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hazelira · 28 days ago

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up, up!

Jake leaned against the front door frame, arms crossed as he checked the time on his watch. His usual composed expression softened with the slightest hint of amusement—and maybe just a little bit of exasperation. Grocery shopping. That’s all this was supposed to be. A quick run, in and out. But here he was, waiting in the foyer like he was about to walk a red carpet, except the show's real star hadn’t even made her entrance yet.

The distant sound of your voice floated down the hall.

“I know, baby, but you can’t wear all the tutus.”

A high-pitched whine followed.

Jake pinched the bridge of his nose, suppressing a chuckle. His daughter—his bossy baby—was already making demands before she had even stepped foot outside. Like mother, like daughter.

And then, finally, the moment came.

You emerged, holding your toddler’s tiny hand. She waddled beside you, her pink tutu bouncing with every determined little step she took. Her chubby cheeks were slightly flushed, her dark lashes still heavy from sleep, and her messy baby hairs framed her face like a crown.

Jake’s brow arched.

“…Are you serious?”

Your daughter blinked up at him, completely unaware of the sheer ridiculousness of her outfit. A complete, fluffy pink tutu, glittery socks that barely stayed up, and a matching pink cardigan with a bunny embroidered on the pocket. She looked like a tiny ballerina who had just rolled out of bed and decided today was her day.

“She refused to get out of bed without it,” you sighed, adjusting the packaged diaper bag slung over your shoulder. “She threw a fit, Yunie. You know how she gets.”

Jake exhaled slowly, his gaze flicking between the two of you: his exhausted but beautiful wife and his daughter, who looked like she had just stumbled onto the set of a ballet recital but had no clue what was happening.

“Sweetie, do you even know where we’re going?” he asked, crouching slightly to meet her big, sleepy eyes.

His daughter sucked on her thumb for a second, deep in thought, before deciding it didn’t matter. Instead, she toddled forward and wrapped her arms around his leg.

“Daddy, up up.”

That was it. That was the final order.

Jake sighed dramatically, though his lips twitched as he bent down to scoop her into his arms. Her tiny hands fisted his blazer, her cheek pressing against his shoulder, and he felt her let out the most minor, sleepiest sigh.

“Bossy little baby,” he murmured, kissing her forehead.

You grinned, stepping closer to adjust her tutu so it didn’t get squished in his hold. “Well, what do you expect? She’s your daughter.”

Jake rolled his eyes, but how he held her—gentle, firm, completely wrapped around her little finger—told you he wouldn’t have it any other way.

With a resigned sigh, he shifted his daughter comfortably in one arm, then reached for your hand with the other.

“Alright, princess. Let’s go get some groceries.”

And just like that, the Sim family exited the door.

The drive to the grocery store was mostly quiet, except for the occasional backseat babbling. Jake glanced at the rearview mirror, watching his daughter absentmindedly gnaw on her milk bottle, her eyes still heavy with sleep. She was oblivious to how ridiculous she looked, pink tutu fluffing around her tiny legs like she was heading to a gala rather than a supermarket.

Conversely, you were scrolling through your phone, double-checking the grocery list you’d made.

“You know,” Jake started, lazily resting one hand on the steering wheel while his other tapped against the gear shift, “we could’ve just left her at home with my mom.”

A scoff left your lips as you turned to him. “She would’ve burned the house down.”

Jake let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “She’s a toddler, not a monster.”

“She’s our toddler, Yunie. She was ready to throw hands over a tutu.”

At that, he gave a single nod. Fair point.

From the backseat, a soft whine.

“Pink,” your daughter mumbled as if offended that she wasn’t included in the conversation about her beloved outfit.

Jake sighed, flicking on the turn signal as he pulled into the grocery store parking lot. “Yeah, yeah, we know. Tutu supremacy.”

When you unbuckled her from the car seat, she reached out for her dad again. “Up, up.”

Heeseung gave you a look. “You walked to the car by yourself.”

She blinked, utterly unbothered. “Daddy, up up.”

He scoffed, but there was no real fight in him. Jake wasn’t not going to carry her. So, with a deep sigh—his signature chill but entirely at her mercy Dad moved—he hoisted her onto his hip.

