Fuck I have so many fics to read omg. I’m back. And ready. And happy. And excited. And I’ve got work tomorrow. Fuck and that means I’m gonna get harassed by the man that works at the bottle shop next door. Omg that man is so weird it was fine at the start but now it’s just insane. I’ll maybe go on a rant about it one day.
I have two more days until i can read follow at your own risk part two. I’m starting to have withdrawals and I keep calling people salmons ??? Why??? idk but I fucking hate work
I love when people put humour into their fics like it genuinely makes me laugh out loud IDK WHY even just thinks like reader hitting their head makes me ctfu
BIGBANG & FRIENDS OCTOBER CHALLENGE - OCTOBER 1
Summary: Halloween is your favorite time of year, so naturally Jiyong plays along anytime you want to do anything dealing with the month of spooks.
Word Count: 1.5k
Warnings: Mentions of murder (in a fake dinner party way), some drinking, lots of fluff
Author’s Notes: Here we are friends, the start of October. The start of our bigbang and friends writing challenge! What an honor it is to be kicking us off. This is just a silly little thing that’s hopefully good. I’ll be real, this month while my favorite, is a bit hard this year so just be nice if it sucks and tell me it was good. Ok thanks love you bye.
October was always a very busy month in your life. Or it had been, until you’d moved to South Korea. Sure, they’d started embracing Halloween but it was more so drink specials and a party here and there at a friends house. No pumpkin patches. No apple picking. No haunted houses. You’d adjusted, of course. You’d even met your boyfriend at a Halloween party. It wasn’t all bad, it was just different.
To his credit, Jiyong always did what he could to bring the holiday to life for you. Pumpkin carving was a favorite of his now and he’d always make sure it was part of your celebrations going forward. This year, you two were hosting a murder mystery dinner for your friends. Between Jiyong’s tour schedule and your work schedule, this had been the easiest and best option.
You were currently busting your ass to get the dinner completed in time for the night's festivities and Jiyong, who had no kitchen skills stood helplessly at the kitchen island.
“Can I help?”
“No.” You didn’t even bother to look up from your spot at the stove.
“Come on. Surely there’s something I can do.” He whined.
Jiyong didn’t like being bested. He also didn’t like being useless, but cooking wasn’t his area of expertise and he knew that. That didn’t mean he couldn’t at least stir something or set the table. You opened the oven, letting out a frustrated sigh as you whiled your pastries to rise.
“You know. I could use some heat.” You turned to face him, arms folded. “Think you could use your dragon powers and get me some flames?” Jiyong raised a brow and made his way over to you.
“I’m not a handy man.” He looked at the oven. “Why not turn the heat up?”
“Or you could summon some flames.” You shrugged. “But I guess if you can’t summon flames directly from hell, store-bought is fine.”
“What? How does one buy flames from a store?”
“Talking about the pastries. They’ll never cook in time. Can you please go get some from the store?”
“Me?!” I’ll be run down in the streets. You’ll never see me again if I go out there.” You rolled your eyes at your boyfriend's dramatics. While he wasn’t wrong, he had a habit of going out alone to get food or shop all the time.
“Wear a hat. Nobody will ever know it’s the G Dragon.” Jiyong let out a sigh, but ultimately followed your suggestion. Picking out a beanie and covering his freshly dyed hair before heading out the door.
You used the time alone to get the rest of the food done and into serving dishes. The house had luckily already been decorated, not that there was much to do considering it was a murder mystery party. All that was left was to get into costume. Everyone who’d been invited had been given a card with their role and what a basic guideline on what to wear.
Just as you had put the finishing touches on your outfit - a twenties flapper dress complete with a feather headband, the front door opened.
“Jagiya, I return with store bought flames!” Jiyong’s voice rang out. You rolled your eyes, slid your feet into a pair of heels and walked out of the bedroom. “Damn.” He sat the pastries down, making his way over to you.
“You like?”
“Very much so.” Jiyong leaned in for a kiss but you pushed him away.
“Oh no, no. Our friends will be here in five. You need to go get dressed, your outfit is on the bed.”
