the way he motions for her to turn and she does

The 7 Elements of a SCENE

There are few things as soul-crushing in the writing process (at least to me) than getting a bunch of characters in a room with the intention of something happening, then the characters proceed to stand around and stare at each other.  

Or worse, look at you like this. 

My characters didn’t know why they were there. I didn’t know why they were there either. I had no clue what they were supposed to be doing, so I’d start throwing random instructions at them: “Fight, characters! You guys should fight now! Maybe fighting will make this event have a purpose!” Which inevitably resulted in characters going through the motions of battle for no apparent reason, like they had all lost their minds.

What was the problem? I didn’t know how to write a scene. I didn’t know what a scene was. I had a vague definition that it was something about changing scenery, or just “something happening”.

It’s not. And once I learned what a scene was, my characters got to stop pummeling each other, while wishing they could pummel me. 

So what is a scene? 

The definition of a scene is kind of like the definition of a story. Story is change, a massive change in the life of your main character. A scene is change too, but much smaller, and part of that huge story change. You couldn’t have the BIG change without these tiny changes. Thus, a scene is not switching scenery. It’s not flipping to a new Character’s POV. It’s one segment of change, which triggers the next change, which triggers the next, which gradually build into sequences, which build into Acts, which build into story. 

So what goes into a scene? How does it work?

1. Alternating Charges

If a scene opens positive, it will turn negative by the end. If it opens negative, it will end positive. Simple. 

2. Character Goals

Everybody in a scene wants something. If they don’t want anything, they shouldn’t be in the scene. And these characters, with their often opposing goals, are going to employ different tactics on each other to get what they want. Which creates …

3. Escalating Conflict

Conflict is created when one character wants one thing and another wants something else, right? So the characters in the scene are each pushing for something different, each new tactic increasing in determination. And what are these actions called?  

4. Beats

The beats of a scene are exchanges of action and reaction. One character does something, another character reacts. All exchanges (beats) are pushing the scene onward, building tension and conflict, until finally …

5. Turns & Revelations

The scene turns. The positive has changed to negative. Something has been discovered. The story has spun in a new direction.

6. Connection to Story Objective

Every scene must be connected to the BIG goal of the story, the main character is taking small actions to reach that big goal. If it isn’t obviously connected to this big plot, it won’t make sense. Your reader won’t know why the heck they’re reading the scene. Which brings us to … 

7. Logic & Necessity  

Every scene must be necessary. It must be able to be linked with the previous scene. “Because that happened in the previous scene, THIS must happen in this scene.”

So! To see how that all works, let’s break down a scene from Tangled. (Because I used it in the last post to map out how a premise works, and my little writer heart can’t resist symmetry.)

Which scene? The one right after this happens: 

Opening Charge: Positive. She’s realized everything. 

Rapunzel’s Goal: Rise up against her mother – finally. 

Gothel’s Goal: Regain control.

Escalating Conflict: They’re fighting over who controls Rapunzel, and this battle causes them to go from “mother and daughter” to “enemies”. The conflict builds nicely in this scene, causing the story turn.

Connection to Story Objective: Throughout the movie, the big thing Rapunzel wants is freedom, she wants her life to begin, she wants to have a new dream. This is the moment she figures out how to do that; it’s not escaping the tower, it’s escaping Gothel’s control over her.

So! Here’s the scene.

Beat 1

“Rapunzel? Rapunzel, what’s going on up there?”

Ignores her. Still processing the tremendous implications of this revelation. 

Beat 2

“Are you alright?" 

"I’m the lost princess.” (Dumbfounded. Almost whispering it to herself.)


Beat 3

“Oh, please speak up Rapunzel! You know how I hate the mumbling.” (Bullying.)

“I am the lost princess! Aren’t I?” (Fighting back. She will not be bullied anymore.)

Beat 4

Gothel stares, stunned. She’s rendered temporarily speechless, because her secret’s been revealed finally, and her victim is actually fighting against her.


“Did I mumble, Mother? Or should I even call you that?” (Accusing. Drawing herself up taller. Looking down on Gothel and glaring. She’s seeing her clearly for the first time in her life.)

Beat 5

After a pause, thinking up a tactic. “Oh, Rapunzel, do you even hear yourself? How could you ask such a ridiculous question?” (Laughs. Ridicules. Attempts to make her feel childish, dumb, worthy of being mocked. Tactics which have always worked. She even begins to hug her.)


Rapunzel pushes her. “It was you! It was all you!” (Still accusing and angry, but pain is beginning to show. It’s almost like she’s giving her a chance to explain herself.)


Beat 6

“Everything I did was to protect you.” (And Gothel doesn’t say anything redeeming. She’s holier than thou, regal, bestowing kindness on an ungrateful, stupid child. Trying to control through guilt.)

Rapunzel rams her out of the way. 

Beat 7

“Rapunzel!” (Shouting. Now trying anger.)

“I’ve spent my entire life hiding from people who would use me for my power …” (Leaves her.)

Beat 8

"Rapunzel!” (Still trying the anger angle.)

“But I should have been hiding from you.” (Throwing the truth at her.)

Beat 9

“Where will you go? He won’t be there for you.” (She’s tried everything else. It’s time to attack her heart.)

“What did you do to him?” (Fear)

Beat 10

“That criminal is to be hanged for his crimes.” (She’s keeping up the disapproving mother act, but striking her right where it will hurt her most.)

“No.” (She’s stopped. Shrinking in on herself. Staring, horrified. And Gothel thinks she’s won.)

Beat 11

“Now, now.  It’s alright. Listen to me. All of this is as it should be.” She goes to pat Rapunzel’s head, a gesture symbolic of her superiority, her physical, mental, and emotional control over her victim.


Rapunzel grabs Gothel’s wrist. “No! You were wrong about the world. And you were wrong about me! And I will never let you use my hair again!" 

Beat 12

Gothel wrenches free, stumbling backwards in shock and anger, breaking the mirror in the process. 

Rapunzel walks away. She’s escaped Gothel emotionally now.

Beat 13

"You want me to be the bad guy? Fine. Now I’m the bad guy.” (Well, now emotional control is over. It’s time to start stabbing Rapunzel’s boyfriend.)

This action has no reaction, interestingly. It leaves us hanging, a cliffhanger created with only beats. 

Closing Charge: Negative. She’s now a full-fledged villain, the motherly persona shed, and she’s determined to get what she wants whatever the cost. 

Turn: It changed from positive to negative,  and now we’ve got a Flynn-stabbing witch to deal with.  

Revelation: She’s always been evil. She has always been the bad guy. The motherly act was just that, an act. 

Logic & Necessity: This scene fits with the previous scene, and the one that follows.     

Though I’ve seen these concepts in many books, the place I first learned about it (and the best resource for scene design in my opinion) is the book Story by Robert McKee. It’s helped me countless times, is one of my favorite books on storytelling, and I highly recommend it if you write anything.

I realize that these definitions were a little vague, so I’ll be explaining things more thoroughly in subsequent posts. 

anonymous asked:

I'm going through a real rough patch and if you want to write something cheerful you have no idea how grateful I'd be.

Flash sidled up to Superman on one of the Watchtower’s mezzanines, leaning against a rail. They looked at each other sidelong, then away.

“Wanna hear my new time?” Flash asked sideways, swaying as he alternated which foot held his weight, hands on his hips.

“There’s no way you beat my time,” Superman muttered, his arms crossed over his chest. His eyes were in the other direction, and both men went silent as the Lanterns walked too close. Superman and Flash gave them a nod of acknowledgment, then waited for them to be at a safe distance.

“Nine seconds.”

“What!” Superman dropped his arms, whipped his head around to where Flash was grinning and bouncing on his heels. “No way.”

Flat,” Flash said.

“There’s no way.”

“Check my heartbeat if you don’t believe me,” Flash said, tapping his insignia with his thumb. Then he frowned. “Actually, don’t, I’m pretty excited about this so my pulse is probably crazy.”

His heart always sounded like an angry hummingbird trapped between his lungs, but Barry was also a notoriously terrible liar, so it wasn’t as relevant as it could have been.

Dangit,” Superman said, crossing his arms again. He leaned back to scope out the area around them. No one seemed to be paying them much mind. “What time?”

“Eleven on a Saturday,” Flash said, looking even more smug. “You know I don’t mess around.”

“Tch!” Superman made an irritated sound, licking his canines. Then he snapped his fingers. “You forgot about–”

“Nnnope,” Flash interrupted. “I’m including the new ones in that, that’s the whole reason we had to reset our times, otherwise I’d still be at seven-point-four.”

Tch.” Superman drummed his fingers against his bicep. “Nine seconds,” he repeated, torn between irritation and awe.

“You know what that means,” Flash said, waggling his eyebrows.

Superman sighed. “Alright, where are we going?”

“I want soup.”

“Uh-huh.” Superman waited. Flash was waiting for him to ask. Superman was not going to give him the satisfaction.

“… in Saigon.”

“You’ve been watching Bourdain again,” Superman accused.

“It looked like really good soup!” Flash said, defensive.

“Fine,” Superman said, “but I am going to beat your time, and when I do–”

“Beat what, now?” Wonder Woman asked, having managed to approach them while they were distracted by negotiations.

“Nothing!” Flash and Superman said at once.

“We were just talking,” Superman said.

“About stuff,” Flash added unnecessarily. “Private, personal, man stuff.”

Wonder Woman’s eyebrows shot up. She was close enough for her lariat to hum on her hip. She looked Flash over. Flash started to turn red.

