#also yeah to answer your last question

[nonomives]

Serious question about Clown’s updated NSFW policy- Would you be ok with people doing NSFW work of your AU? Or not? Because just cuz Clown’s ok with it doesn’t mean that you have to comfortable with it. I personally would like to draw some NSFW, but wouldn’t if you weren’t comfortable with it.

Also is Barnaby single? please? Just one chance?

Frankly speaking, NSFW art is a grey area for me. Im not weirded out by it in general but I also don't want it to affect how peeps would perceive my AUs. I still want to keep this blog as PG as I possibly can so everyone can enjoy my stuff on here. Yet I also don't control whatever peeps do with them.

All I ask is that you handle this kind of content carefully and make sure it isn't accessible to minors by all means. Make sure it's tagged and censored properly. The usual stuff

That's pretty much it really. Hopefully, my message rings clear and you understand where I'm coming from with this

[changewingwentz]

Originally caption “iii wears more Victorian ahhhh looking fits for the teeth of God tour maybe haha” but these look too Victorian lmaaoooo

Inspired from a character also placed in the same time period wearing the thigh high boots and iii ……in those boots guys hear me out…..

[commsroom]

Hello. It occurred to me recently that Hera is the only character of the main cast who is not named for an engineer/physicist/mathematician. Do u think this has any significance regarding her role on the team and her character, or not really?

(Also, the wiki says she's probably named for the Greek goddess Hera which has interesting connotations if it's true. There was also a NASA probe called Hera at some point I'm pretty sure, but I don't know which is the more likely namesake. I just enjoy the names in W359 because I am a physics student and it's fun to hear character names in all my classes.)

hi! i think the answer is kind of... yes and no? like, gabriel urbina has said his process of naming characters is first to choose a category to pick surnames from, to narrow down the options (so, in this case, famous scientists), and then to find given names that he thinks sound good with those surnames. so i don't think symbolism is the purpose, and i don't think it needs to be. but hera, obviously... doesn't have a last name. and so the way she was named (both in and out of universe) is different, and i think that does represent something.

first: hera is the mother program of the hephaestus. the hera of greek mythology is the mother of hephaestus and cast him out of the sky. the allusions are obviously intentional. (as are other mythology names in the show, but that's another topic.) second: a lot of real world things relating to space are named for mythology, and clearly cutter agrees that's how it should be done. but also: goddard's AIs share the same naming scheme with their spacecrafts. hera, rhea, eris, enlil, perseus, hyperion vs. hephaestus, hermes, tiamat, urania, valkyrie, sol. in one sense, this marks them as company property, people who are treated as equivalent to technology.

but, third: from a writing perspective, gabriel urbina has also said he only started getting a sense of who hera was when he started writing for michaela swee in the second episode; there's such a difference in how she's written just between those first two scripts. you can even see in the first recording script that her name was stylized HERA, as if it stood for something, like a much more standard AI character might have been named. which goes so far against what her name actually ended up representing that it retroactively becomes an in-universe microaggression.

and so, fourth: despite all of that, the real thing that makes hera's name stand apart is that it's a chosen name. it's offered to her, but not the way a name is given - it's a bribe, with the understanding it can be taken away from her. rachel says she can see what else is available if hera "has a problem with the etymology or any of the allusions," which is kind of interesting. but hera chooses to be hera. i don't think it's a stretch to say she has a deadname and a chosen name: that she has to introduce herself every time in a way that amounts to "i prefer to be called hera" and that her name is treated as optional and conditional, a reward for good behavior. if hera wanted to take a middle or last name, she would be choosing those, too.

i think ultimately names in wolf 359 are less about categorization and/or symbolism and more about identity. names are symbols that represent and contain the people who claim them. how people are referred to, when, and by whom - as well as how people refer to themselves by name as an act of self-determination, a reclamation of identity, or in defiance - is all central to the themes of the show. and, from that perspective, i think how hera is named (and what her name means to her, how she has had to construct and fight for parts of her identity that others are given as a default assumption) is significant, but i don't think it really sets her apart from the others when their names are treated in similar ways thematically.

[thelovers-thedreamers-and-me]

the downside to being a sitcom neighbour sort of person is that when rough things happen and emotionally fuck u up a lil bit, it also sounds completely made up

[afniel]

Realizing that I went and wrote a bunch of intentionally aro relationships and my partner was like, "Idk, it seemed like normal relationships to me," and I was like, "I mean yeah it's not that different from ours, I guess, I was kind of going for 45° off from 'normal' romance," and they're like, "Okay, but ours is also pretty much like that," and I'm like, "Yeah, true," and now I'm like, damn hold up, are we both some kinda arospec and THIS is how we figure it out? Because I wrote a long-ass fic about intentionally queer-coded (among other things) robots? Life is weird, man.

Like I've been prone to extreme long-term crushes on a very few (mostly unattainable) people over the years, but I wouldn't have known what to do with them even if they worked out, and cough my ex was not even one of them. I just kind of assumed I was failing to feel a thing I was totally supposed to feel, there, and quite a lot of that relationship emotionally was me going, "Okay, I care like This, but I think I'm supposed to care like That? I'm pretty sure he cares That way. I'm not sure I do, but I mean, there's really only one way*, so maybe I'm just misreading this and actually I do care like That, I'm just bad at it."

*This was me being very incorrect, it turns out. There's all kinds of ways to love someone. It's a very inadequate and nonspecific word.

When I confessed my feelings (which I'd been sitting on for a year) to my partner, their reaction wasn't to be particularly romantic about it. In fact they told me they'd help me move to California if I wanted to. And after I got over my initial confusion of being kissed on the forehead (which is also not super romantic as a gesture and I couldn't decide how to even read that so I kinda skipped over even trying for a while), I was thinking, Awesome, that is a yes. They have promised to assist me with difficult stuff, and said nothing at all about emotions, because that's not a big deal anyway. The important thing is that I can rely on them and vice versa. Cool. We are basically together forever now. Which ended up being true. I just never moved out and now it's like 13 years later, go figure. But that's not what I think actually passes for reciprocating feelings for most people? Worked great for me though.

Anyway I feel like I have accidentally learned something about myself, lol. I guess romance is okay I guess, like it's not repulsive, but seriously, it's WAY more satisfying to me to guess someone else's Quiplash answer because you know they know you would think it's fucking funny, and you do, and because you think it's funny and you're well aware they know your type of humor and you know theirs and that you wouldn't expect them to use "cum" as an answer because that's not usually how they roll, so of course that is the only answer they can possibly give, which is instantly evident to both of you with no conversation whatsoever on the topic. When you got just one brain cell and it's quantum entangled with their just one brain cell so you have a lot of null discussions where nobody has to say anything but it's fully understood anyway, that's The Dream, if you ask me. And like I don't really think that's romantic by the usual definition. You can have that with friends and family, too. But that is what it turns out I prioritize in relationships, which I'm starting to feel like isn't what the majority of people are here for?

TFW it's hard to tell because I've been assuming I'm totally alloromantic so everything I experience must be typical totally alloromantic stuff too, but I'm starting to think it isn't maybe? But how do I even tell, this is like being colorblind, lmao.

[ninja-knox-ur-sox-off]

@ that one anon I accidently deleted yo ask thanks to my incredible skills (clicked the wrong button) no you did not imagine me having plans a while back i absolutely did unfortunately my entire life and family situation just went to heck right around that time so every plan id ever had was sniped along with my mental health HDBJFNGNG

[bunnihearted]

🌌🗯️

[capybaraonabicycle]

Kiss 38 for Mels and Fugitive💔

Thank you so much for making me write for my AU the first time in half a year, love!

I had a blast coming up with a scene I hadn't planned on, because I had actually already written the grand final kiss with time running out in an earlier part of the AU. So, for context, this is the night before that part, when the Doctor already knows what will happen the next day but Mels remains oblivious (in order to improve the chances of their escape working). If you have more questions, just ask, I'll be very glad to talk about the whole situation more :)

But yeah, in a nutshell: The Doctor and Lee are planning to fake all of their deaths and flee Division with Mels and Karvanista (leaving Gat behind). The Doctor will turn herself human and hide on Earth with Lee. Mels and Karvanista are supposed to be sent to Leadworth where she will be instructed to wait on the bowtie!Doctor to be ready to kill him, should he ever come into existence. (Which is what they are trying to prevent by running away - the Doctor believes the Bowtie (who she knows about from Mels' tales) to be herself under Tecteun's influence.)

I hope you like it!

A kiss because time is running out

Rating: Teen

Genre: Angst that I somehow managed to weave some fluff into

Warnings: Necromancy, mentions of a siege, carelessness in regard to alcohol abuse, some swearing

Words: ~3500

The Doctor had seen many a beautiful sight in her life. Meteor showers were always a vision, or fogbows that stretched across the sky in milky glory, or a swarm of these tiny insects they had had on Mondas that shimmered in whatever colour contrasted the background the most, or – the point was, she could name a thousand beautiful things off the top of her head if asked. But the most beautiful thing in all of the universe, she found, were the traces of amazement blooming on a face. The innocent joy, the pleasant surprise, the immediate love for something you didn't quite understand yet – there was nothing that beat the sight of someone being hit by unexpected wonder.

So, when Lee asked her if there was anything else he could get her, there was really only one answer she could think of.

“Where are we going?” Mels was trailing behind and inadvertedly pulling at her hand, ever incapable of simply following, be it an order or literally walking after the Doctor.

The Doctor looked back for a second to smile at her fondly: “On a date.”

“At Division headquarters?” Mels frowned, but she did press her hand in silent gratitude. “Can't we sneak out?”

“Not tonight” the Doctor said.

'Not anymore' she thought. Not that they had managed to sneak out much at all in their time together; she could count the precious few times on one hand, actually. So many missed opportunities, so much lost time that they should have stolen back from Tecteun.

"We're going to need our energy resources for tomorrow" the Doctor said. Which was true, in a way, but mainly they needed to stay under the radar more than ever.

"Yeah right" Mels scoffed. "For a siege."

The Doctor frowned at her.

"There are people starving during that seige" she reminded her. "Nevermind the casualties when a shot does get through the defences."

A tender expression crossed Mels' face for a second, then she shook her head.

"You're as sentimental as they come" she claimed. "But even you can't deny that a siege is rather boring compared to what Tecteun usually throws us in."

"Which is why we need to be on guard" the Doctor said, and Mels' eyes lit up.

"Do you believe she has an ace up her sleeve?" she asked eagerly. "That there will be an unexpected twist and it won't be a pure stealth mission after all?"

"You sound awfully excited at the prospect" the Doctor snorted.

"Course I do, honey, you know me" Mels grinned and the Doctor grinned back.

"That I do" she agreed, stopping next to a door. "In here, love."

"The kitchen?" Mels asked in surprise when they entered and a pleased and teasing smile grew on her face. "Doctor, you haven't cooked for me, have you?"

"No" the Doctor flinched.

Of course! That was what she should have done, wasn't it? What was the romantic thing to do? What she wouldn't have given for a little more time now. Just so she could make a mental note to cook for Mels another time, to live up to her, be the partner she deserved.

She made the mental note anyway and it felt like defying her fate. Maybe she would remember, eventually. Maybe they would meet again, someday. Maybe then she would be able to fulfil the unspoken promise. It was about as likely as Tecteun suddenly deciding to sent her into retirement and springing for a pension. But, as Mels would have pointed out if the Doctor had been able to tell her any of this, minuscule chances literally were their daily bread. So who knew? Maybe this would actually all end well. Now she only needed to find the hope she had lost somewhere and to start believing in that.

"Maybe for the best" Mels teased. "I doubt you can make an omelett without burning down the kitchen."

The Doctor huffed. "You're one to talk. I remember when you tried mixing Gat a drink and she said it tasted like pure absinthe."

"Who says that wasn't by design?" Mels smirked. "She was the most fun I have ever experienced with her that night."

"The drink was literally burning" the Doctor pointed out. "I don't believe that was by design."

"It's called a 'flaming drink', darling" Mels deadpanned. "It's totally a thing, my grandpa even orders those."

"Brian orders flaming drinks?" the Doctor echoed. It didn't quite fit the image she had formed of the man from the memories she had seen in Mels' mind.