Jiyong let out a huff, but made his way to the bedroom. You inspected the pastries he bought, deeming them worthy enough of the dinner party and sat them out on a tray, hiding the plastic evidence that you didn’t make them before turning the oven off. Just as you’d sat the last of the items on the table there was a knock at the door. Jiyong, ever the diva, had still not emerged from the bedroom. With a slight eyeroll, you checked your headband, making sure it hadn’t fallen, smoothed out your dress, and made your way to the front door.
“Hey Daesung! You look great.” You pulled your friend in for a hug before stepping aside to let him and his date inside.
Dae headed towards the bar, grabbing a drink, pleased with himself for being the first one there. You hadn’t had much faith he’d show up, considering his early bed time but Jiyong had assured you if it was important to you he’d be there.
“The house looks great. Did Jiyong help at all?”
“Of course I did. I even cooked.” Jiyong smirked as he moved to stand beside you. When had he even gotten there?
“You did?” Daesung raised a brow.
“I summoned flames from hell.” He grinned proudly.
“Sure you did.” Seunghyun’s voice boomed over the noise. Never one to knock, he was just as bad as Jiyong, popping out of nowhere.
“When did you even get here?” Daesung turned to hug the older man, Jiyong moving to follow suit.
“What? Me? I live here.” Daesung raised a brow, turning to look at you and you shrugged. It was best to just play along with Seunghyun.
The rest of the guests filed in shortly after and you ushered everyone into the dining room. After going over the rules a third time because Jiyong and Seunghyun were too busy making jokes about their suspenders to pay attention, the game had officially started. The rest of the evening was spent with everyone talking in character, trying to figure out who the murderer was. You were certain it was obvious, and as the writer of the cards, you weren’t allowed to participate in the voting. You groaned every time the wrong person got picked, finally giving in during dessert to announce the game as over.
“Okay, so who was it?” Chaerin raised a brow, taking a sip from her wine glass.
“Killer, please reveal yourself.” You giggled, the effects of the cocktails circulating that night finally catching up to you.
Jiyong stood up slowly, his hands holding onto his suspenders as he rocked back and forth on his heels. A smug smirk fell across his face and you hid your smile behind your glass. He didn’t need to know how irresistible you found him in times like this, especially in that outfit.
“Jiyong? No way!” Youngbae yelled from across the table. Jiyong raised a brow, turning to face him.
“What do you mean no way?”
“Why’d you vote me?” Youngbae crossed his arms, leaning back in his chair.
“Easy target?”
“Oh, just you wait.”
“Ya!” Jiyong sprang from his spot, hiding behind you as Youngbae moved to stand up, causing the entire table to break into laughter.
“Can’t believe you’d make him the murderer when he’s scared of me.” Youngbae pouted, sitting back in his seat.
“Of course I’m scared of you, you're the third best fighter.” Chaerin rolled her eyes, moving to stand up.
“Tonight was fun. Please, let’s do something like this again sometime.” She kissed your cheeks before pulling you into a hug.
“Oh for sure. I have many ideas ready to go.” You grinned before walking her to the door. “Text me when you get home.”
Everyone started piling out shortly after, the guys staying a bit longer which was fine with you. The guys had much to celebrate with the Coachella announcement and Seunghyun’s album finally being announced as well.
Deciding to take advantage of the rare bit of time all four guys were together, you made your way to the kitchen and poured everyone a shot of soju. You carefully carried the drinks to the living room and sat them down on the coffee table.
“Jagiya? What have you got there?” Jiyong smirked, pulling you to him.
“Celebratory shots.” You grinned as you made yourself comfortable next to him.
“For me?” Seunghyun pointed to himself and you nodded.
“Yes, and for the grand return of BigBang.”
“I’ll cheers to that.” Youngbae smiled, reaching for a glass. Everyone grabbed their glasses, downing them quickly.
The guys all said their goodbyes, hugs and promises to call soon were exchanged as you and Jiyong walked everyone out the door. Once they were gone, you slipped your heels off, sighing in relieve as you plopped back down on the couch.
“Jagiya?”
“Hm?” Your head turned towards Jiyong.
“Did you make me the murderer because I’m G-Dragon?”
“Dragon’s kill humans all the time. It was a very logical and thought out plan.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“You love me.” Jiyong looked up at the ceiling, a brow raised as he pretended to be deep in thought.