“Okay bye!” Flash said, and he was gone in a streak of red.

“Superman?” Wonder Woman asked.

“I should, uh. Hal…”

He wasn’t actually making any definitive statements, just stringing words together, and yet somehow it still managed to ring false. She watched him go, putting her hands on her hips.

She could practically sense it when Batman came up beside her, even quiet as he was.

“Do you want to know what they were talking about.”

“Do you know?” she wondered. He said nothing, so she turned to look at his face. It was as expressionless as ever, but she got the impression that he did not consider the question worthy of dignifying with a response.

He was Batman. He would never be so rude as to say ‘of course’ – but of course he knew.

“I wouldn’t want to invade his privacy,” Wonder Woman said cautiously.

“He’d tell you if you really asked,” Batman said. “They just like feeling like they have a special thing.”

“Oh.”

“Flash, especially.”

“I see.” She tapped on her lower lip as she watched Superman talk to one of the Green Lanterns. “So what’s the special thing?”

“Pick me up in the plane on Saturday and I can show you.”

She froze. Slowly, she turned to look at him. As always, being able to see him helped not at all. “Like a date?” she asked.

The corner of his mouth twitched. “More like a stakeout.”

“That could be like a date.” She was mostly saying it to tease him. Sometimes if she did it right, he turned pink and had to find a shadow to hide in.

“It’s usually not.”

“Why not?”

“I’m usually with the kids.”

“Oh!” Her eyes widened. “I didn’t mean–”

“It’s fine.”

She put her hand out to rest on his shoulder. “I would never imply–”

“I know.”

She took her hand back. “I’ll behave,” she assured him.

“You don’t have to,” he said, and she grinned.

“I’ll pick you up at ten,” she said, and she gave him an exaggerated wink as she walked away.

“It’s a date,” he murmured.


Why,” Wonder Woman asked, “are we in Florida?”

Batman was sitting beside her, and the plane was in a low hover. “Because as far as anyone can tell, this is the single biggest and busiest Walmart in the world.”

“I don’t think that explains as much as you think it does,” she said.

Batman held up a phone. A clock took up most of the screen. 10:59. “Watch,” he said, and he pointed out to the parking lot, vast and terrifying and teeming with people. She watched, and she had no idea how she was supposed to see anything in the crowd.

Finally, she spotted it. The motion too quick to be anything mortal. Would anyone on the ground notice anything more than a strong breeze?

“Oh! It’s the–” She snapped her fingers, couldn’t remember the word.

“Carts,” Batman supplied.

“Yes!”

In almost no time at all, every cart in the parking lot had been returned to one of the designated corrals. Batman pointed to something that he must have been using technology in his mask to see, because otherwise his eyes should not have been good enough. Wonder Woman was much better equipped to see Superman, standing beneath a tree and checking a stopwatch and scowling. He did some kind of motion with his arms and one leg that suggested he’d have thrown his hat to the ground, if he’d been wearing one.

“They introduced new carts,” Batman explained. “They don’t fit with the other ones, so it slows them down. Ruined their whole system.”

“They had a system?” she asked, giggling.

“No, here,” he said, tapping her arm to point again. “This is the best part. He’s frustrated.”

That’s the best part?”

“Watch what he does.”

She watched. Superman was gone again, more impossible-to-follow motion through the crowd. Things were moving. Large things.

“He’s fixing the cars!” she said, clapping her hands together.

“He’s fixing bad parking jobs,” Batman confirmed. “Because he’s mad.” There was a brief crooked curve to his mouth.

“He moved that one to a different space!”

“Illegally parked in a handicapped spot.”

“How fun.” Wonder Woman watched the people wandering through the lot, wondered how many of them had noticed what was happening and how many had disregarded it as nothing worth noticing. “Flash is the winner of this contest, then?”

“Consistently.”

“Is there a prize?”

“Clark buys him lunch. Usually somewhere he saw on a food show, since he can’t normally do that.”

“Why not?”

“Hm?”

“Barry can run anywhere, can’t he?” she asked. “I see no reason he couldn’t run to these places on his own.”

“He doesn’t like being alone in foreign countries,” Batman explained. “It makes him anxious.”

“Oh.” She returned her gaze to the parking lot. “How nice, then, that it all works out.” She frowned. “Is this weird?” she asked. “Spying on our friends like this.”

“I don’t think I’m the right person to ask.”

“Do you do this often?” she wondered. “Watch people have fun without you?”

“Define 'often’.”

Wonder Woman held up a finger in warning. “Zatanna taught me a trick.”

“That doesn’t sound good.”

“She says that if you ask me to define the parameters, it means the answer is bad.”

Before he could respond, there was a thump.

Superman was standing on the nose of the invisible jet.

He tapped a knuckle on the glass, until Diana opened the hatch. “Hello!” she said cheerfully.

“What are you two doing here?” Clark asked.

“We’re on a date!” Diana said.

“We’re not on a date,” Batman said.

“If you’re not on a date, can you give me a ride?”

“You’re out of our way,” Batman said.

“Nah, just drop me off in Gotham,” Clark said, slipping inside the plane, awkwardly floating between the two front seats into the back.

“You don’t even need a ride,” Bruce said, having to fit himself as far as possible into the edge of his seat so that Clark would have room to get by. “You can fly.”

“Yeah, and you can walk, but I don’t see you giving up the Batmobile.” Clark made himself comfortable in the back seat as Diana closed up the plane. “I’m craving Dimitri’s.”

“You’re too sober for Dimitri’s,” Bruce said.

“I’m always sober. You’re lucky I can tell this wasn’t a real date, or I would be really creeped out by the whole spying on me thing.”

“Don’t tell Barry we know about your special thing,” Diana said, pulling the plane out of its hover to ascend. “I don’t want to ruin it for him.”

“I won’t,” Clark assured her. “Hey, you know where we should go while we’re here?”

“No,” said Bruce.

“Where?” asked Diana.

“No,” said Bruce.

“Disney World!”

“No.”

Diana gasped.

“No.”

Clark put a hand on Bruce’s shoulder. “You can’t have come all the way to Florida just to see me,” he coaxed.

“I’m banned from Walmart, strongly discouraged from visiting Disney parks, and my parents are dead. I have no other reason to visit Florida.”

Nine Months - Harry Styles Imagine

No piece of mine has never had as much interest surrounding it as this one has, so thank you for expressing your excitement to me. I hope you’ll find it was worth the wait. (Protip: if you’re reading on mobile, ditch the app and read on Safari or Chrome instead, as the app is prone to close on longer pieces of text).

This one is dedicated to @permanentcross, simply because she’s the best. E has listened to me ramble on and on about this story for longer than anyone should have to. She’s the inspiration behind many things beneath the cut, all of which I will leave up to your own interpretation. 

Without further adieu, I present you with Nine Months…

Keep reading

our little family pt.1 | park jimin

Pairing: Father! Jimin + Reader 

Genre: Fluff/Angst + parent au 

Word Count: 2.8k

Summary: You were just a pre-school teacher, a simple dream that came true as you always adored children. But what you didn’t know, was how one child and her very special father would change you dream forever. 

Parts: 1 2

“Jieun-ah, please.” Jimin sighed, as he tried putting her arms through the sleeves of her baby pink coat, which she shrugged back off again for the nth time making Jimin let out a soft groan in exasperation.

“Jieun-ah…” Jimin pleaded.

“I don’t want to go to school daddy.” Jieun said softly, pouting as she looked at her dad with round eyes, the corners watering slightly as Jimin felt his resolve weaken at the sight of his little girl before him.

Sighing, he grabbed her hands and put on a large grin, “Jieun-ah, It’ll be fun!” he tried cheering, “Daddy had loved going to school all his life (what a lie) and really wished he could go again.”

“Then why don’t you come with me?” Jieun asked, tugging at the ends of her little pale blue sundress, the color contrasting strongly against her raven blank hair that tumbled around her shoulders in soft curls.

Cradling her face in his hands, her cheeks squishing up together making Jimin chuckle slightly, he said, “Daddy’s too old now, but if anything happens I’ll be there for you, alright? Do you wanna go now? I promise it’ll be great.”

“Pinky promise?” Jieun asked, holding out her pinky to Jimin’s face as he laughed a little, hooking her tiny pinky within his and bringing them together before pressing a small kiss to her hands, “I promise baby.”

“Hi guys!! Welcome! Hello!” you smiled happily as the kids walked one by one into your class, all their faces with expressions that varied, some happy, some mad, some scared and some with tears and snot dripping from their little noses.

Oh children. 

“There you go Jieun-ah, I’ll pick you up in a couple hours okay?”

Keep reading

this is a story about a sorcerer and a knight. well, a knight-in-training. they go by KiT, a nickname for their title, but a perfectly good name for anyone. kit’s a good squire, for the most part, but they have a knack for getting into trouble.

this time the trouble is they just fuckin decked another knight in the middle of the tavern.

“keep your hands off my friend,” kit tells the shocked personification of grossness, now sitting on his ass on the ground. kit’s pretty sure the message was already sent though the ass-kicking, but it doesn’t hurt to be thorough.

the man splutters for a minute before finding his tongue. “you— you— you piece of shit, you’ll pay for this. i have powerful friends.”

“bring it on,” kit retorts. they’re feeling pretty confident right now.

they’re feeling significantly less confident as two other men step up behind the first guy.

“outside,” the first growls.

