#I applaud you sir
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cottagecori · 2 years ago
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recognizing a url from seven fandoms ago in your current fandom circle -> 872 psychic damage
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weeinterpreter · 2 years ago
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Imagine sending your partner to get some groceries and they come back with one of the wonders of the world. What a stan!
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sir ridley scott.........
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gender-euphowrya · 1 year ago
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wait is wwdits pulling a "SYKE there were no gays all along haha adios faggots thanks for the views"
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avid-idiot · 2 years ago
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I must admit, I have been captivated by that guy's thighs 😔
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saucy-mesothelioma · 4 months ago
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I just looked him up and oh my God there's fuckin STATUES of him holding Asya
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drunk-person · 8 months ago
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Training Yard
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Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x wife!reader
Summary: One of Y/n's most common habits is admiring her husband's training every day. On a particularly hot day, the jealousy of the other ladies makes her achieve everything she has been dreaming of for a long time..
WARNING: 18+ mdni! Smut, p in v, swords being used inappropriately, jealousy sex, dom/sub tones if you squint, no description for reader.
Word cont: 2.800 k
Author's note: Okay, I think those gifs and images with a special focus on Aemond's sword changed the chemistry of my brain, and from that change this one short was born. English is not my first language so be kind if you can.
When Y/n was promised to Aemond and traveled with her family to Kings landing to meet him the first time she saw him was at the training camp. He was brandishing a sword and fighting like a demon. The look of concentration on his face, the way he moved fluidly, the sweat that dripped down his forehead, all of it caught Y/n's attention and made her thighs press together in a way she hadn't understood at the time.
Even in her homeland when the marriage was announced, everyone told her that Prince Aemond was a great warrior, but nothing had prepared her for that. It didn't take long for both of them to get married and gradually build their own daily routine. Y/n, just as her husband woke up very early, and they both had breakfast together, soon after Aemond left for the training yard. And Y/n couldn't even say when it became such a recurring habit to watch her husband training every morning. But she could definitely say that it was one of her favorite parts of the day.
Y/n now knew what that pressure between her thighs meant when she saw her husband in the training yard. She knew even better. And even after almost twelve moons of marriage, she still felt the same feeling whenever she saw him. Today in particular the day was particularly hot, as it was the middle of summer, and even though she was wearing a lighter dress Y/n could still feel the sweat running down between her breasts and down her back as she fanned herself with a fan.
She admired her husband's every move downstairs as he fought with Sir Criston, and she couldn't help but bite her lip gently as she watched him grip the hilt of his sword tightly. Y/n could see that Aemond was sweating wearing all those layers of clothes, his silver hair was damp with sweat, and it was to her great surprise that he had an attitude that she would never have expected. He took off his doublet and opened the thin shirt he was wearing underneath, she sighed when he saw the scene, but the contentment soon passed when she noticed that the other ladies of the court were looking at her husband like hungry dogs would look at a piece of meat.
Y/n gritted her teeth angrily as she held tightly to the wooden support of the balcony, as she thought about how lovely it would be to be able to throw one of them from above. And with her eyes sparkling, she barely waited for the fight to end before going down to the courtyard and approaching where Aemond was.
As soon as Aemond disarmed Sir Cole, causing his sword to be thrown a long distance, and placed his own sword against the older man's throat, the audience applauded happily. But no Y/n, she was smarter than doing something so trivial. And with that in mind she pretended to drop the green fan with gold embroidery that she used to fan herself and relieve the heat.
Aemond immediately bent down, picking up the fan from the floor and handing it into her hands, touching her skin in public even if quickly as he placed the fan back between Y/n's hands.
— Thank you very much husband. — She spoke softly, looking at him from beneath her long eyelashes, already opening the fan again, while she gently bit her lip.
—You're welcome wife. — He replied, looking lightly at the drops of sweat that fell down his wife's neckline, when she intelligently guided his gaze there using the fan. —I see that you are also feeling very hot.
—Well, I told you not to go out in such heavy clothes today, if you had listened to me maybe you wouldn't be walking around practically naked in public. — She spoke only for Aemond to hear, curving his eyebrows and wrinkling his nose, while he looked at her with that ironic smile that made her want to jump on him, to kill him or other things.
—I'm going to retire to our quarters, my prince, the weather is very hot. — And she turned around, closing the fan and walking away without even looking back, already knowing that it wouldn't be long before he would follow her to the bedroom. Aemond always got a little wild after training, with her teasing him he knew he would want her.
As she passed the court ladies, Y/n made a point of smiling arrogantly before heading inside the fortress. Aemond was her husband, only hers and no one else's. And still with her body tense with jealousy and desire, she entered the dark corridor to get to her own rooms faster. But before she could walk two meters she felt someone covering her mouth with their hand while pulling her firmly around the waist. Y/n screamed muffledly as she struggled, until the soft voice came in her ear.
—Easy, my princess.
Hearing Aemond's voice her whole body instantly relaxed, even as he dragged her into an even darker corner and pinned her firmly against the wall of a cramped alcove.
—What did you think you were doing? — He spoke with an irritated voice against her hair while holding her. — Looking at me like that in public, practice begging me to fuck you.
—Well, maybe I wanted to show some unsuspecting people that Prince Aemond has already been married for almost a year before they jump on you! —Y/n practically growled the words in annoyance, and it became even worse when she felt Aemond laughing against her neck.
—So that's what this is about? —He asked in a mocking voice. — Jealousy.
—I'm not jealous. — She replied grumpily, still pressed against the wall.
—Oh no, you are burning with. — He smiled at the realization.
—You know that my only eye is only for you, wife. — He said kissing her neck from behind. — Just for you.
—You think I don't see the way you look every morning when you watch me train. — He whispered, nibbling on her neck. — That I don't watch the way you bite your lip every time I grip the sword hilt. — He bit her earlobe as he said that while pressing himself against her clothed ass, making her gasp.
And without warning he pulled the strings of her dress violently while Y/n's eyes widened in shock as they were almost in the middle of a hallway. The flowing dress fell at her feet and Y/n felt herself blushing for being practically naked in that place.
—Aemond, what if someone shows up? —She spoke fearfully.
—Should you have thought about that before. —He said, pulling her small clothes down and stripping her completely naked while he trailed wet kisses down her back. Suddenly she felt Aemond turn her around and push her in the other direction, lifting her off the floor and sitting her on a small sideboard, knocking over a vase that was previously on top.