Mels groaned. "Okay, fine, his mates do. The point is, I am a legit cocktail-connaisseur. And I could also cook an omelett. Probably. Possibly. If I had to."

The Doctor's mouth twitched amusedly. "Let's just stay away from the stove, maybe, what do you think?"

"Good call" Mels pressed her hand, curiously peering around her back when the Doctor approached the fridge. "What are we doing instead?"

"I'll blow your mind" the Doctor boasted, taking a glassbowl with a translucent liquid out the fridge.

Mels' eyes grew wide.

"Is that vodka?" she asked. "Are you actually getting drunk with me, honey?"

"I should not have mentioned the Gat incidence" the Doctor winced. "Now your mind is set on booze, isn't it?"

"I could go with ginger tea instead" Mels grinned, obediently taking the bowl that the Doctor handed her.

"Now there's a thought" the Doctor hummed.

If desperation clawed any harder at her hearts, she might let herself be convinced to go for ginger; hangovers were hell but she much preferred getting drunk on the root than the disgusting drinks that went for 'alcohol' around the galaxy. Not that she had planned on getting wasted on her last night with Mels, but forgetting what she was about to do the next day did sound tempting. Then again, it might increase the probability of spilling the beans and she could not, should not, had not to do that. Not this close to achieving their aim.

"So?" Mels was looking at her expectantly over the rim of the bowl, one eyebrow raised and instantly, the Doctor lost her track again, staring at that achingly familiar face.

How could she think she would be able to bid her goodbye? Mels had become a constant in her life, one of the few gleams bringing light into existence under the Division. For the last years, the Doctor had been leaning on her, more than she cared to admit. Separating from her would feel like giving up a part of herself. Except that it wouldn't, not instantly at least. Couldn't feel like losing a part of yourself when you weren't yourself anymore.

"Follow me." The Doctor pushed past Mels to hide her troubled face from clever eyes with eyebrows that threated pulling together.

She didn't look back, knowing that Mels was bound to be on her heels. Maybe she was excellent at following orders after all – the truth was of course that she always knew which orders were necessary. Or maybe it was that the orders Mels deemed necessary inadvertedly became the important ones. It didn't matter. It was all over now anyway.

The dining room of Division headquarters had a balcony protected by an airbubble. It wasn't like the Doctor had a key, but she had a Lee and that was basically the same thing.

"Sneaking out after all, are we?" Mels hummed, when they stepped outside and the Doctor shrugged and sat down on the stone floor.

"Just a bit."

"You're pulling out all the stops, I see." Mels sat down next to her, their shoulders brushing.

"Always for you" she couldn't help that her voice sounded way more serious than the banter demanded.

Mels cocked her head and the Doctor could tell she was slowly but surely growing concerned. And who could blame her, really? "Are you alright, Doctor?"

"Of course I am" she lied. "You know me, I am always alright!"

Which was precisely the wrong thing to say to Mels, of course, but the Doctor distracted her before she could argue. She tapped the bowl that Mels had set down in front of her knees. "Any idea why I gave you that?"

"Some" Mels smirked. "It's not vodka, I've smelled it."

"It's Polarfreyan oil" the Doctor explained. "Mind you, it's not actually from Polarfrey. No one knows where it comes from, but since it appeared to have come from far away, ancient Gallifreyans called it after the most distant planet they were aware of."

"If no one knows where it comes from, how come you have a whole bowl of the stuff?" Mels pointed out and the Doctor grinned.

"You can buy it at any good gift shop on Reave."

"Of course." Mels rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "Nothing as irresistable as a gift shop, is there?"

"I love a little shop!" the Doctor said defiantly. "There's no need to tease me about it."

"Aw, but it's too easy" Mels cooed, leaning over to press a kiss to her cheek. "I'm so glad you spent your money on something as valuable as a bucket of oil, honey."

It hurt terribly to be mocked by her like this, when her voice slipped into that tender undertone and her eyes twinkled merrily, that cheeky smile pulling at her lips that always seemed to be reserved for the Doctor. It hurt when she knew that it meant Mels loved her, when she knew that it was all but over, when she knew that she was lying to her by not warning her of what awaited them the next day, when she knew that she was about to hurt her and she had been planning to do it for a while. The fact that there was no other way did not make it any better.

The Doctor swallowed all of those thoughts in one big gulp and managed to smile at Mels.

"You know, everytime you mock me like this" she started, "I suspect you are trying to get a rise out of me, dear, just so I give in and kiss you to shut you up."

"Oh no, my ulterior motives have been discovered" Mels hummed contentedly.

"I have been called a genius before" the Doctor said, righting her lapels.

Mels' hand wound around her neck, tipping her face into her direction from behind.

"Go on then, you genius" she taunted. "Shut me up."

Their faces were so close now that the Doctor thought she could see the stars reflect in Mels' eyes. Or maybe that was just the light from the kitchen. She tried imprinting the image into her memory, never to lose. Oh, but you know you can't keep your memory anyway, not where you are going, Doctor.

"Shut you up?" she echoed, her voice soft and husky. "And miss out on all the remarkable things you say? Why would I do that?"

"Of for fucks –"Mels hauled her in, guiding their lips together and pressing herself against the Doctor's body. Automatically, the Doctor's hands wandered to her back, holding her tightly and she let herself get lost in the familiar feel of how their bodies fit together.

She tried to blend it all out, just be in the moment, just enjoy the kiss and it worked surprisingly well. Apparently, it was difficult thinking of disaster when Mels Zucker kissed you, slowly, lavishly, like she didn't have a care in the world, like they had all the time in the universe at their disposal.

All too soon, Mels pulled back. Of course it was for a smug remark, what else would have distracted her?

"Want something done, do it yourself" she commented and made a move to dive back in.

The Doctor wanted to let her, too, it was incredibly tempting. But she had had plans for tonight and if they kissed any longer, she knew they would end up postponed. And as things were, they couldn't very much allow themselves any postponing, now could they?

So she caught Mel's jaw in her hand, tenderly cupping her cheek. Mels pulled an adorably cross face, but it softened, when the Doctor brushed her thumb over her cheek.

"Let's have your surprise first, love, what do you say?" she offered.

A smirk curled around Mel's lips. "I thought that was that pretty bowl of mysterious oil you got me?"

"Shut up" the Doctor said fondly and Mels' eyes lit up.

"Make me? This time?"

The Doctor ignored her in hope of getting somewhere tonight. Before their time ran out.

"It's not just any oil" she explained, picking the bowl back up from in front of Mel's knees. She held it out to her again and Mels' fingers deliberately brushed against hers when accepting the glass. "They also call it 'the oil of life'."

"Because...?" Mels indulged her, not without taunt.

With great flourish, the Doctor produced a stone from her pocket. "I have got something else for you."

Mels shifted the bowl into her lap in order to take the stone from her. With a frown, she regarded the gift, but it gave way to a smile when she recognised the fish skeleton that had been caught in the mineral.

"It's a fossil!" she realised.

"Thought you might like that" the Doctor teased. "Archeologist."

"Paleontologist" Mels corrected, eyes still on the fossil. "Paleontology is the study of fossils. Archeologists care about humans exclusively, or intelligent alien lifeforms eventually, I assume. Whatever, you secretly love my passion for archeology."

"I do" the Doctor admitted softly. "It is beautiful to see you passionate."

Now Mels looked up, slightly confused. "No arguing, really?"

"You will become an excellent archeologist some day" the Doctor said earnestly, not letting herself be discouraged. "People will be lining up for your talks."

"Yeah, right" Mels snorted. "Hate to inform you, love, that I can scarcely study archeology, stuck as I am with you at our beloved Division."

That, at least, was a pleasant secret the Doctor was keeping from her. That she wouldn't be stuck for much longer, that she would get to study archeology. The hard part was that she wasn't stuck with the Doctor either, much as both of them wanted that. It was quite the contrary, really.

The Doctor forced yet a new smile onto her face. "Would you like to see what the fish looked like, before it got fossilised?"

"Sure" Mels nodded. She looked expectantly at her, like she waited for the Doctor to produce a photo.

So, this was where the good part started, then. Suddenly, the Doctor's smile felt genuine again.

"Drop the stone into the oil" she ordered and the understanding and hopeful anticipation in Mels' eyes was already gorgeous enough to take her breath away.

Gingerly, Mels lowever the fossil above the oil.

"Maybe don't touch it with your bare skin" the Doctor said hurriedly. "I'm not sure what it would do to a living being."

Mels raised an eyebrow at her, stopping mid air. Then she gently let go of the fossil, pulling her hand away from the small splash of oil that the impact produced.

The stone sunk slowly into the liquid and Mels watched with fascination, how the skeleton started glossing over, colourful scales growing over bare bones, sprouting wavy fins and a sparkling eye, until, all of a sudden, the fish started moving. Mels gasped in delight, when with a decided flick of its tail, it shoved its encasing stone away and started swimming through the oil. The feeble light reflected off its scales in hues of brilliant purple and blue as it wound itself towards the surface of the bowl in tight circles.

"What's it doing?" Mels whispered excitedly, when already, the fish brust through the surface, swimming up into the air as easily as it had traversed the oil.

Mels let out another soft gasp and watched with a bedazzled smile how the fish swam up to her face. It hovered there for a while, looking like it admired itself in the reflection of her eyes. Or maybe it admired Mels herself, just like the Doctor had been doing the whole time. She had been correct: No wonders of the universe could measure up to the sight of bliss on her face.

Mels reached out with her hand, as if to let the fish sniff it – did fish have noses? - and immediately it turned around and took off, flying away in the direction of the stars. There was a soft 'plop' when it crossed the air bubble and then they were watching how it quickly disappeared in the dark depths of the night sky.

Mels' gaze dropped to the rest of the fossil, taking in how the bones had disappeared.

"How is this possible?" she muttered. "Did we turn it alive again? And how can it swim in air? How can it breathe in the vacuum? This is bonkers!"

"They don't call it 'oil of life' for nothing, dear" the Doctor quipped smugly.

"Nothing like a bit of necromancy to brighten up the evening" Mels snorted.

"That wasn't just any fossil" the Doctor told her, leaning over and dropping her voice so Mels understood the gravity of the tale. "It came across the Karax Rift from an alternate universe a few thousand years ago, and it is supposed that the corresponding fish species must have died out wherever it came from. That fish had been extinct for thousand of years in another universe! And now it is crossing our sky."

She smiled in awe at Mels, but for some reason, Mels was looking thoughtful.

"What will happen to it now? Will it ever die?" she asked and there was a strange strain to her voice.

The Doctor frowned. "I don't actually know. I suppose it must, some time. Everybody dies eventually."

"So, it will continue travelling the universe all alone" Mels concluded. "Perhaps indefinitely. The last, the only one of its species. And it doesn't even know whether there's hope it can ever find the way home."

It sounded like she wasn't talking about the fish anymore.

"Mels -" the Doctor started. I will take you home. I can't bring your people to you, but I will bring you back to your parents. Sooner than you can imagine. So much sooner.

She couldn't tell her. Couldn't tell her that travelling the universe was over for her now. Couldn't tell her that they would have to part. Couldn't even think of what she'd have to ask of her. How she would hurt her. And she couldn't say goodbye either.

"Betcha it's seeing some beautiful stars though, on its way" Mels tried a smile, when the Doctor couldn't go on. Her eyes were looking very shiny now, tears waiting to fall when she cupped the Doctor's cheek. "And visiting new worlds, making new friends. I bet it is making the most of its freedom."

"I'm sure of it" the Doctor promised.

"And at least it got to fly away" Mels mused. "What wouldn't I give if I could just – take your hand and go. Away from here, towards everything. Just you and me and the whole universe."

The Doctor had to gulp. "Now that would be something."

And it could be so good. Their imminent escape. It could be so liberating, it could be a reason for celebration. If only they got to stay together. If only this wasn't their last evening of knowing each other. If only time wasn't running out.

"Doctor?" Mels' voice sounded very far away, but the Doctor managed to return to her, when her other hand came up to her cheek as well, cradling her face from both sides. There was concern evident in her eyes, stronger now, but she soldiered on, like she always did, reassuring the Doctor. "Honey, hey. Don't give up on me now. We will get out of here someday. I promise."

Too soon. It's too soon.

