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#love that she posted a clip of Swim
dottiep · 5 months
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aot men as dads - headcanon!! some 18+!!
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includes: eren, jean, reiner, & levi
i'm still working on some full-fledged one-shots and parts of my series', but i'm nannying for the summer and have BABY FEVER. please enjoy my little headcanons of my fav aot men as dads <3
DISCLAIMER: some of this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. if you are a minor, please do not read below the cut.
Eren
ok but eren is such a cringe dad lol
buys himself all of the #1 Dad! merch. he’s got mugs, tshirts, hats, all of it, and all of it went on his credit card.
10000% a girl dad. loves all the little dresses and bows; he puts your daughter’s hair in its first bun, nearly tears up when she points at his matching hairstyle and babbles “like da-da!”
you have to parent eren as much as the children. when you turn the corner into the living room where he’s supposed to be having “quiet time” with your toddler only to find that they’re buried in a pillow fort and eren’s signed his own name in crayon on the wall next to your daughter’s scribblings. “babe, we can just repaint it! she’s being creative.”
loves when you’re pregnant. after your first, eren keeps a calendar on the wall marking off the days until it’s safe for him to fuck you again, fuck a baby right back into you. already has a breeding kink before your first. develops a lactation kink after.
TERRIFIED (and i mean terrified) of hurting your little angel. has absolutely zero concept of “cry it out”; if he hears his baby crying, he’s sprinting into the next room, kissing a nonexistent boo-boo.
refuses to admit it but he has no backbone when it comes to your daughter wanting literally anything. she wants it, she gets it.
favorite thing in the world is matching outfits. favorite. “babe, where’s her green hoodie? i’m wearing mine today for the park!” “of course it matters, we have to match! on that note, where’s yours?”
lets your daughter use his hair to learn how to braid. usually has a few pink hair ties or glittery clips sticking out of it when you come home from a mom’s night out.
really big on your baby getting to see the world. drags you on vacation to any place he can think of, even as you try to explain to him that she can’t form any long term memories yet. “but baby, she’ll have pictures. how many kids in her class can bring a picture of them at the eiffel tower to their first show-and-tell?”
accidentally ruins santa and the tooth fairy for your daughter. cries harder than she does over it.
aggressively vets babysitters. ends up settling for a nursing student in the labor & delivery school who’s the oldest of seven children and probably more knowledgeable about child development than both of you combined, but he’s still suspicious.
wants to watch while you push, watch his baby come into the world. you’ve never seen a sweeter sight than eren in his scrubs, crying while holding your baby girl.
Jean
most people picture eren as being the roughhousing dad, but it’s jean, and i will die on this hill.
freaks out every time he drops your first boy while throwing him around like a ragdoll, but he’ll never stop because “listen!! he’s laughing!”. when it comes to the rest of them, he’s experienced enough now to tell the difference between a real booboo and an imagined one, and he simply brushes their little pants off caringly before shouting “now you tackle me!”
jean’s got no gender preference for your first, or the rest of your little brood for that matter. he raises them exactly the same, regardless: tough.
it takes him awhile to get used to the concept of babies’ minds. you’ve walked in on him having full-blown arguments with your shrieking toddlers several times. “what’s not making sense? if you let your goldfish ‘swim’ in the toilet, it dies, simple as that.”
plays “bad cop” for you because you’re terrible at it, but he’s always having to turn around and snicker into his elbow in the middle of scolding because your babies get the same little throbbing forehead vein as you when they’re mad
wants a big family, and gets it. you practically have to drag him to get his balls snipped after your fourth, him reminding you that “it’s reversible!” the entire way there.
the newborn phase is his favorite. he’s rarely home for any longer than ten minutes without scooping your most recent addition into his arms, squishing their little cheeks and marveling at their gurgling noises.
the kids never give him anxiety, but when you’re pregnant??? jean’s a wreck.
“do your feet still hurt, love?” “what do you mean you have indigestion? that could be the baby coming!” “of course we can’t have sex, what if we poke its little head?”
definitely the dad that’s got a delivery bag and a backup bag and an emergency third backup of the backup bag in his car at all times. the first week of your third trimester, he starts watching you suspiciously for any signs of labor, even though this is your fourth together. you think you’ve got it down by now, you tell him, but he won’t listen.
always gets the kids to work together on little surprises for you. every mother’s day they wake you up with breakfast, every valentines day your dining room table is covered in handmade cards, every birthday your kitchen is coated in flour from jean and four little ones attempting to bake
SO HARD to drag him out for a date night. he wants to bring them everywhere: the fancy restaurant, the couples' get away trip
jean's that dad standing in the bar, watching the game, beer in hand, with an occupied baby carrier strapped to his chest
wants to watch during delivery, but he passed out the first go-round, so now he’s content standing up by your head, trying not to turn white as you squeeze his hand hard enough to break.
talks you into just one more on your fourth’s second birthday. “they’re all so big now. don’t you miss it, babe? my baby in your belly? c’mon…” turns out he reversed that vasectomy without telling you
Reiner
another girl dad. hardcore girl dad.
buys his little princess all number of dresses and barbies, is confused when she’s more interested in the baseballs her classmates have.
accidentally raises the most tomboyish, toughest little girl. still babies her, and she hates it.
cries more than you do on your first date night out when you leave her with your mom. forgets to order his entree at the restaurant because he’s watching the baby monitor app on his phone.
definitely the best at splitting baby duties with you. reiner’s up before you most nights when she wakes, grabbing a bottle and cooing at her lovingly even as she screams. you always try to stay awake to watch him on the baby monitor, though, heart melting as his massive arms rock the tiny bundle back to sleep.
all the neighborhood kids love him because of his size. at every cookout, reiner can’t help on the grill because he’s buried in the grass in a little army of toddlers, led by your daughter, shrieking with joy.
always taking pictures. literally always. unflattering ones when you fall asleep breastfeeding, candids at the zoo, eighteen identical pictures of the lock of hair from her first haircut clogging up his camera roll.
can’t be the bad cop. literally ever. he just can’t say no to his little princess, can’t break her precious little heart by telling her that throwing her food onto the floor is bad.
takes your daughter to mommy & me classes with him
DILF DILF DILF. all the moms in the classes swoon over him and gossip about him when he’s not there; much to your annoyance, reiner never notices, insisting that they’re his “mommy friends”.
always sporting a little bit of glitter on his face or a sticker on his back from your daughter
coming from a fatherless background, reiner nearly kills himself trying to be a constant presence in your daughter’s life (you have to remind him that he has to rest too)
never misses an open house night at school, even if it nearly gets him fired. coaches all of her sports teams. literally almost cries when she makes her first soccer goal. actually does cry when she tells you the boy sitting beside her in class called her his girlfriend. full-blown breakdown on her first day of school, so bad he has to stay home from work.
the absolute BEST through your pregnancy and delivery. always cooking your craving of the week, constant foot and back rubs, stays up all night with you for the three days before the birth when you’re just too swollen and miserable to sleep.
holds your hand through the entire delivery, gets in the doctors’ way when they’re performing checkups because “i’m her father, i need to know what’s going on”
Levi
levi never pictured himself as having children, but when your little surprise arrives, blinking up at levi with his own grey, owlish eyes, levi can’t believe he hadn’t thought of it sooner.
very easily irritated with anyone asking questions about your home life.
when his coworkers ask for your newborn’s name, levi simply says “child.” are you two trying again? “why the fuck do you need to know?”
super overprotective. your baby waves at someone in the supermarket, and levi’s leaning down to explain (in words your eight-month-old can’t yet understand) stranger danger.
totally one of those parents that goes half-crazy trying to get their child into the top-notch, snobby preschool in town.
“we’re not wasting his intelligence on the public school”
levi grew up with basically nothing, so he goes all out buying the best baby products on the market. $2,500 strollers, researching “best baby toys for development”, the whole nine yards.
100% spends months trying to get your child to make a game out of picking up his own toys after playtime, but it never works.
has a meal plan for your child to “optimize nutrition” that you have to sneak around to give your baby little chocolates and junk snacks.
“why are there pringles in his playtime bag? they have no nutritional value.”
vets anyone that comes around your child, even other children. “no more playtime with that evan kid. he’s always got a cold or something.”
he’s always been a light sleeper, but once you have your child, levi snores beside them watching kids’ cartoons on the tv like you’ve never seen him, even drooling as his head lolls, arm tucked tight around your little one.
learned everything he could about labor and delivery beforehand
you almost killed him in the delivery room as he explained each medical detail of your labor symptoms to “reassure” you. he finally got the hint when you threatened to decapitate him.
he thinks it’s shameful, but watching you be a mother turns. him. on. 
wants to take you right there when he catches you breastfeeding, watches you read a bedtime story, spin your child around laughing. you’re just so naturally good at it and it makes him love you all the more, all that love going straight between his legs.
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heartthrobin · 1 year
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press your tulips to mine
steven grant x female!reader
wc: 4.6k
warnings: mutual pining, steven is a shy babygirl, marc playing wingman (but he's kinda terrible at it cause he's also falling in love), no jake (the crowd is booing), no khonshu, steven still works at the museum, post mk s1, no use of y/n
an: rewatched the whole of mk last night and needed to write about my dearest stevie :)) don't forget to repost to support your fav writers
summary: Steven's apartment has become overrun with more bouquets of flowers than any one man could ever find use for, but they would continue to pile up as long as the pretty girl at the flower shop continued to melt him with that syrupy smile each time he walked in.
Steven Grant had never given much thought to flowers.
Sure, he could offer a momentary appreciation for a flicker of yellow growing out the cracks in London sidewalks or maybe if he passed a house with a particularly impressive rose bush he could smile, but beyond that flowers remained mostly inconsequential.
Steven never had girlfriends in high school, or - to be frank - thereafter either.
He’d never had to pick out a bouquet, one that he would need to consider: does this match her eyes? will it match her dress? how does it smell?
In the face of discovering that he was unalone in the occupancy of his five foot nine frame and fighting in the name of an Egyptian moon-god, Steven had less time than ever to consider his frighteningly barren love life or the lack of interest in flowers on account of it.