—Aemond! —She reprimanded him, but was interrupted when he pressed his lips to hers while holding her thighs, caressing them and keeping them open. He trailed kisses from her lips to her neck, and from her neck to her soft breasts where he feasted on licking and sucking like he knew Y/n liked. And little by little, the caresses that were on her thighs moved up towards her throbbing core, which panted in anticipation every time Aemond's fingers got closer to where she needed him most.
—Husband… —She whimpered when he rubbed two fingers against her wetness.
—So wet for me. — He said, looking down at her, still paying attention to her breasts.
—I need you inside me. — She begged with a needy voice while Aemond slowly massaged her pearl, and she saw the gleam of malice in his eyes as he shook his head.
—No, you don't deserve to get what you want. —Aemond gently pinched her pearl, making her moan and lightly bite her own hand to muffle the noise. — You were such a negligent wife, leaving in the middle of my training, making me have to drop everything and come to you.
—No, you deserve something else. — He said, pulling her and making her almost scream in surprise as he turned her around and leaned over the small sideboard.
Y/n listened as Aemond unbuckled his belt and raised her eyebrows in confusion, not understanding what he would do. But the realization came soon after when she felt something cold against her hot and wet intimacy, panting immediately afterwards.
—I noticed some time ago the way you always look at my sword when you think I'm not looking. — Aemond said while lightly brushing the handle of the sheathed sword against Y/n's intimacy, who pressed her eyes firmly while biting her lips in disbelief that this was really happening.
And without warning he penetrated the first part of the handle into her wet pussy, making her squirm with pleasure and bite her own arm to keep from moaning when she felt the cold metal against her hot skin. Aemond watched ecstatically as the rounded part of the handle was swallowed whole while Y/n moaned and panted with pleasure, he waited a few moments before pushing the rest in and no longer moving it letting her adapt to the size, while he smiled at the sight of his wife squirm, leaking more and more against the handle of the sword.
—Husband… —She begged, looking back with her face wet with tears and her lips red from biting them so much. — Husband, please. —Aemond smiled maliciously, but did not move the sword even an inch. —Aemond, I'm begging you. — She cried rubbing herself against the hilt of the sword.
—Look at you, my dear wife. —He said caressing her moist lips with his finger. —Begging like a real whore.
Y/n immediately nodded, leaning towards him for a kiss, which Aemond didn't have the courage to refuse. And in the middle of the wet and breathless kiss he moved the handle of the sword, thrusting firmly against Y/n's pussy, making her almost scream against his lips while digging her nails into her husband's neck. Aemond smiled against her lips and little by little he picked up speed, in a constant back and forth that made Y/n shiver with pleasure and lose control about one's own body.
She felt like she was going to collapse at any moment, the feeling of the metal filling her making her feel things she had never imagined before. The wet, filthy sound filling the air and the idea of ​​anyone walking by and seeing Aemond doing this to her made her even wetter if that was possible. Heat flooded her entire body and the smell of sweat filled the small alcove at that moment. Y/n did her best to remain silent, but it was almost impossible not to moan her husband's name and beg him to give her more, feeling on the verge of climax.
—Maybe you want them all to listen. — Aemond spoke in a hoarse and low voice close to her ear while sucking her earlobe. —Let them all hear you moan like a little whore while I fuck you with the hilt of my sword.
Y/n couldn't take it anymore, it was like everything inside her broke at once and she came against the hilt of her husband's sword shaking and whimpering as she squirmed and tried to hold on to the small sideboard. Her legs were shaking like jelly and she could barely stand, the feeling of her husband pulling the sword hilt out of her almost made her scream from overstimulation.
Aemond smiled with satisfaction as he pulled the hilt of the sword from inside Y/n, seeing it covered in the white fluids and liquids that came from his wife's pleasure, he never failed to be impressed by the fact that she became even more beautiful destroyed with pleasure. And still smiling, admiring the mess between her legs, he untied the drawstrings of his pants and pulled his own dick out, stroking it a few times and then rubbing it against her moist folds.
Y/n thought she was going to faint from the feeling of being filled again, but now completely. She was so sensitive after her first orgasm that it was as if Aemond was everywhere, and she couldn't help but grind against him for more.
—Always so good and eager for me.— Aemond praised her as he fucked her harder and harder and caressed her hips and breasts. —Such a good and wet cunt.
—You don't need to be jealous, wife, the only one I live for is you, no one else. — He said, sucking her neck and leaving a kiss there while Y/n whimpered and agreed, looking for his lips anxiously.
The two kissed eagerly and Aemond gained even more strength in his thrusts, and when Y/n was on the verge of orgasm again, footsteps sounded in the hallway and Aemond stopped his movements while covering her mouth, signaling for his wife to stay quiet.
Aemond then took advantage of the pause by withdrawing from inside her and turning her to face him and when the steps were far enough away he kissed her again hungrily, and already penetrating her once again with force. Y/n in turn brought her hands to his face, pulling him more and more towards her, wanting to feel every little part of him against her, and she barely noticed when the eye patch fell to the floor, only noticing when they both separated from the kiss. and the shine of the sapphire was present in the dark alcove, making her sigh with contentment at the sight.
—Husband, I want you so much. — She sighed, pulling him into another kiss, feeling closer and closer to the edge with each thrust from Aemond, and feeling him accelerate, she came against his cock, crying and moaning while putting her head in the gap between his neck and shoulder.
—I love you husband, I love you so much. —She whimpered, leaving kisses on his neck, and hearing his wife say those words while feeling her pussy milking him, Aemond came deeply inside her, shuddering and calling his wife's name with his face contorted with pleasure.
Y/n made a point of lifting her head to see the scene before her, in her opinion there was nothing as beautiful in that world as Aemond's face, the only thing that could compare was Aemond's face after the climax.
She caressed his face gently while she felt him massaging her waist with his fingertips still inside her, both still panting, a few moments later Aemond came out of her and lovingly helped her get dressed.
—I'm going to retire to our quarters, husband. —Y/n said visibly tired, and at the same moment Aemond's look changed and he shook his head.
—Oh no you won't.—He said holding her face between his hands firmly looking her in the eyes while speaking in a slightly hoarse voice. — Now you're going to go back there, sit like the obedient and devoted wife you are with my seed running down your legs and watch the rest of the training, knowing that my sword is full of your cunt juice.
—But husband... — She said with wide eyes.
—As I've told you a few times, wife, we must think about the consequences before acting. —He said, replacing his eye patch and fixing his own clothes with a smile.
—If you're lucky, there will only be you up there at that time.
He then fastened the belt with the sword back around his waist and Y/n could see the hilt still glistening with her fluids, and felt her face burn with embarrassment.