Mels was wrong. And she herself was wrong as well: She did not kiss Mels to shut her up, she kissed her to shut up that desperate voice inside her head. Maybe it would content itself if she allowed herself to be as close to her love as possible.

Maybe, when Mels lips slotted against her own, soft and alive and insatiable and when her hands wandered from the Doctor's cheeks to her neck and the fabric of her shirt to pull her ever so much closer, maybe then the voice would finally stop reminding her of the end. Maybe, if she focused strongly enough, on the warmth growing in her stomach, the silk of Mels' skin against her own, on her smell permeating the air, her taste on her lips and tongue, maybe then she could stop time, just for a second, call it back one last time while passing the exit, make it stop in its tracks for just a moment, before it was gone. At least she would try her very best.

Thank you so much for reading!

[cherrylight]

8, 12, 14, 19 for the end of year selfship ask game :] !! (@kiawren)

hiiiii tysm for the ask :] sorry on answering so late tho

ask game here :]

8. in which ways did your F/O(s)/selfshipping help you this year?

i dont have much of a memory of that unfortunately ^^;; + this years been very chaotic & mentally draining for me personally... but if i have to say i think what really helped me this year via selfshipping is falling back into old fandoms i used to enjoy & love!

srry this answer isnt like the best tho </3

12. if you have spotify wrapped, were there any songs related to your F/O(s)/selfships in your top 100? if you don't, were there any songs you listened to a lot this year because they remind you of your F/O(s)?

this is such a SILLY QUESTION TO ME HEJPL. but most of which were of ben because i was like so focused on him for a bit lol. the main song on my wrap was cybernetic entities / madame macabre which is just basically a fan song dedicated to him and i love it sm

i can talk so much about songs here because its all i ever talk about but another is artichoke / yumi <- this one just gives me dave vibes its so silly and stupid ok (it also makes me think its something hed totally do for shits and giggles)

theres more songs that are related to those two on my wrap funnily enough but wed be here all day

14. did you find out anything new and surprising about yourself through selfshipping this year?

honestly. i think learning that i just go "i hate f/o sm" is just my way on saying "i f/o sm" so idk if thats something to learn about. but if you want a genuine real answer: i dont like being very public about my affection for my f/os i much rather keep it at a downlow.

19. has your general outlook on/relationship with selfshipping changed over the year in any way?

ok this answer might actually be quite long because im just gonna go on a whim to say i have a hate/love relationship with selfshipping.

i used to be super happy to openly selfship with characters that i love so very much and was excited to talk about it. but then shit happened that made me question it so i started to hate on it a lot because it made me visibly upset and i wanted to deactivate this blog a lot.

i felt really off and unsure how to approach it for the longest and i still dont know how to approach selfshipping even if its the only thing that makes me feel happy i guess.

the entire year in general just made me realise its 50/50 to me. like sure i do enjoy it and i think its fun, but i also hate the fact that i question myself so much about it. that i just dont go on here anymore because of it.

[notjanine]

spent the summer prepping for and taking the worst exam of my life, riding out the lease at the worst place i've ever lived,* then being temporarily kinda homeless,** and getting dozens and dozens of job applications rejected. i had some fun in there, but my anxiety has been through the fucking roof on top of my regular summer depression.

then the last two weeks of august happened 😳

everything happens so much. somehow, i managed to find the perfect apartment for a reasonable rent, and now me and Books are living (together!) in a fantastic and charming new home- lots of space, big kitchen table, a balcony facing undeveloped woods, just off one of the major roads in the city that has my favorite grocery store and our favorite sandwich shop (where we were already regulars). plus, i've gotten not one, not two, but three (three!) job offers- and i can take them all!!! one is with a hospital where i did my favorite internship rotation, and i'm so excited that i get to go back there and get paid to do that job, it was a blast. another is right by my new place and it's similar to the other hospital, but it's slightly bigger and sees more complex cases, so i'll be comfortable and confident, but i'll still get some new, specific clinical experience in areas that i'm interested in.

and the third position is... literally my dream job. it's the job that's been the end goal since the moment i chose my field of study. grad school and the internship made me rethink all of my professional goals and push them back, thinking i wouldn't be able to get to them for so long because i'd need ~more experience~. but now i'm. uh. i did it. i did it??!

the two hospital jobs are just part time, but they both pay well. the other won't start for a few months bc my boss*** has to get insurance approval to add me to her private practice,**** but that's okay, because i have a lot of reading and learning i want to do in the meantime to prepare! and then it will start as part time working up to full time as i build up my case load, but i'll also get to decide my own hours and do some work from home. i'll get to work with my favorite kinds of patients! and i'll get fantastic professional development opportunities for specialization, if i want to. the other dietitians in the practice seem lovely, so i'm excited to work with them. and the pay is realllly good, gosh, for being fresh out of the internship, it's nuts.

so things will pick up as i go through orientation and onboarding for the two hospital jobs next month. but it'll get calmer again after that, so i'll have the time and energy to prepare for the more challenging work that starts later, which is really nice.

and in the meantime, i'll be tending the wee garden on my balcony and playing board games with the love of my life 💗

[portrait-of-a-little-thing]

hey what are your favorite things abt homestuck? favorite characters, panels, plot moments, anything at all that grabs you on the first read? i'm a longtime fan and so interested in what people love on first read

hi!! to start off: my top favorite character is definitely dave, hes really funny but i love the depth and complexity in his character that we started seeing later on. one of my absolute favorite things that homestuck did with the plot especially earlier on is how there would be a few plotlines or different things going on for a little while and then eventually everything would come together and it would be revealed that they were connected and it would like this epiphany moment, the first one that comes to mind is wv: ascend and i remember watching that flash with my jaw dropped. it was actually that moment that made me realize that i was going to be in it for the long haul with this comic. I also love how each character feels so individual and obviously typing quirks and text colors help with that but everyone really has their own personality and way of speaking and i love it. I also loved the running bits and callbacks that the comic had like pchooo or the acrobatic pirouette and “i cant believe your doing the fish pun thing while youre breaking up with me” with feferi and eridan but also later with meenah and vriska. I also love the music so much and the references of earlier songs in later ones bring everything together so well!! Some of my favorite flashes are jack: ascend, descend, dave: accelerate, make her pay, jade: enter, cascade, act 6 act 6 intermission 5 / vriskagram, terezi: remem8er, and collide!! the whole comic felt like such a journey and i love so many of the characters and something tells me this is one of those stories where the characters never really leave my heart. I can definitely see why someone i know reread this comic four times.

[gabseyoo]

PROOF — SAKUSA KIYOOMI

content: msby!kiyoomi, female reader, best friend!kiyoomi, pwp, cunnilingus, fingering, kinda best friends to lovers. word count: 2,7k.

note: this was supposed to be shameless smut but ended up being kind of romantic (?) just because a kiyoomi being in love with us is my sexual fantasy. also, i'm not satisfied with the ending, but i had no other ideas. maybe when i come up with something better ill change it, who knows :p

“Kiyoomi, do you go down on girls?”

The question took Kiyoomi off guard. You guys had spent the last twenty minutes in almost complete silence, just hanging out in his living room and completely ignoring the random movie you had chosen because you both were scrolling through your phones, which is why the last thing he expected to hear out of the blue was such a question.

He turned to look at you, who were lying across the couch with your feet resting in his lap and still staring at your phone screen. Not knowing what to say, a ‘huh’ was the only thing he could think of. 

“Just answer.” You poked his thigh with your foot. “It’s not like we’re strangers.” 

That was true. You two were good friends, practically best friends, and therefore, you both had full confidence in each other. But, you had always kept a limit when it came to talking about both his sex life and yours, to the point where that part of your respective lives was a complete mystery to each other. 

And this is a secret— but he liked it that way. Because he was more than sure that he didn’t want to know what you did with other men at all. Just thinking about it made his stomach turn with jealousy. That’s the reason he didn’t bother to tell you about his own experiences with other women either, just in case there was a small chance that you might feel the same way he did. 

“None of your business.” He answered sharply. 

You rolled your eyes before getting up from your comfortable position to sit cross-legged, “C’mon, Kiyoomi, It’s just a question.”

“A question I won’t answer.”

“Why not?” You crossed your arms, looking at him defiantly. 

Kiyoomi narrowed his eyes at your posture, why did you suddenly want to know that? Moreover, why did you insist on wanting to know? Did someone say something to you? Is there a rumor about him? Or maybe you had suddenly awakened an interest in him? He was overthinking, but still he hoped more than anything that it was the latter option rather than the others. 

“Just because.” He said, and before you could protest, he continued: “And, why are you asking anyway?” 

A smirk appeared on your face, “If you answer my question, I’ll answer yours. Deal?”

“Never mind.”

“You’ll never know why I asked, then.” You said, casually looking at your nails. “Unless we make a deal.”

He shouldn’t accept so easily, he knew, but now he was genuinely curious why you broke an unspoken rule between you two to ask him if he did orals, of all things. 

So, he agreed. “Deal.”

Your smile of victory almost made him smile too, but he did his best to remain serious. “Okay. Tell me.”

He sighed before answering honestly. “I do.”

Your eyes widened and an incredulous laugh escaped your lips before you said, “Really?” The surprise in your voice made him frown, why was that surprising? Should he be offended?

“Yeah.”

“Are you serious? You go down on girls?” You couldn't even hide the disbelief in your voice. “You?”

“I already said yes. Now, tell me. Why are you asking?”

Without further ado, you grabbed your phone that had been forgotten in your lap to unlock it, and a second later you were showing him what appeared to be your TikTok feed.

“A fan made a TikTok with the title: Ranking how good MSBY players are at giving head and you were raked as a zero just because he’d rather die than put his mouth there.”

What the fuck?!

“Let me see that.”

In the blink of an eye, Kiyoomi snatched the phone from you to watch the video with his own eyes, regretting it as soon as it started thanks to the embarrassing selection of music and photos chosen from the team members. He scoffed, a random person on the internet had felt entitled to make this kind of ranking just based on appearances and assumptions. It’s not like they could have any real evidence at the end of the day. But it seems that for many people a video of this kind told the absolute truth, because it had thousands of likes and thousands of comments, and—to his misfortune—he couldn’t help but read them.

Now he wished he had never done it. 

In addition to most of the comments agreeing and mocking Kiyoomi’s ranking, saying that at least his face makes up for it and that maybe he gives head as long as he has his face mask on—that one was actually funny, but he wouldn’t say that out loud—, the other vast majority agreed that Atsumu and Bokuto were the best. 

But the question here is, did you think the same?

“You actually believe this crap?” He asked, actually sounding more hurt than he planned. 

“Kiyoomi, it’s just a TikTok. Of course, I’ll believe it.” You were obviously trying to make a joke, but still, the expression on his face showed pure disbelief. “I’m joking, jeez.”

“I know it’s a just TikTok, but I still want to know.” He sounded serious. 

You sighed and rolled your eyes, perhaps thinking he was exaggerating, maybe he was, but he wasn’t offended by the fact that someone made that video, there were probably hundreds just like it. It was the fact that you, of all people, seemed to agree with an assumption about him and his very private intimate life. 

“Kiyoomi, I just thought it was funny. That’s why I asked.”

“But you didn’t believe me when I told you I did.”

“I did believe you.” He narrowed his eyes, showing that he obviously didn’t buy your words. “I’m not lying. I believed you, but— I was just… shocked.”

“Why?”

“It’s just that…never mind.”

“Tell me.” 

You looked him in the eye for a few seconds before sighing heavily.

“You’re… a little too special when it comes to cleanness and— where you put your mouth, you know?” You weren’t even looking him in the face, obviously nervous about the direction the conversation was taking. “I’m not judging you, we should all be careful where we put it. And, I just thought that… yeah” You waved your hand as you finished, trying to play it down. 

Kiyoomi couldn’t blame you or others for thinking that, after all, that was the kind of reputation he built for himself. But, even when he didn’t care what others thought about him, he always cared what you thought; for that reason alone, he wasn’t going to let you walk away with the wrong idea about him. 

“Yes, we should. But now you know that I actually go down.” He said, and, simply because he had a good feeling, he added: “And I’m pretty good at it, I can assure you.”

You scoffed. “Are you?”

“I am.” Confidence exuded in his voice, perhaps that was exactly why the next words came out of his mouth: “You want proof?”

