#two years in design school and this is what I get
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hrrtshape · 23 hours ago
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insane, dream-like things that were normal in my better cr . . . in other words, what it was like being part of the 1%
i never carried cash : i didn’t need to. if i ever found myself in a situation where cash was required, idk, a farmer’s market or bribing someone, i’d just apple pay!?
i never waited for anything : reservations were booked months in advance. lines were always skipped. at clubs we just walked right in. theme parks? VIP passes only. i have never stood in a queue longer than 90 seconds in my life...or...in my better cr.
my closet was bigger than a new york apartment : and everything was colour-coded. yep. yep !!!
i never read price tags : not because i was being reckless, because i simply did not need to know. it was always fine.
if i wanted something, i got it : saw a dress in a magazine? had it by the next morning. craved a specific croissant from a bakery in paris? it was flown in. life had no delays.
luxury was so normal i had to actively remind myself it wasn’t : by the 13th day, i would have moments, small ones, where i’d be like, " wait, not everyone has their own perfume custom-blended by a french artisan? " and then i’d move on.
the ‘poor kid’ still had a trust fund. . . they just had less in it.
errands? what errands? dry cleaning, post office, buying toothpaste. these were not my problems.
skincare was medical : not just a ‘good moisturiser’ situation, i mean dermatologist-designed, prescription-only, lab-created serums. my facials involved lasers. my face was someone’s full-time job.
my mom had a florist on retainer : fresh-cut flowers appeared in my room like magic. i never asked for them. they just were.
celebrity run-ins were painfully normal : “oh yeah, we had dinner next to tilda swinton last night.” “who?” WHO?
we never parked our own cars : valet, always. i had a friend who didn’t even know how to use a parking metre.
there was no such thing as ‘saving up’. in those two weeks i never thought, “hmm, should i buy this now or wait till christmas when i get 50 euros from my grandma?” PFTTTTT.
everyone had a ‘family office’ : financial advisers, lawyers, accountants. my money was managed. someone in my school had three.
coffee orders were wildly specific : not ‘latte with oat milk’ specific. i mean custom-roasted beans, flown in from a single farm in costa rica, brewed at a precise temperature, delivered in a monogrammed cup.
doctors made house calls : i have not seen the inside of a waiting room. ever. feeling sick? someone arrived.
vacation homes weren’t a flex, they were a given : there’s the paris apartment (1st arrondissement, obviously), the villa in lake como, the chalet in gstaad. the only real estate question was, “are we summering in capri or st. barths?
your signature scent is impossible to buy : it’s either a discontinued hermès perfume from the ’70s that you miraculously still source, or a custom blend from a perfumer who only takes five clients a year.
flying commercial is a horror story, not an option : tsa? baggage claim? delays? these are foreign concepts. you had a netjets membership at the very least, but most likely, you have a family jet with an interior designed by someone who also did a yacht.
your tastebuds have standards : your daily coffee comes from a faema e61, your eggs are from a private farm, and your idea of a snack is burrata flown in from puglia that morning. did i mention my private school had michelin chefs?? yea.
you own art. like, real art : not prints. not posters. actual, museum-worthy pieces that are either inherited or sourced through galleries that don’t even have websites.
most people don’t know what anything costs : a gallon of milk? no idea. a metro ticket? couldn’t tell you. you swipe, tap, sign, and never check.
you don’t shop in stores like normal people : you go to private showrooms, have pieces sent to your home, or shop off-runway. waiting in line… horrendous.
i’ve had a ‘house account’ somewhere : a boutique, a jeweller, a tailor. places where you don’t pay on the spot, just ‘put it on the account’ and settle later.
i was taught how to eat properly : which fork for what course, how to use a butter knife, the correct way to hold a wine glass. it’s not something i learned. it’s something i absorbed from watching adults at endless dinners, benefits, and polo events.
i don’t remember learning how to ski or ride horses : because i was doing it before i was fully conscious. i have childhood photos in full equestrian gear, little skis strapped to my feet in gstaad or zermatt. it’s just something i always did.
an art education by osmosis : grew up hearing adults talk about rothko, basquiat, and duchamp in casual conversation. dragged to the louvre and the tate before i could even read. instinctively know the difference between an original and a print.
i have a family lawyer on retainer : and not because i ever committed a crime. they exist to handle things. NDAs, reputation management, keeping your name out of the papers. they know where the bodies are buried, metaphorically (or not).
most families’ wealth is so old and so layered in offshore accounts that even they don’t fully understand it : trust funds? sure, but also shell companies in the caymans, art holdings in geneva, real estate portfolios under LLCs. money isn’t in banks. it’s spread across continents.
most parents’ have had affairs with each other for decades, and it’s not even a scandal anymore : it’s just part of the ecosystem. marriages aren’t about love, they’re alliances. the wives turn a blind eye, the husbands keep it discreet, and the real betrayal is talking about it.
i’ve been name-dropped in a deposition : it was a divorce case. i was never involved, but my name was adjacent to power, so it got dragged in. the case was settled out of court, of course.
most families has multiple passports : not for fun, not for aesthetics. because sometimes you need an exit strategy. a villa in capri, a château in france, a penthouse in dubai. doors are always open, should you ever need to disappear.
i’ve seen actual generational feuds play out in real time : my parents have enemies. their parents had enemies. the grudges go back decades, and nobody even remembers what started it.
i grew up around people who have gotten away with actual crimes : white-collar, mostly. insider trading, fraud, tax evasion. but sometimes things darker. people go to rehab, people “retire early,” people take extended trips to monaco until things cool down.
i’ve seen billionaires (and their kids) break down over the pettiest things : a bad seat at a gala, a misplaced monogram on their jet, a slight from someone whose family has less money than theirs. the richer they are, the more fragile they get.
my family has a pr strategy : this is largely because my mom is a ceo of a billion dollar company. and everything is managed. what photos are released, what stories are planted, which journalists are “friendly.” nothing is random.
i know that philanthropy is often just money laundering with better optics : charities set up for tax reasons, “foundations” that quietly funnel wealth back into the family, billionaire donations that conveniently coincide with favourable legislation.
i’ve seen people lose their fortunes overnight : one wrong deal, one lawsuit, one scandal that sticks, and suddenly, the private jets are getting repossessed. the real old money…they watch from a distance. they never risk everything.
i know that some billionaires don’t actually have liquid cash : they’re over-leveraged, playing financial gymnastics with their own net worth. yachts, art, mansions. but the second they need actual money? suddenly, things get complicated. this is why everyone in my school donated possessions instead of actual money.
met people who don’t own their clothes : couture is loaned, jewellery is borrowed, yachts are rented to themselves through shell companies. it’s all about optics. they don’t need to own when they can access.
heard rich kids joke about things that would make normal people physically ill : laughing about tax evasion, casually mentioning private rehabs like summer camp, making bets on stocks that could ruin lives.
met billionaires who are bored of being rich : the thrill is gone. the yachts, the jets, the parties. it’s routine. they start chasing danger. high-stakes gambling, extreme sports, secret societies. anything to feel something.
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fairestwriting · 2 days ago
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title: next time you’re free
ೀ pairing: vil x gn!reader
ೀ summary: With the end of the school year approaching, you begin to reconsider whether you’ve truly been living up to your role as Ramshackle’s dorm leader, eventually deciding your future juniors deserved better than a broken down mess of a dorm— And while fitting the renovations into your already packed schedule wouldn’t be easy, you’re sure you could manage, you’d just have to try a little harder…
ೀ word count: 4,364
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⋆˙⟡♡ commissioned by a really sweet person who wanted to stay anonymous! i’m still really honored to be the first person you buy from TvT thank you so much for the support!
⋆. 𐙚 ˚ if you’re interested in my commissions you can read my guidelines here ! ⊹ ࣪ ˖
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Setting down the stack of notes in your hands, you lean back on the couch of the Ramshackle common room. That really took a lot more writing than I thought, you think, slight aches poking at your wrists and neck — The couch is old and kind of saggy, not providing much support to your body, but you welcome the feeling anyway. Besides, you think, we should be getting a better one very soon...
“Grim?” You tentatively raise your voice to call for him, looking towards the hallway his room was located in. “Are you still up?”
You wait one, two, three seconds. Then more, eventually losing count.
“I guess not…”
Murmuring to yourself, you let out a sigh. Well, it’s not like he would have helped much, but…
Your mind wanders as you glance to the side, at the big window on the wall showing the pitch black of the night, then at the ceiling. One of the lights flicker a little bit, struggling to fight against the sheer weight of the night, you notice. It blurs on the corners that are farther away from it. You hadn’t noticed that earlier today—
Frowning, you take your planner back from the coffee table.
You take that extra note, fitting it at the bottom of a page. When you close it, swallowing your growing unease, it snaps shut neatly, making a satisfying click noise. The royal purple cover stands out among the muted colors of your dorm.
You take the moment to just stare at it. So fancy, you think as your fingertip runs over the firm cover, feeling the texture of the metallic arabesque designs on the corners. It’s essentially just a notebook like any other, and yet...
Well, it couldn’t really be a notebook like any other. It was a gift, first of all.
It’s only been a few days since you started using it, receiving it directly from Vil after a meeting with all the dorm leaders — The meetings always left you feeling restless, like you should be doing more than you actually are. But this specific time, the determination you got was way stronger. Special, really...
You’re not even sure if you could consider him a friend, you never guessed he thought of you at all— You two did speak semi often, since you’d visit his club to help out every once in a while, but besides that, not much. So, to think he would be the one person to take interest when you brought up Ramshackle needing renovations…
It’s not like you had ever been a slacker in the first place, but you weren’t really keeping up with everyone else either. You helped out with many clubs, you were very involved as a student, but as the year came close to ending, you started to feel the weight of your role as a dorm leader, too.
Fixing the dorm was the bare minimum. Your possible future juniors deserved more than just that— And now you knew, too, that you weren’t the only one who believed this, either. You’ve heard it from Epel, you knew what catching Vil’s eye meant… more or less.
╰┈➤ you can read the rest on ao3 here!
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mintyys-blog · 1 day ago
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BRAT TAMER— dark! bucky barnes x brat! stark! reader
WARNINGS: alcohol, suggestive scenes, age gap, power imbalance, brat behaviour, dark themes, tramp stamp, harassment, swearing, SMUT.
MINORS DNI
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You knew exactly what you were doing.
The moment you stepped into the Avengers Tower, heels clicking against the pristine marble floors, every pair of eyes flicked to you. Not that you cared. In fact, you reveled in it. The attention. The annoyance. The way your father, Tony Stark, ran a hand down his face the second he saw your outfit—if it could even be called that.
A tiny crop top, barely-there shorts, and heels that made your legs look like they went on forever.
“Jesus Christ,” Tony muttered under his breath.
You smirked, flicking your hair over your shoulder as you waltzed past him like you owned the place. “Daddy, that’s not a very warm welcome,” you pouted. “I thought you’d be happy to see me.”
Tony exhaled sharply, rubbing his temples. “Do you ever dress appropriately? Just once?”
You scoffed. “What’s the fun in that?”
Truthfully, you liked pushing his buttons. You’d been doing it for years, and it never got old. Tony Stark, billionaire genius, could handle aliens, mad scientists, and world-ending threats—but his own daughter? A nightmare in designer heels.
“Where’s Morgan?” you asked, though you didn’t really care.
“In her room. And don’t—”
Too late. You were already walking in that direction.
Tony sighed, shooting a look at Steve and Bucky, who had been watching the interaction silently. “I don’t know what to do with her.”
Bucky’s stare lingered as you disappeared down the hallway. You had that effect on people—especially men. And you knew it.
Morgan adored you.
Which was the problem.
She was ten, all wide eyes and admiration, soaking up every little thing you did like a sponge. And Tony? He hated it.
You sat on her bed, lazily scrolling through your phone as she rattled on about school, her friends, some dumb science project Tony was helping her with. You weren’t really listening.
“Can I do my hair like yours?” Morgan asked suddenly, eyes shining with hope.
You smirked. “You wanna be like me, huh?”
She nodded enthusiastically.
Tony’s voice cut through the room like a blade. “No, she doesn’t.”
You looked up to find him standing in the doorway, arms crossed. “Morgan, go get ready for dinner,” he said firmly.
Morgan hesitated, looking between the two of you before reluctantly nodding and slipping out of the room.
You raised an eyebrow. “Really? That’s the influence you don’t want?”
