#gdad

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

love always,

mash xxx