What happened next was a delight to his eyes. 

You got fucking nervous, of course he noticed, you were his best friend after all. You widened your eyes, opened your mouth a couple of times in an attempt to say something but nothing came out. But what was a poem for him, was to see how you moved your hips slightly, in a movement that could have gone unnoticed if he hadn't paid all his attention to you. 

You cleared your throat as you looked away from his gaze. “I have no desire to ask your previous flings how good you are down there or watch any pornographic videos of you, so no, thanks.” You folded your arms as you sat up straight, suddenly finding the movie interesting. 

The room fell into silence, accompanied by a heavy tension that you two were obviously aware of. 

This situation was actually kind of funny. Thanks to a fucking TikTok, he now had an opportunity in front of him that he had been waiting for a long time. An opportunity he was going to take. 

“I wasn’t referring to that kind of proof.”

Three minutes later, you were lying on the couch with your head resting on a pillow, your pants thrown aside on the floor and Kiyoomi between your legs, spreading kisses across your belly. 

“This is weird.” You said, maybe in an attempt to break the intimate silence that had formed where only your breaths and his kisses could be heard. 

“It is.” He agreed before lowering his lips to your inner thighs, where he surprised you with a light bite that made you gasp. “We can stop if you want.”

You were quick to reply with a no and he smirked against your skin. Of course you didn’t want to stop, neither did he. Both of you by this point were already immersed in lust, even though it had only been a few minutes of foreplay.

When he was desperately taking off your pants minutes ago, Kiyoomi debated whether to just go for it or take it slow. 

But the moment he saw the longing in your eyes, how pretty you looked underneath him, he knew he would take his time. He didn’t just want to prove something to you; he actually wanted to taste you, to make you squirm, to make you enjoy this as much as he would. 

Gently caressing your thighs with both hands, he moved down until his mouth made contact with your pelvis, where he left another trail of kisses until he reached right where your clit was. Still above the fabric of your panties, he kissed you there, which was enough to elicit a moan of frustration from you.

“Please, just do it.” 

He kissed the same spot again before smirking. “Let me just go get my facemask, can’t do this without it.” 

His sudden joke made you burst into laughter which elicited a chuckle from him. “Don’t kill the mood.” You said as you gave a small pat to his hand that squeezed your thigh. 

He smiled and brought both of his hands to the waistband of your panties, pulling them down slowly. “At this point that’s impossible.”

“I know.” You muttered as you lifted your hips to let him remove the garment easily. 

As quickly as the garment hit the floor, Kiyoomi’s eyes focused on the middle of your legs, you may not have noticed, but the mere sight of your pussy glistening with your arousal made him twice as hard as he already was. 

“Don’t stare.” You said, trying to close your legs as much as you could since Kiyoomi was in the way.

No, no, no. There was no way for you to hide from him now, or ever. 

“Why not? You’re so fucking hot in all places.” 

Hearing his words, in an act of fluster, you brought both of your hands to cover your face, perhaps trying to hide how his praise made you feel. “You think so?”

The question came out almost in a whisper, and in response, he took both of your hands, interlaced your fingers and placed them on the sides of your head with the purpose of looking you in the eyes. 

“There’s no day when I don’t think that you’re hot,” He confessed, his voice deep and serious with the purpose of making you understand that he was not playing games. “Now that I just told you how crazy I’m for you, open your legs and let me make you feel good.”

You nodded, and staring at him with desire in your eyes, you opened your legs wide open again until that part of your body that he wanted to devour more than anything else was once again fully at his mercy.

Kiyoomi let go your hands and he lowered his body until his stomach made contact with the soft cushion of the couch. Now in that position, he wrapped his arms around your thighs, squeezing the flesh eagerly before dipping his head into the middle of your legs. 

“God.” You sighed, jerking your hips upward in surprise. 

He played slowly with his tongue, running it up and down before concentrating on sucking your clit. 

He was hard as fuck. Maybe more than he had ever been in his life. He even felt his tip leaking and was almost certain that if he started grinding his hips against the cushion, he could come at any moment. But he would save that for later. Right now, he was getting drunk on your taste and the sound of your moans. 

And fuck… those moans were heaven itself. 

He lowered his mouth, right at your entrance, where he began to lick gathering more of your juices before he deepened his mouth against your clit, sucking harder, quickly realizing that you liked it by the movement of your hips and the loud whimper that came out of your mouth. 

Kiyoomi was getting excited, even more so when he felt your hands stroking his head before pulling his curls, holding him closer to you, as if you were afraid he would break away, taking with him the pleasure you were feeling, but Kiyoomi wasn’t willing to do that, right now what he wanted most was you coming as hard as you could in his mouth. 

Hungry to increase your pleasure, he didn’t think twice when he let go of one of your thighs to stick a finger inside you, thrusting it in and out a few times before slipping another one in and curving his fingers to reach that sensitive spot inside you. 

“There, oh god, there.”

He would give you whatever you wanted, so he focused there. Feeling lovesick at this point. Loving the way you sounded. Loving the way you pulled his hair. Loving  the way your tight pussy squeezed his fingers. 

He moved his tongue back down to your entrance at the same time he pulled his fingers out, but only to start circling them over your clit. This is where you put a hand over your mouth to keep from screaming, but Kiyoomi didn’t want that, he wanted to hear you come undone for him, no matter if it woke up the neighbors. So with his free hand he took you by the wrist at the same time that he separated his mouth from your sex.

“Don’t hold back those sounds, I want to hear you scream for me. Okay?”

You nodded. Too shocked to formulate words. 

“Good girl.” He praised before placing a short kiss on your wrist, releasing it a second later to immediately return to seal his mouth with your wet pussy. 

This time he put both hands behind your knees to spread your legs wider and pushed them against your chest, giving himself more room to continue devouring you, proud that you were no longer shy to scream with pleasure when he flicked his tongue, sucked and bit your pretty pussy. 

“I’m close. Fuck! Don’t stop, please.”

Kiyoomi wouldn’t stop, he was sure of that.

It was a matter of seconds when started to came in your best friend’s mouth. 

Kiyoomi kept licking, drinking up all your release until your legs began to shake from overstimulation. 

He gave a peck to your clit before gently letting go of your legs, settling them slowly on the cushion. He caressed your thighs as he left kiss after kiss on your belly, helping you relax as you tried to control your breathing after such an intense experience. 

You were lying there staring at the ceiling, your chest rising and falling rapidly. Perhaps processing everything that just happened, but Kiyoomi wouldn’t give you time for regrets, not now, not ever. He moved on top of you, resting his forearms on either side of your head and looked down at you, connecting your gazes before asking with a cocky smile on his face, “And? How was it?”

You let out a chuckle and rolled your eyes playfully before answering, “I think TikTok and I owe you an apology.” You said as you wrapped your arms around his neck. “You’re definitely not a zero.”

“I’ll be happy with yours alone.” He said before lowering his face further until your noses brushed, “Your opinion is the only one I care about afterall.” He added before finally kissing you.

[cathnospam]

Thinking about doing one of those 21 sex questions for couples with canon!Katsuki Bakugo aka your boyfriend.

Black!Reader, Virginity Loss Mentioned, Canon!Bakugo, Mentions of Sex, Slightly Smutty, Bantering

He thinks it’s stupid at first. Not wanting to engage in such a dumb activity, “For fucking what? I already know everything about your body.”

Bakugo was always the type to tell you no, as he was doing it, but this suggestion did take a bit of convincing seeing as he was never the type to be very vocal about the intimate moments with you both.

“C’mon…” You whine holding his strong bicep he had curled in with the other. You almost get distracted by his strength and began lifting your legs to swing on him as if you were a monkey.

“ALRIGHT!” He shrugs you off, sucking his teeth seeing how excited you were to finally wear him down. “What are the questions, dumbass.”

You both lean on the headboard of your dorm bed and scroll through the several ads and comments to find the section of questions.

“Okay, first question; are you and your partner sexually active—“

“Obviously.”

“‘Suki…”

“What?! It’s a dumbass question.”

You roll your eyes and scoff at your pouting boyfriend still with his arms crossed and eye’ing you down and landing his eyes back to the screen.

“Does your partner know how to satisfy you?”

“Well yes, I believe you do.”

Bakugo blows out his nose and looks away, not wanting to answer you almost took offense and your face must have shown it, because he gestures his hand out to you, “Of course you do, dumbass why do you think we do it a lot.”

“A lot is an understatement.”

“What?! Not even you idiot!”

“When’s the last time we had sex, ‘Suki.”

“…”

“Hellooooo.”

“Am I answering your questions or the fucking websites.”

“Question 4: How often do you and your partner have sex.”

“DON’T SKIP 3–“

“QUESTION 4–“

“THIS FUCKING AFTERNOON WE DID SO WHAT?��….”You were practically begging for my dick.”

“I wasn’t the one humping your ass when I got out the shower—“

“SHUT UP. And I wasn’t humping you I’m not a fucking dog.”

“Grinding whatever, your dick almost slipped inside from what you was doing!”

“AND?!”

“We have had sex about 4 times this week. It’s only Tuesday.”

Bakugo shifts around, cheeks warming up, he can’t help it. Honestly, it shocked him how much he enjoyed sex with you, you took each other virginity and through out the time you both were just having casual sex it was a lot of learning involved and it became addictive to him. It started off as him just wanting to learn to be better, but now the improvement is what also motivates him.

The way you scratch his back, the way you cream on his dick, your soft plushy body against his, the faces you make are all because of him. You subconsciously stroke his ego when you do that.

You became his best worst distraction. The main reason it became embarrassing for him is because you brought it out. He loves and hates you sometimes for it.

“Then we’ll cool down. I told you to always tell me no if you don’t want to.” He deadpans trying to ignore how shy I’m his body language is becoming.

“Who said I wanted that? I never told you no for a reason. Blondie.”

“Don’t call me that.”

You giggle, looking back at the dimly lit screen to scroll for more questions, “What’s something or somethingS your partner does during or after sex you can’t get enough of.”

You wait, turning your head at your Blondie, seeing as he is looking at your first to respond, “Ladies first.”

“You—ugh fine.” You sit up from your bent over position and Katsuki’s eyes couldn’t tear from yours. In all honesty he was curious to know too. “I love those…rare moments when you’re directly in my ear and you moan my name, you don’t talk often during, but it’s …hot or whatever.”

He huffs out a chuckle looking away for a moment, he figured from the way you clench down everytime he does.

“Anything else?”

You pause, poking your tongue through your cheek. “Yeah. When you hold my hand when you go down on me, you always act like I would hate your sweat on your hands when I really love it.”

“Because you’re gross.”

“Oh shut up!”

“….what else.”

His voice grew soft. You didn’t want to tease him about it, but you also loved when he became attentive to what you said, you knew by the twinkle in his eye he wants to know more, mainly because he definitely will be doing all those things you love even more now.

“I love when you slap my ass. It hurts in a good way.”

“I do too. Next time I might land an explosion on it—“

“You bet not, you damn pervert.”

“Shut up, what else.”

“…um….it’s embarrassing.”

“Just fucking tell me it’s just us.”

“….When you clean me up after, y’know either with a towel or in the bath. And sometimes in the bath it lead to you to …”

“To…?”

“Finger me.”

You notice the curl in his lip, it’s kinda hot to him how you’re admitting all of this. He wants to pry more, but from your embarrassment he will spare you…for now.

“Well, I guess I like how you get so clingy when you’re cumming. It’s hot. You act like a fucking koala and you just won’t let go of me.”

“Just Like…?”

“Tch.”

You teased him, you knew that word love is still hard for him to say, and you both knew what he meant, but it was worth a try to get him to say it.

“I ….enjoy when you demand what you want. Like the other day when you told me to lay back so you can ride my thigh.”

“….” You couldn’t say much but smile and feel shy. Honestly it was something you were terrified to do because who on earth tells Katsuki what to do?

“Good. Glad y’liked it.”

“Don’t make it a regular occurrence though you not in charge here.”

“Shut up!”

“Also when you kiss me all over after cumming. You’re such a damn sap after getting your brains fucked out it’s kinda hot.”

“Y’know….”

“What it’s true, dumbass.”

“Anything else.” You sang, seeing his flinch at you coming closer to his face he groans, “That’s all you can’t get enough of?”