Isn’t life funny? In the way that we look so far beyond ourselves for answers, when sometimes they’re just around the corner.
Specifically the corner one street over from the museum.
Steven had walked the path to work plenty of times. A designated route. In the days when he still worked at the gift shop, the same route now that he’d been bumped up to tour guide.
Until one otherwise unimportant morning when construction bound his usual way, forcing him a walk further around the block: adding another four minutes to his trip and a view of the quaint shops down Little Russel street.
He hadn’t been down there in months. His last venture had been in search of a pharmacy for sleeping tablets, when Khonshu was still a nightmare and Marc nothing more than a migraine.
Steven noticed first that the pharmacy no longer stood. In fact, the previously white brick face of it’s stand had been painted a lush lemonade-pink. The Petal Parlour.
Almost immediately, in just about the same breath, Steven’s eyes found a woman leaned over a broom and sweeping the edge of the shop step. She was humming, he could just make out a Stevie Wonder tune.
The morning light flickered off your hair as if off the face of a pond out in a beautiful garden. An elderly man passed your work, uttering a greeting, and you'd perked up with a melodic: "good morning Mr B!"
Steven's footfalls stalled down the sidewalk. A man crashed into his back, strewing the contents of his messenger bag around him. "Watch where you're going, asshole!" He'd seethed at him.
By the time Steven had looked up, you'd already retreated back into the shop. He could make out your outline through the stained glass front.
There hadn't been a day since that Steven had taken his normal, considerably shorter, route to work. He got up five minutes earlier each day, brushed his teeth, made a cup of tea and let the memory of you swim behind his eyes. He could hear Marc's sighs every time.
Most mornings you were inside. Steven would deflate when he rounded the block to an empty corner, but he refused to consider it a total loss because - more often than not - he could make out your figure beyond the window fiddling with petunias on a shelf or smiling at a customer.
Some mornings, when he found himself most lucky, you'd be outside the shop. Usually clipping stray leaves off the rows of bouquets that glimmered happily at the people passing down the street. When it rained, Steven was privy to the way your hair clung to your forehead and the smudge of black mascara beneath your eyes. In the sunlight your arms were exposed from under a pink work shirt and a soil-stained apron.
It went like that for nearly a month. Between Steven and Marc's alternating schedules, he learned to appreciate the slim sightings of you he could manage. Marc didn't make it any easier, mind you, with the way he would whine and complain into Steven's ear.
"Jesus, Steven, just go up to her and say hi!"
Once or twice, Marc had managed to gain control of Steven's legs: teetering him drunkenly in your direction.
The fright would rise quickly up in Steven's chest, steering his legs back in the direction he was walking. You'd looked up one of those times, meeting his eye and spilling out a soft laugh that dissolved into a syrupy smile, but he'd rushed off before you could say anything.
Steven's face stayed red that whole day. "See. That wasn't so bad, was it?" Marc jeered.
"That was mortifying." He muttered back.
The bus rocked beneath his feet and his palm was growing sweaty around the pole he was using to steady himself. Frost was creeping up at the edge of the window he was watching out of.
"Okay, so all you're going to do is go in there and ask for ... help with something." Marc clarified again, his voice echoing around Steven's head.
He'd been bugging Steven since he was brushing his teeth before bed the previous night, something about how "I can't handle any more of this, please Steven. Put me out of my misery."
"Help with what?" Steven whispered. A woman looked up at him from her seat. He smiled shyly, turning away from her.
"I don't know ... tell her you're looking to buy some roses. Tell her it's someone's birthday."
Steven nodded slowly to himself. "Okay ... okay."
Marc had worked hard over the last twelve hours at convincing him. The endeavour was initially futile, but after Marc threatened to go in there and ask her out himself with a - frankly insulting - cockney accent, Steven was left with limited options.
He rounded the corner with wobbly legs and The Petal Parlour loomed in the distance. A bunch of sunflowers taunted him with swaying faces.
It drew ever closer and Steven's heart was beating loudly in his throat. The pink brick was crossing his vision now, his footsteps growing heavier, faster, past the floral print on the window--
"Steven don't even think about it--"
Against Steven's will, his legs knotted around each other: collapsing his body in the direction of the white painted door. It crashed open and Marc, more than Steven, caught his body before it hit the tiled floor inside the shop.
"Oh my god, are you alright?"
The shop was cramped now that he'd gotten his first glimpse inside and the three people crowding the space had their eyes on him.
As if appearing from a mirage, you pressed past the people towards him. He nodded frantically, the scalding touch of embarrassment burned his cheeks. "Yeah, yeah ... I'm fine."
Your earrings jingled from where your head was tilted to inspect him. Ringed fingers pressed down over your soil-covered apron. "Okay then, if you're sure."
Your concerned brow dissolved slowly and that syrupy smile he'd seen pointed in other's directions was suddenly overwhelming him with it's warmth. "Well then, can I help you find anything? Are you looking for some arrangement in particular?"
Steven nodded dumbly, he was fidgeting with the edge of his coat. "Yeah ... I'm looking for, uhm..."
"Birthday!" Marc called from somewhere deep in his mind.
"Birthday!" Steven spluttered loudly. There followed a quiet moment of confusion dripping between you and him.
"Jesus, Steven."
Your giggles crumbled into the space before Steven had the ability to conjure more words.
"I-- I'm sorry, I'm being rude ..." Laugher spilt between your words and your cheeks were turning a soft pink, "you want something for a birthday?"
An embarrassed smile had reached up into the corners of Steven's mouth. He liked the tinkle of your laughter, half convinced he could get drunk off the sound. A molecule of pride floated in his chest knowing that he was responsible for it.
"Uh, yes. Sorry, yes." Steven nodded, fidgeting with the bag strap over his shoulder. "Someone's birthday."
"Well, we just gotten some new arrangements in this morning ..." You turned on him, steering across the little shop to a orange, yellow and pink stacked shelf. He followed you tentatively, trying to pretend that he didn't smell perfume where you moved past him. Pretend that it wasn't making his knees buckle.
"They're pretty." He said quietly. You smiled again. You're pretty, he thought.
"Focus!" Marc's sharp voice sliced through his thoughts.
"Who's birthday is it?"
Steven's tongue lodged back into his airways. "Uhm--"
"Oh shit ... uh, say--!"
"My girlfriend's."
"Not girlfriend, you idiot!"
"Oh, alright--" Your hands fidgeted with your necklace, eyes wide.
"My sister." Steven interrupted you again, the argument in his brain between his thoughts and Marc’s voice was rattling his resolve. "I ... not my girlfriend, I don't have ... I don't have a girlfriend."
"You don't have a sister either." Marc quipped.
Steven ignored him. You were watching him with another smile flirting at your lips. "Okay, well, do you know what kind of flowers she likes? Or have an idea of what you want?"
Steven shrugged, head wobbling into a shake. "Uh no ... what kind do you like?"
You seemed taken back by his question. "Oh. Well, I like the tulips. The yellow ones, especially, but they're tough to find around here ... they have tons in Netherlands and Turkey, which not many people know because everyone thinks of them--"
Steven was sure you could see the little birds floating around his head, and how his pupils turned to tiny black hearts: maybe that's why you stopped.
You blushed a velvety red.
"I'm sorry ..." you turned back, hiding your warm face to wave your hand over the shelf of stacked bouquets. "We have some orchids and some irises if you think she might like them?"
"Yes." Steven nodded, hands folding over each other. His eyes were trailing the outline of your profile, savouring the closeness he'd finally been granted. "Those ... they're beautiful. She'll like them."
Your eyes twinkled where you nodded and it made his stomach churn. "Great."
He lingered patiently by the register while you wrapped the flowers with careful hands.
"Say," your gaze flickered up between him and the brown paper. "Do you work around here? I'm sure I've seen you passing in the morning sometimes."
Steven's breath tripped in his throat. She noticed me?
"Yes, now answer her." Marc's voice rung again.
"I-- yeah, I work by the museum actually." His voice stumbled nervously from the back of his throat.
"Oh really? That's so cool!" Your voice lilted with a pitch of interest. "I really like their exhibit on the liberation of India from English colonial regimes. I've only been once or twice though."
Chest buzzing delightfully, Steven nodded. He knew the one you were referencing, it was a couple corridors down from the Egyptian exhibits.
"Well, you should definitely come see the Ancient Egyptian section. The exhibit is huge and we have hundred year old pieces, sarcophaguses and vases and slabs of cave walls with carved hieroglyphics. I work there and it's really the most fascinating--"
"Let her respond, Steven."
But you seemed content to allow him to continue his splurge, your eyes warm and gentle where it caressed over Steven's face. He stopped talking, winding off embarrassed.
"So, uh, yeah."
"You've made a very good case. Maybe I will come visit." You nodded, fingers stroking absently at the edge of the counter. "If you promise me a tour?"
Warm blood rose up from his chest and pooled in his cheeks. "Of course. Anytime."
You handed him the flowers over the stretch of counter. "I never caught your name?"
"Steven." He said quickly, dejection gathering in his throat at the fact that your interaction was nearing a close. "G-Grant. Steven Grant."
You nodded. "Nice name. It's very James Bond."
"Thanks."
"Ask her name!" Marc poked at the back of his brain.
"Uh-- and you are?"
"Oh!" your eyes fell down to your chest where the corner of your stained apron was obscuring the sharpened edge of your name-tag. You shifted it for him to see.
Steven's eyes followed over the letters, he tried your name out on his tongue. It tasted sweeter than he thought a name ever could, rolling off his lips like a song or a bird whistling on a summer evening.
"It's ... it's a beautiful name."
You blushed, eyes moving back to the keyboard for momentary solace before paralysing him with your warm gaze again. "Thank you. I guess I'll see you 'round Stevie."
His mind whirred with how casually the little nickname slipped from you. "Yeah, yeah you will ..."
Leaving the store, Marc called from between the sludge of Steven's muddy mind.
"Good job, Stevie."
-
Steven was consumed by the interaction the whole rest of the day and when then next morning loomed overhead, he could hardly believe his luck when you were pinching together some lilacs out on the front step where he passed.
