#completely dysfunctional family dinners

[paldogangsaan]

i’m soooo normal abt theerapanyakul family dynamics. totally not chewing glass

[littlemarianah]

Katniss is canonically an doting mother.

She has no problem carrying them as many times as they ask. Never ignore them when they are crying and never get angry when they're acting like children. She doesn't care about wet beds or glasses of juice spilled on the table.

Peeta finds it a little strange at the beginning. He was raise with punishment for the smallest accidents. His parents were never very affectionate with any of their children.

One day Katniss is tying Willow's shoes and he says something like "It's time to do it yourself, young lady"

"Take your time, Willow" Katniss say.

Which makes Peeta reflect. It reminds him of all the times he walked to school with his shoes untied because no adult wanted to tie them for him. It reminds him of how he used to be punished for his dirt-stained shoelaces when he came home from school.

When Rye wets the bed at almost five years old, Peeta's first instinct is to warn him, but Katniss says it first:

"Maybe we should drink less water before going to sleep"

Which reminds Peeta of how angry his mother would get when he wet the bed. The first time he remember being physically punished was after an incident like this . Remember how after that he tried to hide the wet bed with blankets and pillows and never spoke to anyone again.

And how Rye, in contrast, would wake him up in the middle of the night saying, "Daddy, I did it again." And Peeta let him sleep between him and Katniss instead of him lying in the wet bed like Peeta did when he was a child.

He shares some of these feelings with Katniss and she makes and he realizes how dysfunctional his family was. And how difficult it is not to repeat the same mistakes.

Peeta felt triggered when one of his children cried... He remembered how much worse it was for him if he cried. But Willow was only six years old and it was normal to cry like that, Peeta learned to wipe away her tears and teach her to regulate her emotions.

One day he caught her stealing some coins from the bakery's cash register. He stopped in complete shock looking at her. He felt fear spread through his body. He remember that it was for this reason that his mother beat his older brother. She took a wooden spoon from the kitchen and hit his hands fourteen times. The number of letters that are in the phrase "I shouldn't steal".

She made Peeta and his middle brother watch. Remember Bran's face turning red as he held back tears and spelled "s-t-e-a-l". When his father came home and saw Bran's hands red at dinner time he didn't ask what happened. Remember hearing Bran cry at bedtime that night.

He felt afraid for Willow.

"What are you doing?"

"I just want to buy some gum on the way to school" she said innocently, not seeming to realize the problem.

"You shouldn't take the coins from there. These money are from the bakery. If you want money to buy something you should ask me or your mother"

She returned the coins to the cash register and nodded.

One day Peeta realized that his children saw no other purpose for a wooden spoon other than stirring the food in the pan.

[rassvetsky]

would literally lose my fucking mind if you wrote carmy like touch starved, idk maybe everyone is staying after to celebrate something and he’s dragging you into his office to eat you out with absolutely zero shame because he needs it so bad

your wish is my lifelong quest i love you, hope i did it at least some justice loml

Carry You Away With Me

carmen "carmy" berzatto x fem!reader

He looked sheepish for a moment, lips curling into a grin for another split second before returning to his natural expression, eyes finding yours and locking you into his gaze. "Do you think anyone would notice if I took you elsewhere right now?"

[4k] | chef ill be honest with you this is just porn, needy!carmy (he's fucking adorable), office sex if that's even a term, established relationship, cunningulus, unprotected sex, cum-play. my apologies to the church

reblog and/or like for a kiss, feedback much appreciated! not proofread.

It was around 11 when you returned to the restaurant with a bottle of champagne cradled in your arms, watching as Gary and Tina pushed a few tables together to make a bigger one for the rest. Eating together wasn't a rare occurrence, but it often only happened an hour before service in the morning— dinners were mostly had at home or skipped altogether, depending on the importance one put into their health. But tonight called for an after-hours get-together, one that Sydney and Marcus pushed for when Ebraheim showed up in the morning with the latest issue of Gastronomica, featuring a very familiar name this time around— Carmen Berzatto.

"You know— I bet you can like, make it to a Vogue issue sometime later on, too."

"That's not exactly food-related."

"I'm just saying, dream high and—"

The few clinks of a spoon against the glass cut Fak right off and Carmen made a mental note to thank god for that later on, his gaze lifting from the long, full table that everyone was surrounding to the source of the sound; the now-empty champagne glass that Richie held.

"Can we all take a moment to stop stuffing our faces with this whatever-the-fuck it is to congratulate my cousin right here?" he spoke up, bringing a smile to your lips as you reached for Carmen's hand from under the table and muttered out "chou à la crème", another dish that Marcus had been experimenting with lately. A short chuckle left Carmen's lips when he vaguely heard what you said, and he gave your hand a firm, appreciative squeeze before rubbing his thumb along the back of your palm. "Gastronomica isn't just any magazine. I think it's supposed to be one of the good ones, like—"

"—the Vogue of food!"

"Maybe! Who knows, anyway— really, I'm proud of this mess of a man and you all should be, too." and maybe this was the most affection that Richie could whip out in public, but it was more than enough— because despite his hate for having the spotlight directly on him, Carmen was currently busy offering a smile to Richie, which the other reciprocated shortly before sitting back down, his quiet little hum of affection drowned out by the mutterings of 'cheers' along with the clink of everyone's glasses.

Proud was an understatement for this little dysfunctional found-family.

But you knew Carmen, you knew that he'd much rather skip on the compliments and pats to the shoulder; and you were way too sure that he'd need a moment to himself sooner or later. That moment came almost fifteen minutes after, when everyone split themselves into a few groups of completely different conversations, scooped up chocolate sauce and cream and small pieces of the delicate pastry got left behind on the empty plates— you felt Carmy's fingers wrapping around your upper thigh, concealed by the dimmed out lights and the table.

"S'up?" you returned your attention to him upon feeling his fingers tapping along to some nonexistent rhythm on your clothed skin, not too invested in the story Richie was busy telling everybody with the loudest voice he could muster to begin with.

He looked sheepish for a moment, lips curling into a grin for another split second before returning to his natural expression, eyes finding yours and locking you into his gaze. "Do you think anyone would notice if I took you elsewhere right now?"

"Elsewhere?"

"Not too far, jus' my office. For a couple of minutes at most." he leaned in closer to your ear just so you could hear him over the 2012's pop playlist Manny whipped out earlier, a completely mesmerizing turn of events when he started singing along to a random Katy Perry song— but that leaning closer action proved Carmen to be just another self-saboteur because he was feeling specifically out of place all day and to feel your perfume so close was a pull with a force out of this world. He couldn't pull back away then, couldn't return to his own chair and you had no choice but to push him away manually. "I promise."

"Any ulterior motives I should be aware of?" you grinned, letting your fingers curl right over his own on your thigh— and making a mental note to ease him into the habit of using hand moisturizers regularly sometime, upon the roughed up feel of his skin.

"You wound me, baby." his expression seemed to linger over offense, but his eyes told a completely different story; and before you knew it, he was pushing his chair back to get up, patting Gary's shoulder on his way to the back of house, a momentary turn of his head just so he could silently tell you to follow with his eyes.

And that, you did, despite the raised eyebrows of Richie's that you met along the way.

The kitchen smelled like a different kind of citrus, one that only belonged in dishwashing detergents as you maneuvered through the stations, cleaned up from the day's worth of filth. From your peripheral vision, you noticed Carmen reaching behind to undo the strings of his navy apron, leaving out the top string that he'd have to pull over his head until you could catch up and he could get to the office. His shirt was, again, as pristine as ever and it was a work of magic how he managed to come back home with a perfectly clean white t-shirt each day, if not for a few little drops here and there.

Finally, he pushed open the door of his office for you and you stepped in, finding your way to his desk in the darkness to flip the switch of the small light that illuminated the paperwork mostly. When your eyes found him again, the apron was long gone— tucked away in a corner, folded, although not so neatly. "Happy now?"

Instead of a reply, he just plopped down on the old, squeaky chair by the desk, thighs spread and arms wide open to make space for you. You took the offer right away, seating yourself on one of his thighs but still balancing yourself on your feet too, in order to not just dump your whole body weight on him and potentially numb out his leg. He couldn't care less, as he wrapped himself around you tightly and pulled you closer. "I don't really give a shit about Gastronomica."

"I figured," you mumbled against the material of his shirt, lungs filling in with a scent that only he could carry— a surprisingly pleasant mix of cigarettes, sweat, and gravy. It belonged to him, at least. "When's the last time you gave a shit about anyone's opinion outside of here, anyway?"

A soft hum left his lips, one that feigned agreement— but he wasn't paying much attention to what you've been saying to begin with, mind all muddied with specific moments in time that included you. Come to think of it, he'd been like this all day, even when Richie jokingly smacked him across the face with the magazine or when Tina elbowed him while he was trying to explain why she had to strain the mixture twice to get a flowing consistency— on the back of his mind, there was always you; always the lack of time he got to spend with you when the rush hour got too much to bear and he couldn't bring himself to lift an arm when he came back home to you.

When was the last time he properly touched you, took his time to memorize all the little ridges and beauty spots across your body, he couldn't remember.

So as you spoke, listing out all the reasons why he should be proud of himself for all the accomplishments, Carmen's arm curled around your waist and his fingers found your thighs again, the warmth of his palm seeping through the material of your leggings and from the way they teased upwards, you knew where this was going. "... that you managed to turn— are you not listening?"

His smile was so smug that you wanted to either kiss, or slap him. "Not really. But go on."

"Carmy, if you actually think that I'll do anything non-churchy with you here while everyone's literally twenty feet away, you're so wrong." you breathed out, because that's all you could do when his lips ghosted over the side of yours, before trailing down to where your jawline met your neck. He only hummed as a reply, clearly not giving a shit about your opinion either at that moment— but to say that you weren't enjoying the attention would be a blatant lie.

His fingertips traced the seams outlining your underwear through the extra layer of fabric while his lips latched to your neck, finally, with his warm breath hitting against the sensitive skin and the usual wet nature of his kisses leaving behind a glistening spot of adoration. You leaned into it, rather shamelessly— legs parting and fingers carding through the locks on the nape of his neck, and that only encouraged him further, causing him to whisper out a curse and a few sloppy words of praise. "Just let me, hm? Please?"

The sense of desperation in his tone was enough to push back any words of disagreement that you could blurt out at that moment. You knew you had to power through, it would be so embarrassing and disrespectful to let him have his way with you right here, while everyone else was still at the FOH— but the way his palm covered your clothed core and his fingertips teased the slight outline of your slit, all while his pretty lips were oh so busy whispering absolute filth in your ear was slowly taking away all the care you had in the world. "Carm— not a good idea."

"You weren't saying that last week, right here," two weeks ago, to be exact, but you couldn't blame him for not being able to tell time apart. "Had to cover your mouth and all, s'loud for me—"

"You're getting carried away." you chuckled, the deepest of breaths still not enough for the capacity of your lungs as you tugged on his locks slightly, prying him off of your skin just so you could get a look at him.

"Let me carry you away with me. Please, fuck— I can't think of anything else when you're on my mind." he pulled away a little from your neck, eyes of pristine skies staring right at your soul with the expression of a kicked puppy— he knew exactly how to get his way when he was miserable like that. His fingers were still against your heat, expecting permission. "Ten minutes only, just let me touch you."

You could recognize that tone, that incurability way too well— it was often reserved for nights shared between hushed whispers of promises, where he was too needy to form a single thought and all he could do was to cover your body with his and curl onto you, to feel your warmth against himself and to be one body and one soul for an hour. Uncommon in nature, even rarer to take place in a room that he reserved for professional affairs only— but the heart wants what it wants.

To his surprise, you suddenly pushed your lips against his— letting his fever take over you as well, with your hands clutching onto his shoulders and hair. You could hear the slight groan escaping his lips when his fingers breached under the tight waistband of your leggings, pushing the material down slightly with the bend of his wrist before turning his hand a little to tug it all downwards, urging you up on your feet. You got up from where you were seated, now standing between his legs with your back bent just so your lips would be on his, but he broke the kiss with a smile that took over when he finally pulled down both articles of clothing at the same time. Your back straightened when he managed to push them both down to your ankles, your hands on his shoulders to help with your balance as you stepped out of them, feeling his moist lips over your abdomen for a second before he pushed you backwards slightly, towards the desk.

He took that momentary advantage to get up on his feet and pin you right in between his own body and the desk, hands blindly pushing the loose folders to the side. You felt too exposed when his palms gripped the underside of your thighs just to prop you up on the desk, lips finding and panting against yours, a clear indication of his need seeping through the way he tugged and nibbled before his tongue found its way to caress yours.

There was nothing nice about it, but you couldn't bring yourself to care— not when he whispered your name against the plush of your lips so sweetly when your fist closed around his hair, not when he didn't even know what to do with his hands; grabbing, fondling at every inch of your skin that he could reach shakily. He pulled you flush against his body, letting you get a feel of the harsh dark denim against your bare center and you had to bite into his lower lip to stay quiet, ultimately earning a groan from him when his hands slipped under your shirt.

"Bear," you whispered out, his lips chasing yours when you pulled away to speak— which made you chuckle quietly, as he looked at you again. "Ten minutes."