—I will never need a tournament favor again as long as I carry this sword. —Aemond said mockingly, looking at her and Y/n rolled her eyes angrily, since her husband didn't even participate in tournaments.
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chaostudee · 3 months ago
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controversially young girlfriend, lewis hamilton.
summary : the media crticizes y/n and lewis when they start dating due to their significant age gap. faceclaim : tyla a/n : been in the drafts for awhileeee also this is lowkey rly short so lmk if u want part 2?
y/nusername i can't call rn i'm doing hot girl shit
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liked by sabrinacarpenter, addisonrae, gracieabrams and 3,678,447 others.
sabrinacarpenter angel face 👼
user728 ughh so so fine
user42 omg imagine serving this harddd
username22 she knows she's badd
user34 oml so so obsessed with u i acc cant
username99 mother
y/nlover more music plsss
user68 my icon my legend
username frrrr she's literally like my inspiration in life
lewishamilton we had decent race pace today but wasn't enough to convert a win. we will evaluate what mistakes we made and we will come back stronger
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liked by charlesleclerc, georgerussell, francocolapinto and 5,829,620 others.
user727 my goat 🐐🐐
f1fan it's a struggle to be a lewis fan rn
user88 i'm so sick of the p10 curse i acc can't anymore
f1lover changeee your fucking car
georgerussell 💪
justanichident oh how i love britcedes
user89 still and will always be a legend
username11 we need more roscoe content lewis !!
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y/nusername had the best time in brazil love you all ! 🇧🇷
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liked by chappellroan, sabrinacarpenter, laufey and 3,818,919 others.
user727 aaaagh had the best time ilysmm
user99 her fits always devour
username22 obsessed with u acc
f1 we know this diva 💜
user728 F1 WHAT ARE U DOING HERE f1fan omggg y/n in the paddock when?? username28 omggg don't tease us like this
user782 what a cutie patootie
user44 ughh to be her
user62 LOVE LOVE LOVE HER
username26 ughhh she's so mother
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y/nusername make me lose my breath make me water
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liked by lewishamilton, sabrinacarpenter, madisonbeer and 4,829,728 others.
user727 GUYS OMGG LEWIS LIKED AND FOLLOWED HER
user44 damnnnn
username can we just collectively agree to dress like this 24/7
user62 WAIT GUYS THE CAPTION
user99 omggg is it a new song tease username526 i'd die stoppp
username90 serving cunt
user414 oh i'm so ready for ny show
f1 interview with lewis hamilton after las vegas gp
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liked by f1fan, justaninchident,user78 and 752,629 others.
user62 OMG OMG
username FREAKING TF OUT
user44 omggg i'm so ready to see bf lewis
f1lover guys he literally asked for privacy so let's respect it
user33 🙌
user99 betcha it's y/n
y/nusername nyc ily so so much !!
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liked by lewishamilton, gracieabrams, wiffygriffy and 6,292,628 others.
user72 OMG WE WON
username a new single announcement healed me
user673 hearing y/n live was utterly insane she literally sounds angelic wtff
gracieabrams so so obsessed with you 💕
username42 yummy
user99 need her actually
sabrinacarpenter mwah mwah lysm
y/nusername xxxx
user52 the choreeography was so fucking good
username66 omggg yes like someone teach me those moves pls 😫
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y/nusername last week on tour doesn't feel real 😭💗
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liked by lewishamilton, alexandrasaintmleux, chappellroan and 8,626,526 others.
f1fan sir lewis hamilton IS THAT YOU?!?
user727 girlll whaaaaat
user42 soft launching THE lewiz hamilton is crazyyy
username25 isn't there like a 15 year age gap 😭
user25 omggg wait you're right user626 ewwww
user62 i applaud you y/n for giving us pic of lew
username omlll his tats i can't
user52 knawing at the bars of my enclosure username22 plsss 💀💀
lewishamilton 🫶
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liked by y/nusername, charlesleclerc, landonorris and 9,720,562 others.
user728 OMG A HARD LAUNCH
user82 holyyy shittt
username89 wowza didn't think that he had it in him
f1fan the age gap is wilddd
username22 y/n's face card is actually insaneeee
f1lover summer break (lewis's version)
user62 back tats 🫠
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lewishamilton
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》 awww y/n's so so cute
》 15 years between you's is crazy
》 she could literally be your daughter.....
》 pls take good care of her
y/nusername in light of all the backlash on online that both i and lewis have recieved i have decided to take a break from social media. i will be back but for now this is goodbye. i love you all sm see you soon <3
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liked by lewishamilton, sabrinacarpenter, landonorris and 12,682,720 others.
sabrinacarpenter i'm always here for you ❤️
user62 stopp wait no i kinda feel bad
username hope u guys are happy because this is what happens when you all hate for no reason
f1fan so sry you guys are being treated like this
user72 i'm going to miss you so so much
username12 ya'll really made her to do this like wtfff guys
f1lover they both don't deserve this
madisonbeer proud of you for speaking out and putting them in their place
user672 yesss queen shit
user89 fit still slaying tho
username44 take all the time you need we will be waiting for you <3
taglist ⭑.ᐟ
@lottalove4evelyn
@mxryxmfooty
@sweetestgirlintown111
@hadidsworld
@llando4norris
@nichmeddar
@janeh22
@love2readd
@depressedriches
@seonghwaexile
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edenesth · 5 months ago
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ATEEZ as Disney Princes
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Pairing(s): disney prince!ateez x disney princess!reader
Word Count: 14.4k
A/N: The title says it all. I thought it'd be fun to do something like this for the first time, deviating from my usual one member per story format teehee. Special thanks to my one and only, my pookie, @itstheghostofmypast, for helping me decide which Disney princes San, Mingi, and Wooyoung should be💘
ATEEZ MASTERLIST
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Hongjoong ↠ Li Shang (Mulan)
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• Leadership • Discipline • Protector ���
"The Huns have struck here, here, and here," the senior General Kim pointed to the map, his voice steady and commanding. "I will lead the main troops to the Tung Shao Pass and stop Shan-Yu before he destroys this village. You will stay behind and train the new recruits. When Chi Fu believes you're ready, you will join us, Captain."
"Captain?" Hongjoong repeated, his voice filled with disbelief. This was the moment he had been dreaming of for as long as he could remember. He had trained the hardest and longest among his batch, fighting tirelessly to prove his worth to his commanding officer. It was finally his time to shine and demonstrate his capabilities.
"I believe you will do an excellent job," General Kim affirmed.
"Oh, I will. I won't let you down, sir," the younger man replied with determination.