With one arm securely wrapped around his tiny dictator, he grabbed a shopping cart and nodded for you to lead the way inside.

The moment you stepped into the store, your daughter perked up.

Her sleepy haze was gone.

Now, she was pointing at everything—bright-coloured cereal boxes, neatly stacked fruits, random strangers who weren’t paying attention to her but who she seemed to think needed her approval.

You reached for a pack of strawberries, tossing them into the cart. “Yunie, can you grab—”

Before you could even finish, Jake sighed. “Yeah, I got it.”

He knew. He always knew. You needed milk. It was an unspoken rule in your household that there had to be at least two cartons in the fridge at all times, and after years of grocery runs together, he was already making his way toward the dairy aisle like it was second nature.

You watched him go, but your daughter latched onto him, babbling about absolutely nothing.

And then—

A tiny gasp.

She wiggled in Jake’s arms, her chubby hands smacking against his chest.

“Daddy! Look!”

She pointed dramatically to the pinkiest thing she could see—a massive display of Hello Kitty snacks, cookies, and juice boxes.

Jake looked at the shelves, then at you, then back at his daughter, who was practically vibrating in his arms.

“You don’t even *know* what that is,” he deadpanned.

She was unbothered. “It’s pink.”

You bit back a laugh, giving him a knowing smirk. “She makes a solid argument.”

Jake stared at you, then at the display, and then at his daughter, who was now blinking at him with those big, round, pleading eyes.

“…You’re killing me,” he muttered under his breath before grabbing a pack of pink Hello Kitty cookies and tossing them into the cart.

Your daughter clapped her hands in victory. “Pink tutu and cookies!”

“Unbelievable,” Jake groaned, but there was no real bite. He pressed a quick kiss to her temple before sighing dramatically. “What have I gotten myself into?”

You grinned, leaning in to peck his cheek. “Welcome to fatherhood, love.”

And just like that, Jake accepted his fate—wrapped around the little finger of his tiny, bossy ballerina, pink tutu and all.

As the grocery run continued, Jake found himself trapped in what could only be described as a pink-fueled hostage situation.

Your daughter, still securely in his arms, had taken complete control. Jake obeyed every aisle she pointed at. He sighed before grabbing every snack she eyed. You, meanwhile, were watching it all unfold with barely contained amusement.

“Yunie, she doesn’t need that many cookies,” you murmured, crossing your arms as you eyed the growing collection of pink-themed snacks in the cart.

Jake, looking thoroughly exhausted despite it only being twenty minutes into the trip, ran a hand through his hair. "Tell her that.”

You turned to your daughter, who was now happily snacking on a teething biscuit you had packed. She blinked at you, completely innocent—except she wasn’t. You knew that tiny brain of hers was already scheming.

“Sweetheart,” you said gently, tucking a stray baby hair behind her ear. “We’re only getting one treat today, okay?”

She considered your words for a moment, tilting her head. Then, slowly, she turned back to Jake and, in the softest, most manipulative voice possible, mumbled:

“…Daddy?”

You nearly snorted. Oh, she knew what she was doing.

Jake stared at her like he was fighting for his life. “Don’t daddy me,” he warned, shifting her in his arms.

But the damage was done.

She reached up, patting his cheek with her tiny hand. Then—the move that sealed his fate forever—she rested her head against his shoulder and nuzzled into him.

You swore you saw your husband malfunction on the spot.

His shoulders tensed, his grip on the cart tightened, and he let out a long, suffering sigh. Then, without a single word, he grabbed a second pack of cookies and tossed it into the cart.

You gaped at him. “JAKE.”

“She’s—” He gestured wildly to the tiny human in his arms, now humming happily like she hadn’t just emotionally manipulated her father. “She’s so small! How does she have this much power?”

You couldn’t hold back your laughter anymore, shaking your head as you pushed the cart toward the checkout.