Tony stepped inside, lowering his voice. “I mean it, Y/N. She looks up to you. I won’t let you screw her up.”
You rolled your eyes. “Relax, Dad. I’m not telling her to go rob a bank.”
“No, but you are showing up dressed like that,” he shot back. “Parading around like you have no responsibilities, blowing through money like it’s endless—”
“Isn’t it?” you cut in, smirking.
Tony pinched the bridge of his nose. “Jesus, kid. I don’t know what to do with you.”
“Nothing,” you said simply, standing up and stretching, the hem of your top riding up just to be provocative. “Because I don’t live under your roof anymore, remember?”
You walked past him, brushing against his shoulder as you left.
And just like that, you were gone.
Later that night, Bucky found you at the bar.
You were perched on a stool, sipping a martini, legs crossed, eyes scanning the room like a predator looking for prey.
He slid onto the stool beside you, silent at first. You noticed him, of course. How could you not? He was hard to ignore—tall, broad, that metal arm glinting under the dim lights.
“Well, well,” you mused, tilting your head. “Didn’t take you for a bar kind of guy.”
Bucky shrugged, eyes flickering over your outfit. “Didn’t take you for the kind of girl who needs attention to survive.”
You grinned. “Oh, but I do. What’s life without a little fun?”
“Fun,” Bucky repeated, tone unreadable. “That what you’re looking for?”
You leaned in slightly, resting your elbow on the bar, chin propped in your hand. “Depends. You offering?”
His jaw tensed. You were pushing. Flirting. Teasing. And you knew it was working.
“You think this is a game?” he asked, voice low.
You smirked. “Isn’t it?”
Bucky exhaled through his nose, shaking his head slightly. “Careful, sweetheart.”
You arched a brow. “Or what?”
He didn’t answer. Just took a sip of his drink, eyes lingering on you.
Breaking the Brat
Part Two
Pairing: Dark!Bucky Barnes x Stark!Brat!Reader
Warnings: Dark themes, age gap, manipulation, power imbalance, bratty behavior, suggestive themes. Slow burn.
Bucky didn’t play your game.
That was the first thing that set him apart from the others.
Most men—especially the older ones—were predictable. Easy to manipulate. A bat of your lashes, a sultry smile, a teasing touch, and they’d trip over themselves to get what you wanted.
But Bucky? He saw right through it.
And that? That made you want to play even more.
“Not much of a talker, huh?” You leaned in, close enough that your perfume lingered between you. “That’s okay. I like a challenge.”
Bucky glanced at you, unimpressed. “You really think you’re a challenge?”
You pouted. “Aw, that’s cute. You think I’m easy?”
He huffed out a quiet laugh. “I think you’re loud. And desperate for attention.”
Your smirk didn’t falter. “And yet, here you are, giving it to me.”
Bucky didn’t answer. He just took another sip of his drink, jaw tight.
That’s what intrigued you the most.
He wanted to say something. Wanted to snap, to put you in your place. You could see it in his eyes. The restraint. The discipline. It was a game of tug-of-war, and you were determined to win.
“So, tell me,” you mused, twirling the olive in your martini between your fingers. “What does a guy like you do for fun?”
Bucky didn’t blink. “Nothing you’d survive.”
A thrill shot through you.
“You don’t know what I can handle,” you said, licking the martini off your lips.
His gaze flickered there, just for a second. A small victory.
Then, he downed the rest of his drink and stood.
“Go home, kid.”
Kid.
The word sent a rush of irritation through you.
You weren’t a kid. You were a woman. A woman who could make grown men fall at her feet. A woman who could ruin a man if she wanted to.
And yet, Bucky Barnes just brushed you off like an inconvenience.
How dare he?
You watched him walk away, the muscles in his back flexing under his shirt. He didn’t turn around. Didn’t give you the satisfaction.
For the first time in a long time, you felt something foreign settle in your chest.
Frustration.
The next few weeks were fun.
For you, anyway.
You pushed. Bucky ignored. You flirted. He scoffed. You touched, teased, invaded his space—nothing.
He was a wall. Unshakable. Unmoved.
It only made you worse.
You made sure to wear the shortest skirts when you knew he was around. The highest heels. The tightest tops. You batted your lashes, brushed your fingers against his arm, pressed close to whisper things that weren’t exactly appropriate.
Still, nothing.
But you weren’t an amateur at this game.
Men had limits. And you were going to find his.
Tony had given up on you. Or at least, that’s what it felt like.
“Y/N, I swear to God,” he groaned, rubbing his temples as you scrolled through your phone.
“What now?” You didn’t bother looking up.
“You know exactly what. Do I need to spell it out? The credit card charges. The tabloids. The—” He exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face. “The fucking tramp stamp!”
You smirked, tilting your head. “You like it?”
Tony clenched his jaw. “You got it two hours after I told you not to.”
“Your point?”
He muttered something under his breath before shaking his head. “I don’t know what to do with you, kid.”
Your smirk faltered. There it was again. Kid. First Bucky, now Tony. You weren’t a child.
And you were going to prove it.
That night, you went too far.
And that’s exactly what you wanted.
The compound was quiet. Late. Most of the team had turned in for the night, but you knew Bucky was still awake.
You found him in the gym. Alone.
He was mid-rep, lifting weights that made your arms ache just looking at them.
You leaned against the doorway, watching, a slow smirk tugging at your lips.
“Wow,” you drawled. “Those arms could do some damage.”
Bucky didn’t stop. Didn’t acknowledge you.
You stepped inside, the sound of your heels clicking against the floor.
Nothing.
You let out a dramatic sigh, strutting over to where he stood. “Ignoring me again? Starting to think you don’t like me, Barnes.”
He finished his set, setting the weights down with a quiet thud.
Still, he didn’t look at you.
You stepped closer, trailing a manicured nail down his metal arm. “I bet you could wrap this around my throat and snap it like a twig.”
That got him. Bucky’s head snapped toward you, eyes dark.
Oh, that was satisfying.
“You wanna test that theory?” His voice was low. Dangerous. A shiver ran through you. You weren’t stupid. You knew when you were poking a bear. But that was half the fun.
“I dunno,” you mused, pressing closer. “Might be fun.”
Bucky exhaled slowly. You could practically see him forcing himself to relax.
Then, he turned and walked away. Just like that. No reaction. No anger. No fire.
It was… disappointing. Until he spoke.
“You should be careful, Y/N.” You frowned. “Of what?”
Bucky stopped at the door, back still to you. “Of what happens when I finally stop holding back.” Then, he was gone.
You stood there for a long moment, staring after him. And for the first time, your smirk faded. Because for the first time, you wondered… Had you finally pushed too far?
It had been a week since Bucky’s warning. A week of silence.
You were used to attention—hell, you craved it—but this was different. The absence of Bucky’s usual snarky responses, his cold stares, his barely-contained tension—it was unsettling. You found yourself looking for him more than you cared to admit. You’d cornered Tony about it. “Where’s Bucky? He’s been MIA.”
Tony didn’t even look up from his work. “I don’t know. Probably avoiding you.”
“Really?” you asked, leaning against the counter. “You think so?”
Tony finally glanced up, his eyes tired but sharp. “Look, kid. I get it. He’s a good guy, but I’m not letting you run around playing your little games with him. Bucky’s not your usual prey.”
You scowled, crossing your arms. “I’m not a damn animal, Dad.” Tony didn’t flinch. “You sure about that?”
Two nights later, you decided to take matters into your own hands.
The Tower was dark, quiet—everyone else was either gone or asleep. You knew Bucky would be up, alone, in the gym. He was predictable like that.
You stood in front of your mirror, inspecting yourself.
A tight black leather jacket, a low-cut tank top that barely covered your chest, and black ripped jeans. Nothing too out there, but enough to make a statement.
Perfect.
You made your way down the long hallway, heels tapping softly on the floors, feeling the familiar rush of power as you approached the gym.
And there he was.
Bucky was lifting weights, his movements precise and fluid, his concentration unwavering. He hadn’t noticed you yet, so you took the chance to observe.
He was different tonight. His body was tense, his jaw set as he worked through each set like a machine. But it was more than that. There was something in his eyes—something predatory.
And it made you want to push him.
You sauntered into the room, your presence noticeable, but Bucky didn’t look up. He kept going, each lift smoother than the last, each breath steady and controlled.
It was like you weren’t even there.
You didn’t like that.
“Why so serious?” you purred, stepping closer, your voice dripping with a flirtation you didn’t bother to hide.
Bucky paused for a moment, finally glancing at you. But he didn’t respond.
You took it as a challenge.
“You know,” you continued, sliding your hands down your sides provocatively, “if you need some motivation, I could give you a reason to work a little harder.”
Bucky didn’t move. He just stared at you, his gaze unreadable.
“Come on, Barnes,” you cooed, moving closer, your breath warm against the cool air of the gym. “What’s it going to take to get a rise out of you?”
This time, he spoke. His voice was low and measured, like a warning. “You’re treading on thin ice, Y/N.”
You smirked. “I like the danger.”
Bucky finally set the weights down, his movements slow but purposeful. He stepped toward you, his eyes dark with something you couldn’t quite place—anger? Frustration? Or something more?
“Last warning, kid,” he muttered, grabbing your wrist before you could react, his grip firm but controlled.
You didn’t pull away. Instead, you leaned in closer, your lips brushing the shell of his ear. “What are you going to do if I don’t listen, huh? Hit me?”
He didn’t answer right away. His breathing was steady, but you could feel the tension in his body. It was palpable, like a string pulled tight, waiting to snap.
“I warned you,” Bucky growled, voice gravelly.
Before you could respond, he spun you around, pinning you against the wall with a force that made your breath catch.
And there it was—the raw, unfiltered power.
You knew you were pushing him, but this time, you didn’t care.
“You’re playing with fire, Y/N,” he said, his voice soft, but laced with a dangerous edge. “And I don’t think you fully understand the consequences.”
You couldn’t help yourself. “Try me.”
Bucky leaned in close, his lips brushing your ear as he whispered, “You won’t like the outcome.”
But you weren’t listening. You never were.
You let your fingers trail down his chest, teasing the edges of his shirt, pressing yourself closer to him. “You can’t tell me what to do,” you said softly, letting the challenge hang between you like a spark waiting to ignite.
His hand tightened on your wrist, pulling you away from the wall and turning you to face him fully. His blue eyes were dark, unreadable, like an ocean storm waiting to break.
“You think I’m just going to let you walk all over me?” His voice dropped an octave, as if he were tasting every word. “That’s where you’re wrong, Y/N.”
You swallowed, feeling the heat rising between you, the crackling tension unmistakable. For the first time, you saw something in his eyes that made your heart skip—a flicker of something dangerous. And it made you want more.
“You think you can handle me?” you whispered, your lips inches from his. Without warning, Bucky kissed you.
It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t soft. It was fierce—passionate, like he was claiming what was his. And you didn’t pull away. You couldn’t.
He pulled back just enough to catch his breath, but the fire in his gaze only intensified. “You have no idea what you’re asking for,” he warned, his voice dark with intent.
You stared at him, a smile tugging at your lips. “Maybe I do.”
Bucky’s lips twitched. “You’re playing with fire, sweetheart. And when you get burned, don’t come crying to me.” You shrugged, unfazed. “I’ll take my chances.”
The next morning, you barely slept.
Every time you closed your eyes, all you could see was Bucky’s cold, intense stare—the way his hand had felt on your wrist, the heat of his lips against yours.
It wasn’t the first time you’d kissed someone with that much force, but it was the first time you felt… controlled.
And you hated it.
You didn’t like being controlled. You liked to be in charge. Always.
So why did the feeling linger? Why did the thought of Bucky’s hands on you—firm, unrelenting—cause a flutter in your chest?
You shook the thought away, brushing your hair back as you stood in front of the mirror. It was just a kiss. Just a moment. You didn’t need to make it anything more.
You picked out an outfit: a tight red dress with a plunging neckline, heels high enough to make your legs look longer than they were. You liked the way the dress clung to your curves, the way it accentuated everything Bucky had noticed last night.
This was a power play. A challenge. And Bucky? He was your target. You stormed out of your room, determined to confront him.
The gym was quiet again when you entered, the hum of the equipment filling the silence. You saw Bucky, of course. He was always here, always training, always keeping to himself. But today, he didn’t look at you when you walked in.
Not at first.
You could feel the tension radiating off him, though. He could feel you, even without looking. The game hadn’t ended last night—it had only just begun.