“we’re zit and wedge, and we’re going to kick your ass,” the second one clarifies. 

zit nods. “but we don’t want to make a mess of you on mal’s floor, since it was just scrubbed and all.”

kit glances at mal, who they rather thought was a friend, to find her nodding appreciatively. “brawlers these days are so polite. out you three go.”

kit wilts. “but… there’s just one of me.”

it’s around this time, when the two other guys are starting to crack their knuckles and look like they’re going to drag kit outside whether they like it or not, that someone else pushes their way through the small crowd that’s forming.

“’scuse me, pardon me. hello. what’s going on here?”

she’s got bright blue hair, of the kind that you get from mucking around with magic too much. everyone immediately reassesses the situation, and watches her warily. a sorcerer can quickly change the way a brawl plays out, if they feel like intervening. kit sincerely hopes she does.

“miss,” zit jumps in before kit can get a word in, “this young… person, here, just brutally attacked my poor friend, and me and wedge think we ought to be able to teach them a lesson in manners.”

the sorcerer studies him for a moment, as if considering his statement, and kit grabs their chance.

“pimple here is completely leaving out the fact that their friend wouldn’t leave my friend alone, after she asked him to go away twice!”

zit bristles, and looks to the sorcerer for her judgment.

she considers for while. “can anyone vouch for this knight’s statement?”

“i was the one getting hit on!” tea shouts from behind kit’s shoulder.

the sorcerer digests the witness’s statement. “hm. i’m inclined to see this as a case of self-defense, through the channel of someone who was not the self being hit on. i would suggest that all the parties involved accept the ruling of “he who gets their ass kicked probably deserves it”, and move on.”

“fat chance,” wedge growls. “the pack sticks together. we have to defend our leader.”

werewolves, kit sighs internally. it just figured.

there’s a dramatic pause, then the sorcerer says cooly, “you try it, and you’ll get your asses kicked too.”

zit and wedge eye her warily. kit eyes all three of them, which is hard with only two eyes.

“i reckon we could take a sorcerer,” wedge hypothesizes— an idea that would be quickly proven false in any laboratory experiment.

but this is a tavern, and the sorcerer has a delayed reaction, only raising her hands when zit charges at her. kit flinches back, sure she’s about to be crushed, but the next moment flames explode in the small space between the sorcerer and zit. there’s a yelp, and mad scrambling back from the sorcerer.

“i have nowhere to be until book club at midnight,” the sorcerer informs them calmly, her hands still out, palms up and ready to summon more flame. kit squints at them. “so i have plenty of time to teach you a lesson.”

apparently rescinding their hypothesis, all three werewolves make a mad dash for the door and disappear into the night.

the sorcerer smiles victoriously, and shakes her bright hair out of her face. kit squints at her scalp as she turns to them. “all good?”

“yes, thank you,” tea says, sounding impressed. “wow… a fire summoner. i didn’t know there were any teenagers powerful enough.”

kit has no other specific places to squint, so they just stare hard at the sorcerer’s face. “yeah… thanks. that was really cool.”

she waves their thanks off with one hand, a few strands of smoke issuing from her sleeves. “all in a day’s work. i’ll be off now.”

kit leaves tea with mal, though they frankly no longer trust her so much, and follows the sorcerer out the door. “hey, wait! you, blue hair magic person. what are you?”

“a masked vigilante,” she says, after a pause. “without the mask, because magic.”

kit blinks at that, before realizing she’s perfectly right. besides the definite ideas that she’s female and blue-haired, kit seems to forget what she looks like one moment to the next. kinda neat, honestly, though disconcerting.

they shake their head. “no, i mean… you’re not a sorcerer. i’ve seen people summon fire, and it comes from a loosely closed fist, not an open hand. also, your hair is dyed, not magically changed.”

she doesn’t answer for a moment, then looks stumped, and continues to not answer.

“well?” kit asks.

“fine,” she admits. “i’m a sorcerer in training, but the fake mask is about the most complicated magic i can do. the hair is so people will take me seriously when i do masked vigilante stuff.”

“and the fire?” kit persists.

after a moment, she shakes out her sleeve, sending a tiny purple dragon tumbling into her other hand. “my helper. my fire aid, if you will. you’re the first person to notice, you know?”

“just logic and being awesome,” kit says with a shrug, feeling pleased. neither are skills they get to show off a lot. they kinda feel like they’ve earned something for it. “hey, can i ask you a question?”

after a pause, the sorcerer in training says, “go for it.”

“why do you wait a second before responding to anything?”

their question is punctuated by a pause before she answers.

then the sorcerer motions kit closer, and tucks her hair behind her ears. the knight-in-training leans in, gaping. there’s a green dragon no longer than the length of one finger perched behind her ear, claws holding onto her piercings for balance. it unwedges one tiny wing to wave at them.

“what the fuck,” kit says, unable to find a reason for this from logic or being awesome.

“what the fuck,” the dragon repeats, pushing its snoot practically inside the sorcerer’s ear.

“this is peep,” she says. “my hearing is shit, so it helps me out. i call it my hearing aid.”

the draconian hearing aid preens under the knight-in-training’s stare.

“shit,” kit mumbles, for lack of better words.

“shit!” the dragon crows, gleefully.

I believe Spencer’s twin is coming.

In this post I want to give a list of reasons why Twincer is my prime suspect as AD. I know a lot of these ‘clues’ come from interviews, but they’re still really convincing for me at least. I’ve definitely missed some of the clues from within the show because they’re not as easy to spot - we need to know for sure if Twincer is happening, then we can dig further. (The fun won’t instantly stop once the finale airs.) But for now, enjoy these, and at the end, I give my theory as to the motive.

Please note: none of this is overly new. This is just the summation of everything we’ve been talking about on my blog for the past couple months. I wanted to put all the ideas into one post, rather than 31529 mini posts scattered here and there. I will be updating this as we find more. 

  1. The famous airport scene from 715.
    We all already think it’s weird that "Spencer" asked Ezra to not tell anyone he saw her there with Wren. What’s weirder, is the fact that Wren and “Spencer” were arguing. Amongst muffle, I heard Spencer say "stop calling me that" (let me know if you heard differently). Did Wren have a slip-of-the-tongue moment and call her Spencer rather than the twin’s real name?
  2. Dr. Cochran’s story is very telling.
    We all already know the ambiguous implication that Mary had more than two babies, because Dr. Cochran said he dealt with “two of Mary’s babies”. What’s more interesting is the second baby he dealt with. The first baby (Charlotte) he gave to Jessica. He said that the second baby that he delivered was placed in family county services. This could not have been Spencer, since Spencer was delivered to Veronica within 5 minutes of birth. So, who was that second baby that was placed in family services? I believe it was Spencer’s twin. Why? Dr Cochran referred to that second baby as “underweight but tenacious” - lo and behold, the next episode, Toby calls Spencer tenacious. This was the writers foreshadowing the similarities between this second baby, and Spencer. Twins. 
  3. We all know Hanna’s ‘dream’ in 701.
    It makes no sense that Hanna was able to dream ‘Spencer’ saying the name A.D. since Hanna was kidnapped before these initials were even revealed. Perhaps Hanna was visited by Twincer; the one holding her captive.
  4. A.D. needs to stand for something. 
    Spencer’s twin could literally have the initials A.D., since we know she would be Mary Drake’s child. Her first name would start with A and the D would stand for Drake. 
  5. Brendan and Ian both confessed to being confused by the identity of A.D.
    They needed the backstory to understand it. Is that because they had no idea who has the name “Alex Drake” (for example) ?
  6. Tyler said before 7B aired that “you’ve never met AD. You kind of have. You’ll know what I mean”.
    This can be interpreted in two ways: you’ve never met Twincer but since you know Spencer, you kind of know who AD is. Or. You’ve seen Twincer over the years, but thought it was Spencer. Either way, Tyler’s comment screams twin-theory to me. This could apply to any twin theory, but in this context, I’m using it for Spencer.
  7. Ian said (0:57) that “fans will be satisfied to a point. Right when it seems it’s gonna be really great, it might do a little [downwards hand motion]”….
    That cheeky smile on Ian’s face when he said “it seems it’s gonna be really great”… what could be greater than a liar being AD? Ian could be referring to the fact that they initially show us Troian under the hoodie, making us think Spencer is AD. Then, after commercial break, they will reveal it’s just her twin, hence the “it might do a little [downwards hand motion]”. We will be satisfied to a point, he said. It’ll start off amazing by thinking it’s Spencer, oh wait, it’s another twin.
  8. Ashley said (0:14) that she didn’t even know the A.D. reveal is possible.
    Because she did not expect a second pair of twins to come along?
  9. “It’s like there are two of you living in this house. You, and you’re evil twin, and we’re not sure who’s coming down to breakfast". 
    said Veronica to Spencer in 423. Foreshadowing at it’s finest.
  10. Spencer doesn’t remember this flashback.
    Was it her twin? And oh how coincidental, that the writers tell us a time Spencer doesn’t remember, in the same scene Veronica makes the above comment about Spencer’s “evil twin”.
  11. “Where are they?”
    said Mary as she entered the Hastings house (flashback from 717). Who is they? The twins? She proceeded to say that Spencer is the only good thing she’s ever made. Maybe Mary knows Spencer’s twin is evil, and is neglecting her. 
  12. “You look very much like your sister. Almost like twins”.
    said Mary to Spencer in 701. The writers wanted us to think that Mary was talking about Spencer and Melissa, since Mary was holding a picture of the half-sisters. But, were the writers, and therefore Mary, hinting towards Twincer? Is Mary being blackmailed/forced (by Peter?) to keep quiet on Twincer, and she had a slip-of-the-tongue moment here?
  13. Marlene is very aware of the Twincer theories.
    Back in 2014 she said that Troian sent her an online fan theory regarding Spencer having a twin who is A. Marlene was blown away by it and she thought it was a very well thought out plan with detailed evidence across the series. Watch from 1:35. Whilst you may be saying “there’s NO WAY Marlene spoilt her own show’s ending in an interview!!” - I feel like she had no idea the show would go on for 7 seasons, and once they got renewed, she panicked. “Shit, we need a new Uber A. Let’s go with that brilliant fan theory Troian sent me”. She probably regrets making this interview now. You can tell her passion for Twincer in this interview. She talks so damn highly of it.
  14. Marlene has said that the person who plays A.D. had known for a while.
    We know that Marlene told Troian the entire ending of the show years in advance. “Just like I had story time with Marlene, you all now get story time with Pretty Little Liars” said Troian.
  15. The girl in the coffin in the opening has the exact same black puffy shirt as Spencer.
  16. Why does it seem that A.D. is always going after the Hastings?
    Why shoot Spencer, out of all the liars? Why demand Aria to plant the audio device in the Hastings? Why not ruin the Marin household? The jealous twin wants her ungrateful sister dead, hence the shooting, and the jealous daughter is angry she never got adopted. Too much of the story is Hastings-oriented. 
  17. “They’re all some pretty. Good. Theories.”
    Was Janel’s response to being asked about the Spencer-twin theories. (22:20)
  18. And, I’ll just leave this here. Good one @prettylittlesessions​ !
  19. “Spencer’s” weird comments in 718.
    In 718 “Spencer” says to Toby “you know what its like to be the outsider. Removed from friends and family”. What made her say this? Nothing was said or done in 718 to prompt our Spencer to say this. 
  20. Keegan said there are no more Spoby kisses in 7B.
    “I can honestly say that there is not another Spoby kiss.” Yet - there was one in 718. Either Keegan lied, or that was Spencer’s twin. (10:15)
  21. “It’s somebody you have seen.”
    says Marlene in regards to who AD is. Was she talking about the Spoby kiss in 710, which Twincer referred to in 718 when she kissed Toby again? Marlene was very careful to avoid saying “it’s someone you KNOW”. We don't “know” Twincer. But, we have seen her.
  22. “That’s not the Spencer I know”
    said Toby in 718. Writers are foreshadowing.