“Tch…I ain’t telling you all of ‘em.”

“It would take all night.”

Bakugo prayed you wouldn’t hear that last part, but you did. Knowing he would probably walk out the room, so you don’t tease him, “One more. Just one more.”

For the first time in a while you seen conflict in his eyes, also similar to when you first asked him if he was ready to have sex with you.

The silence was loud, not awkward but it was enough to make you want to move on until he spoke—-

“The way you trust me.”

“…”

“You let me inside you, touch you, and all that mushy shit we have read in those books and knowing you let me is fucking…hot or whatever.”

“….”

“I say bend over you do it, I make you say my name and you do it, I say on your knees you do it….you just….trust that I’m ganna take care of you. Like you depend on me.”

You still didn’t have much to say, you realized being dependent on Katsuki was something he always took pride in. He may “complain”, but deep down he loves knowing he is the only one that sees you at your most vulnerable.

Bakugo hates the silence, throwing up all of that love knowing damn well he struggles to even say the word, he groans uncomfortably, “Fucking say something—“

You lean over to him, lips crashing gently with his, you taste the minty mess of his breath as he slides his tongue inside your mouth, a natural reflex he has a habit of doing whenever you two kiss.

“Of course I trust you. You’re Katsuki.”

His eyes widen for a second before pulling away, “The hell thats supposed to mean.” He says light heartily .

“‘Means you’re worth trusting….I hope you trust me too.”

You idiot. If only you knew he trusts his life with you.

You stretch back on the headboard and exhale and ease the tension, “Been knowing you and ‘Zuzu since elementary of course I grew to trust you.”

Bakugo groans at the mention of Deku and that damn nickname. “Whatever.” He blushes. “What are the other questions.”

“Oh so noooowwww you wanna know—-“

“WHAT ARE THEY?!”

[rosicheeks]

No longer possible to buy or renew snap?

I mean you can, I’m not planning on deleting my snap at any time.

I just don’t know when or if I’ll be posting/making content again.

[wormgremlin]

People who ask others their pronouns are often ill prepared to cope with people answering with anything outside the anticipated answers -- he, she, OR they, and often having already decided on one (or a lot of times it isn't even a question asked in good faith, rather box checking and virtue flagging).

Being a good ally is not asking someone their pronouns and going oh you're nb, they/them. It's taking whatever the fuck comes out of the other person's mouth and respecting it.

Sorry babe but if me saying I use "any and all" pronouns stresses you out, that's honestly a you problem. It's not my job to pick a "true" or "most preferred" pronoun for you to call me by when my preference is, in fact, use everything chaotically and change it up often.

If you want to ask for clarification on how I'd like various pronouns used, that's fine. But saying to my face "ah I always get stressed about any pronouns - what do I call you"? Just rude tbh. I told you my preference, figure it out. It/they/he/she/xe/zir/fae/rat/bitch/ass/motherfucker I don't care, it's not my problem.

[jimxnslight]

Fool's Gold || Part I

Summary: Sweet Y/N, with her fluffy pastel dresses, soft makeup, and ditzy mannerisms. She’s seen as a fool in a world where there is no place for such things, but little do they know, the only fools are them.

Pairing: mafia leader!Jungkook x mafia leader's daughter!reader

Genre: mafia au, arranged marriage au

Word Count: 10k

Warnings: most warnings associated with mafia fics (e.g. violence, blood, etc), additional warnings might be added as the story progresses

<< masterlist || next part >>

“I heard that she’s a complete airhead.”

Jungkook’s expensive shoes smacked against the pristine white and gold marble floors as he continued to walk through the lavish hallway, hands disappearing behind his pockets while his steps were slow and confident. Most would think he was choosing to ignore the comment, but his closest friend knew better than to rush a man as calculating as Jungkook. 

Instead, Taehyung strolled alongside him, taking in the glittering chandeliers looming over their heads and the intricate designs carved into the white walls that were much too traditional for his taste. Jungkook and Taehyung were nowhere near out of place in the sea of extravagance with their custom suits and shiny black dress shoes. Taehyung, the more simple of the two, had his brown hair parted and pushed back to reveal a blemish free forehead while his grey and black suit complimented the grey specks in his brown irises. 

On the other hand, Jungkook’s black on black outfit adorned two expensive cufflinks and a gold brooch attached to his lapel. Taehyung’s gaze dropped to his black hair, which he noticed had grown in the past month. 

When Taehyung realised that Jungkook wasn’t going to speak, he decided to fill the silence. 

“Like apparently she’s huge on wearing pink and frilly stuff -which I guess is just a girl thing- but still, this is a mafia not a tea party.”

He paused, waiting for his comrade to offer his thoughts, but was met with silence once again. 

“I’ve also heard she’s dumber than a pile of rocks. Barely passed high school and then dropped out of university not even a month in. Her major wasn’t even that hard. Commerce, was it?”

Taehyung’s eyebrows furrowed as Jungkook continued to lengthen the silence. 

“And as you already must know, she was also married about a year ago but then was widowed after her husband was killed by a rival gang on the same day. Even though their marriage didn’t even last a full 24 hours, she had been so traumatised by the whole thing that apparently she didn’t even speak for an entire month after the ordeal. Can you imagine how much of a princess she must be for a simple death to shake her that much? She must be a real- come on man, how long are you going to make me go on?”

Jungkook turned his head to offer him a sly grin, “I was wondering when you would reach your limit.”

Taehyung gave him a halfhearted punch to the arm, “you’re such a jerk. Answer my question man. I’m dying to know what she’s actually like.”

He followed Jungkook as he turned into another hallway, curious as to what he thought of her, but his answer had him staring at Jungkook incredulously. 

“I don’t know.”

Taehyung faltered in his step, gaping at the back of the man who continued through the hallway nonchalantly. When the weight of his answer finally processed completely in Taehyung’s mind, he ran forward so that he could walk alongside his friend once again. 

“I think you misunderstood my question,” Taehyung tried again slowly, “I want to know about Lee Y/N, you know, your soon to be wife? The one you’re about to marry right now?”

“What is there to know?” Jungkook commented, mind occupied with a topic of much more importance, “a marriage with her will allow for the unification of two powerful mafia families and will also allow for an heir to be born. Is that not the whole point of marriages for individuals like us?”

“Well yeah, but there’s no harm in getting to know her at least a little bit. Did you even hear about the ‘dumb as rocks’ part when I was rambling?”

“That will only make her easier to control,” he deadpanned.

“Fine, whatever. Is she at least pretty?”

Taehyung’s eyes widened even more when Jungkook didn’t respond, “please tell me you’ve met her at least once. Oh my god, have you even looked at a picture of her?” 

Jungkook's silence was all Taehyung needed to know that the answer was, in fact, no,” I knew I shouldn’t have gone out of the country! My parents kept telling me everything would be fine and they’d take care of the whole thing but you haven’t even met her once? I should’ve made my return flight earlier, then I could’ve-”

Taehyung’s voice faltered as he noticed Jungkook’s distant expression, causing his brows to furrow. He wasn’t listening to a word he was saying, which wasn’t something entirely out of the ordinary, but it usually wasn’t this bad. He sighed as he shifted his gaze to the expensive hall before him. 

“Is this about the Parks?” He asked, noticing his friend’s focus return.

“It’s the Parks and the Mins,” Jungkook admitted, “ever since their alliance, they’ve been getting bold. They made a move on our West docks last week and would have been successful in seizing them if it weren’t for the blackmail I managed to procure at the last minute. But that won’t hold them off for long.”

Taehyung’s head tilted to the side, “you’ve always enjoyed a challenge. Why’s this bothering you so much?”

Jungkook turned into another hallway to finally come face to face with a large pair of grandiose double doors that towered over them. The two men came to a stop, aware that their conversation was now on a timer. 

“I just… have an uneasy feeling,” he said, unable to reveal anymore to Taehyung. He couldn’t bring himself to tell his best friend what he had really witnessed when he visited the docks yesterday.

Taehyung, clueless to Jungkook’s inner turmoil, slapped him on the back, lightening the mood with a grin, “come on man, this is your wedding. You’ll figure everything out later, for now just relax. You deserve it.”

Before he could protest, Taehyung shoved the double doors open to reveal an enormous and crowded wedding hall. The white and gold marble floor stretched across the entire room, while multiple diamonds came together to form a giant chandelier that hung over the hundreds of tables that had been decorated with shiny silverware and pristine white roses. The people were just as decorated as the furniture, with their elegant gowns and glamorous jewellery. 

At the sound of the doors opening, the once chattering crowd silenced, opting to sneak glances at Jungkook and his friend instead. Hushed whispers echoed around the hall as Jungkook straightened his back and held his head high before making his way to the centre of the room. Behind him, Taehyung took his place, his outgoing and extroverted personality tucked away to look just as regal and intimidating as the groom. The crowd began gathering on either side of the aisle, clearly excited for the bride who had been scheduled to appear any second now. 

Most men’s hearts would be racing during a time like this, Jungkook thought distantly, eyes focused on the aisle as well. Marriage to others was supposed to symbolise unwavering love and devotion. But not for him. For him marriage was simply a contract, a means to an end that he hoped would lessen the burden of a number of challenges. In a world like this, there was no such thing as love. 

Only power. 

The sound of the double doors opening pulled him from his thoughts, with two professionally dressed workers fixing them on either side so that they remained open this time. Jungkook watched a pair of women in what seemed like light pink bridesmaid dresses trail behind two girls who couldn’t have been more than five throwing white and light pink flower petals in the air. Behind the entourage was a figure drenched in white. 

You walked slowly into the room, your glimmering white dress trailing behind you as a thick white veil draped over your face and the front of your dress. Jungkook could only make out your hands clutching a small bouquet of white roses while your arm looped around your father’s, who was slowly guiding you down the aisle. Despite the aid, he couldn’t help but notice an uneasiness to your steps and a slight shake in your hands. 

The crowd’s gaze stayed fixed on your figure, drinking in the Jeon Jungkook’s soon to be wife. There were some gasps of astonishment at the beauty of your dress and figure, while there were some gasps of jealousy towards the woman who was taking Jungkook off the market. You didn’t seem to pay them any attention as your head stayed fixed in front of you, focusing on not falling as you continued through the aisle. 

To Jungkook, it felt like years had passed before you finally reached the small steps leading to the stage he was standing on, your bridesmaids taking their places on the opposite side of where Taehyung was standing. Your father unlooped his arm from yours and stepped back to sit on one of the seats that had been reserved for him, leaving you to hesitantly step onto the stage yourself. Your heel wobbled as you brought your foot forward and Jungkook knew exactly what would happen before it did. 

He watched your heel slip sideways, causing you to careen to your right under the heaviness of your dress. But before you could crash into the large pots of white roses, Jungkook shot forward so that his hand could grab your waist, hoisting you up to prevent you from falling. The crowd swooned at the gesture, murmuring about its romantic nature, though all Jungkook could wonder was how you’ve been surviving in a mafia family for so long. Taehyung had only said you were dumb, not a complete klutz too. 

He could feel the warmth of your delicate hand on his shoulder as he guided you up the steps, only letting go of you once the two of you were facing the patiently waiting priest. Once he had motioned for everyone to sit, he began his sermon in an obnoxiously boring voice. Jungkook had no particular interest in paying attention to a speech he had listened to multiple times growing up. Instead, he took the chance to survey you briefly. With your veil still hiding your face, he could only take in your perfect figure and pristine skin. 

Eventually, the priest asked you to remove your veil, to which you complied slowly. Taehyung came forward, offering to take the bouquet in your hands while your bridesmaids helped you hesitantly lift the soft white cloth over your head. 

A wave of hushed whispers spread throughout the crowd at the sight of your face, one that caught Jungkook off guard. Your eyes had been lined with a light liner, while your lips and cheeks had been made to look dainty. Your hair fell from the top of your head to your shoulders, styled in a way that framed your features and neck. Jungkook noticed a small silver necklace in the shape of a heart resting against your exposed collarbone. 

Your makeup made you look so innocent and… young. Jungkook almost wanted to pull Taehyung’s parents aside and confirm that you really were twenty three and not some nineteen year old. It was a bit of a turn off, he realised, slightly bothered by the fact. As a twenty six year old, he obviously wasn’t into teenagers, so he didn’t know what having a wife that looked like one was going to do for him. 