“Debaitable.”
“Jiyong!” You laughed, pouncing on him. “Tell me you love me.”
“I love you, Jagiya, very much.” He pulled you in for a kiss before wrapping his arms around you and lifting you off the couch.
“What are you doing?”
“Taking you to bed to show you how much I love you.” He rolled his eyes as he made his way down the hall to the bedroom. “Happy Halloween, Jagiya.”
summary: Your youngest daughter finally follows in her sister's footsteps as a troublemaker - terrifying you and your husband in the process
A/N: she's backkkkkk - revived by a night in paris with the hubby and wifey!! i'll probably share some content from the concert but my heart was longing for some gdad. so please enjoy xx
“What about this one?”
You turned, running a hand over the silk fabric as it rippled against your body.
“Hmm,” Jiyong tilted his head, smirk tugging at his lips. “Are you wearing any underwear?”
He was sprawled across the bed, hands folded behind his head, eyes fixed entirely on you. His phone buzzed against his stomach, screen lighting up over and over, but he hadn’t checked it once since you’d stepped out of the wardrobe in a bra begging for his help.
Which you were coming to realise wasn’t very helpful.
Your husband was renowned for his impeccable fashion choices, a trendsetter even when he’d show up to the school run in a dressing gown.
But he was easily distracted.
And when it came to you dashing around your bedroom in tight skirts or sheer dresses, he’d been unable to focus on the task at hand.
You scoffed and threw your hands down. “Ji, this is the one time I’m asking you for your brutal fashion criticism. Be mean. Tell me it looks bad.”
“But I can’t!” he laughed, springing his arms wide, “Jagi, I can’t help if you look good in everything.”
You shot him a scowl and stalked back into the wardrobe. “Go back to doomscrolling on Instagram.”
His chuckle followed you as you stared miserably at the rows of clothes. You’d been asked to perform for a charity show and it would be the first time you were appearing on stage since having Angel. The pressure of picking the right outfit pressed on you harder than the silk straps digging into your shoulders.
As your thoughts turned to your children you paused, ears tuning into the quiet atmosphere around you.
It was too quiet.
They’d left you and Jiyong alone for too long.
Diva was definitely up to something.
Right on cue a loud clang echoed down the hall and your shoulders dropped from their tense position.
Ah, there it was.
You could hear Jiyong and Diva talking, their voices growing louder as they appeared behind you. He was holding Diva under the arms like a misbehaving kitten, depositing her in the entrance to your wardrobe.
“Stay with Eomma,” he warned her with a pointed brow before looking up at you. “I’ve just got to clean something up... Oh, try that one on, Jagi!” He pointed at a hanging dress before fleeing.
You stared at Diva and she stared right back at you.
“So what’d you do then?” You finally asked with a sigh, pulling the dress from the hanger as you turned to face her.
She held onto the door handle, swinging back and forth as she puffed out her cheeks. “Nothing!” She huffed, jamming her fingers into the little keyhole. “It were Jemi.” She said with a mumble, as if the front of her top wasn’t covered with water.
You knew for a fact it wasn’t her sister - who was sleeping peacefully in her crib. But it was Diva’s new go-to-answer.
Who climbed the counter and ate all the cookies? Jemi.
Who tore all the houseplants out of their pots? Jemi.
And now, her current mission was filling the cat's water bowl herself. Even though you and Jiyong always asked her to wait for one of you to help her.
It seemed like her task was unsuccessful by the way she looked drenched in most of it.
“Jemi barely crawls yet, sweetheart.” You reminded her. “You’ll have to go back to blaming Zoa and Iye for now.”
She stopped swinging and threw her hand out. “But she’s walking!”
“Walking?” Your eyes widened. If she was walking you’d definitely know about it.
Jiyong got the chubby baby up every morning and put her on the living room carpet, trying to coax her into moving with trails of baby snacks and promises of teething toys.
She seemed content to just sit there and wait until he caved.
After all, why would she bother moving if he always carried her around anyway?
His favourite fashion accessory was a ridiculously expensive custom Chanel baby carrier. If those two were leaving the house, Angel was somewhere comfortably tucked beneath chiffon black and white bows.