Setting all this aside, I want to add my theory on the backstory and motive:

  • Twincer, who’s name is A_____ Drake, was born in Radley, as Dr. Cochran told us in 7A. 
  • Twincer was raised in Radley - not because she needed to be at a psychological hospital, but as a form of daycare, because Mary was deemed an unfit mother, and also she kept Twincer a secret from Peter… he already hated her (to the point of planning her murder, later on) enough for having one baby together, imagine Peter’s reaction to having twins.
  • There, Twincer met and bonded with her sister Charlotte. Charlotte became Twincer’s only friend. (Twincer might even be Bethany, since we already know of this bond between Bethany and Charlotte, and how Bethany was drawing Charles being taken away by a monster. But for this theory, let’s just forget Bethany for a second.)
  • When Mona came to Radley and started telling Charlotte about everything she did to her sister, Charlotte and Twincer wanted to play. They wanted a turn at harassing Spencer and her friends.
  • For Charlotte, as we know, it was the feeling of finally succeeding at something in life that made the game her drug. For Twincer, it was something far darker.
  • Harassing Aria, Hanna, Emily and Alison is all about driving a wedge between the girls. Twincer wants to break up the girls. Turn them against each other. Hopefully by throwing fire at the girls, they will break up, ultimately, to ruin Spencer’s life. Again, jealousy. Twincer’s plan is backfiring because it’s exactly A’s threats that makes Spencer say “we need each other more than ever” and “always stick together”. The writers keep making the point of SPENCER being the one to make the comments about “always” sticking together. Twincer cannot break Spencer and her bitches. This is fueling Twincer’s anger. Nothing is working.
  • That’s why AD/Twincer recently shot Spencer. “If I can’t break the girls up to ruin Spencer’s life, why not just become Spencer?” Twincer shot Spencer in an attempt to assume her identity and squeeze her way into the loving friendship group that she could never crack. “These girls are so loyal to each other… they don’t even break up after even my threats. Damn, I want to be a part of this. It’s my turn to live a happy life. You had your turn Spencer.”
  • Note: I do not believe that AD has been operating since season 1. Mona’s time as A is completely independent from Charlotte and Twincer’s story. Mona started the game, and now someone is ending it, and she wants to know who. Charlotte and Twincer are their own duo; their own A-team, which stemmed as a result of Mona coming to Radley. Charlotte revealed herself - next up in the A team is Twincer, who is carrying on the game she once played with her sister. 
Guys My Age (2)

Pairing: Bucky X Reader

Words: 4K

Warnings: SMUT. NSFW gifs. 

Summary: You’re playing truth or dare with the Avengers when Nat asks you when the last time you got laid was  and Sam dares you to pick a song that perfectly grasps why you haven’t had sex in so long.

A/N: Enjoy the smot. And please use protection people. Better safe than surprised. I think this is dirtiest fic I’ve written so far.

Permanent tag list: @meganlane84

Part 1

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Nursemaid

(Jimin’s crush comes over to his house to help him out after he suffers an injury that leaves him with limited use of both hands.)

Warnings: 6000+ words of smut, Jimin POV, I’ll let you guess what kind of smut takes place


“I can’t believe you managed to injure both of your hands on the same day.” Hoseok’s girlfriend, Sophie, stifled a laugh while she said it. “I can’t tell if you are dumb or just unlucky.”

 Jimin sighed.  He had been stupid and drunk when he and Jungkook went out into the street to play with fireworks.  One went off too close to his hand, burning his right palm requiring a trip to the emergency room where his injury was cleaned and bandaged.  The doctor gave him a lecture about drunk people and explosives and how fortunate he was not to have blasted off his fingers.            

While exiting the hospital, Jimin immediately tripped over the curb and landed with his full weight onto his left hand resulting in a small fracture and return trip to the emergency room to get a splint to immobilize his other hand.   Now, every time Jimin saw someone, he had to suffer the embarrassment of explaining what happened. People had a hard time not laughing when they heard how he managed to get hurt twice in one day.

 “Does it hurt much?” you asked him.

“Not really. As long as I don’t bump into anything or use my fingers too much, it’s okay.” At least you seemed to be genuinely concerned about his well-being. That’s one of the reasons Jimin liked you, you always seemed caring and sincere.  The other main reason he liked you was because he thought you were incredibly hot.  There were plenty of nights Jimin stayed up fantasizing about what it would feel like to be with you.  He wanted to ask you out, but had been waiting until there was some indication that you were even the slightest bit interested in him.  He was starting to think that maybe he had a chance with you, but he felt neutered with his injuries, unable to do things like casually touch you and see how you would respond to his advances.  Jimin resolved to make a move as soon as he had full use of his hands again.

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‘’Why is she wearing my hoodie?’’

A/N: Here is just another fluff bomb for you all, hope you it! Please let me know what you think. Please note that english is not my first language so there might be grammar mistakes

Pairings: Bucky X Reader

Prompt: Bucky tries to figure out the reason behind his missing hoodie one day, relishing in the idea that might be a win-win situation for both of you.. but what might that lead to? 

Warnings: Fluff overload

Word count: 3745

Originally posted by snowfox934

It all started out innocently enough, on a monday evening after a return home from a particularly difficult mission. Your feet brushed against the cold kitchen tiles, a shiver trailing through your body as you made your way to the fridge for a late night snack. You grabbed a plate of brownies, showing the fridge close with your elbow before making your way to the television room.

You were surprised to find it empty, smiling to yourself as you relished in the idea of being able to pick a movie for once as you planted yourself on the couch. You placed the plate on the sofa table, bringing a brownie to your mouth as you browsed through the selection available on Netflix until you found something of your liking. Another shiver trailed down your spine, your body being tired and drained of energy from the mission and you reached over to the blanket at and brought it over your legs. Your eyes landed on a grey hoodie, figuring it was Steve’s you contently threw it over your shoulders and enjoyed the warmth and smell of the large garment that covered your figure.

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{PART 19} I Won’t Stop You // Jeon Jungkook, Vampire!AU

Originally posted by jengkook

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Vampire!AU, Fantasy, Angst, Smut

Summary; Not knowing whether to stay and fight, or run and protect you; Jungkook gets thrown into a world of fear and panic. Meanwhile, Yoongi and Serrena battle for victory in the silent game of war they play;

“How dreadful…to be caught up in a game and have no idea of the rules.”