Wondered what your favourite snack or that one candy/chocolate/chips, you'd whine for your parents to buy it for you? I remembered mine was Caramilk chocolate or Caramel Candy Apples!

my perm taglist<3 <- request here

@seonhoon @dollrincess @ethanatvre @rei4sunoo @shxhdsstuff @jakeflvrz @laylasbunbunny @jiiyen @saphiranishimurashan @lovelycassy @starry-eyed-bimbo @babyboomysweetie @24svnn @pinkglitterpuke @mellowgalaxystrawberry @heavenki @s1rawb3rry @madslove-enhypen @aishigrey @yangjungwonnie @lilmarsh-t @hoseokteardrop @mrsjjongstby @ro-diaries @ijustwannareadstuff20 @leilamaybelyla @celestialen

Baby Series Masterlist

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russo-woso · 2 months ago

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Polaroids || Leah Williamson x reader

Masterlist | Prompt list

Warning just a bit suggestive 🤷‍♀️

Summary You decide to spice up your wedding day by giving polaroids of yourself in let’s say, special clothes, to Leah

It was your big day. Your wedding day.

The day you were finally marrying the love of youth life, Leah.

A wedding day is always meant to be memorable but you wanted to make it even more memorable.

Which led you to taking pictures of yourself in Leah’s favourite… let’s say clothes.

You printed them out onto small Polaroids, giving one to each of your bridesmaids.

Over the course of the day, they’d give them to Leah.

Steph was the first one to give one to Leah, secretly recording her reaction.

Since Steph was on of your bridesmaids and should’ve been with you the morning of the ceremony, Leah was shocked to see her at the door.

“I’ve got a special delivery.” Steph announced, slipping the Polaroid into Leah’s hand.

Leah took one peak of it, her eyes widening and her jaw dropping.

Her cheeks blushed as she held the picture to her chest.

Her own bridal party cheered, connecting the dots together by her reaction.

“What’s that, dear?” Amanda asked, clearly confused at the whole situation as her eyebrows were drawn together.

Amanda went to take the Polaroid from Leah but before she could, Leah quickly turned away.

“Mum, no! You can’t look at this.” Leah exclaimed

Leah looked at it once again, biting her bottom lip as she did, her cheeks reddening even more.

The realisation hit Amanda immediately, a playful smirk appearing on her face as she watched her daughter’s reaction.

“Early present from Y/N?” Amanda teased

“Sneak peak for what’s in store tonight, huh?” Holly - Leah’s cousin - added

“Stop.” Leah mumbled, clearly embarrassed with all the fuss. Leah turned to Steph who was still standing at the door. “When’s the next one?”

“I’m not telling you.”

“Steph… please.”

“Nope!”

—

The next one was delivered by your cousin.

Leah and her dad were waiting to walk down the aisle when your cousin slipped the picture to Leah.

Leah looked at it, biting down on her lip at the thought of you in the picture.

“What’s was that?” David asked Leah, trying to peak at the paper.

“Nothing, honestly. God - you and mum are such nosey people.”

Leah stuffed it in her blazer pocket before anyone else tried to look at it.

Although she’d blushed so many times today already, the thought of you on the picture - her soon to be wife - made her cheeks go red.

—

The ceremony was all over and you and Leah were going round, thanking everyone for coming.

Leah approached alessia, hugging her and thanking her.

Alessia suddenly passed a small Polaroid to Leah, this one you were in Leah’s all time favourite set - a dark red.

“Oh my god.” Leah muttered, releasing a small groan as she focused on the picture.

Alessia laughed at her reaction, before patting her shoulder with a smirk.

“Have fun tonight, le, these aren’t the only thing she’s got planned.”

—

The party was now in full swing when Leah was handed the fourth and final picture.

You were both dancing away together when Beth handed Leah the Polaroid.

“You’re a dirty girl doing this.” Leah joked, taking a quick glance at the picture.

“Babe…” Leah began, her jaw wide open as she stared at the picture of you in a new set - a custom set.

Leah’s eyes darted to where her name was embroidered onto the material - the number 6 right next to it.

You moved your dress strap to the side, revealing the strap of the lingerie, the exact shade as the one in the picture.

“Right that’s it.” Leah sighed, picking you up bridal style and walking you out the room and to the suite.