Half convinced by the nauseating twist in his stomach to just march quietly past, the decision was made for him when you glanced up from the flowers and offered him a friendly wave: “good morning, Stevie!”
His brain dissolved into a warm, gloopy mess. “… Morning.”
-
In the coming weeks, Steven’s apartment had become a botanical garden of epic proportions.
Vases and cups and pots, and whatever he could fit a flower into, lined his kitchen counters and his shelves and his bathroom sink with every possible kind of flower that The Petal Parlour had to offer.
Marc grumbled most days, in search of a coffee mug or apartment keys between what he described the “Amazon jungle in here.”
But Steven paid him little mind. It was a harmless jab and Steven noticed in the reflection of the shop’s stained glass window how Marc watched you too, eyes glazed with a soft affection. He mentioned nothing of it to Marc.
Steven had begun frequenting the shop when he could, on mornings he got up early enough or afternoons when the day’s work brought soil stains across your ruddy, tired cheeks.
He’d bought flowers for every possible celebration to be had in London, seemingly nabbing an invite to each one. Bat mitzvahs, birthdays, weddings, farewells, funerals: he’d bought bouquets for one of each kind.
Each visit would play out similarly. He’d step into the shop, maybe once a week or every other week - with Marc muttering somewhere in his mind, we’re hardly gonna be able afford groceries at this rate - and you’d beam at him from behind the counter or from beneath a brightly coloured shelf.
“What’s up, Stevie?”
The nickname made him shiver every time.
“Let me guess … Christmas in July?” You’d tease.
When he’d find you behind the counter, that was his favourite, because you’d lean lazily over it. It blessed him with the view down the slope of your nose, the smell of your fading perfume, the jingle of your clinking earrings.
“Baby shower.” It comes out almost as a question, curling upward at the end.
You’d giggle softly. “Right. Boy or girl?”
It had been long enough that Steven could just about draw out your work schedule.
Fridays you didn’t work, Sundays and Tuesdays you only clocked in the afternoon. He tracked it with the little greetings he got, or didn’t get, as he passed on the way to or from the museum.
“You know,” Marc was fronting an early morning in August, subjecting Steven to a cup of coffee. He hated the stale taste it left in his mouth. “We’re quickly approaching, if not already long surpassed, the point where you need to actually ask her on a date. You know that right?”
Steven remained quiet in the depths of Marc’s mind.
He stayed like that until Marc had cleaned out the mug and stuck a wet toothbrush into his mouth.
“Can I please just get ready for work now?” Steven muttered after nearly twenty minutes of silence.
Marc huffed, letting his eyes roll back and the toothbrush dangle from his lips.
Steven shook out his shoulders, Marc was always so tense. “Thank you.”
It was only when he’d passed the flower shop that he remembered that it was Friday. A group of school kids were expected at the museum around nine that morning.
He was almost grateful for your absence, it allowed him to wallow in Marc’s words for at least one more day. He should ask you out, god does he want to.
The day passed like most of them do.
The school children were rowdy and mostly impartial to the magnificent feats of Ancient Egyptian architecture, but he took another tour around two o’ clock with three couples and a family who were significantly, thankfully, more engaging.
Steven had just wrapped up the hour, on the tail end of explaining how do we know what hieroglyphics mean? to the man who’d asked, when a flitter of shifting fabric floated past the back of his head.
Emerging like a bottle-green wet dream, Steven's gaze found you drifting under the arch between rooms. Your eyes alight in searching, they caressed momentarily over each framed painting and encased ornate vase.
He'd never seen you in anything more than your tight pink work shirt, which - don't get it mistaken - did enough damage to his psyche on it's own, but he immediately knew he'd never recover from the little green dress that clung to your frame.
A square neckline reached past clinking necklaces, long sleeves brushed along your palm - a job Steven desperately wished was his own - and a ruffled edge that teased an upper expanse of thigh which he'd never before been gifted a view of ... and if you shifted just a little, bent just slightly over--
"Hey, thanks a lot. The tour was great."
The middle aged man's face reappeared into Steven's view: dirtied spectacles pressing down the edge of his sweating red nose.
Steven stuttered, eyes flickering between the man's face and your figure in the distance. "Y-Yeah, of course ... anytime, mate."
Your eyes found him, waving a hand.
Uninterested in letting the American tourists keep him from you any longer, Steven slipped past them towards your nearing frame.
"Stevie, hey." You beamed up at his face, hands playing with the strap of your bag: clearly unsure. "You-- well, it was my day off and I thought maybe I could take you up on that tour, but I just saw the board and it says you'd already finished your last one--"
"Hey, hey," Steven shook his head. "No, I'm ... I'm glad you came. I can take you if you'd still like, I'd love to show you around? It will be like a private tour."
He swore he could dissolve under the shine of the smile you gave him. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah, of course.”
“Oh—“ you started digging into the bag draped down over your shoulder. “That reminds me …”
Your hand emerged with a single white flower. It’s petals were wide with a barely there yellow dot in the centre.
“I thought it would match the jacket you always wear.” A hand reached out, tugging gently on the corner pocket of his grey trench coat and slipping the flower in so it stuck half out happily. “It’s a white daffodil. Nicked it last night before I closed up.”
Steven’s chest was clenching up with a tightness that felt like his last remaining decisions in this life were to either immediately faint, or kiss you until the oxygen deprivation lead him to faint anyways.
“I—“ His fingers caressed gently at the edge of it’s petal. “Thank you.”
“Give her a compliment, Steven.” Marc’s voice startled him. He was a rare presence when Steven was at work.
The idea prodded at Steven that maybe it was the sound of your voice that had drawn him out.
“You … you look beautiful, by the way.” Steven pressed out, “the dress, it’s — it’s very nice.”
With nervous hands at the edge of the skirt, your looked quickly between the dress and Steven's face. "Ugh, this old thing. Just thought it would be a good idea to get out of my work uniform for a bit."
"I agree ... a great idea." He nodded, "You wanna ... get started?"
"Of course."
Steven lead you over the same route that he walked three times a day, four times on weekends, but somehow still felt itchy between the rooms. He figured it had to do with you gaze pressing curiously over his face, it made his neck hot and he prayed you couldn't see it.
When he spoke, you leaned close into his frame: eyes flickering between his trembling lips and the artefacts he was describing.
"That's so cool ..." you'd whisper to yourself at different points, sometimes a "that's crazy" or a "that's kinda gross", and Steven was drinking in your reactions like a man parched.
The tour closed off at the spot it usually does, with the replica of the Rosetta's Stone near the West Exit. By then, the sun had already sunk behind the backdrop of summer London and Steven's nerves were downright shot.
Your perfume was sending him on a chemical high and he's sure Marc heard every one of his desperate thoughts about the way your fingers tightened around his arm when they'd bump past other visitors moving room to room.
With the dress swaying merrily at your sides, you recounted points of the tour with animated hands flying ahead of you.
"And the way they managed to get those tombs so far underground? Not to even mention the complex tunnelling systems, how much work that would actually take to figure out--"
The tiny birds had returned to flying in circles over Steven's head, Isn't She Lovely was playing absently from somewhere in the depths of his mind.
Your excited hands came to find your sides and you huffed yourself into silence.
Following beside him, Steven lead you two out under the arched gates towards the steps of the museum. The moon twinkled between streetlights, and Steven avoided its gaze. Like he could feel Khonshu’s presence over his shoulder.
“Well, I’m glad you enjoyed it.” He smiled at you, a smile that just about suffocated him.
“Enjoyed it?” You laughed. “It was amazing, I mean, you were amazing.”
He laughed softly too, but didn’t respond.
The silence was beginning to turn stale.
“Now is as good a time as it’s gonna get.” Marc pestered.
“Well I should—“ you pointed obviously over your shoulder, before finding the face of your wrist watch. “My bus will be leaving soon.”
Steven nodded. “Yeah … yeah of course. I had fun, you should come by more often.”
“It was … it was very sweet. Taking me on the tour when you probably had better things to do.” Your hand curled over his forearm again, “You’re very sweet, Steven.”
“And you’re very beautiful.”
The words found the air between them before Steven even knew what he’d said.
Your lips parted slightly in surprise, cheeks brushed with a warm pink: “I— thank you, Stevie.”
Steven nodded, not looking at you and suffocating on his own embarrassment. “I’m gonna— need to go finish up inside.”
An unmistakably wounded look passed over your face. It dissolved as quickly as it had appeared.
“Sure.” It was curt. “I’ll see you round the shop.”
“Steven, if you do not stop her so help me God—“
A flurry of hot and cold feelings were chasing up and down his chest: he watched your figure turn and worked to do the same.
The outline of the museum had barely returned to his frame of vision when the cold hand of his subconscious reached out and dragged him down into it’s icy black depths: now watching the view of his eyes as if from a foggy tape recorder.
Marc stiffened his shoulders, turning to where you were bounding down the steps of the museum, heels clicking on each jump.
He chased down after you, skipping two steps at a time.
“Marc, don’t! You’re gonna scare her!” Steven was shouting now, rattling his already shaky consciousness.
He called your name where you’d just reached the sidewalk. You turned up to meet his face.
In barely fractions of a moment, Marc was able to find some sympathy for dear Steven.
Now that he was faced with you himself, as opposed to the blurry lens he’d been cursed to only peer through before, he wondered how Steven ever conjured up the courage to say more than three words to you.
“Steven?”
The light of the street-lamp was flickering in little circles off your eyes in the dim street and Marc was half convinced to abandon Steven in the darkness.
He didn’t.
Rather, he slipped back down into the shadows where he felt Steven surpass him again.
Your brow bent deeper in confusion, “Are you alright?”
If he had time, Steven might have taken a moment to huff at Marc for not even bothering to turn away when he forced himself back to the front, spared you from the sight of his eyes rolling back in their head. But no, you probably thought he was possessed.
“I, yes, that doesn’t matter—“
He could feel ice cold adrenaline pumping down from his brain. Like he did in the seconds before a fight, when the suit would crawl up over his skin.
“Your eyes,” your hand came close up to his face, hesitant enough to just float in its orbit. “They rolled—“
“Will you go on a date with me?”