It was during the Imperial dynasty in China that, as the Huns attempted to invade, the nation plunged into war. Yet, not all hope was lost. The young and fiery Captain Hongjoong was assigned to take charge of the new recruits. He would motivate them and push them to reach their full potential. His ability to inspire and lead by example would soon become evident as he transformed a group of untrained soldiers into a disciplined unit.
Throughout the training, Hongjoong enforces strict discipline among his soldiers. He sets high standards and expectations, ensuring that the recruits develop the necessary skills and physical conditioning through rigorous exercises. His disciplined approach is crucial in preparing them for the challenges ahead.
You would know this firsthand. Despite your best efforts, you had lost hope, feeling out of place because, at the end of the day, you were not a man. But Hongjoong didn't know that. No one in the camp knew.
"You're unsuited for the rage of war. So pack up and go home," he had said, shaking his head in disappointment as he stalked off.
There was something about him that made you want to fight harder, to prove that you could do what the other soldiers could. To his pleasant surprise, he emerged from his tent the following morning to see your fellow soldiers applauding you for successfully completing the toughest task in the camp.
This was exactly what he wanted to see.
You used to fear him for his harsh and uncompromising behaviour, but now you understand. In the face of war, no one would show you kindness or consideration. Captain Hongjoong was doing exactly what he needed to prepare everyone for that reality.
"You think your troops are ready to fight?" Chi Fu scoffed. "They wouldn't last a minute against the Huns!"
Hongjoong scowled, clenching his fists. "They completed their training."
"Those boys are no more fit to be soldiers than you are to be a captain. Once the general reads my report, your troops will never see battle," Chi Fu sneered, gesturing for the younger man to leave.
"We're not finished!" Hongjoong called out, grabbing the man's arm.
"Be careful, Captain. The general may be your father, but I am the Emperor's counsel. And I got that job on my own. You're dismissed," Chi Fu said snarkily, pulling open the flap of his tent.
There it was—the comment Hongjoong hated most. Being called the son of General Kim. He had heard enough whispers of nepotism, undermining his hard-earned success. He didn't want to be seen as just the general's son; he had worked tirelessly to earn his position.
He stormed out of the tent, surprised to see you standing there. "Hey, I'll hold him, and you punch," you joked nervously, but he frowned and continued walking. "Or not." You bit your lip as he walked away. "For what it's worth, I think you're a great captain."
His steps faltered for a moment, and he turned to meet your eyes briefly. In that fleeting glance, his eyes seemed to show what looked like a hint of appreciation before he continued on his way.
At least someone still believed in him.
And that someone was… a girl.
Hongjoong discovered this during the mountain battle when the Huns ambushed and you saved him. You had lied, fooling everyone, even him. How dare you? How dare you… try to save your father's life by volunteering to fight in the war? After the initial feelings of disappointment and betrayal, he realised just how brave you were—a quality that put cowardly men to shame.
Not only that, your perseverance had ended up saving China, something he couldn't have done without you.
Guilt overwhelmed him after leaving you behind, injured and alone on the snowy mountain, after you had risked your life to save his. The image of you lying vulnerable and exposed in the small tent haunted him—your hair finally let down, revealing your true identity; your petite frame contrasting with the fabric tightly wrapped around your chest to hide your gender. In his emotional turmoil at the time, he had abandoned you. But if he could do it over, he knew he would have done everything differently to protect you.
That's why he was determined to make up for his mistake by protecting you now, even though he knew deep down that he would have protected you regardless.
"Where is she?! Now she's done it! What a mess! Stand aside! That creature's not worth protecting," the Emperor's counsel screeched, trying to push past Hongjoong, who was shielding you. He gestured toward the destroyed portion of the palace from your earlier battle with Shan-Yu and his men.
The captain stood his ground. "She's a hero."
"She's a woman. She'll never be worth anything."
"Listen, you pompous..." Hongjoong growled, grabbing Chi Fu by the collar.
"That's enough!" the Emperor roared, breaking the two apart. The focus shifted to what was truly important: the fact that the war was finally over, thanks to a certain female warrior.
While Hongjoong possessed exceptional leadership skills, discipline, and a protective nature, he still had moments of foolishness.
"You, uhh... you fight good."
Was that all he could muster? After everything you had been through together, perhaps you were overthinking it. Maybe he didn't see you in that way at all. Maybe you were just another good soldier to him.
"Oh. Thank you."
Like an idiot, he watched you depart, a sense of longing tugging at his heart. Unbeknownst to him, the Emperor appeared beside him, clearing his throat before speaking, "The flower that blooms in adversity is the rarest and most beautiful of all."
"Sir?" Hongjoong blinked in confusion.
"You don't meet a girl like that in every dynasty," the Emperor remarked, indirectly calling the captain a fool, shaking his head in disbelief before returning to the palace.
Finally grasping the meaning behind His Excellency's words, Captain Hongjoong hastily mounted the nearest horse and rode swiftly to your family estate. He should have recognised the affection he felt for you sooner. Gosh, he truly had been clueless.
He arrived just in time to interrupt your tearful reunion with your father. "Uhh… you forgot your helmet!" he stuttered, turning awkwardly to the elderly man beside you, the one you had gone to war for. "W-well, actually, it's your helmet, isn't it? I mean…"
You suppressed a smile, feeling your heart flutter as you understood his obvious reason for visiting. Stepping closer to him, you reached out to accept the helmet. "Would you like to stay for dinner?"
He blushed. "Dinner would be great."
Seonghwa ↠ Prince Charming (Cinderella)
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• Gentlemanly • Graceful • Loyal •
"Miss! Are you alright?" the prince called out after helping you rein in your horse, which had been racing out of control. You huffed in frustration. "I'm fine, but you nearly scared the life out of him."
He frowned, confused. "Who?"
"The stag," you replied incredulously. How could he act so innocent when he and his group had been hunting down a poor creature? "What did he ever do to you to deserve being chased like that?"
His Highness struggled to suppress the smile tugging at his lips. The way you spoke of the animal as if it were a dear friend was endearing, and he could see that you genuinely cared for the animal. Not many girls your age, at least those he had met, would show such compassion. "Miss, what do they call you?"
Your smile faltered, memories of the cruel names your stepmother and stepsisters used flashing in your mind. "It doesn't matter what they call me."
"You shouldn't be this deep in the forest alone," he pointed out.
"I'm not alone. I'm with you, Mister...?" you said lightly, before pausing and glancing at him curiously. "What do they call you?"
Realising you had no clue who he was, he chuckled. "You don't know who I am?" His expression softened when he saw that you truly didn't recognise him. "Well... they call me Seonghwa. At least, my father does when he's in a good mood."