Then again, he wasn’t marrying you for some kind of gratification. He was marrying you because he needed to form a strong alliance between your father’s gang and his so that he could be, or at the very least appear, stronger than the Mins and Parks. You were nothing more than a path to more power and, aside from upholding his responsibilities as a husband, he would treat you as such.

As the priest continued to drone on, Jungkook continued to analyse your form. He watched your eyes stay focused on the priest before they strayed, hesitantly landing on Jungkook for a split second. When you noticed his gaze already on you, a small squeak sounded from your lips before you quickly shifted your focus forward. With the bouquet of flowers now hanging from Taehyung’s hand, your own fingers were clasped awkwardly in front of you. 

You were apparently everything Taehyung had painted you as earlier, Jungkook thought. Your makeup and mannerisms had an air of exaggerated innocence, while your body language was shy and sheepish. He had no problem imagining you as a weak girl that was so traumatised by the death of your first husband that you couldn’t utter a single word the following month. 

The priest turned to the seated crowd, beckoning anyone that had an issue with the marriage to step forward and speak their mind. Just as Jungkook expected, no one dared make a stand, preferring to cherish the connection between their head and neck instead. Following the silence, you and Jungkook were made to stand facing each other.

Your gaze was fixed on his collar, seemingly too shy to meet Jungkook’s eyes. It only confirmed his suspicions regarding your confidence, or lack thereof. 

Yet, despite your evidently timid nature and lack of intelligence, Jungkook couldn’t help but experience an uncanny feeling lingering at the back of his mind. Perhaps it was his untrusting nature, or maybe he had just been forced to over analyse you during the long and boring sermon. But he could have sworn that there was something about you. Just… something about the way you had trouble meeting his gaze yet seemed to have no problem in scanning Taehyung up and down. For a fraction of a moment, the look in your eyes was almost calculated, as if you had been assessing him. But just as fast as Jungkook thought he saw it, the look disappeared, replaced by a timid and shy gaze once again. It left him questioning whether he had even seen it in the first place, or whether he was letting paranoia see things that weren’t there. 

Finally, the priest turned to the two of you and made you both say your vows outloud. They were the standard vows, Jungkook and you putting no effort in creating a confession that you both knew was ingenuine. Instead, the two of you repeated after him, answering “I do” when the time was right. Jungkook was glad that, despite your seemingly ditzy nature, you hadn’t requested any giant romantic gestures. According to your father, you had even had no problem with Jungkook requesting that there be no kiss at the altar. It made his life a lot easier and truthfully made this entire situation a lot less awkward.

To Jungkook’s relief, the priest finally addressed the crowd once more, ending the sermon on a final note filled with hope and prosperity. He spoke about how the marriage would strengthen the two mafias, mitigating worries relating to attacks from enemies that may wish to harm them. Jungkook had already expected this part of the speech, as he had been the one to tell the priest to say those exact words. 

At the end of the sermon, Jungkook and you were made to walk down the aisle back to where he knew his expensive car was waiting. He turned to you, looping his arm around yours so that you wouldn’t fall again, and guided you down the steps slowly. He noticed that your every step was still wobbly and he could feel your hand shaking as you placed it on his bicep to steady yourself further. But this time, with the veil now draped behind you, he could see the distress in your face as well. Your eyes were wide as you took in the crowd surrounding you, looking as naive as Taehyung had made you out to be. 

Jungkook tried to remind himself of Taehyung’s words. About how you had barely been able to pass high school and then completely dropped out of university a month in. About how your style consisted of pink and frilly clothes that didn’t have much place in the mafia. About how, at this moment, you seemed almost scared of the crowd and attention. 

A girl like that was shy and naive and ditzy. Aside from being slightly irritating, that meant you couldn’t be much of a threat to him or anyone else. If anything your incompetence would be a threat to your own self. Jungkook had nothing to worry about when it came to you. 

So he tried not to be unsettled. 

He tried not to be unsettled by the fact that, despite your apparently innocent and weak nature, your fingers were gripping into his bicep so hard he would no doubt wake up with a bruise tomorrow morning. 

He tried not to be unsettled by the way your shy gaze, which stayed fixed on the floor, would sometimes stray upwards to almost study the crowd around you before quickly darting back to the ground. 

He tried not to be unsettled when you looked up at him to give him a bashful smile, one that the logical part of him agreed looked sweet and innocent enough.

Yet, why did another part of him wonder whether there had been something else lurking behind those seemingly innocent eyes?

-

-

-

The only thing that Jungkook had learned about you from the car ride was that your voice was as light and soft as your appearance. 

The ride in his black car decorated with gleaming small white roses and ribbons had been mostly silent, the two of you making no effort to start a conversation. Jungkook had never been one for small talk, more than content to let Taehyung talk for hours instead. The reason for your lack of conversation, though, was unknown to him. 

It was only when he was speeding through the highway that you had spoken to request that he slow down a bit. Your voice had been soft and timid, as if you were scared that Jungkook would lash out at you for the simple request. Or maybe that was just the way you spoke. Considering your personality, Jungkook wouldn’t find that too hard to believe.

Now the two of you walked through the entrance of his home, your eyes taking in the grandeur of it all. Despite its vastness, Jungkook felt that this was where he felt the most comfortable: between the white and fawn walls, the elaborately designed bannisters, and the creme marble floors. His home had remained the only constant in his life and, because of that, he cherished it immensely. 

There were only a few people that Jungkook had allowed inside, all of whom were people that he trusted with his life. This was the first time, he realised, that someone outside of those few was stepping foot onto the marble floor and laying their eyes on the spiralling staircase. It was an odd feeling, allowing you to enter into what he felt was the only place that truly allowed his mind and body to relax. 

He observed your reaction curiously, taking in your wide eyes. They bounced from one thing to the next, each structure seeming to fascinate you more and more. He still couldn’t shake off the feeling that you were assessing the space, but the logical part of him kept trying to reassure himself that you couldn’t possibly be considered any kind of threat. 

The sound of the door opening behind him pulled him from his thoughts. He turned around to find Taehyung walking through the doorway, a particular look on his face. Jungkook recognised it right away, causing him to turn to you for a moment while calling over one of the maids. 

“Get her to the bedroom,” Jungkook commanded the maid as Taehyung stepped beside him, “and help her take off her makeup and dress into something comfortable.”

The maid nodded before she began to guide you up the flight of stairs, pointing out a few directions here and there to get you comfortable with the new environment. Jungkook watched you look back at him and Taehyung for a split second, an unreadable look in your eyes, before you faced forward once again and allowed yourself to be dragged away wordlessly. 

Once you had disappeared up the stairs, Jungkook turned to Taehyung with a raised eyebrow.

“Well?” He prodded. 

Taehyung glanced at the top of the stairs to make sure you really were gone, “I should be asking you that. What do you think of her?”

Jungkook mulled over his question for a moment, “she seems to be everything you said she is. Although, are you sure-”

“She is one hundred percent twenty three years old. I triple checked that one,” Taehyung said immediately, hands up in a gesture of surrender. 

Jungkook let his hands nestle into his pockets, wondering if he should bring up his other concerns as well. Uptil now, you haven’t actually done or said anything worth garnering suspicion. Jungkook just seemed to be picking up on small things here and there, but he wasn’t sure if those things were just him being paranoid or genuinely things that he should be cautious over. This whole marriage thing was proving to be a lot more confusing than he had initially thought. 

“What is it?” Taehyung asked, noticing his friend’s silence. Jungkook hesitated for a moment, but, after earning a questioning look from Taehyung, he relented slightly. 

“How well of a background check did your parents do on her?” Jungkook asked cautiously. He didn’t want Taehyung to know too much of how he was feeling at the moment, in case this was just his mind being overactive, but something in Taehyung’s expression seemed to indicate that he knew a lot more than what Jungkook was letting on. 

“They did a very thorough one, of course,” Taehyung said, eyeing Jungkook knowingly, “you know my parents. If there’s one thing that they’re the best at, it’s uncovering people’s secrets.”

Then he added with a smile, “couldn’t get away with much while growing up because of it.”

Jungkook let his gaze wander around the room, “I just…”

“You’re just suspicious of her,” Taehyung finished, causing Jungkook to look his way, “of course you’re suspicious Jungkook, you’re letting a girl that you’ve never even met before into your house for the first time. It’s a natural reaction, especially considering how untrusting we’ve been conditioned to be since we were young.”

Taehyung clapped Jungkook on the back reassuringly, “I was the exact same way when I married Chaewon. Hell, in our first year of being married I even accused her of being a traitor when she was planning a surprise party for my birthday. When she finally told me… man, it took me a whole year to make it up to her. On another note, from a married man to a newly married man, don’t accuse your wife of anything unless you’re a hundred and ten percent sure of it. Otherwise you’ll never hear the end of it.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes, causing Taehyung to laugh.

“Besides, have you seen Y/N? She’s so shy and naive, her own reflection in the mirror must frighten her. I doubt you have anything to worry about, especially after my parents’ background check. Just enjoy yourself, man, it’s your wedding night,” Taehyung said with a knowing smirk. 

Obviously ignoring the suggestive comment, Jungkook nodded, finding logic in Taehyung’s other words. Jungkook had never been married, all of this was new to him. But if Taehyung, who had been married for almost a decade, said feelings like this were normal, then maybe he really was just being overly paranoid about the situation. You’d had a thorough background check done, which revealed nothing, and your personality was quite clear to Jungkook after he’d observed you at the wedding. 

It was time Jungkook started trying to enjoy this marriage as much as he could. He was going to be stuck with you indefinitely, and constantly being suspicious of you was only going to wear him out, especially since you now had access to the only place he allowed himself to be free of the constantly vigilant and calculating mind that came with being the leader of the Jeons. 

Jungkook turned to Taehyung, about to thank him for the insight, but the sound of the door opening once again caused the two to shift their gaze to behind them. The sight of the man walking through the doorway immediately had Jungkook wrinkling his nose in distaste while Taehyung’s expression had become a distant neutral. The man didn’t seem to mind the reactions if he noticed them, casually strolling deeper into the house until he was standing before the two. 

“Jungkook, Taehyung,” Daehyun nodded, the respectful gesture somehow seeming more disrespectful if anything. He had clearly just come back from the wedding, still wearing his black suit and light brown hair styled back, “you just got married, yet I see only Taehyung and no bride. Shall I assume the two of you are running away together?”

The tasteless joke was followed by a deep laugh, one that belonged to neither Jungkook nor Taehyung. Instead they just stared at him with an unamused scowl.

“Relax, it’s only a joke,” he shook his head, gaze wandering the place casually, “I doubt your wife and kid would like the thought of that anyway.”

Taehyung’s jaw ticked at Daehyun’s words. Even if he hadn’t directly threatened or disrespected them in any way, just the mention of his family from his mouth was enough for Taehyung’s gaze to turn icy.

“Careful Daehyun, you’re standing before two mafia leaders,” Taehyung said, voice low and intimidating, “I would be less casual in our presence if I were you.”

To Taehyung and Jungkook’s dismay, Daehyun simply chuckled, “ah yes, but Jungkook and I are cousins. He’ll cut me some slack, won’t he?”

Jungkook didn’t answer, even after Daehyun gave his arm a lighthearted punch. Daehyun was the cousin that Jungkook could never be rid of, no matter how badly he wanted to. He was slimy and tactless and everything Jungkook hated rolled into one unbearable being. Having to give him access to his home, his only place of peace, had been one of the hardest things to do. But at the time, Jungkook had had to make sacrifices and this had been one of them. 

Daehyun, undeterred by his cousin’s lack of response, leaned his arm on Jungkook’s shoulder casually, “congratulations by the way. When I saw your wife’s face- god did she look young! You’re so lucky man, I hope my future wife turns out like that.”

Jungkook grimaced as he suddenly felt the desire to wipe off any remnants of Daehyun’s touch from his suit. Daehyun had attended the same university as Taehyung and Jungkook, yet he had evidently obtained none of the class that they had. Everyday he wondered how the two of them could possibly be related. For the sake of Jungkook’s mental wellbeing, sometimes he liked to imagine Daehyun had actually been adopted and his parents had simply decided not to share that piece of information. 