You blinked up at him. Once, twice.
The silence was reaching far past the limits that it did in all the romance movies Steven had seen and his palms were growing itchy with the passing seconds.
“When?”
Steven’s head was reeling. He hadn’t thought that far, but why quit while he’s ahead?
“Now. Right now, tonight.”
The surprise was fading from your face, replaced with eyes that were glowing around the corners and a smile that made his heart skip every second beat.
“Don’t you have work?”
“You haven’t answered my question yet.”
“If you promise to still come visit the shop ... I would love to go on a date with you, Stevie. Right now.”
Warmth was flooding back into Steven’s hands. “I’ll set up a tent outside on the sidewalk …” he breathed, “you won’t be able to get rid of me.”
“I’ll hold you to that.”
Steven nodded. Almost tripping on the step up behind him, “I’m going to tell them that I’m leaving. Just wait right here …“
He’d already moved up two steps, legs buzzing with untamed exhilaration.
“Steven, hold on just one sec—“ when he turned, you’d surpassed the small steps separating you.
He’d barely a chance to turn all the way back around when your index finger hooked between his neck and the collar of his shirt and your lips were on his.
They were warm and soft and Steven had no idea what he was doing.
With his experience being limited to the pool of:
A. The girl he’d pecked in first grade on the swings in the playground.
B. A drunken make-out at a college party for a college he didn’t even attend and,
C. His (mostly Marc’s) ex-wife,
It was nothing short of a miracle when his hand came up to find the side of your neck. When he pulled your waist flush against his.
“Atta’ boy.” He ignored Marc.
You pulled back, Steven was pleased to notice your reddened, wet lips.
“Sorry,” you whispered close against him, voice half-drowned out by the rumbling of taxis in the street and people passing by. “Been itching to do that for a while.”
-
taglist:
@pcrushinnerd @since-im-already-here @am-3-thyst @aug-ust69 @hangmanslover @suddenlysteven @nxonlights @lwjmoonchild7 @o-zenith-o @amasdaydream @may-tulip @skarrkiie @thought-u-said-dragon-queen @lxne20 @sangwoahsbat @orihimi-19 @purple-amaranthe @autismsupermusicalassassin @mt2sssss @angie2274 @dancing-pinky-flower @y2kbratzqouturr @brekkers-desigirl @its-me-ya-boi-lisa @softdvng0dness87 @venomous-ko @grilled-steak @emily-roberts @airzonaaa @yomoms-stuff @mess-of-fandom @winter-soul @insomniacrobyn
i couldn't tag some of you, just check that your settings allow for mentions :))
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lostgirlinthewoods · 2 months
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CRAZY STUPID LOVE | park wonbin smau
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15. im just a cat .。.:*☆
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ panel 20 is a video clip
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ignore timestamps unless otherwise stated.the swimming terms im using in the series are the words used in my local university. it may be different from where you came from so please bear with me.
notes. have you all listened to riize's japan single?? personally, i really love same key but ✨ xoxox you might be my next ✨ just hits. please drop your thoughts about the japan single, i would love to spazz over it with you ☺️
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back . masterlist . next
pairing. guitarist!park wonbin x athlete!fem!reader
synopsis. lee y/n, a competitive swimming athlete, just wants to finish her degree as a scholar. no drama. no distractions. and certainly, no romance. park wonbin, a music prod student and the siren’s guitarist, just wants to make music. no crazy fangirls in line to date him. no insane dms from random people declaring their love for him. and certainly, no dating. imagine the shock on y/n’s face when she received a message from her brother, anton, asking “since when did you and wonbin started dating?”
genre. social media au, college au, fake dating, fluff, crack
status. ongoing.
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taglist. open. send an ask or reply to this post.
@molensworld @wonychu @yoursyuno @siuewnb @gyehyeonist @binoyu @secretiny
@started-with-f-ends-with-uck @seokton @fae-renjun @nujeskz @i03jae @daegale
@kyusqult @woonagi-lemon @riki-shenanigans @revehosh @nctrawberries @wonbins-black-cat @parkwonbinie
@saranghoeforanton @tommina @chuutaroo @000rpheus @p-d1ddy @starwonb1n @ikiqui @taroddori @blossominghunnie
@aloverga @brachioswrld @toriblogkk @miyawwn @intakstars @naviiy @bebubilu
@soheendo @otblous @katarinaesqa @intakstars @yla-aira
@i1uvc4ke @maleegayuh @renjuneoo @whoisgwyn @hakkkuu
@endtostartbreathin @yngjngwon @flaminghotyourmom @deonuism
@film-sea @babigriin @ssweetreveries @bunni @wiggledingle
@onlyhyunjin
asks. for any thoughts, messages, and feedbacks; or even just for a conversation.
likes, reblogs, comments, or any type of engagements are appreciated. thank you <3
© lostgirlinthewoods. Do not copy, steal, or translate any of my works. 
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therapycat21 · 1 year
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All Right Now Part 2
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Travis Kelce x Famous!Reader Description:The reader catches the eye of famous footballer Travis.
Warnings: None Social Media AU
It’s been a week since the incident at Arrowhead and Travis is still actively liking my posts but has not reached out yet. I'm taken from my thoughts by an incoming call from my manager Stacy.
“Hey y/n” she smiles brightly into the screen at me “hey, whats going on?” I ask her “they just had a major cancellation for the arrowhead stadium and need someone who can quickly put something together, they reached out so I thought I would check with you to see if you are comfortable doing this last minute?” I haven't done a concert in a while so why not I thought “yeah I can figure something out, when is it?” I ask her smiling.
“It’s gonna be this Saturday” she let’s me know before we talked a bit more before hanging up. I then open Instagram to start making a post to announce it to the fans.
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Not even a second after posting it went viral and started to trend on twitter. I then get a notification
Killatrav added your post to their story!
I clicked on the notification to see he did indeed add my post to his story with the caption. "Tickets have been bought ;)" I blush before liking the story and decided to look through his account, it only consists of ads, and funny clips from a podcast he has with Jason, and pictures of him dressed really nice. I decided to like his recent posts and click my phone off before I do anymore damage. I guess I'm performing at the stadium now. I smile before I rush off into contacting everyone for the concert.
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Saturday Morning
The day is finally here, I've been up since 5 am getting myself together to head over to the stadium for the show tonight, trying to remember the setlist and dance moves. Stacy knocks on the room door in the stadium "everything is all set, you ready?" she questions knowing I can get really bad nerves before a show. I smile, it reaching my eyes for the first time in a long time "surprisingly I am"
I laugh “okay good, I’m gonna go and head to my seat, you’re gonna do amazing” she tells me before reaching to open the door. Before she leaves she quickly lets me know “oh by the way, kylie, Jason, and Travis are here in the V.I.P box.” she smirks at me before finally closing the door. My face formed into shock knowing they actually came, especially Travis, I take a deep breath and try to calm my nerves
“You’re gonna do amazing”
“You always kill it”
“You've worked hard to get here”
I keep telling myself the three before I’m interrupted by the door opening and them letting me know it is time for me to start heading to the stage.
I quickly start to head over to the stage and see all of the dancers starting to get into position, I can hear the crowd starting to scream from the lights starting to move, I’m then handed my microphone and decide to talk to them before they can see me
“let’s talk some nonsense yall”
I hear the crowd scream even louder before I’m finally revealed. I smile brightly “hello my loves” I laugh before the intro to my son nonsense comes on. Every time I sing this song I always make up a new outro depending on the state I’m in. We’re now near the end of the song, and they turn the music down slightly so we can hear the fans better
“How quickly can you take your clothes off pop quiz” I smirk slightly before turning to where I see Travis staring at me smirking “raise your hand if you’re a little tipsy, sex with me is like joining the swim team, Travis is my favorite Kansas City” I blush profusely from him breaking out into laughter and seeing the blush rise on his face. The crowd screams even louder now knowing he’s there.
I see the crowd now facing up where the Kelce family is and taking pictures and videos. I laugh loudly into the mic before transitioning into the next song.
I can feel his eyes on me the entire show and for some reason my confidence was skyrocketing tonight and I didn’t hide that I was looking back at him with the best sultry look I could muster up. The show is now ending and the stage goes black before soft pink hues go through the stadium and the back screen lighting up with my new album announcement.
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I hear the crowd scream even louder before saying my goodbyes and running off stage.
I reach the back where Stacy and Brittany are and take a few deep breaths, trying to calm my adrenaline "you were absolutely amazing, oh my god you killed it" Brittany says running up and pulling me into a hug. I hug her back before I'm pulled into another hug by Stacy "You did so good girl!" I thank them both before we're interrupted by security.
"Miss y/n? there is a Kylie Kelce here wanting to see you, she says she's your friend?" I smile brightly at the security guard Jared "oh yes please bring her and the family back please." Jared gives me a brief nod before walking away to allow them in.
"you know that means Travis is gonna come back too right?" I can hear the smirk on Brit's face, I give her a look "yes I know, but for some reason tonight I am feeling good and confident, that has not happened in a long time especially towards a man." I reply with a teasing smile.
We’re interrupted by the door opening and Kylie slightly jogging to me with both girls with her.
When she gets close by we pull each other into a hug with the two girls trying to hug my waist. I let her go then bending down to pull both girls into a hug “hello my pretty mama’s ” I kiss both of their heads before letting go and standing straight to also greet Jason “you were absolutely amazing mama” Jason tells me pulling me into a deep hug, he is literally a bear. He lets me go, walking around to sit with kylie and the kids. 
I’m then faced with a smirking Travis “I liked the shout-out” he tells me, I smile bright but with a giant blush rushing through my face “I thought you would” I smirk back at him.
He looks over at the others before moving slightly into more of my space, me having to look up pretty far to see his face “if you want I can show you how much of your favorite I can be” he almost whispers to me with him leaning slightly down with a giant smirk. If I thought I was blushing a lot before it is even worse now. I try to calm myself before replying “I bet you could” I try to whisper back, looking up at him smirking.
“So tomorrow night at 6:30?” he asks smiling “pick you up?”