"Ten minutes," he parroted, the usually wide eyes of his now hooded, pupils blown out as if he was looking right at the sun. When you reached in to kiss him again, you couldn't catch him fast enough— he was already holding onto your thighs to crouch down, looking up at you with a Cheshire grin when you spread your legs a little further apart, a force of habit.

Leaning back on your palms against the desk as much as the cramped space could allow, you took a deep breath— but it wasn't enough to prepare you for what came next when his tongue trailed a bold line across your slit, spreading your folds apart gently. It was a pleasant routine, one that you never quite got used to; because when he was down on his knees with his tongue tracing abstract shapes across your clit in a teasing manner, it was all about you and to think that a guy who often rushed things and went through life at a 2x pace would slow down just to put all of his attention on your pleasure only was more delightful than any compliment one could attain.

Carmen's fingertips were perhaps digging into the skin of your thighs a bit too hard, but could you possibly complain? The tip of his tongue dipped between your folds to spread your essence upwards, a mix of his saliva and your wetness covering your clit when he closed his lips around it and sucked— letting out a blissed groan, one that he'd scold you for if you were the culprit. You could only imagine how hard he must've been at that moment, he was always a sucker for situations like this, with the thrill of doing something so forbidden, right where he could be caught and your taste on his tongue, thighs on either side of his shoulders.

Imagining it didn't help your situation at all, it was hard to focus on one coherent thought when he kept flicking his tongue over your sensitive bundle of nerves but you forced through— with the thought of the blunt tip of his length all flushed and leaking in your palm, curses leaving his soft lips whenever your fingers got a bit too tight around the girth. He liked it when you put your focus there, tip of your tongue tracing the slit and leaving kisses over it while the rest of your palm jerked him off— firm and slow.

And you'd always let your lips stray when he got close, deciding to suddenly bite into the skin of his inner thighs or to lightly trace his perineum with your tongue, just to have him reduced to a writhing, whining mess with not enough air to survive in his lungs. He'd spill onto your fingers and you'd clean him up right away, moving your way upwards with wet little kisses until you reached his lips. And he was one dirty fucker because tasting himself on you when you kissed him all sloppily was probably one of his favorite things in the world.

Drowned out in all the thoughts, you didn't notice how close you were until your thighs were shaking around his shoulders, and he finally added his fingers into the mix then— his middle and ring fingers easily breaching through, grazing all of your sensitive spots from the inside. You had to press your palm against your mouth to not let a sound then, when your climax finally hit you, and you'd probably slide right off the table with how quaky your whole body was at that moment if it wasn't for Carmen's strong grip on your body, holding you right where you belong.

The position was a bit merciless on his legs so far but he made it up to his feet again, giving you a light peck on your lips before his fingers found his mouth, his tongue circling the digits to clean them up as he stared right at you, into your soul. He pulled them out with a slight pop, and licked his lips clean. "How long did we take?"

"I don't know," you panted out. "I was busy imagining the way you come."

His light laughter brought a tender, yet bittersweet ache to your heart. "Fuck, you get off to that?" and you could tell him all about just how beautiful he was, and how much it turned you on to see him blissed out in pleasure— but you didn't know if your lung capacity allowed for it at that moment, as being quiet came with the benefit of holding your breath for longer than you should. "Tell me more."

You giggled against his lips when he braced himself on the desk with his two hands holding onto the edge on both sides of your thighs. Both of your hands moved down to the front of his pants, too fucked out to care about timing as you palmed him through the material just to see that grin on his lips falter. "I'm gonna make you jack off and watch sometime." you mumbled, slowly pulling the zipper down after setting him free from the belt and the button. He hummed, forehead to forehead, before reaching for another little peck.

"As much as I don't see why I should jack off while you're in front of me," he spoke, a sharp intake of breath cutting his line of thought halfway through when your fingers finally wrapped around his cock. "but— shit, if you're into that… Only if you do it w'me, though. I wanna watch too."

"You don't get to watch." you sighed, bringing him closer with your legs to line his length up with your entrance. "You're just gonna sit there and come on your hand like a loser."

Carmen couldn't help the short snort that left him. "Are you even capable of being mean to me?"

"Mm-hm, I'm very mean when I wanna be." and right after that, his tip slid right into your cavern, pulling a deep exhale from both of you when he pushed a bit deeper. His lips found yours, mostly to keep the noises at bay while his hips rolled into yours, grinding against you before retreating a little, only to push in harder this time around.

You felt so full and blessed that you didn't even have to imagine anything to get lost in the feeling.

His pants slid further downwards with each thrust until they pooled around his ankles and your thighs wrapped tighter around his body, trapping him in. His arms were so delicately wrapped around your waist that you had to hold onto him with your whole remaining power to not slide further towards the wall, but he couldn't exactly notice that when he was feeling so damn lucky, whole length wrapped in a warmth beyond his comprehension.

And again, you couldn't blame him, because neither of you managed to notice when the skin slapping against skin got a bit too loud, and your lips pulled away from his just to breathe out the filthiest little nothings, like how much you needed him to fill you right up to the brim. "Fuck, give it to me." your hips met his thrusts half-way through when you pushed yourself against him. "Carmy, come inside me, please."

"Yeah? Are you gonna take it all?" his voice sounded broken, and his fingers would surely leave imprints on your hips with how tight his grip was. "Won't let you waste a drop, baby. I won't."

Somehow, through how feral he was with the way you were begging him, the responsible side came forward and captured your lips in his again— because while his team was full of respectful people, they were also little shits who would never live it down if they heard those beautiful sounds that escaped your lips with each hit of his blunt head against your sweet spot. The thought somehow egged him on further— he couldn't exactly decide if he was too possessive to let anyone hear or if he was possessive enough to make sure everyone knew he belonged to you, but at that moment, both of those thoughts turned him on too much, enough for him to feel his high approaching. And judging by the way your walls cramped down on him tighter with each passing second, you weren't too far behind.

You could feel yourself gushing around him, coating both of you in your essence beyond simple cleaning, but that was a matter to worry about later, not when the love of your life was balls-deep inside of you, his rough grunts right against your ear when he reached to press his lips right below it. "Close?" he mumbled, and even though your mind was too busy to hear and comprehend him properly, you nodded— feeling his arms wrapping around you tighter, pulling you closer to the warmth his body provided. And while as much as you'd like to keep this going for longer, witnessing his pace falter and voice break as he moaned out your name, filling you up in the most delicious way slowly was enough to have your eyes roll to the back of your head in pleasure, and to have the knot finally snap.

Your whole body was buzzing, shaky even when he held you so tight against his chest as if you'd vanish right there and then— something that he always did after sex, no matter the circumstance. You giggled wearily against his shoulder, leaving a few kisses here and there before he pulled away slightly to pull you into a kiss— nothing like the ones you shared in the past minutes, this one was all sweet and loving. "Might drip if I pull out."

"You can't stay there forever, Carm."

"Oh, but I want to." he huffed out but still moved to slowly pull out of you anyway, having you both hiss in sensitivity and just like he thought, his come was ready to spill all over the place. Quick-thinker in nature, he caught his seed with his fingers right before they could go further, pushing them back into you just to hear you gasp— and slap his shoulder playfully.

"You're a fucking freak."

"Shut up— round two at my place? Kinda wanna see where that watching me jerk off fantasy of yours might lead us."

a/n: once again i could be easily manipulated into breaking into your house with a part two, who knows

also @carmensberzattos consider this a marriage proposal

[dreamwritesimagines]

The Eye of the Hurricane [23] - Curiosity

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback, you made my day! ❤️I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think! ❤️

Summary: Relatives tend to pry.

Word Count: 2400

Pairing: MobBoss!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Violence, guns, crime, blood, explicit language, dysfunctional relationship, mentions of sex, mentions of period, mentions of pregnancy. This is an AU, friendly reminder that I don’t condone any of the actions depicted on this story and please read with care.

Series Masterlist

“Charm, I have a question.”

You applied your lipstick, completely focused on your reflection in the mirror. “Hm?”

“Why do we keep having dinners with people we hate?”

You scoffed a laugh, then put the cap back on the lipstick before turning to Bucky.

“I wouldn’t say I hate my aunt,” you said. “I hate her son, not her. She’s just…”

“What?”

“Annoying.”

“I’ll rephrase my question, why do we keep having dinners with annoying people?”

You leaned back to the vanity. “Because we have complicated families, Bucky. I know it’s news for you.”

His phone vibrated and he read the text before typing in his reply.

“I have this thing—”

“Don’t even fucking try it!” you cut him off. “We’re married dickhead, you’re going to suffer with me. It’s on the prenup.”

“Tomorrow,” Bucky finished his sentence as if you didn’t interrupt him. “I have this thing tomorrow so I’ll have no time for lunch after the therapist—did you seriously put I’d suffer with you on the prenup?”

“Figuratively.”

He shot you a grin. “We’re the best married couple I know.”

You tried to hide your smile by pursing your lips together and turned around, then leaned in to check yourself in the mirror again, pretending to fix your lipstick. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Bucky eyeing you up and down, his intense gaze sending a shiver down your spine and you arched a brow.

“Whatever you’re thinking, you’d better not say it,” you warned him and he chuckled.

“Am I that obvious?”

“Just a little.”

“It’s just that…”

“Bucky.”

“You look beautiful.”

“Something tells me beautiful wasn’t the word in your mind.”

“Sweetheart,” he said. “You’re basically bent over in front of a mirror in that dress, there are so many things in my mind.”

You straightened your back to shoot him a look and he held up his hands, gesturing surrender.

“You asked.”

“Can you perhaps be less horny when we’re about to have dinner with my family?”

“I’ll try.”

“Much appreciated,” you deadpanned as you walked past him, with him following you behind out of the apartment. You pressed the button on the elevator, then took a deep breath.

“We’re not shooting or threatening anyone tonight,” you said and Bucky tilted his head.

“Are you telling me or yourself that?”

You clicked your tongue. “Both.”

                                            *

You had never really liked spending time with your aunt even before your father started pitting you and Ian against each other for the heir position. At least she was never really around when you were growing up, even after Ian moved in with you, but she liked dropping by in the town from time to time.

And commenting on literally anything about you, from your relationships to how you looked.

Your aunt wasn’t even the only reason why this dinner was probably going to be tense as hell. Bucky was still furious at your father for the shit he pulled back at that dinner with the other families, so now you had to make sure no one started any fights while adamantly ignoring whatever your aunt would say to you.

Lovely.

“You must tell me all about the wedding!” your aunt said. “Starting with before it, actually. How did this—” she motioned between you and Bucky. “happen?”

Bucky gave her a charming smile.

“Well I suppose I managed to convince her,” he said. “Or after a while she got bored of rejecting me?”

“Reject you?” your aunt asked with a laugh. “Oh I can’t be the only one who remembers how she used to follow you around like a puppy, Y/N you were so adorable with that little schoolgirl crush!”

You stared at her for a moment, then heaved a sigh.

“Yeah, then I grew up and grew out of it.”

“Obviously not, sweetheart,” your father said, making Ian bite down a smirk and you gritted your teeth, the memory of Bucky turning you down that night flashing before your eyes.

What was it, he had called you?

Daddy’s spoiled whiny princess.

“I’m glad you didn’t,” Bucky said with a boyish grin and you reached out to grab your glass to take a sip of your wine.

Despite everything, despite you and Bucky getting along well nowadays, you still couldn’t shake off the resentment of that night. The anger, how pathetic he made you feel, it was still there even after years, but you frowned slightly, trying to focus.

“I suppose I should have seen this coming, there was this one time,” your aunt said with a laugh. “Back when you were in high school, I found your diary, do you remember?”

Your heart skipped a beat. “I remember you reading it, yeah.”

“I just wanted to make sure you were safe!” your aunt said. “What with you sneaking out of the house at night, I was almost positive you had a bad influence boyfriend. That’s what your mother would have wanted, God rest her soul, for someone to keep an eye on you.”

Your father heaved a sigh, taking a sip of his wine at the mention of your mother and you raised your brows.

“Anyways, I didn’t have anything to worry about—”

“Auntie,” you said warningly and she waved a hand in the air.

“Oh it was years ago Y/N, get over it—pages and pages about you,” she told him as the pins and needles of embarrassment sunk into your cheeks while a cocky smile curled Bucky’s lips.

“Seriously?”

“I swear,” your aunt said and Ian hummed.

“I remember that fight.”

“Yeah that’s what happens when someone invades someone’s privacy,” you said, forcing yourself not to look at Bucky who looked very pleased with himself for some reason. Your aunt let out a small laugh.

“We’re family,” she said. “These things happen.”

“Did you read Ian’s diary as well?”

“I didn’t keep a diary.”

“And it was years ago,” your father said. “Let’s not have the same fight again, hm? Because the last I remember, you threw multiple vases at the wall during that fight sweetheart.”

You bit at your tongue and cleared your throat.

“How was Monaco?” you tried to change the subject and your aunt shrugged her shoulders.

“That’s a long story,” she said. “But there’s no place like home, that’s all I’ll tell you.”

“Another break up?” you asked her and she narrowed her eyes, but unsurprisingly, the men around the table missed the curt glare you two threw at each other.