You walked toward him, a calculated sway in your hips. You made sure to stop just behind him, letting the scent of your perfume reach his nose, just close enough that he couldn’t ignore your presence any longer.
“Morning, Bucky,” you said, leaning over slightly, letting the fabric of your dress stretch just enough to make him notice.
He stopped mid-set, his fingers wrapping around the barbell before he set it down. Slowly, deliberately, he turned to face you. His gaze was icy, but there was something more there now—a flicker of something darker. Something that told you he wasn’t as indifferent as he wanted to be.
“What do you want?” His voice was low, but there was an edge to it.
You grinned, stepping closer. “I thought we could talk.”
Bucky crossed his arms over his chest, raising an eyebrow. “About what?”
You smirked, leaning in a little closer, lowering your voice to a whisper. “About last night.”
His jaw clenched. “I told you, Y/N—”
“You told me a lot of things.” You interrupted, placing a hand on his chest, feeling the hard muscle beneath the fabric of his shirt. “But you didn’t tell me you’d be so rough. So… possessive.”
He grabbed your wrist before you could pull away, his grip firm but not painful. “You’re pushing it,” he warned, his tone deadly serious now.
“Am I?” You tilted your head, pretending to be innocent, but you saw the way his eyes flashed, the tension in his body that told you he was on the edge. “I think you like it, Bucky. I think you like the challenge.”
Bucky took a deep breath, his hold on your wrist tightening slightly. He didn’t let go, not yet. “Don’t make me do something you’ll regret.”
A small laugh escaped your lips. “Oh, Bucky,” you teased, tracing your fingers down his chest slowly, “I don’t think I’m going to regret anything.”
This time, when you looked up at him, there was no teasing in your gaze. There was only a challenge. A dare.
Bucky looked at you for a long moment, his chest rising and falling with each breath, like he was trying to calm himself. Then, slowly, he released your wrist.
“You’re playing a dangerous game,” he muttered. “And I don’t think you realize just how dangerous it is.”
You stepped back, keeping your eyes on him. “I can handle danger.”
Bucky stared at you, and for a brief moment, something flickered in his eyes—something dark, something possessive, something that made your heart race.
But then it was gone, replaced by the cold mask he usually wore.
“Keep pushing, Y/N,” he said, his voice low, his tone deadly serious. “And I’ll make sure you regret it.”
You smiled sweetly, tilting your head. “I’m counting on it.”
The next few days were a blur.
Bucky was everywhere you went. He was there when you went to the gym, there when you walked past the training room, there when you entered the kitchen. He wasn’t exactly following you, but he was always within your sight. Always within your reach.
And it drove you crazy.
You didn’t get what it was. You didn’t get why he was always near, always present. He wasn’t ignoring you anymore, but he wasn’t giving you the satisfaction either. He was… patient.
And that was something you weren’t used to.
You tried everything. You wore the sexiest outfits. You made flirtatious comments. You pushed every button you knew would make him snap.
But Bucky just watched you. Always watchful. Always calm.
The lack of reaction was maddening.
But it was that last night—when you were so tired of being ignored—that you decided to confront him. You were done waiting.
The Tower was empty again, except for you and Bucky. You knew he’d be in the gym again—he always was.
When you walked in, you didn’t say a word. You just walked up to him, grabbed his collar, and kissed him.
It was desperate. It was messy.
It was exactly what you wanted.
Bucky froze for a moment, not expecting it, but when he didn’t pull away, when he kissed you back with an intensity that sent shockwaves through your body, you realized—maybe this time, you weren’t the one in control.
Bucky’s hands gripped your arms, but he didn’t pull you away. Instead, he deepened the kiss, his lips moving with more force than you were used to, his hands now roaming, pulling you closer.
When he pulled away, his eyes were dark, and his voice was low, husky. “I warned you, Y/N.”
You smirked, feeling a rush of power. “Yeah, well, I don’t listen.”
Bucky’s lips twitched into a small smile, but there was no humor in it. “You will. Eventually.”
Breaking the Brat
Part Six
Pairing: Dark!Bucky Barnes x Stark!Brat!Reader
Warnings: Dark themes, age gap, manipulation, power imbalance, bratty behavior, suggestive themes. Slow burn.
The days following that night felt like a tightrope walk—one wrong move, and you would fall. But there was something intoxicating about it. Bucky had made it clear he was done tolerating your behavior, but the power dynamic between you both had shifted. There was no going back, and you weren’t sure if you wanted to.
Bucky didn’t let things slide, though. You could feel his presence everywhere you went, like a constant reminder of your recklessness. His eyes followed you. The way he looked at you, all sharp edges and unspoken threats, had you on edge in ways you never imagined.
The next time you saw him, you weren’t sure how things would play out. It was a casual party at Tony’s mansion, the kind of event that usually left you feeling invincible. But tonight, something was different. Bucky had been quieter than usual, lurking in the background, watching you as you flitted from one person to another. You could feel his gaze, like a weight on your back. But you weren’t going to let it bother you. You were untouchable, weren’t you?
The music was loud, the room filled with the usual mix of celebrities, billionaires, and socialites. You could already feel your heels digging into the floor as you made your way to the bar, a playful smirk on your lips. You weren’t about to let Bucky’s behavior dictate how you had fun.
But, of course, Bucky was there. Watching. Always watching.
You noticed him in the corner, his posture stiff, his jaw clenched. He was talking to Steve, but his eyes never left you. Every move you made, every glance you cast, every word you said, seemed to send a ripple through him. It was driving you crazy, the way he had this hold on you. You could feel the tension between you both, building like a slow burn.
And then, just like before, you saw him. The older man, tall, graying hair, expensive suit. He was alone at the bar. Perfect.
You walked over, letting the sway of your hips catch his attention. He looked up, eyes widening as they took you in.
“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” he said, his voice smooth, a hint of admiration behind it.
You leaned against the bar, giving him a sly smile. “Just looking for someone to have some fun with. You seem like you might be a good candidate.”
He chuckled, his fingers brushing the rim of his glass as he studied you. “I think I could be persuaded.”
The instant his hand landed on your waist, you knew you had him. He was eating out of your palm, just like you wanted. But then you caught Bucky’s stare from across the room. He was rigid now, his eyes narrowed, his face tense with something that could have been fury—or something worse.
You felt a thrill rush through you.
You led the older man to the couch in the corner, barely glancing back at Bucky. You wanted him to feel it. The jealousy, the frustration, the helplessness. You wanted him to see you as something untouchable, something out of his control.
But before the man could do anything more than adjust his tie, Bucky appeared in front of you, his cold gaze fixed on the older man for a split second before he turned back to you. His voice was sharp, barely contained. “I think it’s time for you to leave.”
You looked up at him, your lips curling into an innocent smile, though you could tell from the vein popping in his neck that he wasn’t playing anymore. “I’m not done here yet,” you said, but there was no mistaking the challenge in your tone.
Bucky’s hand shot out, gripping your wrist with enough force to make you gasp. “You don’t get to make that decision.” He jerked you to your feet, dragging you past the man who was still trying to process the sudden intervention.
“Bucky—”
“You think you can flirt your way into whatever you want, don’t you?” His voice was low, each word like a warning. “You think this game is funny, but you’re out of your depth.”
You pulled your wrist from his grip, but the way he was looking at you made you feel cornered, trapped in a way that only fueled your defiance. “Maybe I just like making you mad,” you shot back, not even trying to hide the challenge in your voice.
“Is that it? You get off on making me angry?” His eyes darkened, the tension between you both thickening with each passing second.
You tilted your head, the playful edge in your voice never wavering. “Maybe I do.”
For a brief moment, the two of you just stood there, the silence crackling like a live wire. You could feel the pulse in your throat, the heat building between you both, thick and heavy. But just as quickly, Bucky’s expression shifted.
He grabbed your arm again, this time not in anger, but with a calculated force. He was done with the game.
Without a word, he dragged you to a private room, locking the door behind you. The silence inside felt suffocating, and you could feel the weight of his presence, pressing in on all sides.
“What the hell were you thinking?” His voice was harsh, the words coming out through gritted teeth. You leaned against the wall, your arms crossed, still maintaining your playful attitude.
“What? He was just a little older than usual. What’s the harm in flirting with someone who can buy me anything I want?” Bucky’s eyes burned with frustration as he took a step closer, crowding you against the wall.
“The harm is that you’re reckless. That man was old enough to be your father. What the hell are you trying to prove?” You could feel the heat radiating off of him, the tension between you both crackling like electricity. But you weren’t scared—not even a little.
“Are you mad that I wasn’t flirting with you?” You raised an eyebrow, feeling the rush of satisfaction return. You took a step forward, closing the distance between you, and kissed his jaw softly, just enough to leave your lips tingling with the sensation of his skin. Bucky stiffened at the contact, his expression flickering for a moment before his jaw clenched.
“This isn’t a game, Y/N,” he growled. “You think you can toy with me like that? I don’t give a damn about who you’re flirting with, but don’t be reckless.” You smirked, stepping back slightly, letting your fingers trace the collar of his shirt. “So what, you’re going to punish me for having a little fun? You don’t get to control me, Bucky.”
You were too close to him now, too close to that dangerous edge. The way he was looking at you… it was like a warning. You could feel the tension in his body, in the way his hands gripped your wrists like he was trying to anchor himself.
“You’ve made your point, Y/N,” he said, his voice dangerously calm. “But you’re not going to keep doing this. Not while I’m around.”
You crossed your arms, leaning against the wall with that same cocky smirk. “And what exactly are you going to do about it?”
Bucky stepped closer, his eyes never leaving yours. “You have no idea what you’re messing with.” His voice was tight, every word soaked with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. “You think you can keep pushing me? Keep playing games with me? I’m not like the other men you’ve been with.”
You laughed, though there was a nervous tremor behind it. “Oh, I know. You’re different. You’re better.”
His lips curled into a dark smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Better doesn’t mean I’ll tolerate you for much longer.”
And in that moment, something inside you snapped. You pushed off the wall, your hand reaching out to tug at his shirt. “Then make me stop, Bucky,” you whispered, your breath catching in your throat.
For a moment, he seemed to hesitate. Then, with a low growl, his lips crashed against yours. It was harsh, unrelenting. His grip on your arms was firm, his body pressing you against the wall as if he were determined to break you.
And, in a way, he was.
Bucky’s grip didn’t loosen. If anything, it tightened. His metal fingers brushed your jaw, cold against your heated skin, a stark contrast to the fire burning between you. His touch wasn’t soft—it was controlling, deliberate.
You should have been scared.
You weren’t.
Instead, you smirked up at him, eyes glittering with mischief, waiting to see how far you could push him. “You gonna lecture me all night, old man, or are you just mad I got someone else’s attention?”
Bucky’s jaw ticked. His thumb traced your lower lip again, slower this time, like he was testing something—testing you. “That what you wanted? To make me jealous?”
You shrugged, feigning nonchalance, even as your pulse betrayed you, hammering against your ribs. “Seemed like it worked.”
Bucky exhaled sharply, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe you. His grip on your chin suddenly dropped, only for his hands to find your hips instead. Without warning, he spun you around, pressing your front against the wall. The cold surface met your palms, your breath hitching as he leaned in close, his chest flush against your back.
“You have no idea what you’re playing with, princess,” he murmured against your ear, his voice dangerously low. “You think this is a game? Flirting with men like that, just to get a rise out of me?”
You swallowed hard, though you kept up the act, arching your back slightly, pressing yourself against him just to see how far you could push him. “You make it too easy, Sarge.”
Bucky let out a dark chuckle, but there was no humor in it. His metal hand gripped your waist, fingers pressing into your skin like he was reminding you of the difference between the two of you. “You think you’re untouchable ‘cause you’re a Stark? That daddy’s money keeps you safe?”
You turned your head slightly, your cheek brushing the wall, a defiant glint in your eyes. “So what? You gonna teach me a lesson?”
Bucky’s hand slid lower, gripping your thigh just beneath the hem of your dress. His fingers squeezed, just enough to make your breath catch. “Someone has to,” he muttered, his breath hot against your ear.
The tension crackled between you like a live wire, thick with something neither of you wanted to name. His fingers flexed against your skin, as if he was holding himself back, teetering on the edge of something dangerous.
Then, just as suddenly as he had pressed you against the wall, he pulled back.