There was something refreshing about meeting someone who didn't know his royal identity, and he felt strangely free at this moment. Determined to keep it that way, he quickly came up with white lies to conceal the truth. Just then, you noticed the group of men who had been hunting with him gallop by, and you swallowed nervously. "You'll leave the stag alone, won't you?"
He paused, captivated by your sincerity and beauty—both inside and out—before nodding slowly. "I will."
"If I must marry, why not a good, honest country girl?" Seonghwa slyly suggested, posing for his portrait as part of the preparations for the royal ball, where he was expected to find a bride. Ever since meeting you that day in the woods, you hadn't left his thoughts.
The Grand Duke barely held back a chuckle. "And how many strong alliances will this 'good, honest country girl' provide us? How will she strengthen the kingdom? We are a small nation surrounded by powerful states, Your Royal Highness, and it's a dangerous world."
His Majesty sighed at the man's sarcastic tone and approached his son. "Listen, boy. I want to see you safe—and the kingdom secure."
Seonghwa's expression darkened at the gentle rejection. "Alright, Father, but on one condition. Let the invitations go to everyone, not just the nobility. The wars have brought grief to all of us."
That was all it took to set things in motion. "A ball for the people, a princess for the prince," the advisor muttered, unaware of how determined His Highness truly was. His plan to see you again was falling into place.
Days later, as you wandered through the town market, you heard the town crier make the announcement. "Know that in two weeks, a Royal Ball will be held at the palace. At said ball, in accordance with ancient custom, the prince shall choose a bride. Furthermore, by the prince's request, it is hereby declared that every maiden in the kingdom, be she noble or commoner, is invited to attend. Such is the command of our most noble king."
Eager to see the apprentice—at least, that's what he claimed to be—whom you'd met in the forest just the other day, you rushed home to share the news with your stepmother and stepsisters, brimming with excitement. But, of course, things were not going to unfold the way you had hoped.
"You shall not go to the ball!" were your stepmother's cruel words after she ripped apart your mother's old gown.
Yet here you stood, in front of everyone in the grand hall, now adorned in a magical gown and sparkling glass slippers, thanks to your fairy godmother. The prince's face lit up the moment he saw you, gazing at you like you were the most beautiful girl in the world—and to him, you were. No one could ever compare.
"Mr. Seonghwa," you called softly as the crowd parted, allowing you to approach him. His heart melted at the sound of his name on your lips. "It's you, isn't it?" he asked, smiling. "It is," you replied with a smile of your own.
Gathering his courage, he swallowed nervously. "If I may—it would be the greatest honour if you'd allow me to lead you in this first dance."
Your heart fluttered, and you nodded. With your permission, he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you close. The proximity made your breath hitch as your hand rested on his shoulder. He spun you around, and for a moment, you caught the eyes of the crowd. "They're all looking at you," you whispered, turning to face him again.
He smiled softly, shaking his head. "Trust me, they're all looking at you." In that moment, nothing else mattered to him but you. Holding you close, he couldn't tear his eyes away, not even for a second. He could stay like this forever.
"So, you're the prince!" you exclaimed as he led you away from the crowd into a secluded room, offering you both a moment of peace and quiet.
"Not the prince, exactly," he replied with a playful grin. "There are plenty of princes in the world. I'm just a prince."
You chuckled softly. "But your name's not really Seonghwa, is it?"
He laughed. "Oh, it is. My father still calls me that—especially when he's not too irritated with me."
As you both shared a laugh, your eyes landed on a portrait hanging on the wall. "Is that you?" you asked curiously, moving toward it.
He sighed. "Ugh, I hate how I look in paintings. Don't you?"
You shrugged. "No one's ever painted my portrait."
He paused, his gaze softening as he looked at you. "No? Well, they should."
For a brief moment, time seemed to stand still as you stared at one another, neither wanting the moment to end. Reluctant to part from you, Seonghwa led you out into the palace garden.
"What's bothering you?" you asked, noticing the flicker of concern in his eyes as you strolled down the grassy paths.
He forced a smile. "When I go back, they'll try to marry me off to a lady of their choosing. I'm expected to marry for political advantage."
You gave him a gentle smile. "But surely you have a right to follow your own heart."
He sighed, wishing that were true. Not wanting the evening to end just yet, he guided you to a hidden spot. "A secret garden," you murmured in awe, stepping into the beautiful, secluded space. In the centre stood a swing, and at his insistence, he pushed you gently, laughing together until one of your glass slippers slipped off.
Like the gentleman he was, Seonghwa immediately knelt down to help you put it back on. Once it was secure, you found yourself sitting close to him, your breaths catching as he remained on his knees, gazing up at you.
"Won't you tell me who you really are?" he asked softly, a hint of desperation in his voice.
You swallowed nervously. "If I do, everything might change."
His expression tugged at your heart. "I don't understand... Can you at least tell me your name?"
You hesitated, then whispered, "My name is—"
The loud chime of the clock rang out, striking midnight. Panic surged through you. "I have to go! It's... hard to explain. Thank you for a wonderful evening. I've loved every moment!" were your final words as you hurried away.
"Miss, you are requested and required to present yourself before your king," said the captain of the royal guard, as your cruel stepmother finally unlocked the door to your attic room.
The king...?
That could only mean Seonghwa, with his father having recently passed. Despite your stepmother's desperate attempts to stop you, she could no longer keep you from meeting him. With nervous breaths, you made your way down to the living hall where he waited. Would you be enough? There was no magic to help you now.
"Who are you?" he asked, holding the single glass slipper in his hand.
With a deep breath, you finally spoke your truth. "Your Majesty, I'm no princess. I have no carriage, no parents, and no dowry. I don't even know if that beautiful slipper will fit. But if it does, will you take me as I am? An honest country girl who loves you."
A soft smile spread across his face. His loyalty has only ever been to you and only you from the very beginning. "Of course I will. But only if you will take me as I am."
In that final moment of truth, you sat before him just like that night, and without hesitation, Seonghwa gently slipped the shoe onto your foot. It fit perfectly. After searching the entire kingdom to find you, you were finally here, his at last.
A few days later, you stood beside him in a wedding gown, facing the people as their queen. "My Queen," he whispered, cupping your face amidst the cheers of the crowd.
"My Hwa," you murmured, just before he pressed his lips firmly against yours.
Yunho ↠ Prince Phillip (Sleeping Beauty)
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• Brave • Romantic • Strong-willed •
"We want you to go pick some berries! Lots of berries! But take your time, dear. Don't wander too far, and remember—no talking to strangers! Goodbye, dear," your three godmothers chimed in unison as you waved them off. They were so charmingly silly, and though you knew they were up to something for your 16th birthday, you played along and agreed to leave the cosy little cottage you'd grown up in.