I update this series every Tuesday evening, 9pm-10pm (UK Time) 

{Part 1} // {Part 18} {Part 19} {Part 20}

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some villainous concepts/headcanons:

  • Black Hat is a master of all things classical and occult but modern technology is mostly lost on him and he doesn’t care, if you handed him a smartphone he might eat it
  • Dr Flug has an infinite amount of paper bags so that if you remove one you find another and another onwards indefinitely, he can sometimes be found cutting the eye holes out of spares
  • Demencia knew and fell for Black Hat before he knew she even existed
  • Black Hat sometimes shouts random accusatory statements when surprised to play it off like he’s offended and not caught off guard, I.E. “HOW DARE YOU ENTER HERE UNINVITED”
  • Demencia’s job is bodyguard/guard dog, her obsession with BH assures she will fight to protect him or at the very least unwittingly notify him of a potential threat
  • Dr. Flug is a normal human evil-intern-turned-one-man-product-development-department with a family who still wants to see him for the holidays and pester him about his job and his love life
  • Black Hat hoards random nonsense spooky/twisted Victorian things, like taxidermied animals stood up like people and fencing each other or broken chandeliers
  • Dr. Flug can get motion sick, potentially due to his partially obscured vision (paper bag + goggles)
  • Black Hat talks in his sleep but only in horrifying otherworldly tongues of the dark whisperer
  • “DEMENCIA’S EATING THE NEIGHBOR’S PETUNIAS AGAIN”
  • Black Hat is never seen without a hat, preferably black.
  • Dr Flug finds every possible opportunity to retaliate against BH’s torment in quiet and humble ways that won’t get his butt kicked, such as “he asked for 4 ice cubes but I gave him FIVE!! MWAHAHHAHA! HIS DRINK WILL BE ALL WATERY!” 
  • Black Hat does not require mortal sustenance but sometimes eats/drinks just because he can
  • Demencia is closer to chaotic neutral than true evil but let’s just let her have this
  • Black Hat takes offense to implications that he doesn’t understand something and will not ask for help; “OF COURSE I KNOW HOW TO EAT AN EGG” *swallows the raw egg whole*
  • “DR. FLUG THE WI-FI IS OUT”

“We both tried to grab at the last copy of that desired book at the same time and had a tug of war.” (from this post)

Sterek ficlet, T, ~1.6k words. Basically, I was going to just do a tiny little drabble as a warm-up for working on one of my WIPs, and then I was having too much fun with it to stop.

(Btw, if you couldn’t tell, I totally made up the book series in question. Any resemblance to any actual book is completely coincidental.) 

It’s definitely some kind of torture that on the day the seventh and final Path of Wolves novel comes out, Stiles still has to go to school like it’s not the most important day of the year or anything.

And okay, so it’s not like anyone else in Beacon Hills has even heard of these books except Scott, and then only because Stiles can’t shut up about them, but still. Stiles spends the entire day practically vibrating out of his skin with the anticipation. He’s pretty sure he hasn’t taken in a word any of his teachers has said today. The only reason he doesn’t try to make a break for it during lunch is that he can’t afford another detention on his record, and even so, he’s still sorely, sorely tempted to risk it. In the end, he has to get Lydia to hide his car keys from him.

(He was going to ask Scott to do it, but Scott would have caved as soon as Stiles started begging, and Stiles is definitely not above begging, so Lydia it is.)

The instant the final bell rings, though, Stiles is out of there, flying across the parking lot and gunning the Jeep. The bookstore probably only ordered a few copies, and if Stiles isn’t holding one of them by the time he leaves, somebody’s about to get murdered.

Not that he actually expects any competition, but it’s better not to let these things go to chance. He already messed up once by procrastinating on pre-ordering until they were sold out; he didn’t think it was possible for a Path of Wolves novel to be sold out. He was wrong, and now he’s paying for it by having to physically go to the bookstore to get it.

Either Stiles vastly overestimated how many copies the store was going to order, or else he vastly underestimated how many people in Beacon Hills read these books, because when he skids to a stop in front of the New Releases shelf, there’s only one copy left. One beautiful, perfect hardcover copy.

Lucky for him, one copy is enough.

Except that when he grabs ahold of it, someone else does, too.

For a long second, Stiles can’t even believe what he’s seeing. Another hand, on his book. Another hand that’s not letting go, even though Stiles has already clearly and unambiguously grabbed it by the spine and isn’t letting go, either.

Stiles turns his head incredulously to get a look at this usurper, and it’s Derek Hale. As in, made-of-muscles, leather-wearing lacrosse captain Derek Hale.

Until this moment, Stiles wasn’t even sure Derek could read, and now he’s trying to steal Stiles’ obscure eight-hundred-page fantasy novel. What.

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anonymous asked:

Do you think they're going to end up killing Shiro just like in the original?

I really don’t, and my answer has surprisingly little to do with how much I like Shiro and am rooting for him. I have a lot of thoughts on this so I’m going to break them into categories.

This turned into a monster of a post, but, hopefully that’ll help people sleep at night a little better?

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I was inspired by @lazulisong‘s utter brilliance.

The moment Takeshi learned of Yuuri’s ginormous crush on Victor Nikiforov, he lifted Yuuri’s sweatshirt, took a big handful of belly, and shouted loud enough to wake Yuuri’s dead grandmother, “Keep dreaming, round boy! Victor would never want a tubbo like you!”

Oh, but if only Takeshi knew that Victor Nikiforov not only wants a tubbo like Yuuri but that he cried when Yuuri announced that it was time to drop the weight in preparation for the new season. Cried actual tears. The kind of tears usually reserved for deaths in the family or losing everything in a fire. The kind he shed when he thought Yuuri was breaking up with him. Bitter, heart-wrenching tears that leave him red-faced and heaving, then stumbling around hours later, wrung completely dry.

To be fair, Victor cries like that about literally everything—Yuuri landing a quad, surprise candlelight dinners, children in oversized parkas, murals that feature the color cerulean, dogs in movies (not just when they die, but when they’re there at all), the fourth ringtone on his new phone, daffodils, the word ‘sorbet’, and aerosol deodorant—but what Takeshi doesn’t know won’t prove him right, so.

“Maybe you can postpone it another week,” Victor mumbles into the kitchen table, where he fell into a chair and just sort of… deflated everywhere. He’s lying on top of the newspaper. Yuuri really wants to read it.

“You told Yurio he should’ve started training two weeks ago.”

Victor gives a despondent shrug. “He should’ve. Instead he’s been spending all his time Skyping with that degenerate.”

“You love Otabek. You hugged him and said you were proud to welcome him to the family, then you dumped a bag of condoms in his lap and cried because—and I quote—you were trusting him to take care of your most precious child.” And then a mortified, blushing Yurio slammed the airport shuttle door on Victor’s fingers.

Victor’s bandaged hand lifts and cuts through the air as though it were a tiny boat sailing on a choppy sea. Yuuri isn’t entirely sure what it means, but whatever it is? It’s suitably dramatic. “Yurio’s different.”

“Except not really.” Across the table, Yuuri studies the part in his hair, which looks a little… wider than usual. And sadder. It looks like a frown. He wants to lean forward to touch it, but that would do nothing except set Victor off again, and at the moment there isn’t enough fluid in Victor’s body to sustain him as it is. Instead, he pushes his own glass of orange juice toward him. “Vitya, please, drink something and replenish, would you? I don’t want to even think about what the headlines would say tomorrow if I let you pass out while we’re running this evening.”

At that, Victor lifts his head. Yuuri could skate an entire program based on the sheer betrayal on Victor’s face. “We’re running already? But we can’t! Not yet! I'm—You’re not ready. Another week. I’m putting my foot down, as your coach.”

“You’re a terrible coach,” Yuuri says. “I mean that. I want that on record. I can’t believe I’ve put my career in your hands. Can I fire you?”

“I’m a good husband, though, so it all cancels out,” Victor points out, which, okay, fair point. And he proves it by sliding both of his hands across the table and making grabby motions with his fingers. Well, one hand does. The bandaged one looks like a mummified sock puppet. “Don’t leave meeeeee.”

“I’m not leav—” Yuuri pauses, then rolls his eyes so hard he’s almost positive that he sprains something. “Oh. You were talking to my—”

“Squishyyyyyy.”

It comes out on the back of a long, sinuous whine. At Yuuri’s feet, Makkachin stirs, and he places his foot gently on her back and rubs until she settles. “I’m not going to bust my ass twice as hard just so you can manhandle me whenever you want.”

Victor’s head thunks back onto the table between his outstretched arms. “But you’re so soft and squishy, and it’s my favorite, and soon you’re going to be all bony and hard.”

“You’ve never once complained about me being hard,” Yuuri deadpans, then hides his face in his hands, because honestly. Victor cackles dementedly. “Look, I know you like my… well. I appreciate it, but I really need to start training yesterday if we’re going for the gold.”

Victor throws himself off of the table and drapes himself backward over his chair with a groan that honestly deserves an award. “Fine! Fine. Nobody ever told me that so much of being married is making sacrifices.”

It would be so easy for Yuuri to just turn his head and stare at the framed cross-stitch on the microwave that reads Sacrifice is one of the purest and most selfless ways to love someone. Practice it daily. Instead, he nudges the glass of juice a little closer, because, well. Sacrifice.

“Buck up,” Yuuri says cheerfully. “I’ll be back to being squishy before you know it.”

With a grumble, Victor reaches for the glass.

And while no one could ever accuse Yuuri of being the type to hold a grudge, he can’t deny the small, dark part of him that wants to call up Takeshi right this second and crow, “Round Boy got his, you jerk!”

(100 years later I finally got to your prompt, mac-noa ! I wasn’t explicitly lovey dovey bc I didn’t want to be ooc and it’s only actually from Matt’s POV, but I hope it works for you!!!)

Matt and Dan walk in late, strung together by the hands, still flushed from kissing in the car pre-practice. They go sheepish when they see the unimpressed look on Wymack’s face. Renee smiles brightly at them and Allison gives them a brisk nod, but the monsters are in more disarray than usual. Bits and pieces of their group are missing, and it leaves Matt with the peculiar feeling of looking at a familiar photograph that suddenly has the faces scratched out.

Their ringleader is absent, for starters, couch conspicuously empty beside Kevin — who looks unmoved and stoic and nauseated as usual.