You spun around, eyes blazing, chest rising and falling with rapid breaths. “That’s it?” you taunted, tilting your head. “All that talk, and you’re just gonna walk away?”
Bucky stared at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, in a voice quieter than before, but twice as dangerous, he said, “who said I was walking away?” The door clicked, signalling it being locked. His dark eyes found yours once more, he closed the space between you both.
His hands were gripping your body, and you pressed your chest into his. Your tongues intertwined and grinding your body against his. Your arms wrapped around his neck, he picks you up and sets you on the table, hiking up your dress to your waist. He pauses, “no panties? Naughty girl..” you squeaked when his cold metal fingers dipped inside your warm wet walls.
You gasped his name, as he pumped his fingers continuously. He added another finger, you whined at the stretch “Buck— its s’much”
“Shut up and take it, you were so desperate before now you crumble at my fingers?” He asked mockingly. He sucked on your neck, he didn’t care for being gentle, you didn’t deserve it— and you didn’t want it. You like the roughness, the control he had over you. You squeezed down on his fingers, your body twitching. “You gonna cum doll?” You moaned, “yes”
Right when you were about to he pulled out, staring down at you with a cold look. “Bad girls don’t get to cum. If you want to— beg me.”
Your eyes widened, really? He was making you bed for it? As if!
He resumed pumping his fingers, his other hand wrapped around your throat tightly— not enough to block air restriction. You would feel the knot in your stomach tighten, and right when you were about to cum again— he pulled out. You whined, “bucky..!”
“Beg or you don’t get to cum.”
You glared, not believing him. Until he did it again, and again. He was edging you and you were about to lose your mind. “Please.. bucky”
“Please what,doll?” He smirked, “please let me cum!” Satisfied, he thrust his fingers in once more, finally bringing you to an orgasm. You screamed his name, luckily the loud music outside prevented it from being heard from the party. “Good girl..” he kissed your head as you panted.
Then he flipped you over, pressing your head into the table. “Bucky!” You gasped. He slapped your ass, watching as it ripples. He gently touches the spot that he hit, it slowly turning a red colour. “I know you like that so don’t even try to hide it, doll” you whined once more, and without warning, he thrust inside.
Your eyes roll back and your mouth parts to scream his name. He fucks you senseless, listening as you get cock drunk— to stupid and fucked out to comprehend his words. Degrading you and he occasionally smacked your ass, his hips roughly snapping into yours. He gripped your hair, pulling your head back and pressing your back to his chest. He grabs your head and turns it to face him, kissing your mouth.
You feel yourself slipping, on the verge of climaxing again. “You look so pretty like this, doll” your makeup was smeared, cry’s watery and a bit of droll leaking from your mouth. You cum at his words. He continues thrusting, dropping your hair, and letting you fall on your stomach on the table once more. He threw his own head back, his cock twitching inside you before he came.
Ropes and ropes of cum, he pulled out with a pant, watching as your pussy was clenching around nothing, leaking of a mixture of both of your cums.
He smirks at his work, touching your ass before zipping up his pants. Whispering, “you’re mine, doll” before leaving.
You were breathless, and feel to your knees. You legs couldn’t stand— not without shaking. Still, you felt a sense of achievement.
This was far from over
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flightfoot · 2 days ago
Note
Are there any funny/cute/slice of life/peaceful normal life fic about miraculous?
Yeah sure! There's a lot of those for Lovesquare especially. These are all from the last few years, because those are quickest and easiest for me to pull up, and frankly, there's quite enough of them.
The Magical Rainbow Flying Caticorn by CrochetJellybean
Kagami is just trying to have a fun day with Marinette when Felix keeps messaging her. Apparently Adrien stole the peacock miraculous and won't give it back.
So this is a fun little fic. Felix is very annoyed at having lost his Miraculous, but hey, at least the kwamis are amused with the situation! There might as well be some sort of upside to being a Senti XD.
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Always Trending! by @candlemouse
Tumblr, Twitter, Instagram, and YouTube argue over the Parisian superheroes’ relationship and identities. Things heat up even more when interviews from the Ladyblogger, Chat Noir, Adrien Agreste, and Ladybug release!
This is a fun little glimpse into social media within Miraculous's world, especially with the speculation over secret identities. People keep on putting forward Adrien Agreste as possibly being Ladybug or Chat Noir, even though he's too busy to possibly be a superhero XD
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Draining the Tank by @trinketsinthesun
After a hard day of being Paris's most famous fashion designer and supervillain, Gabriel Agreste wants nothing more than a hot bath. But with the hot water tank always empty, he starts to wonder - why is Adrien taking such long showers?
So this fic is rated M, and it's rated that high because Gabriel comes to suspect that Adrien's long showers are due to him masturbating while he's taking them (no masturbation actually takes place in the fic). Then he notices that Adrien's long showers happen to occur most frequently during akuma attacks and draws his own hilariously wrong conclusions XD.
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Consequences of Dating Blindly by @mostmagical
Marinette knew she tended to get tunnel vision when she was focused, but luckily her boyfriend Chat Noir was always there to watch her back as they fought Monarch. With their enemy having disappeared, however, they decided together that it was finally time to reveal themselves. In public. Face to face. It's a little silly to have to introduce yourself to your own boyfriend, but after all, it wasn’t Marinette’s fault that she never knew her boyfriend’s name. (Adrien has never been to school, and Marinette doesn't know him.)
This is adorable! The two of them are so smitten with each other, and Adrien's not used to people not recognizing him as Adrien AGRESTE on sight. Marinette's got quite a few surprises coming her way, she didn't expect her kitty to come from this kind of background.
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in which chat noir comes up with an awesome gift for ladybug by @mixelation
If his Lady wants ultra rare Adrien Agreste merch, then that’s what his Lady will get! Written for the Miraculous Ladybug Secret Santa exchange.
This was really sweet and I love how mixelation wrote Adrien's internal narration! You really viscerally understood his thoughts and feelings. It had some of the intimacy of a first person perspective, but well, in third person.
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Crossed Wires by @torvalvtt
Marinette has taken Adrien up on his suggestion that they share an apartment in university to help cut costs and be closer to school. This would be fine, except they both seem to have a problem with keeping their suits off around the apartment.
This was fun and hilarious. I loved seeing Ladybug and Chat Noir hurriedly try to come up with excuses for why they were in their own apartment, while Marinette and Adrien weren't XD.
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Valentine Surprise by choppa01
Adrien had the perfect plan for spending Valentine's Day with Marinette. Unfortunately Chat Noir has the worst luck when it comes to keeping to the plan. But it all works out in the end, right? Right?
This is adorable. Chat Noir keeps running into people who need help on Valentine's Day and sacrificing his own plans in order to help others. Luckily, all is not lost, even if everything he set up for his date is.
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impromptu training exercises by @14muffinz
“I didn’t do anything,” Rena says proudly, not flinching away from the ire of their leader. “Eagle, on the other hand…” “DO YOU HAVE IT!?” Rooster Bold shouts eagerly, running forward to shake Rena wildly by the shoulders. “Do. You. HAVE IT!?” “YES,” Rena shouts back. [Eagle deposits an heroic object of importance known simply as The Ball in Alya's bedroom. Chaos, a game of keep away, and bonding insues. Also, a spreadsheet.]
This was a really fun fic! Basically the NYC superheroes play this training game where they attempt to steal this one tennis ball from each other and hold onto it for as long as possible. It's led to this one, ratty ball becoming an important piece of superhero memorabilia.
Naturally, the Miracuteam continues the tradition.
I love how you get little vignettes of what all the different characters are doing, getting a glimpse inside their heads as they try to find, steal, and keep The Ball. If you're a fan of hijinks or the Miracuteam more generally, this'll be right up your alley!
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The Art of Blossoms by @fruitdragon1a
Marinette is a florist. Adrien needs a bouquet. Or: Five times Adrien walked out of Marinette's store with flowers, and one time he left with something far more precious.
This is a classic, adorable No Powers Adrienette AU. I love that Nino and Alya are a couple and are friends with Adrien and Marinette, but that Adrien and Marinette don't know that they have friends in common, it leads to some fun reveals!
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Peppermint Kisses by @kuromori4
After a holiday adventure with his best friends goes horribly wrong, Adrien unexpectedly finds himself finally confessing his love. Too bad he confessed to the wrong girl.
This was fun and cute. An akuma attack gone wrong results in Adrien being a bit woozy and confessing his love to Ladybug... which would be fine, if he was Chat Noir, but as Adrien... well, there are problems.
Plus well. He HAS started catching feelings for Marinette as well...
It's cute, has some nice Ladrien, and just a nice, pleasant read.
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Season Of Giving by The_Rabbit42
As Christmas draws near, Adrien and Marinette want to find special presents to give their partner and... other partner. Combined with Adrien rediscovering what Christmas is without his parents, Marinette getting sick, and Alya and Adrien becoming closer friends, it's sure to be a memorable holiday.
I love this, it's a nice festive story, and I especially enjoyed Adrien and Alya getting to talk and bond and just... be friends with each other, rather than simply existing together in the same friend group! Oh, also, this takes place post-season 5, so Adrien's dealing with being an orphan now and all the complicated feelings that stirs up.
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this is my winter song to you by katrinette
On the last day of school before winter break, Adrien overhears someone singing in one of the classrooms. By the time he gets there, she's gone. He can't get her out of his head. And he keeps hearing her, wherever he goes, until she's the only thing that he can think about. But Adrien doesn't know who she is. At least... not yet. ––– Set against the backdrop of season 4 before Kuro Neko, Adrien begins to really understand the role that his friends play in his life.
Ah this is a lovely Lovesquare fic! Adrien's smitten with a voice he hears and he just keeps on hearing snippets of her singing, but can't track her down and it's driving him crazy!
There's a lot of cute Adrienette and slice-of-life in here, so if you want a low-key fluffy fic full of Adrien's and Marinette's usual adorableness, you came to the right place!
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Perfectly Platonic (Unless…) by @frostedpuffs
After accidentally revealing their identities in less than ideal circumstances, Adrien and Marinette must navigate their newfound relationship as both partners and friends. Becoming best friends was a quick process, but when romantic feelings begin to bleed into what’s supposed to be a platonic connection, their friendship starts to change in more ways than one. Surely it can’t be that hard to hide their feelings from their best friend? (A post-reveal, pre-relationship fic full of romantic crushes, best friend shenanigans, and a whole lot of dumbassery.)
If you just want a straight-up romance slowburn with these two just somehow being convinced their relationship is platonic (or that the other person wants it to be platonic at least), you’ll find little better to scratch that itch than “Perfectly Platonic (Unless…)”. It’s a little smutty and definitely earns its M rating because of that. If you want mutual pining, there’s a ton of that here!
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Confession Plans of Questionable Sanity by yellow14
Nathanael Kurtzberg has a confession to make. He’s in love with his big classmate Ivan. With the help of Marc, Marinette, Adrien and Nino, he’s going to confess, using increasingly complicated schemes. Marc meanwhile, is busy coming up with even more complicated schemes to sabotage those schemes so he can confess HIS feelings for his redheaded friend. Nothing could POSSIBLY go wrong with this, right? Written for the March 2023 gift exchange on the Miraculous Fanworks Discord forum for CassieTheweirdWolf.
This fic’s just really funny. These kids love to make things waaaaay harder than they need to be. But hey, everything ends up working out in the end, even if it’s not the way they planned!
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Attack of the Crystal Zombies by @trainsinanime
Kagami had spent more and more time hanging out with Zoé, talking about things like families, expectations and crushes on Marinette. It was only natural, probably, that she would help Zoé practice flirting. That was definitely a great idea. Granted, the deadly Akuma battle around them was a bit of an issue…
Quality Zoegami fic here! I loved how Kagami kept thinking she was bad at flirting, but it was sure working on Zoe XD. The akuma attack going on around them, interweaving with their conversation, added a bit of spice to the whole affair!
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Perfect by @deinde_prandium
It’s Adrien and Marinette’s wedding day! On site to ensure the event goes perfectly is their friend and famed wedding planner Kagami Tsuguri, and so far all has been going according to plan. There’s just one problem: no one ever told her about Adrien, Marinette, and their struggles with automatic doors. Add to this the fact that Marinette’s determination to play matchmaker between her and a certain wedding singer… Needless to say, Kagami is not pleased.
This is mostly a Kagami-centric fic, with a touch of Lukagami at the end. I loved the callback to Adrienette’s automatic door troubles, and Kagami and Luka being sneaky XD. 