“I should get going,” Jungkook said stiffly, brushing his cousin’s arm off his shoulder. He fixed his suit as Daehyung smirked at him, likely thinking of Jungkook’s comment as more suggestive than he had actually meant. 

Jungkook faced Taehyung to give him a curt nod before he turned and began walking up the stairs, not bothering to use the fawn iron bannisters on either side of him. He could hear Taehyung taking his leave through the front door, dragging a complaining Daehyun behind him to Jungkook’s satisfaction. The sound of the front door shutting had never sounded so delightful. 

A silence ensued as Jungkook walked through the hallway upstairs, continuing until he paused in front of his bedroom’s door. He couldn’t hear any noises coming from inside the room, so, with a light knock against the white and fawn wood, his hand wrapped around the handle to turn it and finally push the door open. 

The windows displayed an almost set sun, coating the atmosphere in a blanket of dimness. Everything about his bedroom had been changed. His once dark brown and white bed had been switched out for a cream and fawn coloured one, with a bouquet of vibrant red roses sitting atop the fancy and plush duvet, while his black leather couches had been replaced by light cloth ones. The ceiling and walls had been painted white, complimenting the new white and fawn patterned marble floor. His old dresser had also disappeared, a cream coloured dresser twice its size sitting in its place instead. 

Aside from the drastic changes that had been made to his bedroom, no doubt to signify the change that came with marriage, the first thing Jungkook noticed was the maid who was drawing the curtains closed. The room would have fallen into complete darkness if it weren’t for the lamps sitting atop the bedside tables which were emanating a warm light around the space. 

The second thing he noticed was you, who was sitting timidly on the edge of the bed and facing him. Your fingers were playing awkwardly in front of you while your gaze had been fixed on the floor, but at the sound of the door opening, your head raised to look at Jungkook. The sight of your face once again caught him off guard, the lack of makeup revealing a different side of you. 

You no longer looked young. Without the innocent look that had been created with the blushes and the eyeliners and the lip glosses, Jungkook could see the mature shape of your eyes and the defined look of your features. You looked your age now, a lot more maturity prominent in your appearance. 

You were pretty. Jungkook could admit that much now that you didn’t resemble a teenager. He wondered why you had done your makeup like that in the first place. He’d been to many weddings before and none of the brides had been made to look so young. Then again, Taehyung had already told him that, on top of looking innocent and naive, you seemed to dress the part as well. 

“Is something wrong?” Your soft voice asked, eyes blinking innocently up at him. 

Jungkook shook his head, motioning for the maid to leave the room. She gave you both a low bow before scurrying out the doorway, making sure to close the door behind her. 

“No,” he finally answered. For the first time in a long time he wasn’t entirely sure what to do. He wasn’t sure if you were expecting anything to happen tonight, or if you even wanted anything to happen for now. 

His gaze lowered as he mulled over his next actions. You had changed out of your wedding dress into a light pink, mesh lace nightgown that came all the way down to your knees with a silk bow stitched into the centre of your chest, as if your clothes were meant to compensate for the lack of makeup dolling up your features. He almost wanted to raise an eyebrow at you, but you seemed much too fragile to be ridiculed. 

Alternatively, he decided to take an experimental step in your direction, surveying your reaction closely. He watched your fingers close tighter around the duvet on which you sat, your gaze hesitantly darting everywhere but him. That was answer enough for him to know how far you were ready to take it tonight. So instead, he passed the bed, opting instead to drop onto the couch on the far end of the room. While he was facing you, you had to turn your head to keep him in your sights. 

“What would you like to do now?” He asked you, resting an arm over the back of the couch while he crossed an ankle over his knee. 

Your gaze dropped to your lap, watching your fingers fidget against each other nervously. It was almost as if having to answer a question like that had you stressed, which again made Jungkook wonder how you had survived growing up in a mafia family. How could you have been this weak?

“I-I don’t know,” you squeaked, not able to meet his gaze. 

Jungkook sighed, turning his head to the side to survey the room. Technically, the two of you could just call it a night and go to sleep. You were clearly too shy to even speak a word to him, and Jungkook had never been one to beg others for things. Only time would tell how well the two of you would get to know each other. 

But then Jungkook’s gaze dropped to the coffee table in front of him, noticing some sort of gift basket placed in its centre. It was obviously a wedding gift, filled with chocolates, scented candles, roses… and some wine and champagne. Jungkook has always been more of a whiskey guy, but right now he’d take just about anything. 

“Why don’t we have a drink?” He suggested, uncrossing his leg so that he could lean forward and grab the top of the expensive-looking bottle of red wine. He prayed you weren’t one of those people that didn’t drink, your innocent personality couldn’t possibly extend all the way to drinking as well. 

You paused for a moment, taking in the bottle in Jungkook’s hand, before slowly nodding your head, to Jungkook’s relief. 

He beckoned you over with his free hand, “come here.”

You hesitated before slowly pushing yourself off the bed and took small steps towards him. Jungkook waited patiently until you were standing right in front of the couch, hands clasped shyly in front of you while your gaze stayed glued to the floor. He held up the bottle of wine and champagne in front of you, hoping you weren’t so dumb that you wouldn’t understand the question in his actions. Thankfully you studied the two bottles before a shaky hand raised and tapped against the bottle of champagne. 

He pushed the bottle in your direction, forcing you to take it in your own hands, before standing up from the couch. The unexpected action seemed to scare you, causing you to immediately take a timid step backwards while you hugged the bottle to your chest. Jungkook had to suppress a tired, and maybe even slightly annoyed sigh, as he manoeuvred past you. He was trying to be patient, but this was becoming ridiculous. 

“You get that open while I wash up,” he said to you, pointing at the bottle still pressed to your chest, “okay?”

You nodded slowly, allowing him to turn away from you and walk into the joint bathroom. Once the door was closed behind him he let out the sigh he had suppressed earlier. You really were… something. He couldn’t believe he had been suspicious of you earlier when you could barely even function properly, much less be any sort of threat. It was irritating, Jungkook felt, to have someone so incompetent for a wife. He wondered if he would have to break you out of that shell. You were the wife of a mafia leader now after all, you had to keep up at least some air of confidence in the presence of others so that you didn’t make him look weak. 

Jungkook walked over to the sink and turned it on, splashing some cold water on his face before he began brushing his teeth. You were far from his ideal type, and he doubted this marriage would ever stem into whatever Taehyung and Chaewon had going on. Hell, he was wondering how the two of you could ever even produce an heir. You’d probably spontaneously combust if he even tried to touch you. And besides, he didn’t really want to touch you if he was being honest. You reminded him too much of a weak and helpless child, which was obviously a huge turn off. He may have been a mafia leader, but he wasn’t a complete monster. 

Jungkook placed his toothbrush into the holder after spitting into the sink, drying himself off with one of the towels hanging near him. He was about to start changing into more comfortable clothes, only getting as far as unbuttoning the first few buttons of his black collar shirt, before a crashing sound rang from the bedroom. In less than a second he had pushed out of the bathroom, immediately scanning the bedroom before him as his hand automatically sought out the gun at his side. 

It took him a moment to realise the lack of intruders in the room, and then another to take in your completely unharmed form. You were standing with your hands covering your mouth, looking down at the ground. Jungkook followed your gaze to find the champagne bottle rolling along the marble floor, still entirely intact. You had clearly dropped the thing accidentally, causing Jungkook to place his gun back in his waistband.

“I’m s-so sorry,” you squeaked, bending down quickly to pick up the bottle. Suppressing a huff, Jungkook walked over to you to take it from your hands. 

“Here, let me do it,” he said, taking two of the crystal champagne flutes from the gift basket and placing them on the glass coffee table as he sat himself down on the couch, distantly annoyed at the fact that you couldn’t even pour a glass of champagne by yourself. Was this seriously what he was going to have to deal with from now on?

He tipped the bottle, filling both glasses to the brim with the bubbling liquid as you hesitantly sat yourself down on the couch to his left. His gaze fell on you as he was about to offer you one of the flutes, but paused when he noticed the look on your face. For the first time since he met you, you looked almost… excited. Usually your eyes would be downturned and focused on the floor, but this time they were fixed on the crystal glasses before you as if you were eager to taste the expensive liquid. Jungkook made a note of it, tucking it into the back of his mind for later. 

“Take one,” he said as he motioned towards one of the glasses, but to his surprise you hesitantly shook your head. Your expression had turned timid once again, any hint of excitement from earlier entirely gone. He narrowed his eyes at you as he wondered if he had just imagined it. It had barely been there anyway. 

“I don’t drink,” you said in your signature soft tone, not able to meet his gaze. Of course you don’t, Jungkook thought irritatedly, god forbid the princess touch a glass of champagne. He knew the thought was immature, but there was no way he was the most immature person in the room at the moment. 

He pushed himself off the couch, very much aware that his patience was starting to wear thin, “well then I guess we should call it a night.”

But before he could step towards the bed, your hand shot out, clutching the edge of his sleeve with your fingers. He immediately looked down at your still seated form, a question in his eyes. You had to look away for a moment, seemingly collecting your nerves, before you met his gaze once again. 

“Just because I don’t drink doesn’t mean you can’t,” you said, “I don’t want you not to enjoy yourself because of me. Please stay.”

Jungkook noticed the evident guilt in your eyes as your fingers continued to stay enclosed around the edge of his sleeve. When he didn’t move, you hesitantly leaned forward to gently pick up one of the glasses and then slowly presented it to him. His gaze shifted to the glass in your hand, pausing for only a moment, before he took it from you. He let himself sink back onto the couch as he studied you. 

You continued to sit in your spot on the sofa, posture still timid. Your gaze bounced from one part of the floor to the next, while your expression remained shy. But there was something else lurking behind the expression. If Jungkook focused well enough, he could have sworn the edges of your lips were turned slightly upwards. It was so faint that it might have not even been there, but the more he focused, the more prominent it became to him. 

A naive part of him might have thought it was from being successful in getting him to stay and have the drink, but the more logical part of him had already latched onto an idea, one that refused to be swept to the side any longer. 

His gaze lowered to your collarbone, a glint from the heart-shaped necklace resting over your soft skin catching his attention. Unlike earlier, he noticed that the metal heart was actually a locket, and that its two sides were slightly open. It couldn’t have been ajar by more than a millimetre, but Jungkook still noted it down in his mind.

His gaze then ascended to your face, still a perfect picture of innocence. Your eyes were widened to resemble a curious doe, while your lips were pulled into a timid line. The hands resting in your lap fumbled with each other shyly, really completing the look. 

Finally, his gaze dropped to the drink in his hand. He brought it closer to his face, as if he were about to take a sip, before eyeing the expensive liquid. His gaze fixed on the miniscule bubbles that continued travelled from the bottom of the flute to its surface, causing it to sizzle.

Jungkook slowly leaned forward, keeping his eye on his drink as he brought it away from his lips and instead calmly set it down on the coffee table before him. He then easily pushed himself off of the couch, which caused your brows to jump. There was an apparent question in your expression, one you decided to voice out loud. 

“Is something wrong with the drink?” You asked, voice still soft as your doe eyes looked up at him through your lashes. 

Ignoring the question, Jungkook placed a hand on the edge of the coffee table and slowly pushed it forward so that it was farther away from your seated form. The action caused you to blink. 

“Is everything okay?” You tried again slowly.

But Jungkook then faced you, assessing you for a moment, before he took a few steps in your direction. You had to crane your neck upwards to continue meeting his gaze, his tall form towering over your seated one. This time your brows pulled together, eyes still doe-like, as you continued to question his actions. 

“Jungko-”

Jungkook didn’t let you finish. The second you opened your mouth his large hand suddenly shot out and grabbed your neck, slamming your head into the seat of the couch. You squeaked at the sudden violence, immediately clawing at the fingers now enclosed around your throat. But your efforts were nothing in comparison to Jungkook’s iron hold. 

“J-Jungkook, you’re h-hurting me!” You let out a choked cry, continuing to put up a weak fight against Jungkook. Tears had already started to coat your eyes and run down your cheeks, but Jungkook ignored them completely. He watched you struggle, fascinated by the way you thrashed around like an animal yet every jab at him was weak and ineffective. There was no sign of the strength he had noticed when you had grabbed onto his bicep earlier, so hard that he was sure it would leave a bruise. It was enough to make him grin.