What you didn't know was that your godmothers were feeling bittersweet. After the celebration, they would be returning you to your true parents—the king and queen. They had kept you hidden all these years from Maleficent's curse, and now, believing it was finally safe, they prepared to send you home. Or so they thought.
Completely unaware of this, you happily made your way to the forest where you often spent your days, swinging the empty basket in your hand and singing a familiar tune.
Not far off, Yunho caught the sound of your voice—the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. He pulled his horse to a stop, biting his lip in wonder. "What is that? It's... beautiful." Turning toward the source of the melody, he couldn't resist. "Come on, let's go find out."
In his haste to reach you, his horse galloped ahead, easily leaping over a low log—unfortunately, not quite low enough for the prince. Yunho yelped as he was thrown into a shallow pond, landing with a splash. He groaned, unamused, as his horse sheepishly returned, having noticed his rider was no longer on board.
So much for chasing the magical voice. Now he was stuck with wet clothes, needing to dry off before he could continue his search.
"Why do they still treat me like a child? They never let me meet anyone..." you sighed, speaking to the animals gathered around you. "But guess what? I tricked them. I have met someone—a prince. He's tall, handsome, and... so romantic. We walk together, talk together, and just before we say goodbye, he takes me in his arms, and then..." you teased with a playful smile. "I wake up."
"Yes, it's only in my dreams."
Pushing aside your wistful thoughts, you continued to sing softly while gathering berries. But to your surprise, another voice joined in—a deep, masculine voice. Before you knew it, a pair of arms gently mirrored the way yours had been swaying in your daydream.
"Oh. Oh!" you gasped, pulling away as you realised this wasn't a dream. A man was standing before you, real and not imagined. Not wanting to frighten you, he kept his distance and bowed politely. "I'm terribly sorry. I didn't mean to startle you."
You blinked, trying to calm your racing heart as you took in his features—he looked exactly like the man you had seen in your dreams. "Oh, it's not that... it's just that you're a..."
As you instinctively stepped back, he gently reached for your hand. "A stranger?" he finished for you, and you nodded. Before you could pull away, he smiled and held on softly. "But don't you remember? We've met before."
"We... have?" you whispered, your voice faltering.
He nodded, a cheeky grin spreading across his face. "Of course. You said so yourself. Once upon a dream."
You couldn't help the smile tugging at your lips as you turned away, amused by how he cleverly quoted your song. At first, you resisted, but soon you found yourself in his arms, dancing to the tune you had been singing. Except this time, you were no longer alone—you were dancing with him.
As if caught in a dream, you eventually leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder as the two of you stood beneath a tree, gazing out at the beautiful view. His voice was soft when he asked, "Who are you? What's your name?"
"My name..." you started, staring up into his eyes, momentarily mesmerised by them. You almost gave him your name, but then reality hit you—you didn't even know him. With a gasp, you pulled away from his hold. "No, no, I can't. I—I have to go! Goodbye!"
Yunho panicked, not ready to let you slip away. Call it love at first sight, but he knew, deep down, you were the one. "But when will I see you again?" he called out, his eyes filled with longing as he watched you retreat into the forest.
"Tonight! At the cottage in the glen!" you blurted out, against your better judgement. Deep down, you couldn't bear the thought of leaving and never seeing him again either.
"This is the happiest day of my life!" you exclaimed, admiring the beautiful dress and the delicious cake your godmothers had made for you. "Everything is so perfect. Just wait until you meet him!"
"Him? Y-you've met a stranger?" one of the fairies asked, concerned.
You smiled dreamily. "Oh, he's not a stranger. We've met before—once upon a dream."
The fairies exchanged worried glances, their hearts breaking as they realised... you were in love. "Oh no, this is terrible. You're already betrothed."
"Betrothed?" Your heart sank.
"Since the day you were born, dear. To Prince Yunho."
You frowned in disbelief. "But that's impossible! How could I marry a prince? I'd have to be..."
"A princess," they finished for you. "And you are, dear. Tonight, we're taking you back to your father, King Stefan."
Shaking your head, you struggled to process the sudden revelation. "But... I can't! He's coming here tonight. I promised to meet him."
"We're sorry, child, but you must never see that young man again," one of them said softly.
It felt like a cruel joke. Just when you had finally met the man of your dreams, it all crumbled. That night, you cried yourself to sleep, your 16th birthday turning into something far from the magical day you had hoped for. And it was only going to get worse.
With a curse of eternal sleep.
"Oh, come now, Prince Yunho. Why so melancholy?" Maleficent's sinister voice echoed through the dungeon as he lifted his head, his hands shackled in heavy chains. She had trapped him during his visit to your vacant cottage and now kept him imprisoned on her Forbidden Mountain. "A wondrous future lies before you," she mocked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "You, the destined hero of a charming fairy tale come true."
With a wave of her hand over the glowing crystal ball atop her staff, she smirked. "Behold, King Stefan's castle." A vision slowly materialised in the crystal, and his heart sank.
"In the highest tower, dreaming of her true love, lies the princess," Maleficent sneered. "But in a cruel twist of fate, this sleeping beauty is none other than the peasant girl who won your heart just yesterday." Her grin widened as the image shifted. "In an ageless sleep, she rests, untouched by time. A hundred years will pass in the blink of an eye for a steadfast heart."
The crystal revealed an older, wearier version of His Highness. "And now, the gates of the dungeon open, and our valiant prince rides forth, tall and noble, to wake his love with a kiss—proving that true love conquers all!"
Her wicked laughter filled the air as the prince surged to his feet, straining against the chains. The revelation hit him hard—you were his betrothed all along. His heart shattered at the sight of you, cursed to an endless sleep. But he refused to wait idly for a century. No matter the cost, even if it took his life, nothing would stop him from reaching you and breaking the spell.
Through trials that nearly cost him his life more than once, Yunho pressed on, driven by a love that burned stronger than fear. Every step, every swing of his sword, had been for you. Now, as he climbed the winding staircase of the tower where you lay, his heart pounded louder than it ever had. Strangely, facing you was far more terrifying than battling a dragon or plummeting from a cliff.
What if his kiss didn't wake you? What if he wasn't the one you dreamed of all this time? His mind raced with doubts, but all of them vanished the moment he laid eyes on you.