Patrolling with a friend for Christmas by @seas-of-silver
Adrien just wanted to gift his Lady some time off and hang out more with Marinette during the festive season - it didn’t exactly go to plan, but somehow ended up… better?
This was adorable! Chat Noir tries to give Ladybug a break by recruiting Multimouse to replace her on patrols for a bit, and Ladybug returns the favor by recruiting Aspik to replace Chat. Yep, it’s Snekmouse!
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Until I Found You by @linnieluna
Working their way up to a settled adulthood, Marinette and Adrien, now 23, gain a reason to believe that they are expecting—way earlier than they ever planned. Still unwed, it evokes a revelation on Adrien’s behalf. Was it time to take the next step forward?
I loved the emotions here, how Adrien and Marinette reacted to the results of the pregnancy test, how complicated their feelings about it were - and how it prompted Adrien to take action. It’s a really sweet fic!
From school bells to wedding bells by @linnieluna
When the superhero duo takes on another exhausting fight against an akuma, Chat Noir does what he never hesitates to do and takes a hit for his partner. The problem being: neither of them knew what power the akuma possessed. That is… until he is transported into the future. More specifically, to his friend Marinette’s wedding.
Ah I love time travel fics! Older!Marinette’s surprised, Younger!Adrien’s bewildered, and Older!Adrien is off knowing exactly what happened and giving his younger self some subtle heads-up. 
It gives Adrien something to look forward to, to cling onto, through bad days in the future at least!
u + me = love by @xiueryn
Marinette has a massive crush on Adrien. He has a crush on the superhero, Ladybug. When he says the only person he’ll invite as his plus one to an event is Ladybug, Marinette takes her chance to romance him for the night. AU. (a fanboy and fangirl start to date.)
This is just a fun Ladrien story. Ladybug is happy to oblige in Adrien’s fantasies, and no one else believes that he’s actually dating Ladybug.
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Miracoffee by @pauliestorylover
Ever since the last Mr Pigeon attack over nine months ago, Hawkmoth has fallen off the face of the earth, seemingly for good. There’s never been a better chance for an identity reveal—but after keeping her identity a secret for so many years, Marinette feels incredibly nervous about one. When Chat Noir accidentally finds Ladybug working at a café, Alya comes up with a brilliant idea. If Ladybug and Chat Noir interact regularly in a civilian setting, surely they’ll move towards an identity reveal without outside interference?
Adrien Never Goes To Public School Coffee Shop AU here! It’s funny how he clocks Marinette as being Ladybug IMMEDIATELY. And then after discussing it for awhile, decide to make a bit of a game of the identity reveal, having Chat come in on pre-determined days and seeing whether Ladybug can figure out who she is, all while they get to know each other, even if in passing. 
Love the other Miraculous heroes making cameos as well, Marinette seems annoyed that Nino cosplaying as Carapace actually doesn’t tip anyone off XD.
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His Princess and Her Knight by @seas-of-silver
Adrien, Marinette, Nino and Alya have a group assignment about how the past has shaped them into the people they are today, but they’ll make a discovery that’ll send them searching for answers.
This fic is adorable, Adrien, Marinette, and Nino uncover that they all went to the same preschool together, with Adrien and Marinette immediately latching onto each other, Adrien being the knight to Marinette’s princess, and also making friends with Nino. Sadly he was pulled after two weeks, but it made quite an impression on him.
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The Mer-Human Race by @rosie-b
Bringing her hand closer to his lips, Adrien tried to plant a kiss on it, but Marinette pulled away before his lips could touch her. “Save it for your girlfriend,” she said teasingly. “Or do you still not have one yet?” Adrien smirked and crossed his arms. “It’s a girl,” he said. “And I know her in real life. That’s all you get. Now, let’s get back to planning, shall we? We have a mermaid to beat.”
Lovely world-building here! Merfolk and humans have had a treaty for a long time, so there’s a tradition where merfolk can challenge humans to a race, and whoever wins gets to ask for a reasonable sort of reward (in Marinette’s case, she wants to be allowed to captain a ship at a younger age than is usually allowed). Alya, Nino, and Adrien are naturally very encouraging towards Marinette, and luckily for her, a nice merman going by the name of Chat Noir shows up and challenges her to a race…
Yeah you can see where this is going XD. It’s fun, I thoroughly enjoyed it.
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Cheating Cat by @11jj11
When Emma and Isaac Dupain-Cheng realize that Adrien is Chat Noir, that can only mean one thing… that he’s cheating on Marinette with Ladybug, and they’re the only ones that know!
This is really cute, with Emma and Isaac being worried about Adrien supposedly cheating on Marinette and wanting to talk to Ladybug to stop her from dating Chat Noir. That’s not all that’s going on here, though - Isaac’s actually adopted, but he and Adrien are still related, which puts an interesting twist on the tale. There’s a reason he’s especially sympathetic to the fact that Adrien being Chat Noir means he would have had to fight his own father…
A Mousey guest by charliepoet13
Adrien Agreste has finally managed to break away from his father and make his way out into the world. One faithful night, after settling down in his new home, he spots a strange guest.
Adrien X Multimouse fic here! So this is inspired by the Borrowers, with little people the size of mice living amongst ordinary-sized humans, and Marinette got a little careless here XD. But soon finds that Adrien’s friendly and not a threat. It’s adorable and reminds me of the The Littles book series that I read when I was a kid!
Three Crazy Days by @lea-panthera
In which Marinette’s mind is forced to stretch a mile.
So Bunnix drops off Marinette’s future daughter for her to take care of, who blabs that her grandfather is Hawk Moth, and then things quickly spin out of control XD.
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@ ladybug by @hefoundme
Trending in Paris 1 · Trending #JusticeForPapillombre 2 · Technology · Trending Tsurugi Corp Trending with Tomoe Tsurugi 3 · Trending #LadynoirStrong
So this is a multimedia type fic showing various online conversations and things that would likely be going on in Miraculous Paris. It doesn’t really have a coherent narrative per se, and is more like a series of vignettes. It’s a lot of fun, like there’s a section going over Andre’s ice cream reviews, Alix talking with Max about how she’s worried about Alim falling down conspiracy rabbit holes, an image of the most popular google search terms for Adrien, all sorts of things! It must’ve taken a lot of work and I think it’s worth a look. 
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Lost Little Kitten by soliea0death
Monarch hasn’t been seen for a while, but that doesn’t mean that Ladybug and Chat Noir aren’t still needed as the heroes of Paris. Also, the new holder of the rabbit miraculous may need some more practice when dealing with time travel. One-shot Ladynoir ;);)
This is adorable. Ladybug and Chat Noir find a toddler wandering around and try to find her parents, to no avail, so they decide to take care of her (well Ladybug said she was gonna leave her with Marinette, but you know what that really means). Of course Bunnix had to come to collect her since she was displaced from time, but neglected to say who her parents were…
Anyway this was adorable, and I loved the explanation for how, exactly, the little girl ended up in the wrong time period.
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adrien agreste and the consequences of tweets making fun of yourself by Anonymous
Well, Adrien thinks, what’s the worst that could come from a few poorly thought-out tweets lightly ribbing his own civilian identity?
I love the focus here on how people just assume what Adrien’s thinking and feeling and act on his behalf, without actually waiting to see what HE wants, and Adrien’s growing frustration. How they create a version of him in their heads, but don’t care to check with reality to see whether he actually wants their “defense”. 
Spin the Bottle by @kasienda
When the bottle cap comes to a stop dead center on Nino, Adrien’s both relieved and somehow more anxious. His first kiss - not his actual first kiss, but still kinda his first kiss - the first kiss he will remember, will be with someone he deeply cares about. But Adrien also cares what Nino thinks of him, so what if he’s a terrible kisser? Nino offers him a reassuring smile, and he relaxes. Adrien glances at Alya for permission, and she just shoos him towards Nino. Adrien turns to Nino, leaning closer. If his stomach had been squirming before, it now feels like a half dozen Kwamis have taken up residence in his gut. But Adrien doesn’t hesitate. He blocks out the presence of all of his friends watching, and instead focuses on Nino - like Nino is a stage partner in a photoshoot. Except kissing Nino is nothing like a photoshoot. … Adrien kisses Nino in a game of Spin the Bottle, and then neither can stop thinking about it. Alya really likes how flustered her boyfriend is by all this. Marinette though, can’t handle it and keeps running away.
This is a great Alya X Adrien X Nino X Marinette poly fic! I love them all talking out their feelings and realizing new things about themselves. Alya’s instrumental and bringing everyone together, though she, herself, is also nervous about confessing to her longstanding crush XD
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Windows 5 + 1 by @dadplagg-mamatikki
A bet between Kim and Alix trigger a chain reactions of events where Adrien jumps out of windows.
I love this. Adrien needs very little prompting to jump out of windows, heck he’ll do it with NO prompting, it’s hilarious XD. Heck he even asked whether Kim would prefer a normal jump or a theatrical one! It’s really not that surprising though, considering how we’ve seen Adrien dive from the top of his rock-climbing wall onto his couch.
I know there’s been pain this year (But it’s time to let it go) by @ninadove
“What? Nooo! Adrien doesn’t hate Christmas.” “Are you absolutely certain? What was he like last year?” “Well, he —” Marinette furrowed her brow, scanning her own memories. Of course she was absolutely certain. At least, she thought she was. Okay — she could not ignore that Adrien had run away from home that night, wandering the snow-covered streets to escape the freezing cold of his own home. Nor could she brush away the disintegrated Morris column, cataclysmed for the crime of bearing his own face. Oh, and the shaky videos circulating on YouTube. That musical number was… Concerning, to say the least. Still, it was no smoking gun. Right? “Oh my god,” she squeaked, plopping down against the counter. “Adrien hates Christmas.”
I love Marinette and Felix doing their best to cheer Adrien up, it’s adorable. Especially Marinette’s attempt. It’s very Marinette, I laughed out loud XD. There’s a lot of senticousin bonding here, so if you like that, this is a good one to check out!
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Caught In A Multimouse Trap by @a-flaming-idiot
Adrien was having a rather slow morning. That was until he discovered a tiny superhero trapped in his home and decides to be a bit of a hero even out of his suit.
This was adorable! Adrien does his best to care for the little miniature superhero caught in a mousetrap, bandaging her up as best as he can (thankfully only her tail got caught so it’s more of a phantom pain than an actual injury) and just… it’s really cute.
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the best laid plans (of bugs and bakers) by @mexicancat-girl
Paris is buzzing with the appearance of a new ladybug-themed hero, Scarabella. Alya decides to use her second hero identity to help her best friend Marinette. A bit of her flirting with Marinette is bound to make Marinette’s crushes jealous and finally ask her out! Her plan is fool-proof…! Except when it’s not. Not enough people are talking about Scarabella flirting with Marinette. How can Alya properly help her best friend if the news can’t be bothered to cover Marinette’s budding romance with Scarabella and only posts things about Marinette with Chat Noir?! So Alya puts her all into her plan, upping up her flirting each time she appears as the newbie hero Scarabella. This totally does not backfire in any way.
I adore fics that center on Alya, I haven’t exactly been shy about that fact. This is a nice one for some Alyanette adorableness! (And some Scarabella and Chat banter, I really enjoyed reading that as well). “Fake” flirting to make crushes jealous tends to turn real very quickly, and this is no exception. It’s hilarious, Alya’s the last one to figure out that her romantic relationship with Marinette is very much real XD.
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Within Your Heart by Inkyibis
It’s Valentine’s Day and Ladybug just wants to her superhero partner to find his love. And what she wants, the Lucky Charm will create. If only she could remember what it is she did last night.
Adrino fic here! Marinette’s drunk and feeling awful that her superhero partner is alone on Valentine’s (she’s in a loving and committed relationship with Alya), so she creates a Lucky Charm to help Chat find love! In this universe, Ladybug’s Lucky Charms have the power to create new rules for the universe to follow, such as making one that demands that if you have any magic in you, you have to tell the truth or else you’ll freeze. Or in Adrien’s case, that he has to wake up in the arms of his true love every day XD. It’s very sweet and I love both Adrien’s and Nino’s relationship, and the relationship between the rest of the Miracuteam members as well, even though that’s not the focus.
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a winter so warm by @rosekasa
winters were hard for even the best of vampires, but at least adrien had marinette to keep him warm with her cuddles. december was going to suck without her. so it was only to be expected to get extra cuddles in before she left, right? (well, not really, considering those heating supplements he was taking, but she didn’t need to know about that).