Everyone cheered as you left, clearly knowing where the two of you were going.

“We’re in for a long night, pretty girl.”

#woso #woso community #woso x reader #woso imagine #womens football #woso fanfics #leah williamson #leah williamson x reader

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thatonebabybat · 1 year ago

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Being Masc & Goth

This blog usually isn't fashion-focused, but I was thinking about alt fashion and how it's sometimes a struggle to figure out how to style things in a masc way if you're interested in darkalt fashion, but you don't want to go too casual or basic with it. So I thought I'd throw together some tips, link some DIYs, and maybe throw in a few moodboards. I want to preface this with one thing: You do NOT have to adhere to traditional gender roles. Fuck anyone who tells you that you do. If you're a guy and you want to get into alt fashion don't let anyone tell you that you can't pull off a skirt or a dress or a strappy top. Literally the whole point of being alt is Doing Whatever The Hell You Want Forever. However, not everyone feels comfortable in that (I made this post because I'm transmasc and sometimes the long gothic dresses make me dysphoric), and not everyone is safe to do that ( as much as it sucks ass, if you live in a conservative area sometimes it can be genuinely dangerous for guys to wear makeup and dresses in public, and your safety should always come first), so I thought I'd lay out some tips on how to dress alt and masc from my own experience. I'm still learning so feel free to leave your own advice in the replies or reblogs! General Styling Tips: - Jackets. Jackets, jackets, jackets. Something about a big jacket always seems to give an outfit a more masc energy, and adding a cool jacket to an outfit can be a great way to elevate it and add some extra visual interest. I like black blazers, leather jackets, and black denim jackets in particular, but vests (formal menswear ones or more casual denim or leather ones) can work well too, especially in hot weather. - Any basic black pair of jeans will look 100x more alt if you loosely attach some chains to the pockets or belt loops. Also, pants with wider legs tend to look more masc than tighter fits. not sure why. Slacks can also be a really good and underrated option. - If you want to find good headwear, cool sunglasses have never failed me. You may be able to take some inspiration from Ouji fashion as well, but that's just my personal taste. - If you have a basic piece around, you can add pins, patches, safety pins, etc for a more casual look, or if you're going for something more formal, trims and lace details and embroidery can really add interest and elegance to it. (if you can't sew, you can order iron-on embroidered patches online or find them in craft stores that'll do the trick just fine.) This can take your pair of slacks or plain black blazer and turn it into a piece of formal gothic menswear you can make a staple of your wardrobe. - Find inspiration in your favorite goth artists. There's a lot of really cool goth music out there and a lot of those bands get really innovative with their looks! Figure out what you like about their style and try incorporating a few things in, it's fun! - If you have an alt wardrobe already but it just seems like something's missing or it could use some interest, try switching up the silhouettes or adding an extra layer! Seriously, don't be scared of playing with textures and sleeve shapes! I see a lot of dudes who just wear a band tee and a pair of jeans all the time, and there's absolutely nothing wrong with that, that can be a great look! But I think a lot of dudes just genuinely think that that's their only option and that everything else just "wasn't made for them" and that makes me a little sad. shred up some shirts and layer them, wear some bell sleeves, throw some extra safety pins or studs on, have fun! No one said masc fashion couldn't be fun. Unisex/Masc DIY Videos I Found:

youtube

... And Some Inspiration!

[These are all goth music artists, I wrote the band/artist names in small text on the images that were not already watermarked for those who are curious]

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mead-iocre · 5 months ago

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spoiled!reader who grew up going to a prestigious boarding school nestled between mountains in switzerland. breakfast at the dinning hall involved freshly baked pastries, aristinal breads, cheese boards, and locally sourced fruits that aren't even in seaosn. she gets taught latin on wednesdays and fridays, and horseback riding is part of the curriculum. fencing was optional, and the classes were always crowded, so she chose polo instead. the uniform was a crisp white blouse, tucked neatly into the pleats of italian cotton plaid skirt. the navy blazer, with the school crest—a silver eagle-- hand embroidered and shining proudly on the pocket. shoes had to be only the finest leather shoes, matte not shiny so no one stands out, and preferably with a inch or two heel for the girls. she detested the uniforms because it made everyone bland and constricted individual expression. also: her prada heels were not made to wear with an ugly plaid skirt.

as a result of being away from home so often for most of her childhood, she grows up quite detached from her parents. she's independent but because she really had no other choice. birthdays and christmases were always lavish, but never sentimental. every year she would get an email from her parents with a short, straight forward "happy birthday" and some more money added to her card that day. even though her family had a lot of it, money was always conditional. father’s greetings over the phone always start with “if” and mother’s favourite word was “but”.