“Can’t I be back because I miss you all?” your aunt asked after a beat. “I would’ve been here for the wedding as well if you two hadn’t rushed it.”

“It was a beautiful ceremony,” your father said and she nodded.

“Honestly, with how rushed it was I told your father perhaps it was because there was something to rush about. There isn’t though, is there? I mean you’re drinking.”

You forced yourself to smile, then shook your head. “No.”

Bucky frowned, looking between you two before a look of realization dawned on his face.

“Ah no,” he said. “That’s not why. To be fair, rushing was kind of my fault. I’ve been in love with her forever, so I didn’t want to wait any longer. Thankfully she agreed.”

“And when can we expect that?” your aunt asked with a smile and Bucky choked on his wine before clearing his throat.

“Hm?”

“Not for a very long time,” you said and your father nodded with an uncomfortable expression on his face.

“I’m too young to be a grandfather, Nora.”

“Oh nonsense,” she told him. “You know what this business is like, and they’re in love! Obviously they want babies if they rushed the wedding. Have you two talked about how many yet?”

“I’m sorry, how many?” you repeated and she nodded.

“It’s good to be clear about the future, no? And Y/N once said she wanted two so Bucky, how many?”

Bucky blinked a couple of times and cleared his throat again.

“Uh…babies?”

“No, guns,” your aunt said with a laugh. “Of course babies!”

Bucky shot you a look as if begging you for help and you sat up straighter.

“That’s not in our plans right now.”

“But in the future?” your aunt insisted. “I mean surely you must have a number in mind.”

Bucky swallowed thickly, stealing a look at you. “Like um, like four maybe?”

You gawked at him. “I’m sorry, did you just say four?”

Bucky nodded his head.

“Yeah because you know, big family would be nice.”

“You—you do realize that for someone to have four kids, they’d have to spend three years as pregnant in total?” you asked him. “It’s basic math.”

“You want two, he wants four, three seems to be the perfect number,” your aunt joked and your father ran a hand over his face.

“They’ve just gotten married,” he reminded her. “It’s too early to talk about all that. More wine?”

You knew you and Bucky’s marriage was a sham and that you’d get a divorce as soon as you took over, but what you didn’t know was why exactly imagining Bucky having babies with someone else in his second marriage bothered you this much. The mere image was enough to churn your stomach, anger shooting through your system for some reason and you pursed your lips together, then held out your wine glass as well.

“Yes please.”

                                             *

Alright, this was getting ridiculous.

Even you knew that you were throwing a fit out of nowhere, but that did nothing to calm you down. Ever since last night, your head was full of the image of Bucky having the picture-perfect family after your divorce, so you had been in a particularly cranky mood since then. You had barely said two words to him when you came home, going straight to bed and when you woke up, you were still sulking.

Bucky had asked you what was going on multiple times, you had no idea how to explain the fact that you didn’t want him to have perfect babies and be perfectly happy with a perfect woman in a perfect marriage without sounding selfish.

Which, in all honesty was incredibly selfish.

So when the psychiatrist sat down in front of you two, it took her a couple of seconds of complete silence to motion between you two.

“I’m sensing a bit of tension?”

“You and me both,” Bucky said. “I have zero idea why. Charm?”

You narrowed your eyes, then crossed your arms.

“He has a housewife kink.”

“Whoa!” Bucky exclaimed, his eyes going wide. “What?!”

“I’m guessing you haven’t talked about kinks before then?”

“Well, it was news to me.”

“It’s also news to me!” Bucky told you. “Charm, what the fuck?”

“Sex is a huge part of—”

“Sex is fine,” Bucky told Dr. Raynor before turning to you. “What’s going on?”

“If you want someone who’s gonna—who’s gonna—” you couldn’t help but stammer. “Like, stay in a cottage and bake pies, it's fine if she wants to, everyone has their own goals but I'm not that person and—”

“What are you even talking about?!”

“Alright, let’s take a breather,” Dr. Raynor said. “How would you describe your sex life, Bucky?”

“I would not.”

“Y/N.”

“It has nothing to do with sex, it has everything to do with the fact that he wants four babies.”

“What does it even matter?” Bucky asked you and you let out a scoff.

“It just does,” you told him. “First you pushed me out of the picture with Anna, and now I find out—”

“Jesus Christ, we talked about this!”

“Who’s Anna?”

“I’m glad you asked,” you told Dr. Raynor with a forced smile. “His new employee that he decided to hire even if I was told I would be involved in every single business decision and if you ask Bucky, it’s totally coincidental. Even if she’s hot as fuck.”

“Are you on your period or something?” Bucky asked you and your jaw dropped, fury shooting through you.

“Excuse you?”

He rolled his eyes. “That’s the only explanation I can think of for this nonsense.”

“Don’t ever ask me if I’m on my period again or I—”

“Let’s calm down,” Dr. Raynor said. “May I ask what brought this on?”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Bucky deadpanned, glaring at you and you took a deep breath.

“We had a deal before we got married,” you told her. “About me being involved in the business decisions.”

“It’s not even a big business decision for God’s sake,” Bucky said. “I told you before, it’s a trial period with Anna, that’s all.”

“And this…housewife kink?” Dr. Raynor said and Bucky rolled his eyes again.

“I’m not even going to dignify that with an answer,” he said. “What does it matter, Charm? Hm? Considering the deal?”

You gritted your teeth and stole a look at Dr. Raynor before scoffing.

“I just don’t want to be pushed out of the picture when you find the person whom you want to have four babies with, alright?”

“Do you think you’ll get a divorce?” Dr. Raynor asked and you shifted your weight.

“Well, that’s always a possibility.”

Dr. Raynor frowned and Bucky gritted his teeth, an annoyed grin curling his lips before he clicked his tongue.

“No one is pushing you out of the picture, Charm.”

“I think we should talk about this insecurity though,” Dr. Raynor said and you let out a small laugh.

“I’m not insecure,” you said, your voice going a pitch higher. “I’m just saying like…I don’t want four babies.”

“And is this a deal breaker for you, Bucky?”

“I honestly don’t give a fuck,” Bucky said. “I was just speaking hypothetically, and before you ask again, she was the one who came up with that whole housewife kink thing—you have an actual kink for medieval knights, I’m not saying anything about that.”

“I don’t have a kink for medieval knights!”

“Do you mind if I give you both homework?” Dr. Raynor cut off your bickering. “How many times a week do you have sex?”

You and Bucky stared at each other before turning to her.

“Uh—” Bucky cleared his throat. “Charm?”

“Couple times?” you said like a question and Dr. Raynor hummed.

“I want you both to keep an intimacy journal.”

Bucky gawked at her. “Sorry, what?”

“An intimacy journal,” she said. “I want you both to write down how sex affects your communication and dynamic, how it feels before, during and after, and before the week is over, you will try one fantasy you’re both comfortable with, and write about how it made you feel.”

Bucky threw his head back, pinching the bridge of his nose and you nodded slowly, shifting your weight on the couch.

“Sex journal,” you muttered. “Wonderful.”

Chapter 24

[sanakiras]

LIAR, LIAR! [TEASER]

PAIRING — kim mingyu x reader

WORD COUNT — 1.4k (full fic will be 20k+)

RELEASE DATE — TBA, will probably take a while!

SYNOPSIS — in a dramatic turn of events, a rich businessman is found dead in his lavish estate, and the authorities believe it was no accident. as the detectives dig deeper, they ultimately end up with two key suspects: you, the businessman’s very own daughter, and your sworn enemy, kim mingyu. as the time progresses, tensions rise and secrets spill — and the truth has the power to either bring you closer together or tear you apart.

TAGS — murder mystery, rich rivals to partners in crime to lovers, whole lotta plot, dark comedy if u ask me, explicit sexual content, somewhat graphic depictions of death, everyone and everything is dysfunctional™, mentions of suicide, moral compass is nowhere to be found, angst

♪ aquartos - crystal city,, verydeadly - wolves (kanye west cover),, blue foundation - eyes on fire (4 ave version),, low - dancing and blood,, vessel - red sex

NOTE — one of my favorite episodes of going seventeen remains bad clue 2020, i loved mingyu’s role in it and i could totally see him portraying darker/morally grey characters and rock tf out of it so. i wrote this solely based on that idea. enjoy :D

i. TWO WEEKS SINCE THE MURDER

the interrogation room is unnecessarily bright, the noise of the water dispenser in the corner and the flickering led light above you running through your ears. the chair you’re seated on is uncomfortable, though it’s nothing compared to the tension you feel as the man in front of you treats you like you’re guilty of something.

“on september 2nd, sometime around six o’clock, your father reportedly got unwell, so he left his office early, choosing to do the rest of his paperwork at home. according to the information we got from the gps tracker in his car, he went straight home, took no detours. he arrived at your family estate thirty minutes later. then at eight o’clock, the police received a call from you, saying your father’s hung himself.”

you stare at the the inspector whose name you did not bother remembering before waving with your hand. “i’m aware. i’ve heard the recap of events many times at this point. this isn’t the first time i’m being interrogated, surprisingly enough.”

with a puzzled look, he raises his brow at you. “you don’t think you should be a suspect?”

“no, i don’t.”

“at the time of the incident, you were home, as well as two members of the staff. since the staff were on their dinner break and you were apparently in your room, it’s hard to say what happened, since there were no witnesses.”

“do you mind me asking why you think it’s murder and not just a suicide?”

he’s intrigued by the way you discuss the topic so casually. “your father was an important man. wouldn’t you want to know who killed him if that is the case?”

“sure. i’d thank them.” you smile at him, the hatred for your father shining through. “believe me, inspector — my father was a miserable man who surrounded himself with other miserable people. i wasn’t there by choice.”

“did he treat you badly, then?” he continues, trying to pry any information out of you.

you can only sigh. “i was his daughter by blood only. that’s all.”

with your demeanor softening into something sadder, the inspector’s tone changes into something different. “aside from you, and the staff, of course, we do have another suspect who we think could have something to do with your father’s death.”

that sparks your interest. “who?”

the inspector grabs his small pile of documents to pull a printed photo out of it, putting it before you. you visibly frown, because the person on the photo is someone you’re unfortunately awfully familiar with.

“kim mingyu is a suspect? seriously?” you ask, completely in shock. ironically, he’s the last person you’d suspect in a scenario like the one you currently find yourself in.

“what can you tell me about him?”

“he’s a year younger than me. we went to the same high school, same university, have some of the same friends. though all of that is relatively common in our social circle.”

“anything else?”

keeping the insults to yourself for now, you press your lips together. “our parents are good friends. well, were, now that my father’s gone. mingyu and i hate eachother to the bone, though.”

“any particular reason why?”

“i’m not sure where it started… there’s just something off about him. it’s always been there. he’s—beyond arrogant. always showing off his looks, his wealth, his charm, his intelligence. everything. he insults me, i insult him. we simply don’t get along, never have. nothing you haven’t seen before, i’m sure.”

the inspector raises his brow. “i think you may have left something out.”

“such as?”

his hand moves into the blue folder sitting on the table, taking another photo out of it, holding it up before you. “your father was often spotted with him. at events, business meetings — you name it. matter of fact, your father seemed to be accompanied by kim mingyu more than anyone else. which is interesting, considering you are his only child.”

your gaze turns sour, voice softer yet more hateful than before. “don’t tell me this is the reason i’m a suspect.”

“let’s just say it doesn’t make you look good.”

“you really believe i murdered my own father in cold blood because he cared more about kim mingyu than he ever did about me? that’s pathetic and ridiculous.”

“you wouldn’t be the first. it’s a plausible story.”

scoffing at the accusation, you shake your head. “we’re done here. the moment you have an actual lead, i’ll talk, but not like this. i’m still here grieving and you’re accusing me of being the culprit.” you get up in anger, taking your bag with you before slamming the door shut, not bothering to listen to what the man is trying to tell you to make you stay.

this whole shit-train started two weeks ago. your father was found dead in your childhood home, hung by a rope around his neck. instead of calling it a death by suicide, the police apparently have enough reason to suspect it was a homicide.

you’ve been questioned several times in the past few weeks, but there’s been a gradual shift in the behavior of the inspector and his handimen — they’re treating you like a suspect now.

which you are, for whatever reason. they have yet to come up with any actual evidence.

your contact in the police force mentioned to you that you’re not just any suspect — you’re one of the two main suspects.

and that is unsettling, especially when you discovered who else is.

as you go down the hall, you suddenly lock eyes with kim mingyu himself, who’s leaning against the wall with his hands in the pockets of his trousers. a few strands of hair hover by his cheeks, framing his strong features.

“what the fuck are you doing here?” you ask in a rather hostile manner, the scowl on your face deepening.

his lips part before he starts explaining. “they wanted to talk to me. again.”

“haven’t you heard the rumors, gyu?” you mockingly use the nickname, taking a step closer to him, “they’re saying there’s a possibility you killed him.”

your arch-nemesis looks back at you with a furrowed brow. “that’s ridiculous.”

“is it? you were always with him… it’s perhaps the only thing that makes sense in all of this.”

he seems offended you’d even insinuate something like that. “it’s really the other way around, though. you’re the one who hated him. i had nothing against the man.”

it’s true that you and your father didn’t exactly get along, especially the past few years, to put it lightly. you always considered him to be greedy, cold and unforgiving, and you certainly didn’t cry the moment they told you he had passed away.