This one’s mostly just cute cuddly adorableness! It’s basically like all those “Marinette gets the Ladybug trait of needing to cuddle up to someone for warmth”, but with Adrien instead. And of course featuring Marinette being a very talented witch who just wants to help Adrien stay warm when she isn’t there XD.
The 8 Weddings of Alix Kubdel by The_Rabbit42
The bet is simple: with the Rabbit Miraculous, Alix will be speaking at all of her friends’ weddings. No matter what age they tie the knot, she’ll be there looking the same. From Alix’s perspective, she’s going to each ceremony and reception one right after another in a nonstop bender.
This fic’s a lot of fun! I loved seeing all the different weddings, as well as how Alix slowly felt more and more out of place, with going forwards in time. Some of the weddings could get, uh. Exciting as well XD. And while there’s been years in-between Alix’s appearances for her friends at the wedding, for Alix, it’s only been a few hours, if that…
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Three’s company by @torvalvt
Kagami has been doing her best for years to ignore her feelings for her friends. It doesn’t help that Adrien and Marinette insist on spending as much time as possible with her, even going so far as inviting her along on their dates together. If only the affection she felt for them wouldn’t get in the way of their relationship. Because it is growing harder and harder to tamp down her feelings with how close they are getting to her.
This is adorable. Adrien and Marinette really want Kagami to join their relationship and she just doesn’t dare hope for it. If you want some adorable Adrigaminette from Kagami’s perspective, I recommend checking this fic out!
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The Power of Love by @nedjsmlfavs
In which Ladybug announces that she’s pregnant via her long term boyfriend and Chat Noir is a supportive partner. After all, he can hardly be upset when he’s been dating his Princess for years!
A different take on the show’s tagline (“The Power of Love Always so Strong”) written for Valentine’s day 2023.
This is just a sweet, fluffy fic about Ladybug and Chat Noir finding out they’re having a baby, revealing to each other, getting married, and becoming parents. Gabriel actually tries to do better here, as he does actually care about getting to know his grandchild, and realizes that he can’t undo this timeline without undoing his granddaughter’s existence as well. 
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Skinny Dipping in the Seineby whensparksfly
When Marinette and Chat Noir cross paths one stormy night, an unexpected friendship blossoms, and between the two of them they’re both able to admit what they’ve been looking for the most — freedom. Vowing to tackle all of the things they’ve never tried before, they set out on a series of adventures to complete their bucket lists.
Cute little Marichat fic here! Just Marinette and Chat Noir hanging out and doing things they’ve always wanted to do, like going to a rave or, well, skinny-dipping in the Seine.
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Villainous Matchmakingby @nedjsmlfavs
When Chat Noir is tragically unable to attend an event with Ladybug, the mayor calls in a favor from a designer ‘friend’. Now she’s attending in style, on the arm of the hottest male model in Paris. Which would be fine if it weren’t for one, tiny issue: Paris’ favorite domestic terrorist now knows how Ladybug feels about his son. This leads him to his greatest plan yet, using Ladybug’s extremely obvious crush on Adrien Agreste to akumatize Chat Noir.
A Ladrien/“platonic” Ladynoir fic
This is adorable and hilarious. Gabriel keeps on “accidentally” releasing things which makes it looks like Adrien and Ladybug are a couple in an effort to make Chat Noir jealous, while Adrien and Ladybug ae just over-the-moon about getting to spend time together and finding out that the other person loves them XD.
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The moment I knew (I’d no choice but to love you) by @bbutterflies
“He’s dating me,” Nino said, taking Adrien’s hand in his own.
Adrien could only stare back at him in shock.
“How dare you all force him to come out?” Nino continued, glaring at the reporters. “That was disgusting.” He pulled Adrien over to the car, guided him in, and shut the door behind them.
In the relative quiet and privacy of the backseat, Adrien finally processed what had just happened. “So… when were you going to tell me we were dating?”
This Adrino fic is delicious XD. Reporters keep hounding Adrien about his love life, so Nino finally gets them off Adrien’s back by fake-dating him. Problem is, Adrien’s actually been madly in love with Nino for years but has never been able to tell him. And now as they’re spending more time together, Nino’s beginning to find that he’s enjoying all these “couple” activities more than maybe he ought to if it’s entirely platonic...
If you want to see Adrien and Nino PINING for each other while “fake” dating (is it really fake if both parties want it to be real?) then you’ve come to the right fic!
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Every Heartbeat by @epcot97
Reeling from a brutally difficult day, Marinette finds her life becomes amazingly complicated after impulsively inviting Chat Noir to spend the evening with her. But when the suave feline begins to weave his way into her heart, she realizes rather quickly just how conflicted her feelings for her partner truly are. (part of MariChat May 2021)
Okay so I’m cheating on this one just a little. This story was originally uploaded in 2021, but was taken down and then reuploaded in 2023. I didn’t read it the first time around, and I really enjoyed it and this is my list, so screw it, I’m including it.
Really lovely Marichat fic here! Gabriel fires Marinette from her designer job for unfair reasons, so Chat goes to comfort her and help her set up her own fashion business, becoming closer and closer as they do so. 
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Chemistry With Him by @bbutterflies
It kind of sucked Nino was taking chemistry, but classes had filled up fast and he needed to take something and his advisor had said the credits would, somehow, count towards his major. It really sucked he was taking it first thing on a Monday morning (and Wednesdays, and Fridays, unfortunately). But he could get through it. He knew he could.
So no more boys. No distractions. He could do this all on his own.
“Is anyone sitting here?”
Nino looked up to find the source of the voice. A blond, green-eyed, absolutely beautiful someone.
Okay. Maybe one distraction.
Ah, adorable Adrino. This is a universe where Adrien never went to public school, so while Chat Noir, Ladybug, Carapace, and Rena Rouge all know each other (and Marinette, Alya, and Nino all know each other’s identities) they’re unaware that they are all already friends with Adrien. I loved seeing Chat and Carapace excitedly tell each other about their awesome crush/boyfriend, not knowing they were talking about each other XD.
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The Rules of Engagementby @overworkedunderwhelmed
When tragedy sends Adrien Agreste racing back to Paris to run his father’s fashion house, Marinette doesn’t expect much from her very new, very rich boss. At least not until she is set up on a blind date with a very familiar face.
Much to her surprise, Adrien Agreste was hiding far more secrets behind his stoic business-like mask of temporary CEO. Maybe as many secrets as she had been trying to hide for years.
As they grow closer, Marinette fears her mask isn’t nearly as foolproof. Day after day, it gets harder for her to keep all her secrets well hidden from the surprisingly sweet man who insisted on staying by her side as often as possible.
Only she couldn’t afford to fail. Not when her biggest secret could spell the end of the job she’d dreamed about for years.
They might not be superheroes in this universe, but secret identities are still active here. Both Marinette and Adrien used to be involved with the Ladybug and Chat Noir movies, and both kept that a secret - Adrien especially, since if his father found out about it, there could be some bad repercussions, as he voiced Chat Noir without Gabriel’s permission. Marinette, meanwhile, is well known for making cosplay (calling herself “Ladybug” after the movie), and has been in contact with “Chat Noir” for quite some time before the story starts - not that she knows he’s the actual VA.
It’s mostly an Adrienette fic with the two of them getting to know each other after their unusual “first” meeting, where Marinette pretended to be Kagami in order to scupper the date with Adrien and get Tomoe off her back, with some intrigue and drama thrown in. Lila’s skulking around causing problems for the people around her, but she’s honestly not the main focus here. 
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Fate, Destiny... A Hamsterby @mostmagical
After finally moving into his very first apartment per Ladybug’s suggestion, Adrien discovers something no movie or TV show could have ever prepared him for: someone else's hamster.
Marinette was so excited to have her first pet. If only it would stop escaping!
At least now there’s an excuse to talk to the new neighbor.
(Adrienette Never Met AU)
Funnily enough, this is based on a true story. Specifically, the author’s own experience of having her hamster run out and be found by a neighbor.
Anyway, this is adorable! Marinette and Adrien become smitten with each other extremely quickly, with Marinette’s hamster keeping giving them reasons to talk. Very effective wing-hamster, that one XD. 
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you made me a hero - reverse crush short stories seriesby @non-fantasy
This series is just plain fun! Like the title says, it’s a reverse crush AU, so Adrien’s head-over-heels for Marinette, while Ladybug’s smitten with Chat Noir. Which means that Adrien’s constantly trying to woo Marinette while Ladybug’s attempting to have normal conversations with Chat Noir (and failing), and both of them are oblivious to each other’s feelings. 
I love the way non-fantasy executes it, with Alya literally carrying around a spray bottle because of how eager Adrien is, and Ladybug being VERY SCARY if you ever lay a finger on Chat Noir (seriously akumas will literally beg for their akumatized object to be broken just to escape her wrath). 
Oh, also, Ladybug regularly stops by Adrien’s room so they can both lament how difficult of a time they’re having wooing their crushes, and just have fun together.
There’s a lot of entries in this series - 29 of them in fact - but most of them are pretty short, making it great if you want to devour some quick, cute, hilarious romcom action! 
Some stuff does actually change over the course of the series, it’s not just slice-of-life. Like identity reveals, dating, and even Hawkmoth’s defeat, so there’s clear progression and changes in circumstances as well.
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hiskillingjar · 3 days ago
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Since you were asking for questions to distract you:
What is one thing you have been DYING to share about Echo, Lawrence, Ren and/or Strade? Literally just use this ask to go on a rant about whatever/whoever you want 💛
*fiona apple voice* what the hell, sure.
long post so under the cut. general headcanon dump for ren/fox, law and strade be upon ye. echo is included.
ren + fox 🦊
can't speak japanese (think this is canon) and feels weird and traumatised about it. makes an effort to learn after strade's death, and by fox age, he's fluent.
(also) after strade's death, he attends community college (by fudging a high school degree and upping the sob story of an abusive boyfriend) and gets a degree in coding :)
really struggles to eat vegetables and dairy. would only eat meat and carbs if he was left to his own devices
both of these make his not entirely subtle ED habits flare up, though, so he's kind of a bad eater. don't take him out for dinner, he'll overthink it for days
has a pintrest where he collects outfit inspiration ^_^
sort of self-conscious about his height but knows it's an asset in his younger years. starts wearing heeled boots as he gets older.
lawrence 🥀
can't watch movies or tv shows without disassociating. it makes existing as a human being sort of exhausting
had a crush on their guidance counsellor at school and fantasised about her raping them. felt immediately bad about it and had an OCD doom spiral that made them stop going to see her
generally sex and romance repulsed, to the degree that they questioned if they even had the capacity to feel those emotions at all
turns out, just super depressed
when they do feel romantic or sexual, it can be very overwhelming and intense. which is why they prefer to just. not feel it lol
struggles gaining weight but develops a bit of a gut as they get older. they're a little self-conscious about it.
has a few hang-ups about masculinity, queerness, gender nonconformity. their dad put some fucked up ideas into their head as a kid (which also explains their OCD)
has two broken molars and crooked teeth from not looking after them when they were younger
strade 🔨
coffee drinker. likes it strong but with two sugars. won't drink tea, thinks it's a bad use of caffeine
not a picky eater but won't eat vegetarian "fake" meat. he has like a visceral reaction to it. real dad core energy in that respect.
on the subject of dad core, totally does that thing where he'll walk into a room and just stand there watching tv for twenty minutes. has done that when ren watches anime. no sitting, just...standing.
yellow teeth <3 from smoking when he was younger (with the occasional cigar in his older age) and coffee drinking.
never broken a bone, but has a fuck ton of scars and scrapes. his back especially (from fucking ren <3)
has a few masochistic inclinations. likes a punch to the face, likes to get scratched up and beat up. it gets his blood pumping
very comfortable being a verse, but wouldn't sub for love nor money. ultimate power bottom when he's doing it
acab. really doesn't like police. like he knows how to chat to them and put on the charm and all that, but he doesn't trust them. acab.
echo 🪒 (that's her emoji) (also just facts I feel like sharing)
echo was named and based after echo and query, the riddler's lesbian sidekicks in the batman comics. i developed the two of them into a genderfluid domsub lesbian couple for a batman 2022 fanfic, and got so attached to echo that she became her own character <3
echo's design was partially inspired by trianon serious weakness, but more so that I miss having black and green hair lol. she also has all of my piercings :)
characters who also inspired echo are vikki from what happens next and beth from manhunt by gretchen felker-martin
echo works at fictional cafe that's a stand-in for st*rbucks because of their gender affirming care benefits.
when she and law first met at therapy, she thought they were a clocky trans girl. had absolutely no idea they were basically cis until they told her
her favourite video games are metal gear solid (of course), silent hill and yume nikki
she'd never ever tell anyone she likes anime (because it's cringe apparently), but her favourites are neon genesis evangelion and berserk. has a secret fondness for madoka magica too
echo has one (1) other friend who's a detransitioned butch nb called matt (they/she). echo bullied matt in high school, and they eventually dated but broke it off amicably. they play call of duty together on thursdays.
echo has fucked every woman in law and her's group therapy, and she hates it.