There you were, peacefully resting, untouched by the passage of time. His breath caught in his throat as he knelt beside you, his hands trembling slightly, almost afraid that if he reached out, you might disappear like a fading dream. Gently, he lifted a hand to brush your hair away from your face, his fingers lingering as they drifted down to caress your cheek. The softness of your skin beneath his touch made his heart clench. God, you were beautiful. Even in this endless sleep, you were breathtaking, and the thought that you were his—the one his heart had longed for—was almost too much to believe.
Ignoring the wild rhythm of his heartbeat, he leaned in closer. He hesitated, his lips hovering above yours, terrified and hopeful. Slowly, he closed the distance, pressing his lips tenderly against yours, his touch as gentle as a whisper. Time seemed to stand still. His entire world narrowed down to that single, precious moment.
Then, something incredible happened. He felt you stir, your lips moving ever so softly in response to his. Tears welled up in his eyes as he pulled back slightly, his gaze searching your face, desperate to see the miracle of your awakening. "Please," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, "come back to me."
A soft smile played on your lips as your eyes fluttered open. "I'm here, stranger," you murmured. Yunho let out a tearful laugh, pure joy flooding his heart as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in for another kiss. Nothing had ever felt so perfect.
Yeosang ↠ Hercules (Hercules)
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• Strength • Determination • Humility •
A scream pierced the air, and without a second thought, Yeosang urged Pegasus to dive down past the clouds toward the waterfall, where a damsel was clearly in distress. This was it—his first real chance to prove himself as a true hero. Soon enough, he'd restore his godhood and join his parents back in Olympus.
"I swear, Nessus, put me down or I'll—" you growled, struggling in the grasp of the River Guardian, a centaur who was supposed to be an ally on your mission for Hades, but he was proving to be more trouble than he was worth.
"Ooh, I like 'em fiery," the creature sneered, pulling you closer as you tried in vain to wriggle free.
The hero-in-training gasped, his blood boiling at the sight of you being manhandled. Not on his watch. Ignoring his trainer's advice to assess the situation, he charged forward recklessly. Phil groaned. "This kid is losing hero points fast!"
"Halt!" Yeosang called out, though his voice wavered when Nessus towered over him. "Excuse me, sir," he continued, much to the centaur's surprise. Who was this polite little pest? "I'll have to ask you to release that young la—"
You shot him a frustrated look. "Keep walking, junior."
He blinked, confused. "But... aren't you a damsel in distress?"
"I'm a damsel, I'm in distress," you snapped. "I can handle it. Have a nice day." Despite your sarcastic smile, you were still stuck in the centaur's grip, struggling to break free.
Yeosang, however, wasn't one to give up so easily. A bit flustered by your brush-off, he unsheathed his sword. "Ma'am, I think you might be too close to the situation to—" Before he could finish, Nessus sent him flying across the field.
After several clumsy attempts and a lot of trial and error, he finally managed to free you from the River Guardian's hold, though you both ended up soaked in the river. Quickly, he lifted you out of the water as if you weighed nothing and set you gently on a nearby log. "Oh, gosh, miss, I'm really sorry. That was... kind of dumb."
"Yeah," you replied with a crooked smile, wringing out your hair. Before you could say anything more, he dashed back into the fray. You smirked, amused by his naive determination and innocent sense of righteousness. It had been a while since you'd seen such a genuine do-gooder. "Is Wonderboy here for real?"
"So, did they give you a name to go with all those rippling pectorals?" you teased, bending over to adjust the skirt of your dress.
The hero's mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water as he stared at you, now bathed in the golden light of the sunset. You were a sight for sore eyes—more beautiful than Aphrodite herself, he dared to think.
He chuckled nervously, stammering like a shy schoolboy. "Uh, I'm—I… uh…"
You smirked, standing back up and retrieving the shoes he had been awkwardly holding for you. "Are you always this articulate?"
"Yeosang!" he blurted out, watching you walk away. "My... my name's Yeosang!"
Making your way to a nearby log to sit down, you glanced up at him with a playful grin. "Yeosang, huh? I think I prefer Wonderboy."
He bit his lip, completely unaware of how poorly he was hiding his emotions. It was obvious to anyone that he was completely mesmerised by you. "So, how'd you get tangled up with that..."
"Pinhead with hooves? Oh, you know how men are. They think 'no' means 'yes' and 'get lost' means 'take me, I'm yours,'" you quipped, your voice dripping with sarcasm. He blinked, clearly confused by your response. You rolled your eyes and gestured toward his trainer. "Don't worry, shorty here will explain it to you later."
Phil shot you an irritated glare, but you just waved him off. "Well, thanks for everything, Yeo. It's been a real slice."
You had barely taken a few steps when the hero called after you again, his voice full of determination. "Wait! Can we give you a ride?"
You glanced at Pegasus and Phil, both clearly unimpressed with you, and smirked. "Nah, I'll be fine. I'm a big, tough girl. I tie my own sandals and everything."
Leaning in, you gave him a quick boop on the nose, chuckling as he stood there with that dreamy smile still plastered on his face. "Bye-bye, Wonderboy."
You hadn't expected to see him again so soon, but there he was, and you had to act fast. Running up to him, you let out a false cry. "Please! Help! There's been a terrible accident!" You hated dragging him into this, but with Hades holding your freedom hostage, you had no choice. You had to lure him into the trap.
The hero's face brightened the moment he saw you, your name escaping his lips with excitement. After his earlier failure in Thebes, seeing you lifted his spirits. He needed this—he needed you.
"Wonderboy! Yeosang! Thank goodness!" you exclaimed, stumbling into his arms with an air of desperation. His grip on you tightened protectively, his eyes wide with concern. "What's wrong?" he asked, his voice full of worry.
Sniffling, you wiped your fake tears away. "Outside of town... two little boys. They were playing in the gorge. There was a terrible rockslide. They're trapped!"
"Kids? Trapped? This is my chance! Come on!" Before you could object, he had already hoisted you onto Pegasus despite your protests. "No, wait! I... I have a terrible fear of heights!" But it was too late—you were already in the sky, holding on tightly as the wind whipped past.
When you finally arrived, he noticed how shaken you seemed. His brow furrowed in concern. "Are you okay?"
You nodded weakly. "I'll be fine." But even then, he gently pulled you close, helping you down. The flutter in your chest was unwelcome—you shouldn't feel this way. You stayed back, watching as he rushed forward, unaware of the Hydra waiting to destroy him. Hades had set it up perfectly, and this was Yeosang's end. You should have focused on your own survival, but you couldn't help whispering under your breath, "Get out of here while you still can..."
Despite everything, he wasn't deterred. Time and again, he fought against what seemed like a certain defeat, his determination unshakable. Even after facing near death, he refused to give up, ultimately defeating the monster.