I look back slightly at Brittany, her giving me a giant teasing smile and a thumbs up, I turn back 
“Definitely” I smile bright.
Like my writing? buy me a coffee! I would be so grateful!
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triangle-dog · 6 days
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TW pet death
(Not one of mine, don't worry. You won't miss anything if you skip this post.)
I will always and forever be a collar and tags person (or, look, if you are really concerned about strangulation then a harness & tags person or a breakaway collar or whatever). Microchips are great, all my beasts are microchiped, but if one of them gets out I want to be able to find them and bring them home no matter what has happened to them.
Two years ago, almost exactly I think, friends and I were three miles into a beautiful autumn hike with the dogs. The leaves were turning, the wildlife was active, and there was a crisp breeze. We rounded a corner and immediately saw a body floating out on the lake, a dog, its long black fur drifting back and forth in the small waves. After some deliberation on what to do, and if it was safe, I waded out to the dog while the others in the party held our dogs way back from the lake in case the water was bad. He wasn't that far out really, but it felt like it took forever to get there because I was fervently hoping he'd have tags. I could actually feel the relief wash over me when I got there and saw patches of blue collar peeking out between the drifting fur.
I towed him into the shallows by the collar. I'm the most familiar with bodies, which is why I was the one who went out to him, and I know that they age differently in the water but by my judgment he'd died farily recently - less than a day ago. When he's in close enough to shore that I don't think he'll drift away any time soon, I unclip his collar and return to the group. We sit down and strategize for a few minutes. How do you make a call like that without raising their hopes? (Answer: you can't - just the phone ringing will be enough).
"I'm very sorry," I say, "but I found a dog in the lake and I thought you would want to know." She tells me she was half expecting a call like this, that the gate didn't latch correctly and both dogs got out but only one came home. She tells me that they were so worried he wouldn't be able to find his way home in the storm last night. She tells me he was very old, that his mind had been going for awhile now. She tells me that most of his life, until the last few years as his body became less able to manage the walk, they would come down to a beach near here and that he loved to swim. She tells me she hopes he at least got to relive those memories for a bit before he went.
I give her the coordinates, it's not too far from a road if you bushwhack - certainly less than the 3mi we did, and tell her we'll bring him to shore. I pick him up out of the shallows, he feels frail, yet he's so so heavy from the weight of the water in his fur. He's much smaller than Nova, yet lifting Nova has never felt like that. I lay him gently on the rocky beach in what I hope is a natural looking, less-traumatizing-to-the-kids position. I clip his collar back on, with the fur no longer drifting around in the water obscuring it, you can now see the little tag saying "Poochie" on the front. We head back the way we came. That was walk enough for all of us, it would feel wrong to seek a different ending, and it was an out and back trail anyway.
Ever since then, every dead cat or dog I see reminds me of those lakeside discussions. We are all overly dedicated animal people, we're fully aware of microchips and all of our own pets are microchiped, but carrying a waterlogged body 3mi to the car to drive it to the vet's office was just not feasible - I don't think it would occur to most people that that was even an option. Even if they did think of it, most people would be opposed to putting a dead animal in their vehicle. I'm just gonna make it easy on people and put my phone number on my animals.
(Sorry, that post was so much longer than it needed to be, but my brain must have recorded that experience in a different kind of memory than usual because it is so so clear and comes all as a set like that so that's what you got too)
TLDR: OP found a dead dog once and has big feelings about it. Put collars/etc. on your pets
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whoopsyeahokay · 3 months
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Alphabet Soup
summary: prompt fill. the journey of a clandestine love affair at several stages because Wally Clark craves what he can't have and refuses to keep his hands to himself. and you live for it.
(AN: this'll be a multiple-oneshots deal—out of order—with regular additions until it's complete.)
🛎️prompt - Wally Clark NSFW alphabet.
pairing: Wally Clark x fem!reader
warnings: smut. AU - modern setting. romanticized toxic behavior. grey!Wally Clark. cheating. voyeurism. egregious use of the word 'baby'.
bon reading, frens
___________________________🧿
Alphabet Soup - B
B is for bad life choices, and, shit, you're one of them.
The head cheerleader's step-sister, the principal's daughter; a billboard sign in bold print bad bad bad idea wrapped in daisy dukes and a sheer, breezy kimono.
You're cute and kind and oh-so hospitable, doing the job your mama would do if she and your step-dad were in town. Keeping snacks on the table and the ice in the coolers filled. Innocent eyes and friendly touches, giggling to dumb jokes told by the Inner Circle that Wally doubts you really find funny.
That is until you clock how Wally looks at you. Caught mid-imaginary-fuck as he tears your clothes off with his eyes. Right there. In front of birthday-girl Janet at her own pool party. Everyone gathered in the kitchen for cake.
As soon as you know, Wally sees your demeanor shift and suddenly you're looking back at him, and fuck don't you blush so nicely? Cheeks such a sweet shade of pink, eyes down, lip caught at the corner between your teeth.
Makes Wally want to bite, hold, mine. To pin you down by the throat, keep you under him always.
Two hours later, Wally's the last one floating in the pool, sipping diet coke through a straw with his sunglasses on so no one can tell where he's looking. Janet dries on a lawn chair nearby; the other guests are either gone or on their way out.
Wally knows your bedroom overlooks the backyard. The room across the hall from Janet's, door always closed when Wally's over to play Boyfriend. Now, the curtains are pushed wide open and you're stepping into frame.
Precious little thing. Don't even realize the difference, the evening light dim enough to make it seem like the curtains are exactly how you always leave them.
Wally smirks around his straw.
Back to the window, you drop your towel and Wally almost groans out loud. He sinks his pelvis into the water. An awkward seat in the hole of the inflatable donut, but necessary to hide the rising tent in his swim trunks. He dips a hand beneath the surface, hidden, quiet, and squeezes himself loosely through the material.
You lift one leg at a time to dry them, foot propped on your desk chair, wet hair sticking to your back, rivulets of water making tracks on your skin that Wally wants to follow with his tongue.
So beautiful and just for him.
There's too much he wants to do, not enough time to imagine it all as you move through the motions of your post-shower routine. Smoothing cream into your arms, your shoulders, across your chest. Arms moving in a way that suggests you're massaging those perfect little tits. The thought shoots fire through Wally's veins.
"Such a good girl for me, baby," He whispers, tightening his hand over the base of his cock to keep himself in check. Janet stirs, raises her head and looks at him, a question on her face. He lifts his drink, "I said, you doing okay, baby?"
She scoffs, rolls her eyes. Hides behind her phone to scroll through what Wally knows is her camera roll. Posting heavily edited pictures to Insta and perfectly-angled clips to tiktok that he'll have to respond to later with the words and emojis Janet will type herself. Force him to agree to before she commands him to press send.
But that's a Future Wally problem.
When Wally looks back to your window, you're half dressed. Teensy white pajama shorts that cling to the swell of your ass. And what Wally wouldn't give to eat you out through them, barely-there-tease that they are. Get you to soak the fabric translucent before he humps himself to the edge against the impression of your cunt.
Soon, he decides, because he isn't good at playing the long game. Impatient. Entitled. And you're too damn delicious not to eat, and Wally has always sucked at delayed gratification.
Finally, you turn around and notice the curtains, notice Wally through the curtains, openly staring with a Cheshire grin. He rocks his hips up, correcting his position in the donut, happy to show you exactly what he thought of the show.
He lowers his sunglasses just enough to send you a wink that you respond to by dropping to the floor. Seconds later the curtains are yanked closed.
Later, Wally texts you, number lifted from Janet's phone while she showers off the chlorine and Wally lounges on her bed.
Gonna let me help next time? xx
i don't think it's a good idea
Wally licks his lips, eyes molten, reading the words because, fuck no, it's a cheap, shitty, terrible idea.
But you didn't say no and that's enough for Wally to tiptoe across the hall when Janet's asleep—Ambien heavy—and give you a taste of how good Wally can make you feel.
And fuck, baby, Wally moans as he buries his face between your legs, smelling you through your teeny-tiny shorts, this is the best idea he's ever had.
🧿___________________________
also available on AO3!
A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
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cococassey · 4 months
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Ironically, after taking me out of years of kdrama slump, Lovely Runner is going to leave me with a worse slump sniff. This might even surpass any romance kdrama I've watched before as it's focused on the romance first and it didn't go off the rails on the 2nd half. Ryu Sun Jae, pls take responsibility, chuseyo.
Guys I'm still so not over it. As part of "Kidnap Sun Jae and Run" Addicts Anonymous, let me help you cope through this 10 step program:
1. Play OST nonstop
"I Think I Did" and "Sonaki" will definitely be 'memories embedded in my soul' for playing the OST nonstop from when I wake up until I sleep.
It's going to be a tragedy if Byeon Woo Seok doesn't sing any of these live on his upcoming fanmeets. Pls pls pls k-ent gods.
2. Rewatch from the start
Undoubtedly one of my comfort watches from now on. I knew it was going to be good when near end of ep 1, Younha's iconic "Umbrella" song started playing, Sun Jae was walking towards a crying Sol, held the blue umbrella to shield her while he's getting rained on. Aww. I'm so soft for these scenes. (Deja vu to Bogum's MDBC anyone?)
3. If time is limited, watch the last 10 mins of every ep where writer-nim always saves the fireworks till the end!
In ep 2, the OG "I Think I Did" started playing, where a smiling Sol held the yellow umbrella to Sun Jae, and he hopelessly fell for her, is now going down as one of the most iconic scenes in kdrama romance. I'm usually not a fan of instacrush. But their relationship naturally developed more when they got close, during that stretch of Sun Jae's swimming injury plot.
4. For masochists like me, rewatch all the times Sol rejects Sun Jae. Ugh it hurts, but it hurts so good. A lot of rejections, but these 2 scenes...
In ep 9, when college Sol drunkenly curses Sun Jae as "pabo" for always going back to her, when she just keeps on hurting him. But he can't help himself. Sniff.
In ep 12, the setup before that train scene, where Sol asks Sun Jae not to cry when she leaves him to go back to the future. Then cut to next day on the train when she tricks Sun Jae and leaves him alone on the train, and of course Sun Jae can't keep his promise and his tears fall. Simply drama magic.