It’s not unusual for Andrew to do things just because it’s inconvenient for others, but it’s a little weird for Neil to skip out as well. It’s a lot weird that he’s late at the same time as Andrew when Exy hangs in the balance. 

Any association between them feels like something Matt has to fix, like he set something bad in motion by meeting Neil later than Andrew did in the fall. They’re probably off having one of their weird, close, angry looking conversations that always end in agreements Matt doesn’t understand.

Wymack waits thirty seconds past Matt and Dan’s arrival, and then he looks at the couch like it’s causing him pain, and starts delegating tasks for the day. He only asks once where the missing links are and there’s a lot of shrugging and staring straight ahead before he gives up.

They’re less rowdy than usual, and Matt thinks they’re all individually trying to solve Neil and Andrew’s absence in their heads. (As soon as they get up to move to the court, Allison starts whispering numbers for their betting pool until Dan bats her away.)

Matt squeezes Dan’s hand until she looks at him, and they have a brief conversation in smothered smiles.

They split up to change, and Matt straps into his gear feeling vaguely ill at ease. He keeps glancing at the door between straps and tugs of his uniform, and he notices Nicky doing the same thing. He smiles awkwardly when Matt catches him, and Matt feels a rare pulse of kinship for him. Both Andrew’s lot and the upperclassmen seem equally confused, so they have something in common for once.

The strange feeling follows Matt all the way to the court and through the first set of drills before Neil finally shows up, looking harried and flushed and all sorts of things Matt doesn’t usually associate with Neil.

He pushes into the court straight past Wymack’s blustering reprimand, and Matt catches the tail end of a flippant apology before Neil’s sprinting to centre court.

Matt stares at him. Neil waits, twisting his racquet in his hand, shoulders tense like he expects someone to toss him into the gameplay by force.

“What?” Neil asks, annoyed.

“You’re late,” Matt says stupidly.

“Twenty minutes late,” Kevin interrupts. “Almost like you’re trying to get worse.”

“He was with me,” Andrew says suddenly, breezing past them towards goal looking impossible to have spent twenty straight minutes with. Neil sort of jolts at the sound of his voice, and Matt eyes him narrowly.

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Mister Hockey and the boy crying in the kitchen


Here’s the first part of a fic- AU where Bitty and Jack meet for the first time at the EpicKegster. 

Note that the second part of this is not written yet, and I’m crushed under my to-do list, so don’t expect it soon and please don’t ask when the next part will come, I don’t know. But I wanted to share this with y’all, so I hope you enjoy. 

I apologise for errors, typos or weird sentence structure, all my editing power is and will be concentrated on my own novel, so ha. 

pairings and warnings: pretty much what you get from the canon





Jack went down the stairs with a huff of annoyance. The first floor of the Haus was packed from wall to wall. Loud thumping music, laughter and yells that were barely tolerable from his room now seemed almost tangible, crushing him from all sides. He could already feel the beginnings of a headache.

He pushed his way through and managed to reach the kitchen unscathed. Only three guys were sitting at the table, loudly debating Plato’s cavern versus the Matrix, and another was leaning on the counter near the stove, muttering to himself.

Jack opened a cupboard, swore under his breath when he saw that it was empty of their usual mugs, glasses and bottles. He took a new red solo cup from the enormous pack available to all, and filled it with tap water, trying to ignore the guys at the table.

‘…aren’t you the most precious thing, baby…’

Jack turned around. The guy next to the oven was muttering endearments with a southern drawl- but there was no one next to him. He wasn’t even holding his phone.

Jack had a doubt. Was the guy talking to him?

‘Yes, you are lovely, a bit old, but I would love you, and take care of you, and create glorious things with you, oh sweetheart, if only…’

The guy was not talking to Jack. He was talking to the oven.

He was also, apparently, completely drunk.

‘… better things than pizza rolls, you can be sure of that, you sexy thing…’

Jack was a moment away from heading back to his room when he heard a sob.

‘… but it’s not to be, pretty thing, you and I will have to go our own separate ways and- sniffle- get with our own lonely lives and - oh lord, I’m being ridiculous-’

‘Huh-’ started Jack. ‘Are you okay?’

The guy turned around. He looked older than Jack expected. At least, he seemed to be over eighteen. Jack only had an impression of eyes and blond before he got the drunkest and fakest smile he ever saw in his life.

‘HI!’ said the boy. ‘Gosh, you’re big.’

‘… are you okay?’ repeated Jack.

‘Why, yes, of course! I’m peachy!’

‘You’re crying.’

The guy seemed surprised by this fact. He dried his tears with the sleeve of his hoodie and made a dismissive gesture with his other hand.

‘Don’t mind me, sweetheart, I’m being silly.’

‘…You were crying,’ insisted Jack. ‘And talking to the oven.’

‘Well, no one else seemed to give her love, so I figured-’

He stopped himself and looked at Jack.

‘You’re the Captain of the hockey team,’ he realised. ‘This is your house. This is your oven.’

‘…Yes? In a manner of speaking?’

‘What’s her name?’

‘Whose name?’

‘The OVEN,’ insisted the guy.

‘She- it doesn’t have a name?’

‘Blasphemy. If I had the chance to own such a lovely baby, I would name her something adorable! Like Daisy, or Betsy, and I would bake everyday, I would make pies and cookies and biscuits and-’

He burst into tears.

Jack threw a look around. The guys at the table were staring at them.

‘Dude, what’d’you do to him?’

‘Nothing!’

‘D’you break up with him or something?’

‘No! We just met! He was talking about the oven- and then- and then-’

He made a helpless motion towards the crying boy.

‘Maybe you should do something about it?’ suggested one of them.

‘Like what?’

‘Dunno. Something. To make him stop crying.’

Jack hesitated. He thought about retreating to the safety of his room, where the music didn’t hurt his ears and blonde strangers didn’t burst into tears at the sight of a kitchen appliance.

Awkwardly, he lifted a hand and patted the guy’s shoulder.

‘…there, there,’ he muttered, feeling like the most ridiculous man on Earth.

He got several thumbs ups from the table residents. Which didn’t help his predicament at all. The boy was still crying.

‘Hey, hey, shh, don’t cry, everything is going to be okay…’

‘You don’t know that!’ wailed the blonde boy.

‘Okay, you’re right. Maybe, huh, what could make it right?’

‘I want to BAAAAAAAAAKE!’

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“Baby Stark”

Pairing: Tony Stark x Reader

Summary: After returning to New York, Tony is greeted with surprising news that has potential to change his life.

A/N: another one from draft-purgatory. lol i’ve never written for tony stark, and i i struggle to capture his swaggering tone. however, but i thought it would be fun to write for a slightly softer tony stark.

His elbows resting on the metal railing surrounding the large helicopter landing pad, Tony Stark skims his eyes over the beautiful aerial view of Manhattan. A relaxed smile perks onto his lips as the familiar clamor of the concrete jungle sinks in. “It’s good to be back,” he hums to himself, taking in the majestic view carved around the Avengers Tower.

After rapping his knuckles against the metal railing, Tony saunters down the glass walkway leading into the tower, the eery silence reminding him that everyone is on a mission. He’s about to greet F.R.I.D.A.Y. when a smile enters his view, one that he isn’t expecting.

She sits on the counter of the bar, her legs elegantly crossed despite the restrictive nature of her pencil skirt. The sunlight streams into the room through the glass windows, creating a natural glow about her. A coy smile perks onto her lips as Tony’s drinks her in, his lower lip getting caught between his teeth as his eyes dance up her legs and body. She’s the most alluring girl he’d ever seen -he’d thought so two years ago when they first met, and he still thinks so now- and it’s one of the many reasons why he’s infatuated with her.

“I thought I told you not to wait for me,” He grins, glad that she ignored his request.

“I couldn’t wait until dinner, and I wanted to be here when you arrived. Is that such a crime?” (Y/N) hops off the counter and saunters towards him. She cups his cheek in a way that makes Tony feel like he’s the only person in the world.

“Well, counselor, I recommend -” His words are cut off as (Y/N) yanks the lapels of his jacket to bring his face towards her for a kiss. Tony laughs against her lips, but the laugh quickly gets drowned out by a rough growl as she lightly bites his lower lip. A smile creeps in around the edges of her kiss as she slides her hands down his muscular back. A nip of teeth, a glide of tongue, and she easily has him under her spell.

It’s only a matter of time when the need for oxygen brings the kiss to an end. Tony gently knocks his forehead against (Y/N)’s. “Remind me to always bring up a counterargument, because baby, I could get used to that,” he drawls.

(Y/N) laughs, a devilish glint lighting up her eyes. “Welcome back to New York, Mr. Stark. It’s been a while.” Her hand dangerously inch south as she brings his ear to her lips. “That was a little preview of what’s going to happen tonight.”

He feigns exasperation as (Y/N) playfully smacks his ass but twirls out of his arms before he can do anything. A low noise escapes his throat as she shoots him a sexy smile over her shoulder while kicking off her “ball-busting stilettos”, as she calls them.

Tony leans against the wall and watches (Y/N)’s shadow dance in the glow of the sun. Two years into the relationship, and he still gets butterflies. His fun, beautiful girlfriend, the skyline of the most magical city in America, wonderful weather - his life is perfect and Tony wishes it would stay this way for a long time.

“As much as I love pencil skirts, I need to change,” (Y/N) announces. “I have workout pants in my bag, but could I borrow a shirt or sweater?”

“Baby, at this point, you’ve stolen over half of my comfortable clothes. Why do you even bother asking?”