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bacchuschucklefuck · 6 months ago
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class swap design masterpost for convenience (from top to bottom: bard!riz, cleric!gorgug, sorcerer!kristen, barbarian!fig, artificer!adaine, and rogue!fabian)
#dimension 20#fantasy high#fhfy#fhsy#fhjy#riz gukgak#gorgug thistlespring#kristen applebees#figueroth faeth#adaine abernant#fabian seacaster#my class swap stuff! oh yeah I think I got a tag for that I'll call that#fh class quangle#gna slowly go back and get that tag on relevant posts too. for organization's sake#even tho I didnt really intend this blog to be that kinda blog lmao. we were all just gonna be out here dealin with that at our own pace#anyways uh! they! u know all the lore for the designs already I put em in tags. but otherwise this also collects like the#color keys kind of for these. mostly the things that change between designs#doing this did make me realise half of these are a Lot more consistent in color keys than the other half lol#like kristen's palette stays pretty much the same. and fabian's. the hit's mostly in the construction#a lot of this is overall like an exercise in remembering what high schoolers would actually wear and how to work in Costume pieces#on this point at least I straight up have No relevant recollection lmao all the basic education establishments I went to have uniforms#and outside of school I was. well kind of a shorts and tee guy. so#on that topic I feel like fabian's is the furthest stretch lmao. like if a guy in high school wears the same bright yellow raincoat#to school every day that's like. people would Not like that guy. fabian really is saved by being cute and a rogue#he will still have stans when he's deep in his fishing arc in junior year he's the manic pixie dream bf#anyways uh. things to do! stuff to get done. sleep first tho. have a good night lads#I have not caught new nsbu yet! seems I mostly catch them like two to three days late nowadays.#so please uhh. don't reply on my posts with nsbu spoilers? we are all excited and having fun but that's rude#ok thank u. signing off for the day have a good night#!!
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thepaladinstrait · 17 days ago
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uniform designers hate to see people with normal fucking hips
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corpocyborg · 1 year ago
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God, I will never not enjoy how surprised nearly all my younger students get when they find out how much I know about video games. Like... but you're my teacher... and you're nearly 30... and you're a woman... how can this be??? 🤯
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ad-astra-per-aspera-1389 · 7 months ago
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So, I still had the (free) hogwarts mystery game on my phone, so I started playing it again, and... the people that made this one really said "fuck you jkr, trans rights". They gave me this jacket FOR FREE
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LOOK AT THAT
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lunarharp · 1 year ago
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more phoenix wright situations
#unnecessary addition.#ppl liked this a lot - thank you pffggghh...#i will be drawing more AA over christmas bc i am dwelling a lot. i love kristoph as a character bc he really does get his comeuppance#him convinced that he's been playing this dark flirty obsessive chess game with phoenix all these years they were suspecting each other#and that one kiss signified that phoenix Owes him for yet another thing - realising he is queer - when like...#you were just another single element in phoenix realising he wants to be with another man for the rest of his life#that would be the most abject humiliation for kristoph - just another instance where he isn't nearly as significant as he thinks he is#and will end up in prison - while phoenix ends up happily and sweetly married as he deserves...#i don't usually spend much time thinking about characters i don't at all respect but he's just so GAY...and does get his comeuppance.#obsessed with the part in game where HE brings up how other ppl wouldnt see a man as 'self-respecting' if he wears fancy nail polish#this man is one of those homophobic homosexuals. he literally wouldn't be happy if gay marriage became legalised#and phoenix shares that with him while visiting him in prison with the glint of edgeworth's wedding band#he liked feeling like he was seducing straight men to the dark side.. what a fascinating and foolish person#again - i don't care for villains much - qifrey is the most morally questionable level i usually could get attached to#but when they're GAY...and their crimes are like idiot murders they ultimately get apprehended for rather than being like. Creepy to women#Well examining and then defeating such a man is fulfilling. Oooh thought turning phoenix bi was your funniest victory didn't you.#He has been head over heels for another prissy rich boy since primary school..you are nothing#i also don't really care at all about klavier despite respecting him far more than his brother obviously#and klapollo seems pretty real but i truly do not care i'd rather think about kristoph. klavier is not my kind of character#those two really represent how the far less morally respectable character can be far more fun to think about and examine at times🤔#i do get confused when others seem loopy for nasty characters i find reprehensible bc i don't find reprehensibility interesting#but i mean we all enjoyed scar in the lion king. if a spiralling villain is unnecessarily gay i'm glad he's there#kristoph is the scar archetype. gay awful brothers who are really pissed off that nobody cares about them#becoming less and less deserving of anyone caring about them the more they secretly murder people#Like what is wrong with you for real.#also thinking deeply today on how narumitsu was designed by a BL manga creator and were always designed to be BL i love them#ace attorney is a childhood thing to me. christmassy childhood thing. love that they age w/ me. canonically they're my generation. Love it
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itgetzweird08 · 9 months ago
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“You shouldn’t be up this late”
Bakugo’s voice whispered, filling the silence in the dorm kitchen. He was right, and usually you weren’t. You valued your sleep, often being one of the first in the class to call it a night. But tonight was different. Your thoughts, your heart, were restless. Despite following your nighttime routine, which was curated specifically to help you wind down and rest, you still found yourself tossing and turning. Not even your ocean sounds could help you drift to sleep. Thats why when Bakugo spoke, you sighed heavily and let your shoulders droop.
“Yeah. I know.”
He took a few steps toward you, leaning against the countertop. “So what’s got you awake?” You shrugged at him, watching the water in the electric kettle begin to form small bubbles. “Dunno…just can’t sleep I guess.” You looked over to him, taking soft note of his tired eyes and disheveled hair. “And you? You aren’t usually awake at this time either.” He shrugged right back at you. “Dunno…can’t sleep I guess” he echoed your words, and it made you smile just a bit.
You both knew why the other was awake, or at least you both had some inkling. Between how the ambush attack played out and Midoriya running away, neither of you have had time to really process all of what has gone on. You haven’t had time to think about how your lives had been flipped one eighty. But since Midoriya was back safe and sound, and there was no real information on the League or their next move, everything was at a standstill. That meant your brain was finally coming up to speed on what had gone on recently…and it was overwhelming. It felt like your mind was in over drive, thinking so many thoughts at once that it was causing you to lose sleep.
“…There’s a lot of water in this kettle. Would you like some tea?” Bakugo didn’t answer, just walked over to the mug cabinet and grabbed both of your designated mugs. Yours had your hero insignia, and he had his. It was Nezu’s Christmas gift for all of the hero course students. Bakugo opened the tea drawer, grabbing you each a packet of sleepytime zen tea before walking back over to you. You worked in silence then, enjoying each other’s company as you made your own cups.
Your relationship with Bakugo was unique. You admired him, even when he was a bit of an asshole at the beginning of the school year. You’ve enjoyed watching him grow and working beside him as a teammate. You were inspired by his tenacity and drive. You liked how smart and witty he was, and how he could be funny even when he didn’t realize it. It also didn’t hurt that he was actually pretty cute. And all of the same things went for you in his eyes. He admired your kindness and your courage. He was inspired by the way you had such a big heart but you were no push over, standing up to him when he got too rough with his words or during training. In his eyes, it was like you were one of the only people to give him a chance, getting to know him past his rough exterior. You two had gotten closer during the year, training and studying together sometimes. You began to sit next to him for lunch, stealing small pieces of chicken from his plate while he stole beef from yours. You were the only one with that privilege. Eventually, you became this unlabeled, unspoken thing. You didn’t have to confess your feelings because he knew, and you knew how he felt about you even if he’s never admitted it.
You softly sipped your tea, allowing the warm liquid to run down your throat and causing you to sigh. He stirred his own cup, watching the spoon go around and around. Technically, there was nothing else for you two to do in the kitchen. Technically, you could’ve parted ways right here and drank your own cups in your rooms. But you couldn’t bear to leave him. Deep down, you both didn’t want to be alone tonight.
“Bakugo?” He looked up as you said his name. “Could I sleep over in your room tonight? I don’t think I want to be alone”
All he did was scoff, pick up his mug and began walking towards the staircase. When he realized you weren’t following, he scowled and turned to look at you.
“Let’s go brat. I’m missing out on my beauty sleep”
Part two
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Ps: im starting to do requests! So if you have an idea for me, go ahead and put it in my asks <3
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my-chemical-rot · 1 year ago
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Looooove it (/s) when people who haven’t taken an art class since 5th grade make all kinds of judgements about college-level art classes and say shit like “isn’t it an easy class though? Don’t you get an A just for showing up? Or just for participating? You don’t actually have to be good at art to pass that class right?” Like okay maybe when you’re ten years old your art teacher isn’t gonna grade you by technique and skill but contrary to popular belief you actually have to be *good* at art and work your fucking ass off every single day to get a good grade in an art class
#The kids in IB Music at my school get automatic A’s#Not even for showing up they can skip half the year and still pass their class their teacher just does not care#And they wrongfully assume that IB Visual Art is the same way#Like. no!! I actually have to work really really hard on my portfolio for two years to get even a B in this class 😊#Like good for you that your class is nothing but my teacher actually expects me to be good at my craft to get a good grade 👍#And also contrary to popular belief being good at art is not just Drawing Realistically. You don’t get an A or an F based on how realistic#you can draw. It’s about utilizing media in a purposeful way; learning the rules and techniques for the media in question;#mastering the elements/principles of design; putting in effort; & having creative ideas that you can successfully communicate in your piece#Idk I guess what defines good art is subjective and a conversation and all that. But that’s how you get a good grade in this class at least#Like. It’s not as easy as ''turn in a ten second doodle and get an A for just trying''#and it’s not as basic as ''turn in a realistic drawing and get an A for being good at realism''#Anyways. Currently trying out printmaking and it’s going SO bad 😵‍💫😵‍💫#I don’t expect higher than a C on this project#but!!! For my final grade at the end of the first quarter I got an A & that’s the first time it’s happened with this class :-)#(it’s a 2 year course; last year I ended each quarter with a C. & a B once)#So whatever I’m proud of myself#tbf this quarter has mostly been about the Comparative Study & writing about art is easier than actually creating art so that’s probably wh#still an A’s an A
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superiorsturgeon · 8 months ago
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out of curiosity, why do you like sturgeons so much?
A chance to info dump about my favorite fish…?!
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I grew up in the Great Lakes area of North America, where fishing is pretty popular but everyone knows that fish populations aren’t anything like “the good old days” when people took out huge numbers of fish while messing up their spawning sites. I got pretty into fishing when I found out that I could catch bluegill in the surrounding farm ponds, and once in a while my family took me to an isolated fishing cabin for vacation, but for years I never encountered a wild fish bigger than a kilogram or two.
BUT THEN…
I found out about sturgeon! They were HUGE fish that had once lived in the rivers and lakes all around my home, and better yet, fish almost exactly like modern sturgeon had existed all the way back in the Cretaceous period alongside the dinosaurs, and they STILL EXIST TODAY!!! The fact that small numbers of these huge dinosaur fish still existed made them seem almost like a real-life lake monster/cryptid, except that we had proof of their existence!
Furthermore, there’s just nothing else like them. Sturgeon get big. Like, REALLY big. The record for the largest sturgeon was almost 11 meters/24 feet long, which is colossal for freshwater animals. They have armor plates of bone running down their sides, and at the same time they don’t have bony skeletons. They also have a crazy mouth structure, which allows them to actually pop their jaws out like a tube and suck up food. And on top of all of this, the adults are absolute tanks. I’ve seen skin nearly 8mm thick, and it’s so tough that people make leather out of it, and they occasionally lose fins or even entire gill plates and just keep on swimming! (I found out about that last one when I tried to wrestle a big female out of a river and my hand went straight into her gills. She didn’t seem that bothered by it!)