5. Rewatch the kissing scenes!
Sadly, nothing quite matched that ep 8, very hooot kiss between the 2 now adult Sun Jae and Sol. Sol discovers Sun Jae still pines for her all these years, and Sol finally admitting to him about her true feelings, the pent up feelings for 15 years in that kiss...,whew (fans self)!
6. Rewatch all my fave scenes!
That cherry blossom proposal scene is one of the most beautifully shot ones I've ever seen, glad he axed the first one lol. And a picture of the future wedding scene though imaginary for now! It's our reward for suffering for 15 eps lol.
7. Read and like all LR related posts, bts, stills, fanart.
You know it's a hit when fanart is everywhere, and I can change to a new Sun Jae-Sol wallpaper everyday and bask on the gorgeousness of BWS .
By the way, that latest clip of the live watch with the cast and where BWS is crying in gratitude sniff. He knows his life is also changed forever by this drama. Deserving! I was always intrigued by BWS's looks before, and he really surprised me with his acting, he also has great comedic timing!
It's just rare nowadays that the drama has the whole package, I love the cast and their characters too.
8. Read and like all posts related to BWS and KHY, and the cast.
Kim Hye Yoon poured her heart out on this drama, she really carried it.
I didn't get to talk about the rest of the cast yet. At first, I was getting used to some of the 'over the top' comedy, but by that condom confusion scene, I was laughing too. I love that all of the cast is just going for it even if it's bonkers crazy. But my fave has to be adult celeb Sun Jae's assistant who has this hilarious deadpan face and delivery of lines, and always has that 'tsk tsk what a loser' look of scorn towards Sun Jae, when his boss is at his most embarassing lovesick self mwahah.
9. Recommend LR to every unsuspecting person, let's spread the addiction, and destroy their lives too lol!
10. If still not recovered, go back to step 1! Good luck!
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sampersandman · 8 months
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Here’s something I said so many times since this clip dropped that I forgot to even post it here: I’m pretty sure this plot element was added to the script as a reflection of what Brendon experienced with adult swim
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Galaktikon II was the original vision for Army of the Doomstar, and you can find people working that out and successfully describing the events of the movie pretty much beat for beat back when that album released. The relationship with their fans was something left out, I kind of assume that was already supposed to be resolved in Doomstar Requiem. In addition to that, Brendon talked about wanting to explore Toki and Abigail’s relationship following Doomstar Requiem so I’m not too sure whether or not I think that she was always going to be dropped as a love interest. I really appreciate that she WAS to be honest because it’s actually pretty mature of Nathan and Brendon to acknowledge the fact that he projected everything he wanted out of life onto her- and there was never any actual relationship there. That being said, creating a last second love interest that was used as a plot device for conflict and as a prize, who deliberately avoided Nathan, and basically had the personality of a female Offdensen otherwise, was something that got a good amount of criticism from the audience. She was almost universally hated. So: I’ve been wondering if this was also a meta commentary moment? Like Brendon himself was apologizing? Lol
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Always curious if we were actually supposed to buy that the conflict was over Nathan “stealing” Abigail from Pickles too, because it was Skwisgaar/Nathan/the Media that said that and never Pickles himself.
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To me it seems like deliberate framing. He kept talking about getting a wife and kids and he shared that sentiment once again in AOTD right after Pickles is playing mom to the band and getting told by Offdensen that he needs to be as good a friend to Nathan as he can. It never goes so far as to actually contrast Abigail and Pickles, like say flashing his face after Abigail’s whenever Nathan is experiencing PTSD, I might think Brendon didn’t want to mislead/bait the audience when his primary objective was most likely to stress the significance of friendship over romance. That seems on brand with what he’d been saying in a lot of interviews going into this, that the entire show was an exercise in masculine relationships. Though he also said this lmao
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Finally, On a more somber note: I think the big funeral at the beginning may have been in part a dedication to Jon
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agendabymooner · 4 months
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RUSH || DR3 SMAU + FIC SERIES: a masterlist
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f1 masterlist: a - n o - z
daniel ricciardo x ofc (lester alessandro)
summary: lester alessandro, before she was a bassist of a eurovision winning band, was a daniel ricciardo fan. it was too bad they didn't get to know each other well until monza 2021.
content warning: MY VERY FIRST SMAU SERIES (that's a trigger warning on its own), use of explicit language, 16+ rating
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rush series (x måneskin member!ofc)
honey (are u coming), smau: how lester alessandro got blocked by daniel ricciardo before meeting him in monza 2021. (h)
own my mind, fic: it took lester almost six italian grand prix races to come across daniel ricciardo once more. sure, she was hesitant to speak to him regardless of the fact that she was his fan but the mclaren driver was certain he’d rather cause a stir in the f1 community with her after his win in monza than celebrate his victory with a lot of people. OR the second close encounter between the two of the most unhinged people of f1. (g, h)
read your diary, smau: it's 2021 and everyone thinks that lester and daniel are dating. lesson learned: never underestimate a fan's investigation skills. (g)
mamma mia, smau: an interview with jimmy fallon gives a brief idea of how lester and daniel came to be. (g)
mamma mia (again), smau: a youtube playlist was created to compile clips of danny talking way too much about his beloved girlfriend (f)
gossip, smau: everyone thinks lester's only here to be a formula one girlfriend with a bad reputation. it's not her fault she's confident. (mc, hc, h)
kool kids, smau: lester and daniel are going to new york to see a musical... while babysitting their "kid" (feat. lando norris) (g, h)
timezone, fic: lester wasn't normally like this, but she's more than willing to pay twice the price just to get to the next flight to where he wanted her: his arms, her home. (hc)
if not for you, smau: messages exchanged between lester and others as she takes care of the wolff children and an ex with the poorest decisions to have existed. (feat. lando norris, max verstappen, charles leclerc and characters from a story) (f, g, h)
baby said, smau: many tweets are posted that they don't often mean. their fans thought that his marriage proposal was one of them. (f, g, h)
supermodel, smau: how not to cry when you're talking about the man who'd give you the wedding that you dreamed of? (f, g, h)
rush series: wedding special
london bridge, smau: the alessandro-ricciardo wedding week is nothing of a peaceful week, and the monday only proved that thought right. (feat. f1 drivers) (f, h) - wedding special 1
fergalicious, smau: the grid singles need to touch some grass… or in lando’s case, go swimming. (feat. f1 drivers) (h) - wedding special 2
l'azienda di famiglia (e le donnole dell'isola), smau + fic: the alessandro family arrived and lando and george found themselves alone with two of the sisters. (feat. lando norris and george russell) (f, g) - wedding special 3 ♡
rush series: mrs. ricciardo special
part of you, smau: mrs. lester ricciardo asks her followers what to get her husband for his 35th birthday. little did danny know, she’s already got one ready to surprise him (f, g)
when emma falls in love, smau: as her pregnancy progressed, lester ricciardo made sure that her sanity wouldn't go the other way as she posted a thread of journal entries talking about her pregnancy. (f, h)
slipping through my fingers, smau: beau ricciardo was his dad's carbon copy and his mom's little heartbreaker.
here comes the sun, smau: despite having a red bull driver dad, beau ricciardo - or "little par" - is converted to tifosi, thank god for his full-italian mother. OR lester ricciardo's one year old son and his chaotic dad attended a måneskin concert when the bassist returned to the stage after almost two years of absence. (f, h)
pocketful of sunshine, scenario: beau ricciardo turned one and what's a good way to show his personality besides from showing it in front of an irwin? ★
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enjoythesilentworld · 4 months
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Wille's Month - Voicemail (Free Day)
day 31 @youngroyals-events thank you for everything (more coming in a separate post bc i have a lot of thanks to give)
A collection of voicemails left by Wille.
read below or on ao3 (G, 800)
Simon’s phone. March 29th, 2027, 4:29pm.
“Hi baby! I’m on my way home, I’m just about to stop at the store. Did you say we needed more milk? I’ll grab some anyway, I think I have a coupon. Oh my gosh, you’ll never believe what I saw on my lunch break today. I took a walk around the park and there was this little mama duck, and she had a little trail of babies following after her. I nearly cried. I was late getting back to the shop because I stayed to watch them swim around in the pond. And I- Oh, I just remembered I sent you a video of that. Well, I’m telling you again because it bears repeating. One of these days when we move out of the city, we should get a bunch of animals or something. I think I’d make a good farmer. Or would that make us ranchers? Anyway, I’ll see you in a few. I love you!”
Felice’s phone. November 11th, 2029, 7:13am.
“Felice, we have an issue. I’ve been following this recipe you sent so closely but I’ve managed to screw it up. Why do my egg whites look like this? … I just remembered you can’t see them. I’ll text you a picture. They’re all grainy and weird, though. Are you busy right now? This would be so much easier if we could do this on FaceTime or something. I’d owe you big time. I guess call me when you wake up, if you can? Love you. Thanks in advance.”
Linda’s phone. October 20th, 2027, 5:32pm.
“Hi Linda! Simon and I are running a bit late. Someone had to spend an extra thirty minutes fixing his— Hey! I’m trying to explain to your mom why it’s not my fault we’re late! Sorry, Linda. We’ll be there soon, I promise. Simon is being very safe, though, and definitely not taking his hands off the wheel to try to steal my phone. I made some new cookies with a recipe Felice gave me, too. I’m excited for you to try them! You have to actually give me a sincere review this time. I appreciated all your kindness last time, but I want you to be brutally honest about these ones. Okay, we’re about five minutes out. See you soon!”
August’s phone. February 1st, 2034, 9:48pm.
“Hi, August. It’s Wille. I saw a short clip of the ceremony today. Sorry I couldn’t make it. Mamma seems confident in you, and I actually think you’ll do a good job. I’m not calling you ‘Your Royal Highness’, though… I wish you the best. Bye.”
Sara's phone. July 15th, 2025, 3:06pm.