Jungkook lowered his face so that his lips neared your ear, his body still hovering over your smaller form. 

“If you wanted to kill me princess, you’ll have to do a better job than that,” he said, voice low. Your eyes widened even further as you continued to struggle against him, making pitiful noises that didn’t move him in the slightest. 

“K-Kill?! What are y-you talking about?!” You continued to choke out as tears streamed down your cheeks. Your hands had moved to his chest, desperately trying to push him away, yet failing miserably in the process. Jungkook tilted his head at your weak plea, eager to hear what other ways you’d beg him to let you go.

 “P-please-” You began, but then cut yourself off abruptly when your tear-filled gaze met his. You must have seen something in his eyes, because he felt your body slacken, no longer desperate to fight him despite his hold on your neck cutting off your lung’s supply of air. 

Instead you studied him, really studied him. He could see the same calculated look you had used on Taehyung earlier during the wedding. It was as if you were assessing Jungkook, picking out his strengths and weaknesses to figure out how you could use them to your advantage. He watched you weigh options in your head patiently before you finally tilted your head to the side calmly and shot him a look. In response, Jungkook decided to loosen his grip on your throat. He watched you catch your breath for a moment before you spoke. 

“Well, you’re already smarter than the first one,” you commented, but your voice was entirely different. It was no longer soft and timid, rather it was a lot more deep and confident. He watched your expression change in the same manner. Your once wide and innocent looking eyes narrowed into a more matured look, while your lips straightened into more of a dangerously amused grin than a naive pout. 

Then he processed your words. The ‘first one’ had to be your first husband, who Taehyung had explained had been killed on his wedding day. Taehyung had mentioned that a rival gang had been the one to murder him, but the actual one responsible for his death was clear to Jungkook now. 

“Do you make it a hobby to poison your husbands’ drinks on their wedding nights?” He asked, hand still wrapped around your throat. He had situated himself between your legs, his own leg pushing one of yours against the back of the couch while his free hand pushed the other down against the seat of the couch. The position ensured you wouldn’t be able to kick him, while his body hovering over your own seemed to take care of the rest of you. You were smart enough not to try anything anyway, knowing Jungkook’s strength was incomparable to yours.

You shrugged, panting at the limited oxygen entering your lungs, “golf just wasn’t cutting it for me anymore.”

“Golf? How can a weak and helpless girl like you play such a sport?” Jungkook couldn’t help but quip, bordering on mocking you. It only made you grin, clearly no hint of offence in your expression. 

He studied your nonchalant demeanour curiously. You had tried to kill him, and he should send your head back to your father’s doorstep for it. And yet, you couldn’t have looked any less composed with his hand around your neck. Either you were a complete idiot, which seemed much less likely now that he was starting to see your real character, or you believed you had the upper hand in this situation. 

“You’re quite calm for someone I should have killed,” he noted, meaning for it to be a threat. But once again you didn’t seem deterred. In fact, the comment seemed to amuse you even more. 

“Just because you should have me killed doesn’t mean you’ll actually have me killed.”

Jungkook’s brow raised, finding an opportunity to prod you further, “and why won’t I have you killed? Your father sent you here to kill me under the pretence of an alliance. I should start a war for this.”

You nodded, “but you see, my father did send me here to form an alliance. The whole killing you idea was all mine.”

Jungkook scoffed at the lame attempt at a lie, “you expect me to believe that?”

But you scoffed as well, meeting his gaze just as vehemently. It was an odd sight considering you had spent the entire day trying to make yourself small and avoiding his gaze. Yet here you were now, eyes ablaze like a thrashing fire. Not a spontaneously violent fire either, no Jungkook could very easily handle that. You were more like an electrical fire. It was becoming increasingly apparent that he had to be cautious around you, and that trusting any word that came out of your mouth was dangerous. 

“Prove it then,” he challenged, tightening his hold on your neck for a moment to remind you of your vulnerability. 

“I don’t need to prove anything,” you said, a hand coming up to wrap around his wrist, “just go ahead and mention to my father that I’m not a complete airhead that’s afraid of her own shadow. He’ll laugh in your face and call you a moron.”

The revelation that your father was just as clueless about your true self as everyone else only confirmed his initial thoughts. It also proved he couldn’t have trusted you to carry out an assassination attempt, meaning your father really did genuinely want an alliance with the Jeons. That was perfect, because Jungkook had certain plans that relied on this partnership. It was a relief that they hadn’t gone to waste.

“If it wasn’t your father’s idea, then why did you poison my drink?” He asked with a raised brow. 

Silence filled the room following his question, one that allowed you both to hear the sounds of the wall clock. He got the feeling that you were contemplating something once again, planning out your next move.

Then you squirmed underneath him, seemingly getting comfortable, but Jungkook knew better than to believe whatever you appeared as. The second your hand went for the gun wedged in his waistband, he grabbed your wrist, pining it against the couch, while the hand that had been around your throat pulled out the matte black weapon. He slowly brought it to your temple with an amused grin.

“If you wanted it so badly, you could have just asked,” he taunted, bringing the gun down so that its barrel lifted your chin, “now, I asked a question princess.”

You huffed, your amusement finally falling to give him a half-hearted glare.

“I want a divorce.”

Jungkook couldn’t help the laugh that sounded from his lips at your straightforwardness. You just tried to kill him, it didn’t take a genius to work out that you weren’t a fan of this marriage and wanted out of it. 

It was an arranged marriage after all, and even though all arranged marriages didn’t equal a forced marriage, technically he couldn’t be certain that this marriage was of your own choice or not. For all he knew, you had some secret lover waiting for you back home, your marriage with Jungkook coming between the star crossed romance. The thought made his jaw tick. He was far from in love with you, but Jungkook tended to be territorial about what was his. And you were his wife at the moment. 

You, on the other hand, seemed surprised by his reaction, as if it was the last thing you expected him to do.

“I mean you obviously want one now too, right?” You asked with your brows furrowed.

Jungkook didn’t respond, and that only seemed to make you more agitated.

“I’m not the wife that you want. You clearly can’t stand me when I have my ditzy front pulled up and you can’t trust me when I don’t.”

Although the points that you were making were true, there was one important factor you were missing, and that was the alliance between the Jeons and the Lees. Jungkook needed this alliance to, at the very least make himself seem like, he was more powerful than the Parks and the Mins. And with their recent moves -with what he saw at the docks just last night- he needed this alliance now more than ever. So while he normally would have had you executed and then sent your head to your father’s doorstep for your little assassination attempt, this time he was going to have to sweep his pride to the side.

Jungkook placed his free hand next to your head as he pushed himself up, choosing instead to stay standing in front of the sofa. His intense gaze dropped to your still form while his gun hung from his fingers firmly. 

“No,” he finally said, causing your brows to jump. 

You quickly pushed yourself off the couch to stand just as he was, but Jungkook didn’t move. With the sofa right behind you, barring you from taking a few steps back, that left you and him standing dangerously close to each other. The bow from your nightgown pressed against his partly unbuttoned black collar shirt, while its edge grazed his dress pants. Jungkook could feel the heat of your breath raise goosebumps from his exposed collarbone. 

“Why not? I’m not the wife that you want.”

He smiled at the bite in your words, finding your frustration amusing, “you’ve got it all wrong. I simply wanted a wife to make the Lees allies, nothing more.”

Like a fire set alight, your eyes flashed in anger, “I won’t change. I’ll still be your idiot wife that will make you look weak.”

It was true that most wives of mafia leaders were strong and confident beings, symbols of their husbands’ power, and that having a wife like you may be a slightly risky choice. But Jungkook was sure his carefully established reputation could take the hit. Besides, although you might make him look weak, your marriage with him would make him far from actually weak. 

“You think divorcing you won’t make me look weak?” Jungkook decided to say, unsure of if he was saying it to play with you more or to make sure you don’t believe your threats are inconveniencing him, “you’ve fooled everyone with your ditzy facade. A divorce will make them think I wasn’t able to tame a naive girl. You think people will accept me as a leader then?”

You didn’t react to the point, giving him the feeling that you might have already known that might pose an issue for him. Perhaps you thought his reputation could take the hit? When Jungkook really thought about it, it probably could have. He’d worked hard to be both feared and respected for years, a divorce like this, while questionable in the eyes of the people under him, could have been pushed under the rug given time. But the alliance was too important to him. 

And that was something he needed to make sure you knew. 

“That means you will continue to be my wife,” he settled, lowering his gaze so that it met yours with unwavering finality, “so you’ll continue to act like it.”

Jungkook felt his voice naturally lower, a hint of a threat evident in his tone, “listen to me well, Y/N. I don’t care if you act like the dumbest woman on Earth or the most sultry. Regardless, what you will act like is my wife. When we’re outside of this bedroom, we will laugh together, we will hug each other, and we will do whatever other damn thing married couples do so that no one doubts this relationship.”

“And if I don’t?” You bit, the speed of your reply making his jaw tick. 

“If you don’t, you can stay locked in this bedroom until you learn how to behave. Understood?”

Your rage couldn’t have been more prominent, with a fierce glare burning right through him and a pair of fisted hands at your sides. Yet Jungkook ignored it all, instead meeting your gaze coolly as he waited for your confirmation. 

It took a long moment to come, so long that Jungkook thought it wasn’t going to come at all. But eventually he noticed you nod your head. It was barely a movement, your head tipping down slightly before resuming its earlier place, but it was enough for him despite your unwavering glare. 

He finally took a few steps back, thrusting the barrel of his gun once again into the waistband of his pants. Your angry form, on the other hand, didn’t move, opting instead to stand perfectly still despite your calves pressing into the sofa behind you. Jungkook ran a hand through his hair, brushing the strands that had fallen onto his forehead away from his face.

“Good, then we’re done here.”

He finally turned away from you, eyeing the door on his left intently. But before he could move towards it, your words made him pause.

“I just tried to kill you,” you commented before he turned to question its randomness. He found you sitting on the sofa once again, an eerily thoughtful look lurking behind your rage-filled eyes, “how will you know I won’t do it again?”

Jungkook tilted his head in response. 

“You can try all you want, princess,” he said, liking the feeling of that nickname on his tongue more and more. It was almost addicting, “but you won’t succeed.”

Then his lips curled into a sly smirk, “after all, what kind of husband would I be if I barred my wife from her hobbies?”

He was able to just barely catch the roll of your eyes before he turned and pushed through the door he had been eyeing earlier, his hands automatically locking it behind him as he casually surveyed his office. The room had been spared from the new gleaming white and fawn furniture which had taken over his bedroom. Instead, it was filled with familiar dark brown.

Refined dark oak wood shelves and cabinets lined the walls except for the wall behind his large desk, which was made up entirely of a bookshelf filled to the brim with various hardcovers. For the sake of matching with the rest of the house, the marble floor had been done a light fawn colour, while another wall was made up of bulletproof glass, its centre having the ability to slide open to reveal a decent sized balcony. 

Jungkook shrugged off his blazer as he made his way to his desk, laying the piece of cloth over the back of his black leather chair, before he opened the glass cabinet behind it. He didn’t need to think much as his fingers expertly curled around an expensive bottle of whiskey and a crystal glass. Before he knew it, he found himself standing outside on his balcony overlooking his estate, one hand holding the crystal glass filled halfway with light brown liquid while the other clutched the iron railing. 

His gaze bounced around his estate for a peaceful moment as he took a sip from his glass, taking in the expanse of the luscious green field bordering the neatly done driveway despite the darkness of the night. In its centre was an intricately designed white fountain spewing water in four different directions, but all of which emptied systematically into the white basin at its base. The estate itself stretched for metres, the gates enclosing the space barely visible from where he was standing. Jungkook’s thoughts bounced around his head just as quickly as his gaze. 

What a day it had been. At first, you’d been a complete idiot, one that had irritated him to no extent with your doe eyes and evident shyness. 

But then you had turned out to be an entirely different species, far from the innocent and ditzy girl he’d labelled you as. You were cunning and feisty and seemingly very much ready for a divorce. 

Jungkook felt the corners of his lips pull upwards into a grin as he took another sip of his whisky.

You were quite the enigma.

But he was going to enjoy the challenge.  

A/N: comments, reblogs, and likes are appreciated!