For a long time I filed sturgeon along with Alligator Gar, Giant Mekong catfish, and Yangtze paddlefish as a semi-legendary fish that may still exist, but I was never going to see except possibly in an aquarium, until I enrolled in graduate school. For those unfamiliar with grad school in the US, it typically involves both high-level classes as well as an independent research project the student designs and carries out with help from an experienced professor. When my mentor asked what kind of thing I wanted to study, I tossed out “sturgeon” as one such possibility, expecting to hear that I would probably have to limit myself to more common/accessible species.
I was blown away when she said “Actually, I think I know a guy…”
For the next several years, I got to ride along collecting wild adult sturgeon, gathering eggs, and raising the baby fish in a lab and in a hatchery. I was holding something that I had thought of as a semi-mythical lake/river monster in my own hands! I got to see a river choked with giants as big as 2 meters long, and I got to hold a 5-centimeters mottled baby whose armored scutes were still sharp and possessed the little arrowhead shape and big black pectoral fins that remind me of Mickey Mouse ears! In the video below you can even see a little heartbeat! (Don’t worry, this little guy was returned to the tank soon after to recover from his anesthesia!)
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Sadly, I didn’t find anything super groundbreaking in my research, but my experience DID land me a job working in sturgeon aquaculture! If you’ve ever had caviar that wasn’t poached, it probably came from a sturgeon farm, and if you want to see a lot of big fish up close, this is a good place to do it! I probably personally handled more individual sturgeon than there are wild fish in several sturgeon species. In addition, while the wild broodstock I mentioned above might reach 2 meters and over 50kg, the sturgeon I dealt with at the farm would easily double that, and there were a LOT of them! I got to see sturgeon behavior that had never been recorded in field guides, and even a few crazy one-in-a-million mutations like the infamous “ghost” sturgeon!
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I even got the opportunity to cook my own sturgeon meat (Yeah, I basically turned into the Touden siblings from Dungeon Meshi except for sturgeon instead of RPG monsters). I got pretty good at making smoked sturgeon, but the meat is also good on the grill or baked, and people have been cooking them in various ways for centuries.
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My favorite part of the job was physically wrestling the big fish! Sturgeon are easier to grab than other fish with the right know-how, but a human-sized fish often has its own plans for the day and won’t always cooperate. I was pretty good at moving the adults by the time I left that job, but it was still a wild rodeo every time!
Even more exciting was how we spawned each new generation of sturgeon. In the wild, they form massive spawning runs in big rivers that in the past would be enough to tip small boats, but in a lab or farm we have to use other means. I’ll spare you the details, but I am one of a small number of people who have surgically extracted eggs from a live sturgeon and sutured them back up to swim another day.
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The tldr of this essay is that sturgeon are a big, crazy-unique fish that have been around a long time, and I’ve spent a lot of my career handling and working with them. There’s just nothing like them for a fish nerd and they’re damn cool!
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(Clip art not mine, I think @sturgeonposting drew or shared it!)
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uwmspeccoll · 7 months ago
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The author, Angela Hovak Johnston.
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Johnston and Marjorie Tungwenuk Tahbone, traditional tattoo artist.
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Catherine Niptanatiak: "I designed my own, something that represents me and who I am, something that I would be proud to wear and show off, and something that would make me feel confident and beautiful. . . . I have daughters and I would like to teach them what I know. I would like for them to want to practice our traditions and keep our culture alive."
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Cecile Nelvana Lyall: "On my hand tattoos, from the top down, the triangles represent the mountains. . . . The Ys are the tools used in seal hunting. . . . The dots are my ancestors. . . . I am so excited to be able to truly call myself and Inuk woman."
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Colleen Nivingalok: "The tattoos on my face represent my family and me. The lines on my chin are my four children -- my two older boys on the outside protecting my daughters. The lines on my cheeks represent the two boys and the two girls on either side. The one on my forehead represents their father and me. Together, we live for our children."
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Doreen Ayalikyoak Evyagotailak: "I have thought about getting traditional tattoos since I was a teenager. . . . When I asked the elders if I could have my own meaning for my tattoos, they said it wouldn't matter. My tattoos symbolize my kids."
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Mary Angele Takletok: "I always wanted traditional tattoos like the women in the old days. I wanted them on my wrists and my fingers so I could show I'm Inuk."
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Melissa MacDonald Hinanik: "As a part of celebrating my heritage and revitalizing important traditional customs that form my identity, I believe I have earned my tattoos. I am a beautiful, strong young woman. I am a mother, a wife, a daughter, a friend, and an active community member. I reclaim the traditional customs as mine, I re-own them as a part of who I am."
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Star Westwood: "We still have some of our culture, but some things are slowly dying. Having tattoos helps us keep our culture alive. . . . . My tattoos represent my dad and my dad's dad. The ones closest to my wrists represent my sisters."
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National Tattoo Day
July 17 is National Tattoo Day. To celebrate, we present some images from Reawakening Our Ancestors' Lines: Revitalizing Inuit Traditional Tattooing, compiled by Angela Hovak Johnston, co-founder with Marjorie Tahbone of the Inuit Tattoo Revitalization Project, with photographs by Inuit photographer Cora DeVos, and published in Iqaluit, Nunavut by Inhabit Media Inc. in 2017.
For thousands of years, Inuit have practiced the traditional art of tattooing. Created the ancient way, with bone needles and caribou sinew soaked in seal oil, sod, or soot, these tattoos were an important tradition for many Inuit women, symbols etched on their skin that connected them to their families and communities. But with the rise of missionaries and residential schools in the North, the tradition of tattooing was almost lost. In 2005, when Angela Hovak Johnston heard that the last Inuk woman tattooed in the old way had died, she set out to tattoo herself in tribute to this ancient custom and learn how to tattoo others. What was at first a personal quest became a project to bring the art of traditional tattooing back to Inuit women across Nunavut.
Collected in this book are photos and stories from more than two dozen women who participated in Johnston's project. Together, these women have united to bring to life an ancient tradition, reawakening their ancestors' lines and sharing this knowledge with future generations. Hovak Johnston writes: "Never again will these Inuit traditions be close to extinction, or only a part of history you read about in books. This is my mission."
Reawakening Our Ancestors' Lines forms part of our Indigenous America Literature Collection.
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Angela Hovak Johnston (right) with her cousin Janelle Angulalik and her aunt Millie Navalik Angulalik.
View other posts from our Indigenous America Literature Collection.
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foone · 1 year ago
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why are printers so hated? it's simple:
computers are good at computering. they are not good at the real world.
the biggest problems in computers, the ones that have had to change the most over the time they've existed, are the parts that deal with the real world. The keyboard, the mouse, the screen. every computer needs these, but they involve interacting with the real world. that's a problem. that's why they get replaced so much.
now, printers: printers have some of the most complex real-world interaction. they need to deposit ink on paper in 2 dimensions, and that results in at least three ways it can go on right from the start. (this is why 3D printers are just 2D printers that can go wrong in another whole dimension)
scanners fall into many of the same problems printers have, but fewer people have scanners, and they're not as cost-optimized. But they are nearly as annoying.
This is also why you can make a printer better by cutting down on the number of moving elements: laser printers are better than inkjets, because they only need to move in one dimension, and their ink is a powder, not a liquid. and the best-behaved printers of all are thermal printers: no ink and the head doesn't move. That's why every receipt printer is a thermal printer, because they need that shit to work all the time so they can sell shit. And thermal is the most reliable way to do that.
But yeah, cost-optimization is also a big part of why printers are such finicky unreliable bastards: you don't want to pay much for them. Who is excited for all the printing they're gonna be doing? basically nobody. But people get forced to have a printer because they gotta print something, for school or work or the government or whatever. So they want the cheapest thing that'll work. They're not shopping on features and functionality and design, they want something that costs barely anything, and can fucking PRINT. anything else is an optional bonus.
And here's the thing: there's a fundamental limit of how much you can optimize an inkjet printer, and we got near to it in like the late 90s. Every printer since then has just been a tad smaller, a tad faster, and added some gimmicks like printing from WIFI or bluetooth instead of needing to plug in a cable.
And that's the worst place to be in, for a computer component. The "I don't care how fancy it is, just give me one that works" zone. This is why you can buy a keyboard for 20$ and a mouse for 10$ and they both work plenty fine for 90% of users. They're objectively shit compared to the ones in the 60-150$ range, but do they work? yep. So that's what people get.
Printers fell into that zone long, long ago, when people stopped getting excited about "desktop publishing". So with printers shoved into the "make them as cheap as possible" zone, they have gotten exponentially shittier. Can you cut costs by 5$ a printer by making them jam more often? good. make them only last a couple years to save a buck or two per unit? absolutely. Can you make the printer cost 10$ less and make that back on the proprietary ink cartridges? oh, they've been doing that since Billy Clinton was in office.
It's the same place floppy disks were in in about 2000. CD-burners were not yet cheap enough, USB flash drives didn't exist yet (but were coming), modems weren't fast enough yet to copy stuff over the internet, superfloppies hadn't taken over like some hoped, and memory cards were too expensive and not everyone had a drive for them. So we still needed floppy disks, but at the same time this was a technology that hadn't changed in nearly 20 years. So people were tired of paying out the nose for them... the only solution? cut corners. I have floppy disks from 1984 that read perfectly, but a shrinkwrapped box of disks from 1999 will have over half the disks failed. They cut corners on the material quality, the QA process, the cleaning cloth inside the disk, everything they could. And the disks were shit as a result.
So, printers are in that particular note of the death-spiral where they've reached the point of "no one likes or cares about this technology, but it's still required so it's gone to shit". That's why they are so annoying, so unreliable, so fucking crap.
So, here's the good news:
You can still buy a better printer, and it will work far better. Laser printers still exist, and LED printers work the same way but even cheaper. They're still more expensive than inkjets (especially if you need color), but if you have to print stuff, they're a godsend. Way more reliable.
This is not a stable equilibrium. Printers cannot limp along in this terrible state forever. You know why I brought up floppy disk there? (besides the fact I'm a giant floppy disk nerd) because floppy disks GOT REPLACED. Have you used one this decade? CD-Rs and USB drives and internet sharing came along and ate the lunch of floppy disks, so much so that it's been over a decade since any more have been made. The same will happen to (inkjet) printers, eventually. This kind of clearly-broken situation cannot hold. It'll push people to go paperless, for companies to build cheaper alternatives to take over from the inkjets, or someone will come up with a new, more reliable printer based on some new technology that's now cheap enough to use in printers. Yeah, it sucks right now, but it can't last.
So, in conclusion: Printers suck, but this is both an innate problem caused by them having to deal with so much fucking Real World, and a local minimum of reliability that we're currently stuck in. Eventually we'll get out of this valley on the graph and printers will bother people a lot less.
Random fun facts about printing of the past and their local minimums:
in the hot metal type era, not only would the whole printing process expose you to lead, the most common method of printing text was the linotype, which could go wrong in a very fun way: if the next for a line wasn't properly justified (filling out the whole row), it could "squirt", and lead would escape through gaps in the type matrix. This would result in molten lead squirting out of the machine, possibly onto the operator. Anecdotally, linotype operators would sometimes recognize each other on the street because of the telltale spots on their forearms where they had white splotches where no hair grew, because they got bad lead burns. This type of printing remained in use until the 80s.
Another fun type of now-retired printers are drum printers, a type of line printer. These work something like a typewriter or dot-matrix printer, except the elements extend across the entire width of the paper. So instead of printing a character at time by smacking it into the paper, the whole line got smacked nearly at once. The problem is that if the paper jammed and the printer continued to try to print, that line of the paper would be repeatedly struck at high speed, creating a lot of heat. This worry created the now-infamous Linux error: "lp0 on fire". This was displayed when the error signals from a parallel printer didn't make sense... and it was a real worry. A high speed printer could definitely set the paper on fire, though this was rare.
So... one thing to be grateful about current shitty inkjet printers: they are very unlikely to burn anything, especially you.
(because before they could do that they'd have to work, at least a little, first, and that's very unlikely)
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jimxnslight · 8 months ago
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Fool's Gold || Part I
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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
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<< masterlist || next part >>
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“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.  
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A/N: comments, reblogs, and likes are appreciated!
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