“no, we all know how much you liked him,” you hardly make an effort to hide your disdain, “but they must not believe that, considering you’re just as much of a suspect as i am.”

he clenches his jaw. “i’m not guilty.”

“neither am i.”

it’s quiet for a moment as you’re both unsure of what to say next, a rarity between you.

a few years ago, your father mentioned you and mingyu could make a good pair. you proceeded to laugh in his face.

mingyu is a constant reminder of what you could be, and that’s the last thing you need in your life.

“if i find out you’re somehow involved in this—”

instead of immediately refuting the statement, he narrows his eyes at you. “then what?”

you realize you need to be careful with your words here — you can’t throw around threats to kill people as the top suspect in a murder investigation. “i’ll make sure you pay for it. they might buy your little golden-boy act, but i sure as shit don’t. i never have.”

a smirk subtly tugs at his lips as he leans more down, eyes flicking lower before they meet yours again. “i’d be careful with my words if i were you,” he firmly tells you, his lashes fluttering, “there’s always someone watching.”

only now do you take notice of how close you’re standing to him, and you look behind you, seeing the inspector that just interrogated you observing you and mingyu from a distance.

so you push yourself away from him, giving him a last glare before walking away.

mingyu’s eyes remain on you until you move past the corner. he only moves from his spot once you’re gone from his field of view, greeting the inspector with a kind smile.

if you’d like to be tagged in this once it’s released, leave a comment! <3

® SANAKIRAS — do not repost, remake or copy my work in any way whatsoever. translations are not allowed.

[weebsinstash]

something that I think would be, truly one of the worst things about the yandere Batfamily really truly is their power to make any and every problem you've ever had completely go away in no time at all

it can be such an awful feeling to see that you struggled in vain with something that was nothing at all to someone else. You could have significant issues that have followed you all your life and have had traumatic impacting effects on you and these people could come in and sweep that all away. Student loans you've been paying off for years, if not a fraction of your lifespan, still burying you in debt? We are talking fucking decimal points on the scale of Bruce Wayne's wealth. That bad leg from an old work injury? Let's grab you one of the best doctors in Gotham, if not the entire world, fuck, we may even get you a doctor or medicine that isn't even human-made! Y'all want a magic leg? We know this chick who can speak backwards, you want a magically healed leg?

Crippling loneliness? Eternal sunshine and objectively best Robin Dick Grayson is here to brighten your entire world since he knows what it can feel like to be hurting and alone and he's literally like the heart and soul of the entire manor besides Alfred

Chronic pain, an undiagnosed disability, or maybe you're not confident in your fitness? Jason has extensive knowledge of injury recovery, physical therapy, and overall knowledge about human biology and musculature and how everything correlates

Family issues? Daddy issues? Let Resident Troubled Kid Expert Alfred Pennyworth be your new grandpa. He's dealt with more than one temperamental snappy individual, and he'll use his patience, experience, and wit to wear down all your stress and hostility. It's hard to keep being cruel to someone who's nothing but kind to you, and he has plenty of patience and delicious baked treats to hold out until you give in

Honestly just the fact most of them are so fucking young would get under my skin. You could be approaching your 30s and be sitting here at the Wayne family dinner table as their weird sister/mom/girlfriend/whatever and being all "I've just always had these struggles my entire life, I dont know what's wrong with me, I feel like I can't control how I act or feel and I hate it" and someone like Tim who depending on the source material and where you are on the timeline is a literal teenager with extensive knowledge of criminals and psychology is just over here, "oh, that? You have chronic childhood trauma, recurring resurfacing conflict related ptsd, severe abandonment issues, emotional regulation problems that are probably biological, and also you probably have autism, and there's nothing wrong with any of that :)" and then he turns to Bruce and starts talking about how his school is taking a trip abroad to Greece while you sit there processing that everyone around the table has extensively psychologically evaluated you and you probably have your own file on the Batcomputer (you do. It's excessive.)

It's just. The psychology of having all these problems you've struggled with be wiped away by someone else like it's nothing and how, that can result in making someone feel all the more worthless and helpless. Oh, Bruce was able to just make all your problems disappear? Clearly YOU weren't trying hard enough. Tim is able to suss out what's wrong with you? Well YOU'RE the dysfunctional idiot who was born wrong, and YOU were the one choosing the wrong doctors. You're watching all these young teenagers or young adults be vigilantes and travel the world and learn multiple languages and you're like. Normal guy Steve from the grocery store. You know? They take control of your life and make you feel like a side character in it, because everything you do is now attached to them, and all of them and all of their adventures are so... spectacular

And really, someone with a meaner heart, and maybe someone more blunt like, say, Damian, could perhaps come in and make some comment, "see? This is why you needed our assistance in caring for you" and what are you gonna do, NOT act like they basically fixed your entire life in less than a year's time, with the one objection of kidnapping and imprisonment? You're just over here, "um yeah, actually, I'm an adult and I can take care of myself, you don't need to TAKE CARE OF ME???" meanwhile Bruce and Alfred are exchanging knowing looks while you speak as if the old butler hadn't needed to help you call your doctor and other important urgent matters because being on the phone with strangers gave you such intense anxiety. Ok yes sure honey you are a lovely functional adult and your brain is big and beautiful and perfect 🥰 now shut up about going to live back home on your own, go play Xbox with your new brothers or go bake something with Grandpa while the world's greatest detective sits down in the Batcave using the Batcomputer to track down and "have a friendly chat" with that one childhood teacher that gave you that one really specific trauma-

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Day 16: Yes, no, maybe

Masterlist flufftober 🎃

Reblog if you liked it!

Yes, no, maybe. I don't know. Can you repeat the question?

Spencer had gotten used to hearing that song as the opening theme every Friday, from your TV. One day at work, you referred to one of your favorite sitcoms, and you were quite surprised that the young man didn’t understand what you were talking about.

It turned out that the doctor had extensive knowledge in practically all areas, but entertainment was his weak point. So when you found out he had never seen Malcolm in the Middle, you basically forced him into having weekly meetings at your house to watch all the seasons.

At first, Spencer wasn’t too thrilled, as that genre of television wasn’t his favorite, but after the first season, it turned out that he was quite enjoying the show. The sharp humor, the cleverly written plots, the chaotic and dysfunctional family... all the elements seemed to have captivated his attention.

Many times, for both health and economic reasons, you prepared food at home for dinner. But that day, you decided to treat yourselves and ordered a large pizza with a six-pack of beer for you and lemonade for your friend.

You were both comfortably settled on your couch, ready to start the next episode, when you heard Spencer speak.

“I have a theory.”

“About what?”

“About Malcolm's family”

“Hmm,” you hummed, with your mouth full of pepperoni pizza. “I’m listening.”

“I’ve been thinking, and I believe Hal suffers from compulsive lying and gambling addiction, in addition to clearly seeking a mother figure in Lois. She has obsessive-compulsive disorder, needing to control everything to feel that things will go well; I’d say she’s a bit narcissistic as well, and she’s addicted to nicotine. Francis is completely impulsive, and I would even dare say he suffers from oppositional defiant disorder. Reese displays sociopathic and antisocial behaviors and has low self-esteem that he reflects through violence. Malcolm is gifted, of course, but also has antisocial and narcissistic behaviors, and is even a bit controlling and self-pitying, as if he had the worst of each of his parents. Dewey has musical genius; he’s somewhat introverted but quite sensible, and I want to think he’s the least toxic in the family. I mean, considering the family environment they’re in, they could be worse, but I couldn’t help but notice those psychological peculiarities in each character.”

Throughout the time Spencer had been speaking, you watched him attentively, and when he finished, you let out a loud laugh.

“Reid, when did you have time to think about all that?”

“This week! I started to remember, and somehow I needed to talk to you about the psychology of each family member. I think it’s very interesting; that’s why.”

“Only you could watch a show like this and come to those conclusions,” you laughed friendly.

In the background, the sound of the Wilkerson brothers fighting actively filled the room, and suddenly your friend became shy.

“But what do you think? Do you think I’m right?”

“On all points. It’s a very accurate analysis, yes,” you murmured playfully, taking a sip of your beer. “Who’s your favorite character so far?”

“I think Dewey. He seems very sweet and small… I don’t know, I think he’s a very noble and intelligent boy. Malcolm makes the mistake of letting his ego control him; otherwise, he would be my favorite.”

“Mine is Francis,” you confessed. “When I was a teenager, I was hopelessly in love with him.”

“That makes sense. I think because of your childhood experiences, you seek those chaotic situations in the opposite sex. In your partners, more specifically.”

“Oh, so now you’re psychoanalyzing me?”

“If we’re talking about psychoanalysis from a Freudian perspective, of course not. But Jung, on the other hand, had some contributions that I think are more suitable…”

“Reid,” you interrupted, placing one of your hands on his arm to get his attention. “You know I love hearing you ramble about all that, but do you really want to do such a deep analysis about this? About Malcolm in the Middle?”

It wasn’t a complaint, of course; you just sounded amused by the situation.

“You’re right; I’m sorry. I don’t even know why I’ve thought so much about it.”

“That’s how the minds of geniuses work, I guess,” you joked, giving him a playful shove with your shoulder. “But now I want you to relax; let your brain shut off a little so you can enjoy silly TV situations and eat pizza like any of us mortals.”

Your friend nodded, feeling strange about all the thoughts that had arisen from something as bland as a sitcom, and he settled back into the couch, asking you for another piece of pizza. You spent the entire time laughing, eating, and drinking beside him, chatting occasionally about the show or really anything else.

Suddenly, you started to find resemblances between the characters on your TV and your colleagues in the unit, and when you dared to compare Ida, Lois’s mother, with Chief Erin Strauss, he broke into loud laughter. You rarely heard him laugh so freely, and inevitably, you felt contagious with joy, even if your joke hadn’t been that funny.

“I think she does look a bit alike,” he finally said, practically sprawled on the couch from laughter. “Especially in… you know, her particular personality.”

“Do you think you would have been in the advanced class of brainiacs that Malcolm is in?”

“Of course.”

“Show-off!” you exclaimed, teasing him for the confidence with which he had spoken while playfully shoving him.

You settled in better and pulled a blanket that was nearby so that you two could cover yourselves at least from your legs to your laps. This involved shortening the distance between you, but it didn’t bother you at all.

“I like watching TV with you,” he suddenly murmured, finishing his last piece of dinner. Spencer didn’t like the crusts of the pizza, and you always offered to eat them for him, so that night was no exception.

“I like it a lot too. It’s like… we’re getting rid of a bit of all the stress from work, right?”

“Yeah, I believe so.”

“Especially if it’s with my best friend at work.”

“Am I your best friend at work?”

“Don’t get too excited. You are because I don’t have many options.”

The man let out a hearty laugh, but he took the compliment anyway. In silence, you continued watching the comedy until, at some point during the night, Spencer spoke:

“You’re also my best work friend. And that’s saying something, considering I do have more options.”

With a smile on your face, you leaned over to kiss him on the cheek soundly, like a little girl would do with her preschool friend. It was innocent and sincere.

In the presence of the cold creeping under your feet, you both cuddled closer to each other (in the most respectful and friendly way possible) and continued enjoying the marathon, quite happy to at least be able to steal a couple of hours from the busy life you led.

[ventique18]

The way Malleus is grateful that Maleficia spends time once a year to write him a birthday card is really sad. We know that he eats alone everyday, which means she couldn't even join him for dinner and probably very rarely steps out of her office/room. This sounds unreasonable to me. Tbh I don't think she's that busy. I don't think she's required to be that busy.

I think she's probably miserable and overworking is her form of coping. To get lost in responsibilities so she wouldn't have the mind space to think about her dead family. She's probably caging herself so she wouldn't have to see beyond the windows; so she could stay in the past and not dwell on what her kingdom-- her life has become.

Honestly I think she needs to retire. Their entire land is stagnating along with her; stuck in the ghost of what they were rather than what they can still be. And the way she's completely dependent on Lilia suggests she doesn't even trust other people and doesn't ask others to help her with her responsibilities. The way Malleus, her crown prince, constantly talks about being bored in the castle suggests that she doesn't even ask him to help (with things other than parading him during holidays), even when he could.

This family is just so sad and I wish Book 7 either proves me wrong, or does something to mend the depressing dysfunction going on in their family.

[lemonadepinksstuff]

⚠️ SPY X FAMILY 106 SPOILERS ⚠️

//☆

This family is so fucking dysfunctional. This chapter is so hard to get through. All of them are so scared to just talk at all. And it's a complete contrast to the Forgers.

Melinda only asks one question and doesn't speak again.

Demetrius is scarily calm. Likely being so used this kind of dinner.

And poor Damian.. he's still trying to get a conversation of some sort going to no luck.

God help this poor baby :(

[emsprovisions]

❄️ Day 21 - You Can Call Me Babe for the Weekend ❄️

🎁 Today's fic is dedicated to @ironheartwriter! It’s Lana's birthday!!! Go and shower her in birthday wishes and love!

Summary: Carlos agrees to be TK's date to Enzo's family Christmas gathering in New York.