(Y/N) smirks and plants a kiss on his cheek before sashaying towards the door of Tony’s private apartment. Before she opens the door, she turns to him. “T, I have something to tell you.“

"Mmhmm,” Tony hums, pulling out his phone from his pocket.

“I probably should have told you, but I was kind of scared of how you would react. I thought it would be wise to tell you when you were back in New York.” She hesitates for a bit, her fingertips drumming against the doorframe. “Promise not to freak?” she asks, a slightly icy look glazing her eyes.

A small alarm rings in his head, but Tony maintains a calm expression. “I promise. Did you max out my credit card?” he jokes.

(Y/N) rolls her eyes but relaxes a bit, which pleases Tony. “No, and I never will.”

“My wallet thanks you, baby. But what’s up?”

“Tony.” She swallows. “How do you feel about becoming a dad?”

Keep reading

Let's Pretend (Bucky Barnes x Reader) Pt. 2

A/N: I finally did it! I finished part 2. Thank y’all so much for all the feedback it means so much to me (‘: also, I put a little Easter egg in here. There’s another marvel character mentioned in here that surfs Let’sPretend, let’s see if y'all can find them. (; (also, tags are open too!)

Warnings: Smut, Pornography, graphic details of sex, swearing. Alcohol.


Bucky knew this was wrong on so many levels. What he was doing was a complete invasion of your privacy, he knew that, but he still found himself staring at the neon purple background of Let’sPretend.com. He was lying back on the mountains of pillows he owned, the laptop Steve got him for Christmas was perched on his lap, illuminating his half nude body with purple fluorescent light.

He felt guilty, but he found himself in some weird sexual awakening since he saw the picture of you spread out underneath him, legs spread like an invitation. Bucky found himself replaying the images over and over again in his mind. Most of all, he found himself thinking about your reaction to the video. He was trained to read people’s body language (which he swore he’d never do again) and it was a habit he tried to suppress.

But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t help but notice how your legs squeezed together as you sat on the stool. The way you subconsciously licked your lips at the sight of him topless. And the way your eyes dilated. Those were telltale signs you liked what you saw, even if you didn’t want to admit it, but that gave him no right to do what he was currently doing.

He started off by reading the comments underneath the video first. He expected some vulgar, repulsive words from creepy old men, which is what he usually saw on porn sites. But instead he was surprised with something he never expected. There were actual fans. And by fans, he meant there were a shit ton of people of all ages (legal of course) and not one vulgar comment. Most of them were about you and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t make him smile.


Mr.Marvel1995:
“OMG XD Y/N IS SO PERF! <3”


BBYGURL140:
“I hope they do this in real life (;”


WinterBabexoxo:
“She’s so friggin’ lucky! I want a Bucky!! )’:”


WadeWilson1982:
“I’d give my left arm to be in a WinterY/N sandwich. Kms.”


NaniBearxoxo:
“Jesus that man is sexi AF. *faints*”


CookieThumper87:
“WinterY/N 4ever! ^_^”

He ended up clicking onto the next page, where he was met with more comments by fans. Some were on the creepy side, others were quite flattering, and some were just plain adorable. These people didn’t see him as a monster or a freak like most did. They saw him as desirable, which he truly thought would never happen again. What caught him off guard the most was the undying fascination with his metal arm. It took up almost a third of the comments.

At some point, he found himself on your videos.
There were at least a hundred in total. They ranged from solo shots, to something called “girl on girl”, which confused him at first, but the second he curiously clicked on the video and saw you and Wanda making out violently, he instantly understood. You had videos with almost everyone in the tower.

There were ones of you and Steve, which he may or may not have bookmarked to uh…save for later. There were ones of you and Nat, some of you and Sam (he’s never cringed so hard in his life) which nearly made him break the screen. He found it deeply disturbing that some people actually liked the videos of you and Tony. He was like an uncle to you. Bucky completely stayed away from the ones with you and Vision. Those would probably give him nightmares.

However, he still found that people liked the two of you together the most regardless. They had a special name for you, too. Princess Y/N, they called you. He was known as simply the Winter Soldier, which did disappoint him a bit. He discovered the term “shipping” and something called “one true pair” that the people on the site talked about. He’d never admit it out loud, but he felt a sense of pride that these people favored him out of all the others when it came to you.

With a deep breath, he clicked on the play button.

The camera immediately cut to Y/N on the same bed from before. Her pastel colored camisole was practically see through, just enough to show the audience the outline of her breasts. She let out a playful giggle as she raised her leg in the air, giving the camera a view of her barely clothed core. Bucky felt arousal hit him like a train when he spotted a small dampened area on her panties. As if on cue, she started singing lowly. Jesus, she even sounded like the real Y/N.


“Happy birthday to me…” she sung, while slowly teasing her nipple with her fingers.


“Happy birthday to me…“ Bucky felt his erection growing harder with each word. His eyes followed her hand as it trailed past her stomach and rested on her clothed core.


“Happy Birthday, Y/N,” she let out a whimper when she began slowly tracing her clit through her panties. Any self control Bucky once had, had jumped out the window. In a second, he slipped off his boxers and gripped his aching member with his flesh hand and began pumping slowly.

“You’re starting without me, doll?”

The deep voice caused a shiver down Bucky’s spine, forcing him to stop pumping his cock. The camera suddenly turned to a fully clothed Winter Soldier I’m the doorway of the room, his blue eyes staring Y/N in an animalistic way. He stalked over to the bed and towered over her.

“Tsk, Tsk, Tsk. What is rule number one?” he asks, gripping her legs and yanking her to the edge of the bed. A playful giggle came from her mouth, and God, Bucky found it the hottest thing on this earth.

She smiled up at the Winter Soldier through her long lashes. “Rule number one,” she says. “This pussy belongs to The Winter Soldier.”

He slipped his metal hand down one of her thighs and gave the flesh there a little smack, a moan escaped her trembling lips.

“Looks like you broke the rules, sugar,” he says huskily. “And you know what that means?”

“I need to be punished!” She replied, licking her lips and winking at the camera.

In a flash, he flipped her onto her stomach, her legs dangling off the bed so the camera had a perfect view of that her ass. In one swift motion, he took his mask off, revealing an identical face that belonged to Bucky Barnes himself.

It was by far the most erotic thing Bucky’s ever seen and despite his conscious screaming at him to shut off his computer and bathe in holy water, he found himself harder than he’s ever been in his life. It wasn’t even five minutes and his swollen member was leaking precum all over his thighs. He was definitely going to hell. But if this is what he’ll was like, then he’d gladly go willingly.

The Winter Soldier gently placed the black mask onto her face, and she made a sound somewhere in between a whimper and a groan. Her hands were pulled behind her back and held there by his metal hand while he pulled out a pair of metal handcuffs. With a sublet click, the metal was around her wrists, binding them together.

He let out an amused chuckle at the sight before him. Y/N pushed her ass against his clothed groin in a poor attempt at getting some friction. She peered over her shoulder at him and tried to speak, but the only sounds that escaped were nothing but muffles from the mask. Bucky groaned at the sight of her wearing his mask. He’d never be able to see it the same and NOT get a raging erection.

Her eyes widened with joy when he finally began unbuttoning his black pants and slid them down his toned thighs. Her thighs trembled with anticipation as he gripped his swollen cock and slowly pumped it with his metal hand, going as far as teasing her clothed entrance with the tip. Her head plopped into the pillows in front of her.

“Rule number two,” he says to the camera with a smirk. “Good things come to sluts who wait.”

In one move, he pulled her panties to the side, ripping the material away and thrust inside her. Y/N cried out in pleasure through the mask, pushing her hips back with each thrust.

“Oh fuck, baby. You like that?” He asks through gritted teeth. She whimpers a reply and nods, her eyes wild with pleasure. The only thing that’s audible is the dirty sounds of skin against skin, along with the Winter Soldier’s grunts.

Bucky was hypnotized by the way his cock glides in and out of her hole, glistening with her juices. He pumps himself faster, groaning loudly when he hears her muffled cries. He was enchanted by the way her moans grew louder with each thrust. He tried to imagine what she’d feel like. The tightness of her walls around him as he hits that special place inside her. Would she whimper like in the video? Or was she a screamer? He prays that she’s the latter.

Suddenly, she’s flipped onto her back again. Her little party hat dangled to the side dangling almost completely off her head. The Winter Soldier smiled down at her sinisterly before pulling out of her and pressing the tip against her pussy.

“Does Princess Y/N want her gift here?” He asks, teasing his tip against her folds. “Or here?” He pulls away and pressed his cock against the puckered ring of muscle of her ass. Bucky lets out a string of curses at the sight of her glistening holes. With a small whimper, she pressed her ass against his cock; all while staring up at him with the most innocent smile.

The sound she made as he thrust into her nearly pushed Bucky over the edge. His hips bucked into his fist, precum spilling from his tip and onto his toned stomach. No matter how good it felt, he knew deep down inside that it was nowhere near as good as the real Y/N.

Finally, the Winter Soldier removed the mask from her face. The camera zoomed in on her swollen red lips. “Oh, daddy, I’m gonna come!” She moaned. He placed his hands on the inside of her thighs and pinned them down into the mattress, the angle allowed him to thrust deeper inside her, making her scream out in pure euphoria.

“You like how Daddy fucks you, doll?” He grunts. His thrusts are stuttering against her hips and Bucky can tell he’s getting closer. She slips one of her hands between them and shakily began rubbing her clit in circles.