Diva gave up her defense and wandered over to a pair of trousers hanging by the door, tugging at the string of diamonds stitched into the waist.
“Pretty,”
You softened, pulling them free. “I forgot I even had these…” you pressed the fabric to your leg, memories flooding back of Jiyong surprising you with a custom pair to wear on stage.
Of course, he had a matching set.
“Hmm,” you tilted your head and then looked at your daughter. “You know, maybe I should start taking your fashion advice over Appa’s.”
“I know!” She nodded with a grin and the two of you giggled.
𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪
“Come on,” Jiyong cooed, crouched low with Angel balanced between his palms. “Just one step for Appa.”
From your seat in front of the mirror, you caught the scene over your stylist’s shoulder. She tugged your head this way and that, pins clinking into place, but it was impossible not to be entertained.
“She’s not going to,” you sang lightly as Angel drew her feet up again like the floor was lava. Or, more likely, just a lot colder than her father’s arms.
“Put your feet down,” he tutted gently. She kept her pink-socked toes hovering stubbornly above the ground. “Aish, you just want to be held all the time, don’t you?”
He scooped her back against his chest with a resigned little sigh, settling into the sofa and rubbing her back. You knew he loved it, though. The way his hand fussed with fixing her collar gave him away.
“Why the sudden rush to have her walking?” you asked, wincing when your hair was yanked a little too tight.
“I have plans,” he murmured in response.
“What plans?”
“Nothing!”
He gave you a cheery smile in the mirror and you narrowed your eyes but let it go as Diva made her presence known, coming to stand beside you in the make up chair.
“When were I walking Eomma?”
She was pulling on the string of diamonds hanging from your belt again, twisting it and watching as they caught in the light.
“Oh gosh,” You laughed as you thought about when your eldest first found her footing. “You were up and running by nine months old. Appa and I couldn’t keep up with you.”
Diva grinned, clearly impressed with herself. “I were very fast.”
“Yes,” You and Jiyong answered at the same time, sharing a smile.
Although Angel was over a year old now, she’d get there eventually. Every baby was different.
The paediatrician called her simply “lazy” and your husband had bristled at the word, immediately rebranding her as “pampered”.
An assistant poked her head in to call you to the stage and you exhaled loudly. You squeezed Diva tightly, muting her protests with kisses before descending upon Jiyong and Angel.
“One more, one more,” Jiyong muttered, lips puckered and you obliged, giving him one last kiss before heading towards the door.
“Be good for Appa!” You called behind your back as you were ushered out.
“We love you!”
Jiyong then sighed and leaned back looking at Diva. She eyed the door you had just left through.
“Don’t even think about it.” he warned, “I still have your little harness bag. Don’t make me use it, Princess.”
“No!” She stomped dramatically at the light threat, running to hide behind a chair. She knew she should have cut the straps to that damn thing the last time she had her craft scissors.
𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪
Despite keeping his two girls confined to your dressing room, Jiyong was finding it very hard to maintain his title of fun Appa, devoted husband, and famous idol.
His eyes flitted between the tv currently screening the performance, the baby laid out on the playmat, and Diva who kept lingering too close to the exit. It was like a revolving door, assistants and staff running in and out, grabbing and moving things, he was so close to just locking it and telling everyone else to just fuck off.
He wanted to watch you.
And god he was exhausted.
Jiyong had been known to sleep walk when he was anxious and with his tour ongoing, the two of you were waking periodically throughout the early hours of the morning to find Angel somehow wedged between you or on Diva’s carpet, fast asleep.
It was stressing him out to no end, worried about her safety but you reminded him she didn’t exactly move yet.
Although, the moment she did choose to finally start moving on her own, he’d have to strap himself to the bed to stop his unconscious Appa brain from picking her up in his sleep.
“No I can’t do that date,” he muttered into his phone, eyes glued to the monitor. “Mhm. Paris would be good. We like Paris,”
The girls were playing together behind him, his eyes turning back every so often to check on them.
Just then the door burst open and he jolted, spinning as a flash of light blinded him. A small gaggle of paparazzi descended, snapping all the photos they could as he shoved them out, throwing his arm up to shield their view from his girls.