Word count: 1122

24 Days of Tarlos Masterpost

“Uchh,” TK groans, slumping into an empty chair beside Nancy with a bowl of Paul’s chili.

”What’s wrong with you?” She asks, eyeballing her best friend with apprehension.

”I need a date for this Christmas dinner thing my stepdad is hosting,” TK explains.

”Why do you need a date?” Marjan quirks a brow from where she’s seated across the table.

”Because,” TK starts, already beginning to wave his sass hand in the air. “My family will pester me about why I’m still single after Alex dumped me over a year ago. Or they’ll keep bringing him up and rehashing exactly what I did wrong to make my boyfriend be unfaithful to me. It’ll be a whole thing and I’d really rather avoid it. It’s just, how the hell can I find a date less than a week before I need one? And he has to be willing to go to New York with me and my mom.”

”I’ll go with you.”

All eyes around the table snap forward to the cop sitting at the end beside Paul.

Carlos is staring at TK with genuine interest in solving his problem and TK is practically melting inside at the thought of Carlos being his fake date to his dysfunctional family Christmas. He and Carlos have become close friends in the year that TK’s moved to Austin. In fact, he’s the one who invited the patrol officer over for lunch on his shift because he knows Carlos loves Paul’s chili. 

TK also has an embarrassingly huge crush on Carlos, one he knows Nancy is aware of, and she is making eyeballs at him right now and jabbing his calf with her foot to accept Carlos’s offer.

”Oh, that’s so sweet, Carlos, but you don’t have to,” TK shakes his head.

”I’d like to,” Carlos offers TK a small smile. His big, brown eyes get all soft, and TK is nothing but putty in this man’s hands because how could he refuse cow eyes?

He can’t. Which is how he has found himself days later wedged between his mother, bouncing a baby Jonah on her knee, and Carlos, on a plane bound for New York. 

His mom is in on the ruse, Gwyn also aware that her son has feelings for the officer, and she has agreed to play along for the sake of this weekend going smoothly.

Carlos is accepted into the de la Costa family like he’s their own son. He flirts with Tía Carmen, complimenting her and winking like they have years of inside jokes between them. He’s great with the small gaggle of children that are somehow related to Enzo. He even charms Enzo himself, who more often than not never seemed too impressed with the guys TK introduced him to.

It’s at the big family dinner though that Carlos is really put to the test as TK’s boyfriend. They had predetermined many details of their forged relationship, especially after Nancy intervened and brought up her extensive movie and book knowledge on the very subject of fake dating. But of course, the one aspect they somehow hadn’t considered to figure out is asked.

”So, Carlos, how did you and TK meet?” Enzo’s sister asks, as she passes Carlos a bowl of salad.

Carlos grins, looking over at TK beside him before back at Catalina. 

“We were on a call, actually,” Carlos begins. “It was raining, and I’d heard the 126 had a new fire captain, but I hadn’t met him or his son yet. We had to save this baby stuck in a tree and the moment TK laid eyes on me, I Was completely done for. All I could see were these bright green eyes, shining in the headlights. TK probably doesn’t remember this, but he stood beside me and grabbed my shoulder while his dad climbed the ladder himself to save the baby.”

Carlos is wrong. TK does remember all that. What surprises him most though is that Carlos also remembers it.

”I saw him again later that night after work at this honky tonk in Austin and I asked him to dance,” Carlos continues, looking back towards TK and reaching for his hand with a smile. “It was the best decision of my life.”

TK also remembers the line dancing at the bar. He stepped on Carlos’s feet and they laughed and he swore he’d never met anyone more beautiful. But TK was a wrecking ball back then. A hot mess fresh off a relapse and a breakup and he had no business getting involved with anyone else so soon, sexual or otherwise. He still felt too raw, too on edge, and even before he knew Carlos’s name, he knew Carlos deserved better than that. So they became friends. And now TK’s wondering if maybe he ruined their chance to ever be more all the way back then, on that first night they’d met. 

Only Carlos is looking at him like he hung the moon and practically everyone around the table is swooning over Carlos’s story. 

“God, that’s romantic. Dammit, Javier, why can’t you be more like Carlos!” Catalina turns to her own husband to swat at his arm, and the table dissolves into laughter and chatter, and TK can’t stop staring at Carlos.

He catches Carlos’s eye, and Carlos just smiles softly back at him. 

“Aren’t you two the cutest lovebirds,” Abuelita just melts from across the table as she catches them staring at each other. “Reminds me of me and my husband when we were young.”

TK just laughs and squeezes Carlos’s hand. “Hear that, babe? Sounds like Abuelita’s already planning our wedding.”

“I’m just saying,” Abuelita laughs. “I know that look when I see it.”

Later, when they’re alone for the night and trying to solve the issue of only one bed, TK just sinks onto the edge of the mattress, his head still spinning from earlier. “I didn’t know you remembered when we met that well.”

Carlos freezes where he’d been gathering pillows to make a makeshift divider on the bed. “I remember everything about you, TK.”

“What does that mean?” TK furrows his brows at his fake boyfriend. 

“It means I meant every word,” Carlos explains slowly with a small, hopeful smile. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, TK, and I know you weren’t ready for anything back then, but I’ve waited, hoping that one day, you might be.”

TK’s brows shoot to his forehead as he stares at Carlos. 

That night, the pillow divider is abandoned as their clothes end up on the floor, and TK does what he should’ve done all those months ago, and Carlos is even happier to become TK’s real boyfriend than to be his fake one.

[ultimate-marysue]

To all interested in toxic, dysfunctional Batfam/Bad or Abusive Dad Bruce I have a proposition of sorts. As much as I love a Bad Dad Bruce where the kids all comfort and help each other standing up to Bruce, I think it's more likely and more interesting if they're completely isolated and desperate for Bruce's approval.

(If this isn't your cup of tea ignore this post. I'm also a fan of Good dad Bruce and wholesome Batfam but I understand some people are only interested in one or the other and that's valid. There's space for everyone in this fandom. Also TW for discussions of psychological Child Abuse)

How abuse (especially the brand the comics accidentally depict at times and the fandom enjoys portraying) works is more complicated that a Mean Bad Guy and a bunch of sweet and adorable perfect victims that unionize together. You make your victims fight each other, you choose golden children and scapegoat kids to rotate between so none of them gets too comfortable. That creates friction and rivalry even on a subconscious level. You may know logically the abuser is the one creating the situation and yet your brain is annoyed whenever a sibling knocks you down in the Favor pyramid.

No one wants to be the scapegoat and when your abuser seems so big and inescapable, the only way to avoid it is pushing someone else under the bus. Not to mention how you believe their logic. When you're compared favorably to another sibling, you internalize said criticism as moral flaws that you're above off. Which makes you resent said sibling even more when they regain favor and you're left thinking "I did everything right, and yet this failure gets dotted on???!". It's the prodigal son parable, Cain and Abel.

I know this makes your fav character extremely morally grey but I find it fascinating. Like, Tim absolutely despising Jason for being a failure and a killer (victim blaming him), seething when he comes back to the family and Batman begs him to come to dinner because how dare he. Tim's done everything right and he doesn't get half the attention. How he tries to steal the spotlight from Damian, clawing at his role as Batman's side quick because that's all that's ever gotten him positive reinforcement.

Dick constantly compares himself to Cass because he was Batman's original partner, she doesn't get to come and suddenly be the apple of Bruce's eye. He thinks he's over the mind games, moving away and trying to encourage his brothers to raise above this nonsensical competition for Bruce's attention...and yet when it comes to Cass (the only one that threatens his status as Golden Child) he can't help but feel just as defensive as his siblings are with him.

Jason who claims to not need Bruce's love and yet is completely addicted to the intermittent reward of his affection. How he still resents Tim for making it a point to be Bruce's obedient little lapdog, how he still blames Dick for being too perfect to reach.

Damian who is constantly being compared to Tim. Perfect Tim who is so smart, and obedient and socially savvy. How do you get your father to approve of you when your competition is 1) The Original Boy Wonder 2) His most perfect and loyal soldier in the cause 3) The World's Most Dutiful Sidequick. He'll never be as great as Dick, as Devoted as Cass nor as obedient as Tim.

Cassandra knows she's the favorite, and even when Dick briefly usurps her place in Bruce's made up mental hierarchy she knows it won't last. She's too good, and that drives all of her insecure praise-starved siblings up the wall. She may not be purposefully mean, but the end result is the same.

Duke may be the only one escaping mostly unscathed. He's playing along with the whole family thing, but his real parents are alive, he's going back to them as soon as he fixes their situation. He's been in the system since they were jokerized and this is not his first encounter with this kinda dynamic so he's not engaging. He admires Bruce's work, but Batman was never his inspiration. There's no hero worship to blind and entice him, and that low-key scares Bruce. Which is why Duke also gets the golden child treatment, an instinctive attempt at winning him over.

Steph and Barbara often find themselves reeling from the shit they hear from the "Waynes". Because everything makes sense to their internal logic, but the second you talk to an outsider they feel the need to call CPS. I can see them arguing with Tim and Dick respectively and calling them out on the twisted way they talk about their siblings sometimes. Same with Cass.

These are just raw ideas, but I just think if you're going to play around with the concept of abusive Dad Bruce, you can enrich the analysis by reflecting on the consequences of said upbringing. It doesn't mean they can't talk things out and fix it, but acknowledging how abuse twists your brain can give depth to your interpretation. Victims aren't perfect martyrs, if you grow up in a fucked up environment you're gonna think fucked up things. And not all of those are self afflicted and cute, sometimes you're going to think very mean things about your fellow victims. And I'm not even bringing Alfred Sneaky Enabler Pennyworth into this, that's already its own post.

I'm not saying you should never write them banding together for comfort, I'm not even saying that this interpretation is canon (like, at all, it just isn't). I'm just saying I don't see enough of this idea and I wanted to share it.

[actual-changeling]

Heya! Do you have any msr fic Recs?

I do have a lot! My ao3 bookmarks are all public, so you can go and browse those by fandom since I save every single fic I read. Fake/pretend relationship and anything involving them figuring out their relationship while around people are two of my all time favourite tropes. Here are some of my favourites though, they're either oneshots or completed:

Planes, Trains, and Automobiles (~66k, E)

Getting home proves to be challenging for our favourite agents. Set during Season 7, after Millennium.

True Lies (~106k, T)

Post-Terma, Scully can't help but think they need protection against any future kangaroo court congressional hearings and comes up with a rather unconventional solution that she proposes of Mulder.

Since We Fell Apart (~23k, T)

Post One Son, Scully is fed up with playing second fiddle to everything in Mulder's life, and decides it's best to just be done with him. Skinner asks her to work one last case for the X-Files - undercover in Arcadia.

Keep It All the Year (26k, M)

Scully is summoned to San Diego for a funeral at Christmastime, and ropes Mulder into her family dysfunction. Set in S6, canon divergent but not wildly so.

The Whole Story (~2.6k, T) by @sisterspooky1013

If they thought Maggie couldn’t tell when two people are holding hands under the dinner table, they've got another thing coming.

The Marriage Spectacular (~20k, M)

Lost FBI agents. Stormy weather. A marriage retreat in a mountainside inn with one room available.

una via (~19k, M)

Mulder and Scully's changing relationship in the period after Amor Fati.

Plus some of my favourite authors whose works I am still digging through and enjoying a lot. There's nothing better than reading a great fic, going to their profile, and then realizing they have like 100 more of them.

Skinfull @baronessblixen OnlyTheInevitable fragilevixen @danascully77 cecily_sass audries kittenscully

I'm probably forgetting a bunch of people, so you're very much invited to add your favourite fics and/or your own (self promo is explicitly welcomed!!).

[barzfrommarz]

do you have any physical disability headcanons for c!wilbur? if not, how about mental? :0

- harlan

(the c!wilbur fictive of the watchers' vault collective)

YES I DO

-Needs a cane for stability after revival. He noticed the pain starting in late pogtopia but he died before he could address it

-Has been slowly loosing his hearing due to the explosions during L'manburg and on the 16th and eventually from the trains in Limbo. When he comes back his hearing is so fucked he will sometimes completely ignore people without realizing

-Sensory issues make it hard for him to shower because he hates the feeling of water on his skin. His depression also plays a role in his lack of showering

-Intrusive thoughts make it hard for him to function most days. Some days he will spend hours locked up in his house/van constantly checking every lock over and over until he feels better (he gets right back to it a few minutes later)

-His brain is so rattled he will sometimes have absent seizures and no one realizes it. They just think he's spacing out because they dont last long

-arthritis in his wrists makes it hard for him to write, cook, clean etc and he really hates it because he feels like he's weak for not being able to do basic things

-really bad insomnia. Used to take sleep medications but stopped when they started to give him bad nightmares. Now most of the time the longest he sleeps is about 2-5 hours a night. It once got so bad he collapsed and Quackity was the one to find him face down in the sand

-Fibromyalgia causes him to have really bad migraines and some days he cant even get out of bed because of it

-POTS can cause him to completely faint when stands up sometimes but he brushes it off as him not eating enough

-Executive dysfunction hits him hard most days. Sometimes he will just sit there for hours telling himself to get up and then he gets mad at himself for being "lazy"

-HE HAS TOURETTES BECAUSE I HAVE TOURETTES. He hides his tics from others because he fears it makes him look crazy and he knows his reputation is already fucked and he doesn't want to make it worst. This can lead to tic attacks that last a while (and hurt alot)

-His eyesight has gotten progressively worse over the years and he now has cataracts

-His sensory issues make it hard for him to be out in places like las nevadas or sometimes even at a family dinner. He also is really particular about clothes and food

-flashbacks from his c-pstd can cause him to completely shut down for hours and they usually pop up out of nowhere. Some Days he can handle it and others he cant

[zeroclockk]

— ⋆˙⟡ Love Your Feeling (JJK) || Chapter three

- Cold₊˚⊹♡

“How long have you been out? You’re radiating coldness” he says “I left around dinner so like 2,5 hours?” “You walked here?!”