It doesn’t take long before she became a complete mess, her entire body trembling from the intense orgasm that was near. Her eyes are set on his blue ones as he drilled into her. She chanted his name like a prayer and Bucky wished he could make the real Y/N do the same.

Bucky’s metal hand cupped his balls and began massaging and tugging them in time with his flesh hand. The sensations created a sweet pleasure that made his eyes roll back. He’s sweating everywhere, but he doesn’t give a single damn. He’s so close, so fucking close and by the sounds of it so was she.

XXXXXXXXX

It was past midnight when you finally left Wanda’s room. No matter how much you drank, you couldn’t escape the embarrassing events that had occurred to you earlier that day. Wanda, however, had managed to go far beyond her limit. You giggled drunkenly at the memory of the woman passed out in her bedroom, the empty bottle of alcohol still in her hand.

You were way past tipsy, but still able to walk. Somehow you had made it down the long corridors without passing out or running into anything, which is what usually happened when you drank.

You were almost to your room when you heard a strangled cry. It wasn’t super loud, but enough to penetrate through a door. Following the direction it came from, you heard another, followed by a string of profanities. Whoever it was, they sounded like they were in pain. Your drunken mind tried it’s best to register this situation clearly. Who was even awake at this hour?

That’s how you ended up outside of Bucky’s room. You were positive the cries were coming from there. You knew about his nightmares, everyone did. They occurred almost every night and Steve had advised everyone to just ignore them and give Bucky his space. And everyone did just that. Nobody ever bothered him about it.

But these didn’t sound like typical night terrors. They sounded like something else completely. What if he was in trouble? Or dying? You couldn’t live with yourself if that were the case. With a turn of the doorknob, you peeked your head in and whispered his name softly; hoping it was just another bad dream.

You expected a lot of things. You expected Bucky to be in bed, thrashing around violently as he fought back against the imaginary foe in his dreams. You expected him to be shouting pleas of mercy or even Steve’s name. You even expected to be thrown out as soon as he woke up.

Bucky wasn’t in trouble at all. In fact, it looked like he was having a really good time.

The room was pitch black except for the purple glow of his laptop that was on his bed. He was lying back, the sheets pushed off the bed completely. He was nude with the exception of his black boxers that were pushed down to his knees as he furiously pumped his large cock with his flesh hand. Your eyes widened at the sight of it. You were no virgin and you’d seen your share of the male anatomy, but Bucky Barnes was big.

The tip was an angry red and you felt your mouth watering each time he ran his thumb over the head, collecting precum. His metal hand was massaging his balls, tugging on them gently. The groans he let out made the wetness between your legs grow. He had no shame either. He sounded just like the man in the video.

You curiously glanced at the porn video that was on the laptop and instantly filled with shock. The cries weren’t coming from Bucky, but from…you. He was watching the vid from earlier. And by the looks of it, he was enjoying it.

“Y/N!” He gasped, pumping himself faster. Hearing your name fall from his lips awoken something in you. You were practically dripping in your jeans and you contemplated whether on not to touch yourself right there.

Suddenly, the fake Y/N let out a scream of pleasure and you watched as the fake Bucky emptied himself inside of her with a loud groan.

“Ah, Y/N!” Bucky shouted as he came, coating his fist in his come. Your heart hammered in your chest as you watched.

Your first instinct was to run, so that’s what you did. You initially planned to close the door quietly and run to your room, but the alcohol in your system made that hard for you. Instead of closing the door quietly like you planned, you slammed the it shut. Creating a big echo that traveled down the corridors.

To make it worse, the sleeve to your hoodie got caught on the handle from the inside.

You desperately tried to yank it free, but ended up making the door slam against the wall loudly instead. Anxiety filled your body as you heard the sounds of drawers opening and closing from inside the room. No matter how hard you pulled or tugged, it just created more noise.

Suddenly, you heard the door open and you flew back from the force, landing on your ass with a thud.

Above you, stood a sweaty and fully clothed Bucky Barnes in the doorway.

You were so dead.

Tag list:
@seb-smut

Slippery When Wet

Reid x Reader

“You had sex in the Museum of Modern Art ? Oh my gawd..” Penelope’s hands were clasped over her mouth and she was almost shaking with laughter.

You all were. What had started off as a nice meal cooked by JJ, had quickly escalated into a full on girls night in. You were all strewn about her living room, wine bottles in various places. You were lying on her couch, your feet placed in Emily’s lap and you were all discussing the various strange places you’d had sex.

You were tipsy, pleasantly on your way to being hammered and you were having a brilliant night in with your female colleagues. Garcia was sat in the arm chair with her legs slung up over the side and JJ was sprawled out on her floor, her head propped up on her arms and a half empty bottle of wine next to her. She’d taken to swigging directly from the bottle as she’d smashed her second wine glass an hour ago and you’d all berated her for wasting alcohol. You knew where your priorities were.

“Yep! I used to date one of the security guards when I was eighteen. He snuck us in after hours,” Emily told you, her face pink with laughter.

“God…” JJ said. “The most adventurous place me and Will do it is in the shower, he loves it in there.”

You giggled, “Spence loves it when we fuck in the shower too, although I’m always scared we’ll slip over.”

The three girls stopped laughing and all turned to look at you incredulously.

“Spence?” Emily asked.

Your eyes widened as you realised what you’d said.

“OUR Spencer?!?” JJ rearranged herself into an upright position, crossing her legs and leaning forward.

Oh fuck.

“Y/N? Really? You and Reid?”

“Errrrm.”

JJ crawled across the floor and pulled out her handbag which was stashed at the side of her couch. Taking out her purse, she handed fifty dollars to Emily.

“Penelope, I believe you owe me fifty too?” Prentiss told Garcia.

“In a minute. I still…. Really?” She was leaning forward in her seat.

“You can’t say anything to the guys. Please. We’re not ready for people to know yet.”

“OH MY GOSH, IT’S TRUE!!” Garcia squealed and you caught JJ rolling her eyes and making the motion of covering her ears.

You took a big gulp of wine and nodded, readying yourself for the questions.

“When?” Penny demanded to know. “No no no wait.. I bet it was at Morgan’s party? Am I right, am I right?”

You shook your head. “We were together by then.”

“THAT WAS THREE MONTHS AGO, Y/N.”

Emily and JJ just looked amused, watching the exchange between you two. You gave them all a sheepish look.

“The time we went on that outward bounds team building thing? I remember you two lagging behind on the trails. Did something happen then. Wait… You two got back to camp a good thirty minutes after the rest of us. It was then wasn’t it… Oh I can see it now; you trip and Spencer reaches for you to stop your fall. You end up in a pile on the floor and stare into each others…. ”

“Pen, no. We were already together then too. Although something definitely happened in those woods.”

JJ interrupted her just before she was about to launch into another convoluted guess. “When exactly did it happen?”

“Erm…. You remember that case where I was really ill and Spencer ended up escorting me home and spent the weekend looking after me.”

“Hahahaha,” Emily laughed. “So you played a little bit of Doctor Reid and patient then.”

“Weeell not exactly. I was too ill. But that’s when we discovered that we both liked each other.”

“Girl, we could have told you that.” JJ sipped from her wine bottle, grinning at you.

“So wow… That was… ” Garcia thought back in her head, “Seven months ago.”

“Yep.”

“What’s he like, you know, as a boyfriend?” JJ asked.

“Perfect.”

All three awwwwed in unison. You weren’t lying either, Spencer really was the best partner you’d had.

“Does anyone at work know?” Garcia wanted to know.

“Only Hotch. And that was because we felt he ought to. He’s fine with it as long as it doesn’t effect our work. Which so far, it hasn’t.”

There was a moments pause before Emily cleared her throat.

“I’m just gonna ask what those two are thinking. What’s he like in the sack?”

“I can’t tell you that!!”

“Yes you can.” They urged, almost as if they were a practiced chorus.

“No, I can’t!”

“You’ve gotta give us something here.” Garcia begged.

“Look, all I’ll say is that he’s definitely picked up a thing or two from all the things he’s read, and that he makes me extremely happy.”

Another trio of awwws.

“I never really imagined Spencer to be a shower sex kinda guy though,” Emily piped up.

“Oh he definitely is. I swear, the amount of times one of us has nearly slipped over.”

…Monday Morning…

The girls had promised not to say anything and you were trying to find the right time to tell Reid that you’d let it slip. You’d decided that when you were ready, you’d tell everyone together.

You were sitting across from each other around the circular table in the meeting room with Hotch, Derek and Rossi, waiting for the other three.

Strolling in with smirks on their faces, they handed Reid a wrapped package.

You looked at them curiously.

“A present? What did I do to deserve this?” He asked them excitedly, ripping it open at their urging.

“An anti slip shower mat? I don’t get it?” He looked at them confused.

You were going to kill them. All three of them, together.

“Y/N was telling us the other night how you sometimes have problems staying upright in the shower,” Emily told him as the other two tried to keep a straight face.

“Y/N?”

“I’m sorry…… I’m so sorry!!”

He started to chuckle as did the other men. Standing up, he quickly walked around the table and pulled you out of your chair, wrapping his arms around you.

“I kinda let it slip too, last weekend when we were at Rossi’s.”

“Thank God!” Derek exclaimed loudly. “I thought we were gonna have to pretend we didn’t know forever. You have no idea how hard this last week has been for me, wanting to make jokes at your twos expense. Although… The shower mat. I don’t get it?”

Penelope whispered something into his ear and he grinned, nodding approvingly.

“Slippery when wet, eh.”