"if you continue to get full merits on your quarterly report cards then we'll buy you that bag you've been asking for" or "your teacher says you have gone down a rank-- from top of the class to third which isn’t too bad but it’s disappointing" and "if you want to be home for Christmas, you'll finish and submit your project early or else Daddy won't pay for a flight"

as a result, spoiled!reader grew up thinking money was conditional. that whenever someone spent money on her, she needed to do something to earn it. but when she met leah that all changed. spoiled!reader will never forget their first date when she offered to split the bill (like she does with every single date she has ever been on), but leah adamantly refused. she waited for the condition to come, the "well since I payed you for you, owe me another date" because it always came sooner or later, but there was none. leah ended up getting that second date, and the third and the fourth...

so now as you ascend the stairs into the looming doors of the school entrance, it isn't as scary anymore. what used to be a place of dullness and routine, is now a mere memory tucked into the furthest places in your mind. you pull the hand that's holding leah, eagerly stepping into the grand foyer where you recognizes a few familiar faces. your pink Fendi heels, shiny not matte because you want to stand out, click clanking against the marble floor as you lead leah into the high school class reunion. some of the people in this room you have not seen once in 10 years.

"are you ready to meet the most pretentious, self-absorbed people you'll ever meet?" you whispers to your lover.

leah entwines your fingers together and gives you a grin. "remember, the safe word is apples"

in the middle of the conversation between acquaintances not friends, they speak about their current lives. subtle drags about how they can appear more fulfilled and better than the woman standing next to them. talks about law school and medical school, about how hard it's been to manage their careers. fruitless stories about how they were all busy these days that it was even a miracle they could attend the reunion. eventually, they turn their conversation to you. "what are you doing these days?"

swallowing the last sip of vintage white, you smile. "I still work at the magazine but part time now"

"oh."

you catch the note of pity in their voices, willing yourself to hold the smile threatening to crack on your face. you wanted to yank the tacky pearl necklace that rests against her collarbones. Veronica never liked you, even back then.

"Don't you want to do something with your life? You know, instead of wasting your days at some desk job"

Leah stiffens beside you, her grip on your hand tighter than it was a minute ago.

"I don't mind it, actually", your reply is curt. "My job allows flexibility for when I have to join Leah for away games and whenever I have to travel with her for work. One day we'll be in London and the next day we'll be in New York for fashion week events"

They nod along but they're obviously not too impressed. which is fine because you weren't here to impress them or participate in this little game they've invented about who has a better life post-high school. "I'm actually quite spoiled these days"

"Ahh still being spoilt by mummy and daddy?" she meant it teasingly probably but you caught the hint of scorn in her tone.

From your peripheral, you notice Leah talking a small step forward, positioning herself so that she is almost shielding you from the rest of them. her height towering slightly over the other women in your group. you notice the stiffness in her jaw and the way her eyebrows lift in mockery. she chuckles slightly into the rim of her wine glass "yeah her daddy definitely spoils her"

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idk what I just wrote but i typed out that last bit with the biggest cheesy grin on my face lol

I'm sorry if this wasn't exactly what you were asking for, anon. if you want something else please send me another prompt in my inbox <333333

*This work is my original creation. Please don’t copy, share, or translate it without asking for my permission. Thanks for respecting that!

#daddy leah #<- spread the agenda #spoiled!reader #leah williamson #woso #spoiled!reader stories #anon fic requests #woso community #woso fanfics #woso x reader #leah williamson x reader #woso imagine #leah williamson imagine #woso blurbs #awfc x reader #awfc imagine #blurbs

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