“Okay, I grabbed what you said. I think— Oh, sorry. Hi. It’s Wille. You know that. Listen, I am worried he’s getting suspicious. I’m bad at keeping secrets from him, you know this. I still think no one should’ve told me and this party could’ve been a surprise for both of us. Sorry, rambling. I think I managed to find everything on the list. They only had two packs of purple balloons left, so hopefully 50 is enough. Oh! The cake looks awesome, too. Felice did a great job. He’s going to love it. Okay, I gotta go, he’s coming. See you— Hi Simon! … No, just a scam call. How—”
Kristina’s phone. September 5th, 2032, 6:11pm.
“Hi Mamma. I’m sorry I missed your call earlier. Things have been really busy over here. The movers showed up on time, thankfully, and everything went smoothly. We managed to get a lot unpacked already. Simon and I just had our first official dinner at our new kitchen table! Let me know when you and Pappa want to come visit. I’d say give us a few weeks to at least get the majority of the boxes cleared out. You’re going to love the view of the lake. It’s so beautiful, Mamma… I’m really happy here. Okay. Call me when you can… I love you. Say hi to Pappa.”
Erik’s phone. June 1st, 2026, 1:52am.
“Hi Erik. It’s your brother. Wille. Um… I graduated today. I didn’t end up finishing at Hillerska. It got shut down. You may actually know a little bit about why. I don’t want to talk about that… The past few years have been really tough, Erik. There are a lot more good days than bad ones now, but it still hurts every day. I miss you a lot. I hope you’ve forgiven me for stepping down from the throne. I think you have. You knew I never wanted it. I’m starting at uni in the fall, and Simon and I are going to live together. I’m really excited, actually. Normal life, and all that. Maybe I’ll even get a job. Imagine that. Former Crown-Prince working as a barista. Um, okay. I should probably get back to sleep. I’ll call again soon. I love you, big brother… Bye.”
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i fucking hate adult swim for cancelling moral orel.
I age regress a lot and once i saw nurse bendy I was over the moon. she's the first character I've seen that shows the possible aftermath of child abuse. They portrayed her trauma really well and didn't make fun of it at all (although the fact that she accepted joe as her son THAT quickly was a bit too fast paced considering her trauma in my opinion – but I assume it's because they wanted some closure for at least some of the characters before the show ended). It was the first time I felt seen and not alone. Also, the whole "Alone" episode was a masterpiece. I love how it addresses rape, infertility and sexual abuse without sugarcoating it.
I fucking love Dino for that episode. And I hate adult swim for saying it's too real and depressing. Especially considering the fact that they made jokes abuse sexual abuse and rape in their other shows (or even in moral orel when he sneaks into houses at night).
and now they're posting clips of old episode because the show got some attention again. fuck them.
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destinygoldenstar · 9 months
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I Answer The Would You Rather Questions From TD2023 Episode 17
(IK what you're gonna say about the title, idc, I'm calling it one long season because I feel like it)
youtube
Here's the video I'm basing this off of in case you're curious.
Would You Rather...
A) Camp in a Graveyard for a month
B) Go without toilet paper for a week
I WANT to say I wouldn't be scared cause zombies aren't real, BUT I'd be lying cause in real life, I'm anxious like no tomorrow. Plus at least with the other it's a lesser timespan.
B
(I relate to Damien so hard with this one.)
Would You Rather...
A) Have to wear clown makeup for a year
B) Have your direct messages made public
I don't actually DM that much, most you'd find are a bunch of sex bots that I blocked immediately, and other than that it's really just me answering people's questions about media. So I can't really say I'd lose much.
But honestly, I think clown makeup is actually pretty fun. Didn't say I wouldn't get to design the makeup myself. I'd just be cosplaying as Pomni, and I think I'd be okay with that cause Pomni is adorable.
A ; For the fun of it
Would You Rather...
A) Lose the passwords to all your devices everyday
B) Spend the entire next school year in a hot dog costume
Jokes on you Chris, I'm not in school anymore.
B
I SUCK at passwords anyway. So, NO THANKS.
Would You Rather...
A) Be Hockey Superstar *Whatever he said*
B) Be the puck that scored the game winning goal in the 1980 cup finals
One, I am not a sports person let alone a hockey person
Two, I was not alive in the 1980s!
I'd go with B cause I don't want to 'be other people'. I do that in fiction already and with my cynical online persona. I don't do that in real life.
Would You Rather...
A) Slide naked down a ski hill
B) Spend a day in a wave pool that uses bark instead of water
I hate the cold. So let alone being naked, it would suck.
But swimming in VOMIT?!
NO THANKS
A
Would You Rather...
A) Popcorn that tastes like poop
B) Poop that tastes like popcorn
NEITHER.
Straight up. NEITHER.
I hate both of these so much. I do not understand how Zee can possibly pick one without hesitation. (Then again, it is Zee, so...)
I am SUCH a sensitive eater. I will vomit no doubt at both of these.
I guess technically one isn't s**t, it's just the flavor sucks, so... A?
But if there was an option to pick C, I'd do it.
Screw the rules of this challenge. make it a trick question and have the person fall no matter what. TROLL, Chris. Why wasn't there a troll like that in the challenge? I'm surprised.
Would You Rather...
A) Take truth serum and be questioned by Chef
B) Only be able to eat Chef's cooking for a whole year
Again, sensitive eater over here.
DEFINITELY A.
Would You Rather...
A) Eat a bowl of toenail clippings
B) Not shower for a month
I'm actually tolerant to nail clippings, but AGAIN...
B
He said SHOWER, he said nothing about baths, swimming, deodorant, washing your hands and face, etc. So YEAH, it's actually not that bad if you think about it.
Would You Rather...
A) Eat 200 Lemons
B) Wrestle your best friend's grandpa
WHY ARE THERE SO MANY CHOICES THAT INVOLVE EATING SOMETHING?!
I'm a softie, so I'd lose, BUT...
My best friend in particular actually hates her grandparents. So she'd love me if I wrestled them, even if I'd lose.
B
Would You Rather...
A) Eat pudding directly from a gorilla's armpit
B) Jump from a plane with a parachute packed by your ex
In the episode, they make this sound worse than it actually is.
Or maybe that's just me because I actually DON'T HAVE AN EX
(At the time I am posting this)
HA! GOTCHA!
B
Even if I were to break up with my partner just for the sake of doing this, (then get back with her afterwards) she is very skilled with this sort of stuff, has made several crafts like this, and I trust her completely.
Usually I'd hate falling, or anything that involves a vertical motion like that, BUT there's a parachute so it wouldn't be that bad.
And at this point, you'd know I'd do basically anything to get out of eating nasty stuff. If my choices are something to go off of my character.
Would You Rather...
A) Fight one bear
B) Fight 100 Rabid Kittens
I'd lose no matter what.
I am a HUGE cat person, so at least I'd be used to the kitten's scratching and biting. And maybe I'd tame them rather than fight them. That's my method of fighting.
Bear? I'd DIE.
B
(Also i love Wayne and Raj here. They're so cringe in the wholesome way)
Would You Rather...
A) Give up texting for five years
B) Lose your bathing suit at a crowded wave pool
I text my partner ALL THE TIME, and I will NEVER GIVE THAT UP
B
At least with this option I could just run away, just one embarrassing moment rather than stuck there for five years or something.
And if someone said took a video of me and posted it, uh, JAIL FOR THEM, CAUSE THAT'S ILLEGAL
Would You Rather...
A) Dirt poor but celebrated as a great poet
B) A filthy rich lawyer who puts guilty criminals back on the street
Hello. I'm a writer.
I ain't gonna put people in danger like that.
A
Would You Rather...
A) Be genetically merged with a warthog
B) Have Chris McLean as your dad
First off, who f****d a warthog to begin with?
You know Chris as a person, you know it would be AWFUL
A
Looks don't matter, I'd say
Would You Rather...
A) Apologize for something you're not sorry for
B) Go bald by the time you're 23
In the episode they act like this is a really hard one because it's Chase.
I knew what he was gonna say right away. You see ONE episode with this guy, you KNOW his answer.
SERIOUSLY EMMA, HE'S YOUR EX, HOW DO YOU SCREW THAT UP?! HOW?!
Anyway, for MY answer,
I'm not a jerk.
A
Yeah I have stuff I'm not sorry for, but it is leagues better than hair loss. Let me tell you.
Also I realized Julia didn't get questioned at all. What's up with that?
What are your answers? Reblog them. I'm curious.
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lostgirlinthewoods · 3 months
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CRAZY STUPID LOVE | park wonbin smau
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02. chanyoung's older sis .。.:*☆
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ignore timestamps unless otherwise stated.
notes. put on a video clip in the first panel if anyone misses it (although tumblr lowkey messed up with the quality). this chapter heavily involves chanyoung's dynamics with both group of friends to let you all establish how the character blends in with each other. hope you like it :)) also, i would probably gonna update at random times tho i really dont wanna overwhelm with it being so close to each other. im thinking of doing one or two chapters a day. any suggestions?
spoiler for the next chapter: band meetup
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back . masterlist . next
pairing. guitarist!park wonbin x athlete!fem!reader
synopsis. lee y/n, a competitive swimming athlete, just wants to finish her degree as a scholar. no drama. no distractions. and certainly, no romance. park wonbin, a music prod student and the siren’s guitarist, just wants to make music. no crazy fangirls in line to date him. no insane dms from random people declaring their love for him. and certainly, no dating. imagine the shock on y/n’s face when she received a message from her brother, anton, asking “since when did you and wonbin started dating?”
genre. social media au, college au, fake dating, fluff, crack
status. ongoing.
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taglist. open. send an ask or reply to this post.
@molensworld @wonychu @yoursyuno @siuewnb @gyehyeonist @binoyu @secretiny
@started-with-f-ends-with-uck @seokton @fae-renjun @nujeskz @i03jae
asks. for any thoughts, messages, and feedbacks; or even just for a conversation.
likes, reblogs, comments, or any type of engagements are appreciated. thank you <3
© lostgirlinthewoods. Do not copy, steal, or translate any of my works. 