Pair: jjk x femOC, college students, best friends

Word count: 7k

Warning: this chapter includes explicit scenes⚠️

masterlist || taglist

!Friends to Lovers, Protective Brother, Secret Dating, Friends with Benefits, Angst, Mature content, Dysfunctional Family, Fluff, Smut, Mentions of Alcoholism and Abuse

——————————————————————₊˚⊹♡

“Yoongi please” I frantically walk after him, out of my room. He’s ready to fight, can see him rolling up the sleeves of his hoodie. He doesn’t listen to me and opens the front door.

“YOONGI” I yell, which makes him turn around. He sees red, his eyes are dark. It scares me, but I’ve seen it so many times that I’ve gotten used to it.

He lets go of the doorknob and walks towards me, pointing his finger at me.

“You’re staying put, Take care of the drunk,” he says, those words make me boil open. I push him. “You’re not going anywhere! Leave him the fuck alone” I yell.

“Don’t fucking push me!” He yells back at me. Pushes me back, so hard I fall to the ground.

“I’ll ghost him” I plead. I’m worried, so worried something will happen. Something bad. “I’ll ghost him I swear, please don’t leave me alone” Something shifts in his expression as he hears that last sentence.

“I’ll let it slide for now. If I find out you’ve been texting him again, you’ll regret it. understand?” He Threatens. I nod in agreeance.

“Can I please have my phone back..” he throws my phone back at me on the ground, sliding across the floor towards me.

I pick it up, great.. that’s a new crack. He disappears back into his room, slamming his door shut loudly.

It’s about a week after the party. Taehyung had apologized to me, he explained what happened. He told me that it wasn’t what it looked like and that he really enjoyed talking to me that evening.

And about the girl. Apparently, She’d been bothering him for weeks, after he rejected her. She had gone onto him whilst I was gone, way too bold sitting on his lap. That’s what I saw. We exchanged numbers and we’ve been texting ever since.

Yoongi and I were eating dinner when Taehyung texted me, Yoongi saw the notification pop up.

Tae💗:  did you eat yet?

I knew Yoongi was against me dating, but that he’d get this mad? Taehyung and I aren’t even together.

I don’t want to be here, I wanna leave. I grab my zip up hoodie from the coat hanger and leave the apartment. Hood up, it’s one of Jungkook’s that I took some time. It falls over the dress that I'm wearing. Grey and black striped, fold over, off the shoulder, long sleeved. It’s short I know.. but it looks good I can’t lie.

Even with Jungkook’s hoodie over the long sleeve. The late evening cold hits my thighs, and I try to ignore it walking further away from home.

Tears fall from my cheek as I walk and walk and walk. I don’t even know where I am at this point.

By now the sun has completely gone under, only the light of houses and street lanterns that shine on the ground.

I keep my head down, not wanting anyone to see I’m crying. Yoongi has always been so protective, after our dad he feels like he’s responsible in some way. But he seems to forget that I’m my own person, I can care for myself.

He’s taken traits from Dad, he was never a good father. Turned Mum into a drunk and left whenever he wanted to. Still does, haven’t seen him in months. Every time he leaves I hope he doesn’t come back, hope it’ll be the last time I see him. It’s even more insufferable when he’s with us.

My phone buzzes in my pocket, well... Jungkook’s pocket. I grab the phone, to see an incoming call from Jungkook.

“Hello?” I try to sound as normal as possible, it’s difficult since I’ve been frantically crying.

“Bun!! What u up to, wanna do something tonight?” He asks, sounding so happy. it makes me smile a little.

I sniff my tears away “Uhm yeah sure. Yours?” I ask, I don’t really know where else. We never go to mine, with obvious reasoning.

“You okay?” Fuck, he can definitely hear me now. I don’t want to admit anything to him, hate talking about home. I feel like I’ve talked about home too many times by now.

“Yeah no just cold” is what I respond. People sniff when they’re cold.

“You’re out? Why?” He questions.

“Ah just didn’t really feel like staying home.” It’s now the first time I look at where I am, I don’t recognize anything. I’m lost, try to find a bus stop to take to his.

“Where are you, I’ll come pick you up”

“Uhm.. I don’t know, I got lost I think” Who even gets lost in the city they live in, you don’t get lost easily. I can hear him laugh on the other side of the line.

“Stay there sent your location” he hangs up. Nice way of saying goodbye. I scoff at my phone as if he can hear me.

Though I oblige. I sent him my location and sit on a nearby bench.

JK: Yun, you’re like on the other side of the city. Tf😭

I didn’t even notice it. Looking at my location, I even passed the river. It’ll take him at least 30 minutes to get here. I look at the time to see it’s 9 pm, I’ve been gone for like what 2 hours by now?

My phone is on 3% great, I graze my finger across the new crack. It’s a bad one, I can feel it’s sharp as I touch it. Patiently waiting for Jungkook to pick me up.

As expected it takes him about 25 minutes to get to my location, he must’ve driven fast. He honks at me twice, which makes me notice he’s here. I quickly get up and go to his car. I’m absolutely freezing at this point so I’m glad to go somewhere warm.

I open his car door and sit down. “Jeez you look terrible” Is he serious? “Thank you?”

I give him a dirty look, showing that I didn’t appreciate his comment. “Sorry,” he says as he gives me his phone, to put on a playlist I like.  

“What happened, your makeup's all.. blehgg” he says, I have to admit that makes me chuckle a little. “Just Yoongi, I don’t wanna talk about it,” I tell him, and he leaves it at that.

“You can call me anytime you know that, right? How long have you been out? You’re radiating coldness” he says as he drives off.

“I left around dinner so like 2,5 hours?” I respond as I try to cover myself up with his hoodie to warm up a little bit more.

“You walked here?!” He exclaims.

“Yeah..” I didn’t even notice time passed, was purely focused on getting the fuck out of that area.

“What happened? Did your dad come back?” He knows about everything, even knows my family dynamic. “No..”

“Yoongi found out I’d been texting a guy.” I can see his knuckles get white around the steering wheel, he knows how Yoongi thinks of me, dating guys. Experienced it himself, and took Yoongi ages to get convinced we were just friends.

I put on my playlist, Lily Chou Chou now blasting through the speakers.

“Is that my hoodie?” He asks. I look at him, he must’ve noticed me trying to use it as a blanket to get warm. “I should buy you a new one” he adds. The hoodie isn’t in a great state. It’s old, has a big rip on its left arm, the big 7 logo on the back is peeling off a little, it’s flat from how worn out it is, still having the faint smell of his cologne to it.

“No! I like it” I hug myself. “Shows personality” I purse my lips, as it makes him chuckle. “Your outfit looks good, like the dress” he compliments. “Thanks! That‘s why I wore it” he laughs once again, it makes me cheer up a little.

“Gosh I love Lily” I groan, leaning my head on his window. “I know, she’s good,” he says. Too bad she isn’t real, I’d kill to go to a concert of hers. She’d make amazing albums.

Still cold I turn up the heat, adjusting it to make all the fans blow my place. “Still cold?” He asks. “Yeah.. your hoodie is shit,” I say.

It makes him laugh once again, I shoot him a smile.

I feel him reffing up, driving faster. To get home earlier. The roads are pretty empty, due to the time. Most people at home, with their families.

I shiver, I’m not getting warmer. Even the warm wind feels cold to my skin. But it doesn’t take long for Jungkook to park in front of his apartment.

He gets outside of his car, and I follow. His apartment complex is far fancier than where I live. They’ve got an elevator, and clean tiles with some sort of lobby. Nobody works there, so it’s nothing like a reception. Still, it’s more luxurious than mine.

We used to have an elevator, but it broke down. The owner of the building didn’t want to repair it, so we’re forced to take the stairs. It’s old, people throw their rubbish out next to their doors. And then expect it do be magically cleaned up by the next day.

We step into his apartment, and the events of my last visit all come flashing back to me. Haven’t been here since the night of the party. Swear I can still hear it, imagine it.

I ignore it and sit down on their couch. “Mingyu at his girlfriend’s house?” I ask, which makes him nod in response.

“What? you want a redo bun?” He teases. My jaw drops. “How dare you, we promised to never speak of it again,” I say still with a faint smile on my face.

It’d be a good way to warm up though. No, it wouldn’t. No! Na na na. This is Jungkook we’re talking about, Silly Jungkook who sings at 3 am and throws a tantrum whenever I win in Mario Kart.

“Just wanna do what makes you happy bun” he’s been saying that name an awful lot tonight.

He sits down next to me. He turns on the TV and places his hand on my thigh. I tense up immediately, it doesn’t make me uncomfortable, though in some way it does.

He trails his fingers across my inner thigh, not going really high. It feels nice, a little too nice. I try to focus, focus on the TV.

He puts on Friends, we’ve been rewatching it together. Watched it many times already, but it never misses. Probably one of my comfort shows. Something you turn on and just do whatever, a background show that’s also perfectly enjoyable when you pay close attention to it.

I think back to last week, how I had laid on his bed. Exposed like that, his fingers inside of me. His cock in my mouth.

Is this all I had to think about to not be cold? Maybe it’s his touch on my thigh, maybe it’s just really warm in his house.

I cross my legs, making him move his hand back to his lap. I press my thighs together hard, in hopes of feeling some friction. I can’t move a lot because it’ll draw attention to him, so I’m left frustrated.

“Are your legs not tired? From all the walking” he says. “Oh uhm, no not really I guess,” I say after I clear my throat. I’m afraid I ruined my friendship with him, what we did last time was a big mistake. I should’ve thought about the future, but it’s fucked now. We’re too far in to fix anything at all.

“come here,” he says, signing with his hands to put my legs on his lap. I hesitate a little but decide to do so anyway. I put my calves on his thighs, careful to not put them too high. Shifting in my seat to sit more comfortably, leaning my back against the sofa's armrest.

He moves his hands on them carefully, massaging my calves whilst he focuses on the show.

With his hands now on me, it makes me realize how much I had walked. Now getting aware of the slight pain that’s coming from my thighs and feet.

“Feels nice” I assure him, getting a satisfied hum back from him.

I try to focus on the show, try to keep my mind away from him. But being here with his hands on me, it’s difficult to pay attention. It doesn’t help when he scoots closer to me and massages my legs, above my knee.

He’s making it even harder for me to focus. Should I talk about something? The show isn’t helping me stay distracted. It’s the episode where they go to London, where Chandler and Monica hook up. Suits the theme.

Is it bad that I want that redo? Just for tonight, just to feel good for a moment. I feel myself clench on nothing as I think about him, against his door, gripping my hair.

I lean my head back against the armrest, sighing at myself. He’s just massaging, nothing sexual about it. Still, it turns me on as he massages my inner thighs, just inches away from my dress's skirt.

I buck my hips up a little, scooting my ass closer to his thighs. It’s nothing noticeable I think, he takes it as a sign to massage my upper thighs.

Should I do it again? Try to get him to go even higher? A soft whimper escapes my lips as he squeezes my upper thigh. I try to cover it up with a cough, gosh that’s embarrassing.

He trails his finger across my safety shorts, my head still hanging over the armrest. I shoot my head up to look at him, I see a smirk on his face and, a slightly raised eyebrow. He’s teasing me, he’s doing this on purpose.

Feeling bold, I swing one of my legs over his. Sitting on his lap. “Still up for a friendly redo?” He says.

I look him in the eyes, am I really going to do this? I didn’t exactly regret last time, just felt like it ruined everything. “Promise it won’t be awkward?” I ask him. “You’ll always be my best friend, but at the moment my mind can only think about this tight little pussy” he says, as he looks down at where I’m sitting on his lap.

“Then do something about it,” I tell him. What can it hurt if we both see each other as best friends right?

He slowly takes off his hoodie that I’d been wearing. Exposing my shoulders, and fully showing the dress I’m wearing. “I like the dress,” he says.

“I like your outfit too” he’s wearing these blue baggy jeans, combined with an oversized long sleeve in black, white, and orange. With his messy hair, I’m not afraid to say he looks really good.

He flips me around on his couch, receiving a squeal from me. He connects his lips with mine, doesn’t take him long to use his tongue intertwining it with mine.

My knees are bent, leaning against his hips. Taking our greatest time making out. I wrap my arms around his neck, and my legs around his waist.  

He trails along my jaw, placing a hickey on my neck. Circling around the sensitive spot right beneath my ear. This is definitely going to get me in trouble tomorrow.

He eventually decides to pick me up, leading me to his bedroom once again. Not breaking the kiss even once, he lays me down on my back.