“Hey!” He yelled at them, phone dropped to his side as he pushed their cameras back.
Fury burned through the exhaustion.
“Don’t you have any respect? Get the fuck away from my family!”
They backed off when he yelled for security and he watched them flee down the corridor with a scoff. He lifted his phone back to his ear.
“Yeah, yeah, we’re fine,” he muttered into the receiver at last, voice flat as he turned back toward the dressing room. “Let’s just make sure to increase security. I want at least two per family member.”
He slammed the door behind him, clicking the lock shut with a sigh and then looked to Diva who was on the floor, head down as she counted to herself.
Jiyong stared.
The phone fell to the floor.
“Where’s Jemi?”
Diva glanced up, wide-eyed, and gave the tiniest shrug.
𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪
You returned to chaos.
Security swarmed your dressing room, walkie-talkies blaring, men and women darting in every direction.
And in the middle of it all - your husband sat on the sofa, crying. His arms locked around Diva like if he loosened his grip even slightly, she’d vanish too.
“It’s ok,” you whispered, crouching in front of him, clutching his knee.
“It’s not though, is it?” His voice cracked, muffled against Diva’s hair. “It’s my fault. You’re going to leave me, and then Jia will hate me and I’ll be some sad, lonely drunk... I just want my cuddly baby back.”
The words broke into a fresh round of sobs, and your lips trembled as you stared at him.
You wanted her back too.
The moment you’d come off stage, you’d been met with pale, anxious faces. You’d run, furious, through the halls as they locked down the venue. But when you saw your husband like this - crumpled and broken, clinging to your daughter - you knew blame could wait.
Right now, you had to hold each other up.
“We’ll find her,” You croaked, “She can’t have gone far,”
He lifted his head, eyes red, nose raw. “She can’t even crawl yet, Y/n.”
You shared a teary glance.
You knew what he was implying. The fact that no one had found her yet, even if it had only been mere moments.
Someone might have taken her.
There was no way she could have escaped that far by tummy shuffling.
His words made you choke on a sob and you stood, climbing forward and onto his other knee. His arm immediately wrapped around you as you silently cried into his neck, you didn’t want Diva to see her parents like this.
“You’re crying, Eomma,” Diva mumbled with a little frown and Jiyong drew her closer, hand cradling her head to his chest as he held both of you. “It were just a game,” She said, cheeks squished.
“A game?” You sniffed, wiping your face as you looked at her more clearly.
Diva nodded, trying to pull away from her father but he had a strong grip. “Hide and seek.”
You inhaled sharply, “W-what?” You sat straighter and gently grasped her hands in yours. “Jia, sweetheart, what do you mean? Where’s your sister?”
“I not found her yet! Appa grabbed me first. And she's kinda fast too…” Diva huffed, looking to the side with a pout.
“Baby, she can’t - ” Jiyong was shaking his head but you were already pulling out of his embrace, lifting Diva and setting her on her feet.
“Can you find her for me? Which way did she go?” You asked, kneeling in front of her, eyes wide with hope.
“That’s cheating Eomma. I have to find her.”
“Jia, Jia,” You smoothed down her hair. “Appa will buy you whatever you want. Show us which way she went.”
Diva smiled and then pointed to a vent on the wall. You stared at it in disbelief.
Are you kidding me?
Those Kwon genes really were dangerous.
Jiyong leaped to his feet, crashing to his knees in front of the metal grate. With the strength of a desperate father, he tore the thing straight from the wall, not bothering with unlatching it.
“Jiyong!” You snapped. “You can’t just go in there. You might make it collapse.”
“Our baby could be in there, Y/n!” He shot back, already crawling inside on his hands and knees.
“I’ll go,” Diva volunteered, tugging on your pants.
“Absolutely not.” You snatched her hand. “You’re glued to me.”
She sighed but didn’t resist.
Jiyong hadn’t gone far when he froze with a gasp.
Your heart plummeted. “W-what?!”
Then his voice softened into an awed coo. “My baby…look at you!”
“She’s in there?!” You ducked down, trying to see, but all you caught was the view of his generous backside in tight Levi jeans.
“She’s standing!” he laughed. “Oh, she’s walking! That’s it, come to Appa, Princess.”