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bearsinpotatosacks · 1 year
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Slarole things
She tries to kiss him Christmas 1986 but he pushes her away and says she’s not in the right headspace
She's annoyed but eventually get it, she was just trying to fill the goose shaped hole in her life
It's only 2 years later when she's still grieving but is getting sick of everything being grey so she starts forcing herself to try and feel better, goes swimming because Bradley's scared of water and won't go if she’s not there
Ron visits her after work because he's bored, they go grocery shopping and he doesn't hate it
He visits more after work, picking Bradley up or going for coffee, or even coming over for dinner
He starts developing feelings but stops himself because she’s still grieving and it's only been two and a half years and you killed her husband even if she doesn’t blame you, you still did and you were friends with her dead husband
Until after dinner, Bradley's watching cartoons, Ron's just finished helping her clean up when she comes over, says she's been enjoying spending time with him and kisses him, this time he kisses back
They start dating, he takes her out for lunch one day, he comes over to watch horror movies only for him to cower behind her. He even spends time with her and Bradley
And he stays over, a few times, more than a few, and when Bradley's in bed kisses lead to touches lead to something more, sometimes they stay making out on the couch, other times they just about stumble to the bedroom
And when he's away, she sends him letters with her perfume on it
The guys notice that he’s almost acting like Goose with his pent up lust and longing after a girl that none of them know. This sets off Iceman's alarm bells
Next, he spots Ron haggling for an ornate hair clip for Carole when they're on shore leave in the Philippines, when asking who it's for, Ron says his grandma
Carole gets said hair clip in the post a few months later when her mother and sister are around and they immediately want to know who her admirer is
Also he gets Bradley a toy which he loves
Tom sees Carole wearing the hair clip when they get back, she says it was her grandma's and he puts it all together
He corners Ron, Ron panics and admits it, Tom asks why he's hiding it and he says partially because they want to take it slow for Carole but also because he hasn't been a big relationship like this ever
Tom keeps their secret until one day when Ice and Mav are taking care of Bradley for the night, they go to drop him off only to have Slider answer the door in his pants and Carole come up behind him in his t-shirt
Mav freaks out, partially because he's the last to know but also because he doesn't like the idea of Slider dating Carole, he doesn't think he's good enough because they're only really friends through Iceman
Mav says she’s moving on too fast and she freaks out about how she's trying to be happy, trying to prioritise herself and her happiness instead of grieving someone she’s never getting back. Because she knows Goose would want her to be happy and why the hell can't she move on with someone who holds her when she cries about her dead husband and likes her son and makes her feel like she's worth it again and storms out
Slider says he knows he doesn't like him but he thought he respected Carole more than that
Pete apologises and says he just wants her to stay safe and she forgives him but there's always a little bit of tension about Carole and Slider that's there for a while
Goose comes to Slider in a dream saying he approves and as long as he looks after his family then he's happy for them, because they're becoming his family too
I have more but I'll save these for later if anyone else wants to hear them
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dartlekey · 7 months
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Let me in your ocean, swim
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Written for @strangerthingsocweek | mature | 1517 words | cw implied parental abuse, internalized homophobia, cursing, brief sexual content
A/N: Originally I was only gonna post on introduction day, but the reception has been so good I decided to drop another piece of Kicks' story, and I might even end up putting the entire thing up on ao3 once it's complete (I mean, at this point I'm almost at a total of 10k words already, so might as well...?)
Feel free to send me an ask if you wanna know more about Kicks and their place in the Stranger Things Universe!
💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖
The thing is, Kicks looks like an enigma from the outside, but she's not really. Meeting with her so regularly, once a week for movie night with Robin and twice more for swim practice, gives Steve ample opportunity to figure out what makes her tick. It's in the small things - how she loves sharing food but will never be the first person to admit they're hungry, how she's loose with her wallet but careful with her compliments. How she's startlingly attentive about habits and things left unsaid, but will sometimes space out in the middle of a conversation, and get really embarrassed if Steve points it out. (Naturally, he does so at every given opportunity.)
It's in the bigger things too - how she never minds answering questions about her siblings, an older sister and a younger brother, but clams up if he or Robin ask about her parents. How pressing will get an answer, but a clipped, almost aggressive one - but a careful prompt or an offer of an own uncomfortable story will get her to open up about what Steve quickly realizes, between ambivalent wording and careful implications, is a story of a broken home, and her running away from it. 
There are things, too, that change over time. At first, she always startles at casual touches but frowns when he and Robin consequently pull back, like she enjoys being touched but isn't used to it, and doesn't know how to ask. Steve and Robin never actually have a discussion about it, but they don't need to - one movie night Robin just looks at Steve, and Steve looks at Robin, and when they settle on the couch it's not in the usual Robin - Steve - Kicks order. Instead, it's the two of them on each side of Kicks, and Steve tossing his legs over her lap, and Robin putting her head on Kicks’ shoulder, and Kicks freezes but then sinks into the sofa with an overwhelmed little snuffle, and that's that. 
Steve knows Robin is just as glad for it as Kicks is. She's told him how she never was comfortable sharing the easy hugs and elaborate grooming rituals of the other girls, how it made her feel too predatory and gross to consider anything but shying away until the girls stopped initiating, leaving her even more isolated. How casual touches with male friends weren't even an option, too easily misconstrued as intentions she never could force herself to have. Steve's the first person she's let close like that since kindergarten, and he takes that very seriously, honors it with a mixture of the soft hugs and head scritches he'd share with dates, and the rough-housing and shoulder claps regularly exchanged with his teammates. 
Robin and Kicks end up sharing just the girl touches, both clumsy with lack of practice in a way that makes Steve's heart squeeze. He himself tries to stick just to the boys’ touches with Kicks in return - it seems fitting, with him and Robin two halves of the same whole, but there's also the fact that those close, soft touches would tempt him, in a way that they wouldn't with Robin. 
Steve isn't blind, is the thing, and at least a little bit self-aware, thank you very much. He knows his eyes linger on Kicks when they swim together. She wears a sports bra and board shorts to the pool, and he's always been more of a tits than an ass man but she has the perfect goddamn handful of both, startlingly there under the wet, clinging fabric, where her usual clothes completely conceal her body's shape. 
Or maybe not conceal, more… re-emphasize. She's naturally flat, for a - for - well, she's got a straight waist and a toned stomach, narrow hips and strong arms and legs. She tells him she used to dance ballet, which makes sense because so did Nancy, who has a similar build - but Nancy would shave from head to toe when Steve dated her, most likely still does, and while Kicks isn't exactly hairy it's clear that she doesn't shave anything, and she wears her body more like a gay man than a straight woman, and it's - 
Well. It's scary. Steve feels like he's attracted to all the wrong things about her, or the right things but in the wrong way. To both things he knows he likes, and things he didn't know he did, and really he's not supposed to be attracted to her at all because she's his friend and he is done fucking up his life because he keeps fumbling his relationships like he's fourteen. He doesn't even know if she likes men - okay, so he thinks she might, because he’s noticed her staring too, at his jaw and his thighs and his chest, but maybe that's just envy? Because they both keep catching each other watching, but he can't make the first move and she doesn't, so it's probably all in his head anyway - 
It's just a bad idea all around. He's never been good with hypotheticals anyway, so he keeps it as platonic as he can and fuels his pent-up energy in his actual dating life, which is - well, honestly, it's so fantastic he doesn't even have reason to complain, not really. He never meets The One, but he enjoys the dating just for itself - he's always loved meeting new people, enjoys even that fumbling excitement of the talking stage, of learning the shape of someone's mouth. 
And of their other bits, of course. Sex is something that's gotten better with age and experience, and he earns himself a bit of a reputation for a skilled tongue and stamina enough to provide multiple orgasms. It gets to a point where it's unusual for him not to end a Friday night buried in some girl’s twitching cunt, which doesn't just feel fantastic physically but is also great for his ego. 
Now if only his brain wouldn't keep snagging on stupid shit. He doesn't need to think about how Kicks has taken to making sexual innuendos at him and teasingly patting his head, he doesn't need to think about how Eddie fucking Munson is buttering up to his entire social circle, he doesn't need to think about the cold, empty space in his bed when he wakes up from another monster-filled nightmare, he doesn't need - 
He doesn't need to let all his emotions get mixed up, to let those little things eat at him until the frustration bubbles over and makes him do something insane like, say, flirt so blatantly with Munson that even Dustin takes notice. He does so anyway, which solves exactly nothing, and leaves him with the additional weight of now knowing that he's also into boys. 
Into men? Shit, should he be calling the girls he dates women? 
God, this is all so fucking stupid. 
It's not like he even does anything about it - well, nothing significant. He keeps flirting with Munson, who is startlingly and infuriatingly charming, but he only does that after Hellfire, when they're forced to interact by virtue of Steve picking up the kids to ferry home, and doesn't waste any more thought on him. 
… Except on those three or so dates with Annie Brown, where he always takes her from behind because her dark, curly hair is similar enough to forgive the lack of tattoos, and when that doesn't work out, he fucks his way through three busty blonde chicks whose names he can't even remember in an effort to pretend he doesn't have a type. 
(And then there's that one catastrophic date with Carrie Mistrel, who practically begs him for anal because she enjoys it so much. Which turns out not to be an exaggeration because she actually comes from him fingering her in preparation; that part is not the catastrophe, to be fair. That honor is reserved for the part where he's two pumps inside her and suddenly it occurs to him that this is how two men do it, and suddenly he's imagining Munson spearing him open from behind and immediately cums his brains out - ) 
His life isn't only about dating, anyway. He works fun shifts with Robin and boring ones without her, he ferries the kids around and does brunch with the Hendersons on Sundays. He keeps up swim training with Kicks, compliments her on her diligence and her fast progress; she's a strong enough swimmer at this point that he can teach her Marco Polo, and they spend an entire session just goofing off, playing the game with increasingly ridiculous and profane callbacks. At some point he laughs so hard he gets water up his nose, which makes her laugh so hard she has to get out of the water so she doesn't sink, and as she sits on the edge of the pool kicking water at him with a mean cackle he knows she picked up from Munson, he realizes he cannot date her, because if he has to swap this for meaningless oneliners and pretentious movie dates and 2.8 nights of sex before an awkward, “You're just not what I'm looking for, sorry,” he might as well call up the Russians and ask them to finish the job.
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