He hovers over me, chain dangling from his neck. He stands back up taking off his shirt. “As much as I love you as a friend Yun, ever since last time I can’t really think about anything else” It makes me chuckle.

I mean, I’ve not been active in a long while, and well... I’m comfortable with him, I don’t need to be ashamed bout anything with him.

He grazes his finger across the hickey that has been placed on my neck. Inspects it, proud of his work. “You look so fucking hot right now”

I sit back up, placing my hands behind me stretched out. I pout at him, eyes big. He pokes his tongue in his cheek, god that’s hot. He bends down and trails the pads of his fingers over my exposed thigh. Kisses me again, and bites my lower lip a little. He reaches the hem of my skirt, takes it between his fingers, and pulls it up on both sides. Exposing my shorts. I hold my arms up, helping him to fully take off my dress. He takes my shorts off as well leaving me in my panties.

He's still in his jeans, as much as I love the sight of his abs alone. I feel like it's a bit unfair to be the only one in their underwear, so I pull him by his waistband to unbuckle his belt. He takes them off fully, leaving him in his boxers just like me.

I don't think I've ever seen someone this good up close, always been a sucker for big muscles. I move back against the the bed, head on his pillow. he follows kissing my collarbone, down to my stomach. Hooks his middle fingers underneath the side of my panties to slide them down, his following next. "You want me to stretch you out first?" he asks. To be completely honest, it might be a good idea but I'm far too impatient for that. "I can take it," I say, all he does is smirk in response.

He moves over to his nightstand, takes a condom out of his drawer, and puts it on. Never in my life would I have thought that, that's I sight I'd like. I'm convinced that he looks good doing anything, at all. The man could roll around in mud and still look hot doing it.

He places his hands next to my head and looks at me to see if I'm ready. "Just, take it slow okay?". "Don't worry bun, I would never hurt you" I think I might actually die right now.

He takes his cock in his hand, pumps himself twice before lining himself up with me. "Yeah?" He looks at me, it's my last moment to back out before it's too late. Part of me knows it's already too late, was already too late when I kissed him last week. But I want it now, for once I'm choosing myself. choosing to feel good, just in the moment. so I nod, reassuring him.

He puts it in, there's really no turning back now. "Fuck" he curses, dropping his head in the crook of my neck. "you're so tight," he says. He's taking it painfully slow, stretching me out. It burns a little, but it doesn't hurt. As if he fits perfectly, I'm able to fully take him. Taking it out slowly, leaving just the tip before he thrusts back in. I moan in response, hands around his neck. Doesn't take me long to get warmed up to him completely.

"Faster.." I whimper, wanting to feel more. He obliges, speeding up his pace by a little. "Please" I moan. "You want it even harder huh? Our little bunny like it rough?" I clench down on him, making him curse against my shoulder. He stops for a second, moving both of us back to the end of the bed. He's now off the bed, me lying in front of him. He grabs me by my hips and pulls me closer to the edge, adjusting our position.

His grip on my hips is firm, it sends a shiver down my spine. I look up at him, my eyes begging for more, my body craving every inch of him. He pushes back into me, this time with a steady, powerful rhythm that makes my breath hitch. "Oh god," I gasp, my nails digging into the sheets. It feels so good I forget about every possible consequence this could have. His thrusts are deeper, and more demanding, hitting spots inside me that I never knew could feel so good. I can feel the intensity of his desire, the way he loses himself in the moment just as much as I do.

"Good girl" he groans, his voice rough with lust. "Taking me so well, bunny."

The words send a surge of heat through my body, and I can feel myself getting closer to the edge. Every movement, every touch, is driving me wild. I arch my back, pushing my hips up to meet his thrusts, desperate for more. "Fuck, right there" I cry out, my voice shaky. "Don't stop, please don't stop."

His pace quickens, each thrust harder than the last. I can feel the pressure building, my orgasm is close. He puts his hand between us, circling around my clit. "Come for me, baby." That's all it takes for me. I come around him, my body trembling. It's better than I've ever had, It'll take me a little to recover from this. It doesn't take him long after that, his own release crashing over him as he moans my name, his grip on my hips tightening.

We stay like that for a moment, catching our breath, our bodies still connected. Slowly, he pulls out and collapses beside me, pulling me into his arms. I nestle against his chest, feeling his heartbeat slow down as we come down from the high together. "You okay?" he asks softly, brushing a strand of hair away from my face. "Yeah," I reply, my voice barely above a whisper. He smiles, pressing a gentle kiss on my forehead. "Good." I smile back.

"You should probably get cleaned up though" Although I'm not cold anymore, I could kill for a nice, hot shower right now. "Yeah probably, I won't take long," I say, getting up from his bed. "could you charge my phone for me whilst I'm gone?" I ask, receiving a agreeing nod from him. Thighs sticky, I collect my clothes from the floor and make my way to the bathroom.

I look at myself in the mirror, now seeing the damage he has done. a hickey on my neck, and one on my collarbone. My mascara is completely smudged, good thing I've got a little bit of skincare here. I remove my makeup and step under the warm shower, I could just stay like this forever. Though, in reality. That would just be really bad for the environment, so I try to keep it short. also to not leave Jungkook on his own for too long.

As I'm putting my underwear back on, there is a knock on the door. "Uhm yun?.." sounds from the other side of the door, he sounds worried. "Yeah? I'm almost dressed" I say, stepping into my dress now. "You've got like.." he pauses for a second. "23 missed calls," he says.

23 missed calls? who the fuck would even call me this late in the evening, this many times? "From who?" I ask him. I unlock the door and step out looking at my phone that he's holding.

Yoongi: where the fuck are you?! Yoongi: Yun ISTG if you're at that Tae's house I'm gonna kill you Yoongi: WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU Yoongi: TEXT ME THE FUCK BACK YUN

*23 Missed calls*

I groan loudly, letting my head fall back. "Give me a minute," I tell Jungkook as I take the phone from him and decide to call Yoongi back. the phone doesn't even go over 3 times to get picked up already. "Send me your fucking location right now yun!" he shouts through the phone, very loudly. "Yoongi, what the fuck! I'm at Jungkook's"

"I don't believe a single fucking word you tell me okay?" he says. "Where the FUCK does he live" he adds. "I told you I'm at Jungkook's house, I'm telling the truth" I sound desperate trying to get him to believe me. I don't even know what to do at this point. never has he caught me with a guy, and I haven't even done anything with him. I knew he was protective, OVERprotective even. but there's a thing as going too far, but I know I can't stop him.

"FINE! I'm going to Jungkook's right now!" he yells back at me. "see you in 2 minutes" 2 minutes? has he been looking for me? Jungkook doesn't live two minutes away even if you had a car! before I can answer him he hangs up on me. Now coming to the realization that I've got hickeys on me. the moment Yoongi sees that, hell kill both me and Jungkook.

"Koo, I need to borrow a shirt or a sweater or something. Yoongi will be here in two minutes" I say as I run to his room, not even really paying attention to him. he hasn't even gotten fully dressed yet, still walking around shirtless. I run to his dresser scavaging around it, grabbing a random shirt, and throwing it at him. I grab a random hoodie of his and put it on. moving my hair to the front, and adjusting the hood so my hickeys won't be present as much.

It's easily concealed for now. My hair is long and thick, heavy even. contemplated cutting it to my shoulders, it would be an easy 35 centimeters off. "What do you mean here?" he asks, as I walk back to his living room sitting back on the couch. Pressing play, on the previously paused Friends episode.

Jungkook sits on the couch right next to me, though not for long. It doesn't even take Yoongi 1 minute to get up to Jungkook's apartment door. Banging on the door so hard, it scares the living shit out of me. Jungkooks is fast to open the door, walking over to his front hallway, that leads from the kitchen. Pretending I've been sitting here the whole time, on my phone that's likely seconds away from dying.

Yoongi barges in, not even bothering to glance at Jungkook, let alone greet him. "Where's she," he says sternly. I get up from my seat and walk to where Yoongi is coming from. "Yoongi I told you! I'm with Jungkook" he doesn't even listen and grips me so hard by my arm I'm afraid it'll bruise. He drags me out of his apartment, not even caring if I've got any other belongings left.

Thinking it'd take too long to wait for an elevator, in the rage he's in. he walks down the stairs, 5 floors, holding onto my arm until we're outside of the apartment complex.

"YOONGI! STOP!" He stops in his tracks, finally listening to me. It’s taking me all of my power to yell and pull myself away from him, to finally turn around and listen.

His expression is something I’m unable to place. he’s angry with me, that’s obvious. But there’s something else. He reminds me of someone. His behavior feels familiar, even though it’s fairly new.

“What” he sneers at me. I don’t even know what I exactly want to know, I’m not entirely sure what I’m mad at. I, I’m clueless.

“You’re completely prohibited from boys,” he tells me. Has he gone insane?! I’m my own person, I’m an adult, legally. And I can make my own decisions. Even worse.. that would mean I can’t even hang with Jungkook anymore, and Taehyung wouldn’t even see a ray of sunlight if I looked at him again.

“Yoongi..” I start, unsure of what I even wanna say next. I want to yell, I want to talk, I want to tell him he’s insane. “Why?” I add, somewhat calmly even, that he doesn’t deserve a calm response “WHY?” I yell at him.

“WHY? Do you think you can make every single little decision for me?! I’m your sister! Not your possession! Jungkook has been my friend, sorry, BEST FRIEND for 8 years! And now you’re banning me from seeing him ever again?!”

He steps closer to me, so close I swear I can feel his breath on my face. “Boys are bad news, you wanna be treated like dad treated you?” He asks me.

It pierces right through my heart, and that hurt. Using Dad in this instance, he knows I’ll agree. I’m fed up, fed up with his bullshit. “Come on you know Jungkook isn't like that!” Voice now calm.

“Jungkook is fine but for all I know, you were with Taehyung tonight.” His trust is as bad as I am at running,o and ii can tell you.. that's absolutely terrible.

I'm speechless. The mentions of dad, him being so overly protective. it feels like I'm stuck here, stuck in a place where nobody even pays attention to you. I'm a person who tends to cry when they're angry, and I really don't feel like showing those emotions tonight. I don't want to feel weak, and vulnerable in front of him.

That's why I decided to walk, not away from him. Not for tonight at least.. but to the bus stop, that's just right behind him. I sit down on the bench and look to my left to see that Yoongi is walking over to me. He seems calmer as if the rage has suddenly left him. As if my me listening to his commands, just expecto patronum'd them away.

fortunately, the bus drive back home doesn't take as long, as my walk tonight. However, I did make a huge detour. Yoongi doesn't say a word the entire time, and neither do I. Wish I could disappear into my seat.

It's like a reality check coming to me whenever I take the bus back home, from Jungkook's. It's midnight, seeing the big city lights and apartment buildings from his area, slowly transition into small, one story houses. It's definitely less luxurious. I don't want to go inside, basically have to drag myself upstairs. Walking behind Yoongi who's acting way too nonchalantly for the rage he was in today.

He almost immediately disappears into his room, but he stops when I call him out. The first thing I see as I walk back into the house is a smashed beer bottle on the ground. Mom who is usually on the couch, is nowhere to be seen.

"What happened?" I ask. He doesn't even need to know what I'm looking at, to know what I'm talking about. "we fought, she'll come back" is all he tells me, as he opens the door to his bedroom.

I want to yell in his face, punch him. but I don't. I want to ask questions and get my answers. but I don't. I nod, take his word for it, and let him be. disappearing into my room. That moment the door to my bedroom closes behind me is when it all comes crashing back to me.

What did I do today? I promised Yoongi I'd ghost Taehyung. not that I'm gonna, I'm not just gonna give up on my year long crush just because he tells me to. I hate it here, I hate constantly walking on fucking eggshells for him. hate the fact that he controls me just like that. But I have to, I have to because he protects me from the dangers that my da can possibly bring. We don't have the money to move out to a new place or find a new school. Mom doesn't have the courage to leave him, that's why she lets him leave whenever he wants to. She knows he cheats on her. She knows they're not actual business trips he attends. But he's our main income, she has to stay with him anyway.

God I even had sex with Jungkook. I kissed him, I let him touch me like that. What did I get myself into, what the fuck went on in my mind? Are you crazy?? why why why?

I slide down against the door, sitting on the ground with my legs tucked into my chest. hand to my mouth to muffle the sounds of my cries. tears streaming down my face. I'm tired, tired of living like this, tired of tonight, tired in all possible ways there could be.

I don't even notice I fall asleep like that until I hear the front door slam shut loudly, and I open my eyes slowly when I see the sunlight shining into my room. It could be Mom coming home, or Yoongi leaving. I don't have the energy to check who it is. I get up to my feet and walk to my window to shut the curtains, and lie down in bed. rid myself of the dress and fall asleep again in Jungkook's hoodie. It comforts me in a way, smelling his detergent and a hint of his cologne. It makes me feel as if I'm at his apartment, where I'm entirely safe from all the dangers that are here. Well except for Yoongi then, but he'd never physically hurt me, he isn't like that. I'm still his little sister, he cares for me a lot. Or he wouldn't even care that I'd been talking to Taehyung.

