation. And when you made your way back to the bench, there she was smiling brighter than the sun. It was contagious and you could help but smile back when she caught your eye.

 When the third period started the team was on fire, Carl Hagelin scoring shortly into the period to tie the game. There was a feeling deep in your chest that you were going to win this one, and somewhere in your mind, you acknowledged you want to do it for (Y/N). Things changed though, when Beau went down, after a bad hit from Zibanejad. The medical staff was on top of things as they took him back to the locker room and you saw (Y/N) disappear with them. She missed the rest of the game, and also the empty netter you put in sealing your victory. By the time the buzzer sounded, and you headed down the ramp; you could just make out (Y/N) and Beau heading out of the arena. Beau's arm wrapped around her as she helped him out. The rational part of you, told you she was just doing her job and helping him; though it was the irrational one that told you it looked more like a girlfriend tending to her injured man. Unfortunately for you this time, the illogical part of you won out as you found yourself jealous of your teammate the first time in your life.