“She’s walking? Move your big head!” you snapped, but he was already shuffling backwards.
You retreated, dragging Diva with you as he emerged. With a grunt, he toppled back onto the floor - and Angel stumbled out, tiny legs wobbly, before collapsing into his lap.
You surged forward, wrapping your arms around them both, Diva still tethered to your hand.
Angel was giggling as you peppered her with a thousand kisses, her Appa doing the same on the other side of her face.
Then a little throat cleared.
You glanced at Diva, who planted her palm on Jiyong’s shoulder with a solemn expression. “So… can I have a pony now?”
𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪
“I can’t believe we’re allowing this,” you sighed, thumbing through endless photos of horses on your phone.
Beside you in bed, Jiyong only nodded, eyes glued to the baby monitor balanced on his lap. Hours had passed since Angel’s dramatic escape, but he hadn’t let her out of his sight since.
He’d wanted her in the bed with you two but you reminded him she was safer tucked between her four wooden bars.
“Where are we even going to keep it?”
“The garden,” he shrugged, running a finger over his lip as he watched the monitor. Angel was lying down, occasionally kicking her blanket as she soothed herself to sleep. “I’ll have a stable built.”
You rolled your eyes.
As if Diva couldn’t be more of a Princess - she already had a real diamond tiara.
And now she was getting a horse.
“God, they’re so spoiled,” you muttered, saving a picture of a Shetland pony anyway.
“Yep,” Jiyong said proudly. “They’re my girls.” Then he looked over, smirk tugging his lips, and swept an arm around you, pulling you onto his chest. “You’re my girl too. Anything you want while I’m feeling sentimental and generous?”
“A vacation,” you mumbled into his shoulder, feeling your feet ache from hours in heels. “Somewhere with snow so they can’t run away from us.”
It still felt surreal - Angel was walking now.
Maybe she had been for a while.
Maybe Diva hadn’t been lying all those times she’d blamed her…
You felt his grin against your skin as he kissed your cheek, lingering. “Hmm. Not a bad idea. You’re clingier when you’re cold. And I can think of a few ways to keep you warm…”
His lips slid down your jaw to your neck. Your eyelids drooped, ready to melt, when something on the monitor made you bolt upright.
“Oh my god.”
“Jagi, I know I’m good, but I’ve barely touched you yet,” he teased, trying to pull you back down.
“Not you,” you hissed, snatching the monitor from his lap.
He shot upright. “What? What is it?”
The two of you watched a little figure storm into Angel’s room, the door flying open at her arrival. Diva came thundering through, dragging her enormous pink beanbag behind her, parking it right in front of the crib.
Angel seemed to be expecting this, slowly climbing to her feet and holding the bars for support.
You then watched with wide eyes as Diva launched herself over the side of the cot, landing ungracefully beside her sister.
“Is she - “ Jiyong cut himself off when he witnessed his eldest daughter grab her baby sister, heaving her up and out of the crib, dropping her straight onto the soft landing.
She soon followed with a roll and flop, and then the girls ran out of the room together.
You slowly turned your head towards Jiyong in disbelief. “So that’s how she’s been getting out…”
“Hmm.” He pressed his lips together, failing to hide a smile. “So it wasn’t me, then.”
“I guess not.”
He collapsed against the headboard, covering his mouth to muffle a giggle. You bit your lip, torn between disapproval and awe.
“Do we… tell them off?” he asked, listening to the faint thunder of little feet down the hallway.
“They’re probably going to play in Jia’s room.” You exhaled, checking the time on your phone. “...We’ll give them twenty minutes.”
“We’re good parents,” he said with a short nod, flicking the monitor off.
“Oh the best.”
𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪
the blue hair is just too good. i couldn't stay away. i have a few more posts planned and in the works!! i've missed you all. im sorry for being away for so long :((
this series is purely ridiculous, self-indulgent, chaos but i hope my delusions can make someone else smile <3
why is there NO gd x reader fics on ao3💔💔 it’s literally all fucking gd amd seungri mpreg like THE AMOUNT OF GD AND him FICS IVR SEEN IS RIDICULOUS WHY IS THAT SO POPULAR OVER THERE???? I’ll stick to tumblr omg
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