It's a few hours into the afternoon when I get woken up by the aggravating sound of my phone ringing, I don't even know where my phone is. I get up out of bed with a groan, my cheeks hurt. the sound comes from my door, and that's when I spot my phone still lying on the ground.

I flip the phone to see who's calling me, crouching on the ground. It's Jungkook. what does he want? normally we don't really talk that quickly after a hang out.

"Yeah?" I say as I answer the phone.

"You wanna meet up? You left your zip up here"

I hadn't even noticed I wasn't wearing my zip up anymore. well... Jungkooks zip up, technically not mine.

"It isn't mine Jungkook. but I guess I should return you your hoodie."

"I don't wear it anyways, it looks good on you so. I can pick you up if you want to" he offers

Even though we've been friends for nearly a decade, he's never been there. always let him park a few blocks away just so he wouldn't see the state my home was in. though it could be worse I guess... it's clean at least. I quickly stand up and open the door to see if Mom has come back yet, which she hasn't. I don't want to go on the bus again, I'm tired. though I still hesitate a little.

"yeah sure.. ill uhm, I'll send you the address.. call me once you're outside." he doesn't have to come in you know. it wouldn't hurt him to see the building I live in. He agrees with me, though he's a little taken aback once he notices he hasn't ever seen the actual building I live in. He always just figured I had lived in a building you couldn't reach with a car, somewhere behind other buildings or something. but that's not the case at all, indeed it's the opposite. There's a big road, that leads to a parking lot, that stands right next to my building. It's quite easily accessible.

we agree to him picking me up, and he hangs up on me. I need to get changed. fuck, I need to get rid of my hickeys. I didn't even think about that. I sit in front of my vanity and inspect the two purple devils on my neck. They're not terrible. I guess I can get rid of them.

I had recently bought a color correcting palette because Jia had recommended it to me. told me it was the best makeup purchase that I'd ever make, and she was right. And right now, it is about to save my life. I do some natural makeup, not having the motivation to put effort into it today. brush through my hair so that it sits nicely, and now it's time for an outfit.

It's difficult to settle for one, as I'm always in debate. I wanna look good, but I don't want to be too cold, nor do I want to put baggy on baggy. sometimes baggy on baggy looks fire, but it's not for me. I decided to settle for a nice vintage crop top and some baggy jeans, and my usual sneakers that I always wear.

That's right when Jungkook calls. I ignore the call, pick up his hoodie, and make my way outside. it's silent in the apartment. both Yoongi and Mom are not home. At least that's what I expect, since I didn't hear Yoongi come home yet.

Jungkooks car is parked out front, this saves me time from getting to a bus stop. It's weird in a way, to see him so close to the place I live. I've never brought anyone back here. I'm always ashamed in a way, even though I know my friends would never judge. They know my family doesn't always have it too well, Jungkook knows about my father and knows that he's our main income. He knows about Yoongi's stupid ways of 'handling' things, I don't know why I was too scared to let him pick me up, he won't even see the inside.

"Hi," I say as I open the door to Jungkooks passenger seat. "wow, you okay?" is the first thing he says. no hello no 'how are you today my awesome gorgeous best friend' no, no. He actually said 'Wow, you okay?'.

"Hello to you too" I rest my head back against the seat and sigh. "what happened?" ugh. I wanna disappear into my seat, vaporize into the air. "you know, life. Yoongi being a pain in the ass" I respond as I look at him.

"No offense bun, you look terrible" I just roll my eyes at him, that's a nice compliment. "Aww thank you" I sarcastically pout at him. god, he can be annoying.

"nope. nu uh" he starts the car and drives out of the parking spot in reverse. "we're not gonna be on our periods all day. we're gonna get your favorite ice cream and we're watching a movie" I don't even have time to escape now. I can't jump out of a running car. on the other hand, I guess its kinda nice that he tries to take my mind off of things.

He drives to his local ice cream place, I guess a normal supermarket would do. but there's this ice cream place, they serve the best ever caramel cookies and cream ice cream, yes. Cookies and cream, with caramel. when we have one of these days, we get a big 1 liter to go box. sometimes even get take out, and watch the Titanic. it's basic I know, but it's good. sometimes we go out of our comfort zone and settle for, Your Name, sometimes even Weathering With You. It's been a while since we've had a gloomy day like this. So Titanic it'll be.

He parks the car and gets out. I'm too lazy to get out. He moves to my side of the car and basically drags me out of it by my arm. "wait wait wait. gimme your hoodie" It must not be a fun sight, seeing me so 'lifeless' like this, good thing Jungkook has gotten used to it over the past years. He opens the back door and grabs the zip up hoodie that I basically claimed by now.

he pushes me by my shoulder, inside the ice cream shop. I sit down on the sofa that faces the ice cream display case. basically sitting down like a little child who didn't get what she wanted, swinging my legs as Jungkook waits for the employees to fill the box with ice cream.

usually, they fill it with normal scoops until it's completely filled, but because we've come here more often to get the 1 liter box than normal servings. They use a big spatula which gets you more ice cream since it's more stuffed than with a normal scooper.

"cmon back to the car" I groan and follow him back to the vehicle. crazy how you can feel so, so lifeless sometimes. But he drives us to his apartment anyway. "C'mon, you're gonna be a big girl and get up. or do I have to carry you all the way" he's being ridiculous. though, being carried does sound nice. "actually.." but before I can finish my sentence he already cuts me off and walks away.

It takes like all my strength to walk up to the elevator. Mingyu's home for once. but he stays in his room. I settle down on his couch, as he throws a blanket at me. grabs some random bag of crisps and popcorn, and puts them on the coffee table. before he settles down next to me turning on The Titanic. at this point, I basically know actual lines and timing on the script and know the movie inside out.

"You know, sometimes I wish I could dress the way she dresses," I say putting a big spoon of ice cream in my mouth. "who? rose?" mouth still full I look at him and nod franticly humming in agreeance. "even with that ugly ass hat" he does have a way of, expressing his opinions? I click my tongue and drop my jaw "How dare you! I guess it does look a little silly" I'm not a big hat girly no. "but the one blue and pink dress she wears at the end? it's gorgeous" If I could buy it I would, it's so freaking pretty. it's simple, but the colors are just right.

"You mean the one they fuck in?" and just like that he's completely ruined it. "Oh screw you!" I grab one of the pillows and throw it at him. "You already have" Okay he seriously needs to shut up. I just ignore him and give him no attention he won't make stupid remarks, hopefully...

prev | next

[scarletttries]

Kendall Roy x Reader Engagement/Wedding Headcanons:

Pairing: Kendall Roy (Succession) x Gender-neutral!Reader

Rating: Fluff with one slightly NSFW thought at the end clearly labelled.

Author’s Note: After my own lovely bachelorette party last weekend I got a request for wedding/engagement headcanons for Kendall Roy and couldn't resist! Thank you to everyone who wished me a lovely weekend for my Hen Do and for sending in so many amazing succession requests!! 😊

- From the minute he knew you were the one for him, Kendall would be mentally planning your wedding. It wouldn't matter that it would take him another year to actually propose, he'll live for meticulously planning every detail to make it the most memorable proposal and wedding in history, constantly be thinking of things he wanted for the two of you, scribbling down ideas in his notes app that he can't wait to share with you one day.

- The proposal would be so incredibly Kendall: there would be fireworks, and a stage, and he'd have prepared a musical number, and everything for the whole week would have been set up to lead you unawares to the moment he finally gets down on one knee and asks you to marry him. To be the other half he's always been missing. The loving family he never thought he could deserve. And when you, thank god, say yes; a hundred doves fly out behind you as glitter rains dow,n and it truly feels like something out of a movie or a fairytale, the staged photos front page of every paper in town that night.

- For the entire time you're engaged it's like Kendall's already in the honeymoon phase, his obsession with you is completely renewed. He's so enamoured he finds himself calling you into his office just so he can close the blinds and wrap his arms tightly around you, barely able to contain his grin as he leans down to kiss 'his fiance', a phrase he cannot stop uttering. He'll introduce you to people you've already met a dozen times just so he can say 'my fiance' about you again and again, cheeks aching from the smile that hasn't left his cheeks since you said yes.

- Now that you're engaged he'll also get even more ridiculous with gift giving; when Kendall first starts dating anyone he can be a little insecure that they're just with him for the money, so he holds back on being too generous until he knows their true feelings. But now, expect a bouquet of your favourite flowers every hour, on the hour, each with funny little notes Kendall writes imagining what your life will look like together. Not to mention he insists you both go shopping as 'you both need an entirely new wardrobe now that you're engaged.'

- There won't have been a lot of times you've been able to meet Sophie and Iverson while dating Kendall, so he'll be nervous about re-introducing you to them now that it's as his fiance. But he doesn't need to worry, Sophie is so smart and friendly she'll immediately start running through wedding planning ideas and suggesting you pick them up from school once a week so you can get to know the two of them better - she's seen how much better her father is doing since he found you and genuinely wants to keep you around as much as possible. Naturally Iverson is a lot more reserved, but you'll give him the space he needs and keep the pressure off and over time he'll smile when you walk in a room and Ken will know you've been accepted as part of their dysfunctional family unit.

- The other Roys might not be as welcoming to you when the announcement comes out, assuming you're just some beautiful airhead, or worse, coming after the family's power and fortune, despite how happy Kendall seems to be around you. The exception to this is of course Connor, who will pull you aside after Logan spends dinner shouting about how important prenups are, and tell you he's so excited to have another sibling and he's so happy Ken found you. *For more Kendall prenup drama I have a whole smut fic on it here.*

- Kendall would be torn between wanting a long engagement, loving the affectionate excitement the two of you share every time he catches the glint of your ring out the corner of his eye, and being so excited to plan the wedding that he gets it all set up for just a few months later. No expense would be spared for your day, whether you want to have an island to yourself, an exquisite country house or just to hire out the gallery of your dreams. As long as you're okay with it being BIG, then Kendall will make any dream you have come true.

- Kendall's first wedding was a much more classy, muted affair where he felt like he had to stifle himself to fit the idea of what a wedding should look like. He's learnt a lot about himself since then, and you've always been there to encourage him to be honest with you and hold on tight to the parts of his life that bring him joy, so be prepared for the whole day to be elaborate and spectacular.

- That doesn't mean it's not also magical, and romantic, and intimate. You and Kendall find ways to make every second meaningful to the two of you, stealing away for moments at a time to just look into each other's eyes, overwhelmed with the joy that you are now joined forever, secure together for all the ups and downs your lives will bring (unaware that one of three photographers Kendall hired is taking candid shots that Kendall will have printed as six foot high portraits to hang on the walls of his penthouse, and another dozen images to line his work desk.)

- While you and Kendall aren't too worried about a lot of the classic wedding traditions, you will spend the night before the wedding apart, opting for a cosy night in a luxury hotel with your friends to get prepped. You'll have to have your friends taking shifts by the door at all times though, as Kendall sends an influx of deliveries to show he's thinking of you. And then at 2am he'll turn up at your hotel suite begging your friends to let him see you one more time, "for one last night of sin" and they'll have to remind him it's bad luck and force the door shut in his moping face.

- But it's completely worth it as he sees you for the first time on your wedding day, somehow more beautiful than he could have pictured, dressed to perfection, wearing the same smile as you walk towards him that you did that first day he kissed you and knew then and there that this day would be coming soon. He has to choke back tears as he stutters through his vows, overwhelmed by finally having a true family member in his corner who can love him and have his back through anything.

- Without getting too NSFW, we can all agree Kendall on his wedding night would come at you like a man starved. Greedy hands squeezing and clawing at your thighs hard enough to leave marks as his teeth clash against yours with the sheer fervour that he comes in to kiss you with. A strangled mix of growls and moans, broken up by ecstatic laughs fill the room as he embraces you for the first time as his spouse, exploring and tasting every inch of you like you are an entirely new world only he gets to claim. A world where now he feels safe and accepted and loved. A world he's never going to leave.

[gentle-giant-swag]

It turns out some gentle giants are not being in fact, gentle giants!

Oh god it’s shocking to hear, I know. But some have hurt a fly, even if said fly was a cult leader who killed their dog and rode their bike late at night so their mom couldn’t sleep!

So we can’t allow those character to be considered gentle giants /s

That’s why I’m launching

LEAST GENTLE GIANT

This is a special edition of gentle giant swag, where 32 characters who are being kept anonymous, where the only thing that is revealed to the public are their crimes, are forced to compete to see who’s the least gentle of them all!

Rules

Ocs are allowed!

No hearts boxcards, he’s been blacklisted since june

Silly crimes are included, don’t worry if their biggest crime is not saying thank you after dinner.

If you need help picking out one, I recommend you check out this google sheet (contains the A bracket, the B bracket, C bracket, and D bracket , from the main round!) they can be completely new however! So don’t worry!

No Harry Potter

Be nice to each other!

NO SPAMMING! Or else your (un)precious blorbor is banned!

Also, they must be gentle giants or gentle giant adjacent! Of course

Link if you wanna submit

Form closes September 1st

Other brackets im tagging @badass-queer-couples-battle @the-robot-bracket @dysfunctional-family-fight @whosthatcharacter-bracket @whowouldwininafite @the-blue-battle @leastdatablebracket @onepiece-polls @splatoonpolls @sigma-showdown