As much as you hated to admit it, seeing him fight with such bravery and resolve stirred something inside you. His courage, his power—it only deepened your admiration for him.
"Wow, what a day," Yeosang said with a wide grin, descending the stairs into the picturesque garden. "First, that restaurant by the bay, and then the play!" His voice was animated, clearly still buzzing from the events of your date. Meanwhile, you struggled to maintain your smile, Hades' voice echoing in your mind with his latest demand. His patience was thinning after so many failed attempts. Now, he wanted you to find the hero's weakness.
When he turned to you, thanking you for such a wonderful time, you winced inwardly. "Don't thank me just yet," you muttered, setting your plan into motion. You deliberately tripped on the stairs, conveniently falling into his strong arms.
"Oops! Weak ankles," you murmured, biting your lip as you savoured the feeling of being so close to him. His grip was firm yet gentle.
"Yeah? Maybe you should sit down for a bit," he suggested like the gentleman he always was, carrying you over to a bench and setting you down with care. But how long would he stay a gentleman?
You shrugged, letting one of your dress straps slide down your shoulder, flashing him a seductive smile. "So, do you have any problems like this?" you asked, testing the waters as you slowly lifted one leg onto his lap. "Weak ankles, I mean."
His eyes widened, and he cleared his throat, gently but firmly pushing your leg back down. "Oh, no. Not really..." he stammered, inching away while you leaned in closer.
"No weaknesses at all?" you teased, pressing against his chest. "No trick knee? Ruptured discs?"
Yeosang just chuckled nervously, his face reddening. Instead of falling for your flirtation, he reached over and pulled your strap back over your shoulder. "Nope. I'm... fit as a fiddle," he said, quickly moving away toward the fountain, where he clumsily tossed a coin and knocked over a statue.
You sighed, walking over to him. "Wonderboy, you're perfect," you muttered with a teasing laugh. Time seemed to freeze as your eyes met his, a flicker of something different passing between you. Biting your lip, you quickly looked away. Maybe, just maybe, he really was different from the men who had hurt you before.
"You know, when I was a kid, I would've given anything to be just like everyone else," Yeosang said softly, his eyes tracing the path of a shooting star across the night sky.
You scoffed, crossing your arms as you moved away to sit by the water, staring at your reflection with a bitter frown. "You wanted to be petty and dishonest?" You knew what people were like—you were one of them.
His smile faltered. "Not everyone's like that."
"Yes, they are," you whispered, more to yourself than to him.
"You're not like that," he said gently, appearing behind you. You smirked, feeling a tightness in your throat as you tried to keep your emotions in check. "How do you know what I'm like?" you croaked, wishing he'd stop making it so hard for you.
"All I know is you're the most amazing person with weak ankles I've ever met," he teased, his voice full of warmth. You chuckled until he continued, "When I'm with you, I don't feel so alone."
You avoided his gaze, your heart aching. "Sometimes it's better to be alone."
His smile faltered again. "What do you mean?"
You swallowed hard, your voice barely a whisper. "Nobody can hurt you."
He sat down beside you, reaching out to take your hands in his. "I would never, ever hurt you."
If only he knew...
Before you could say anything, he was already leaning in. Against your better judgement, your eyes fluttered closed, anticipation hanging between you. But just as your lips were about to meet, Pegasus and Phil appeared, breaking the moment and pulling Yeosang back to his training.
"I'm sorry for getting you in trouble," you murmured, feeling conflicted.
He just smiled, shaking his head, and handed you a small flower, gently pressing a kiss to your cheek. As he walked away, you were left behind—completely a mess.
"Wonderboy, why did you…?" you croaked, your voice weak after returning from death—literally. Yeosang had been crushed when he learned of your betrayal, discovering you had been working for Hades all along. But as you sacrificed yourself to save him, he realised none of that mattered anymore. Why hadn't he thought deeper about your reasons? If only he had understood that maybe you didn't have a choice.
In his selfless determination to exchange his life for yours, he had finally become a true hero. Tears welled up in his eyes as he helped you to your feet, pulling you gently back into his loving arms. "People always do crazy things when they're in love," he whispered—the same words you had said to him before your death.
So, he had felt the same all along.
"Now, at last, my son, you can come home," Zeus said, resting a proud hand on Yeosang's shoulder as he gestured to the now-open gates of Mount Olympus. The hero, now a god, beamed as the other gods swarmed him, celebrating his return.
From afar, you watched with a fading smile. Of course, he belonged to a different world. You were foolish to think you could ever truly be with him. "Congratulations, Wonderboy. You'll make one heck of a god," you whispered to yourself, turning to walk away.
But while the heavens rejoiced, Yeosang only had eyes for one person. His heart sank when he saw you leaving. "Father, this is the moment I've dreamed of my whole life, but…" He trailed off, racing after you and catching your hand. "A life without her, even an immortal life, would be empty. I… I wish to stay on Earth with her. I finally know where I belong."
And with that, he pulled you into his arms, the divine glow fading as he leaned in, his lips meeting yours at last.
San ↠ Kristoff (Frozen)
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• Down-to-earth • Hardworking • Quirky •
"I was just wondering... has another young woman, maybe the queen, passed through here?" you asked, trying to sound casual, even though the bitter cold from Elsa's winter had you shivering uncontrollably. You were gathering what supplies you could from Wandering Oaken's Trading Post on your journey to find your sister. You needed to fix this, and to do that, she had to return to Arendelle.
"The only one crazy enough to be out in this storm is you, dear," the store owner chuckled, and you offered him an awkward smile. Before you could respond, the door suddenly swung open and slammed shut just as quickly. A man, completely covered in snow—literally—stepped in with a weary sigh, shaking off the frost by the entrance.
"You and this fellow," Oaken added, gesturing to the newcomer.
Without a word, the man walked straight to the counter, forcing you to step aside awkwardly. "Carrots," he muttered, stepping closer.
"Huh?" you blinked, confused by how close he was.
"Behind you," he clarified, and you realised you were blocking the carrots he was reaching for. Feeling a bit foolish, you quickly moved aside. "Oh! Right, sorry."
Through his conversation with the store owner, you caught a crucial piece of information. "The North Mountain..." you murmured to yourself, eyes narrowing in thought. That must be where Elsa had gone. At least now you had a lead—north it was.
"That'll be forty," Oaken said, ringing up the man's items.
"Forty? No, ten," the man countered, clearly unimpressed.
Deep in thought, you barely registered the tense negotiation between the two, both stubborn and unwilling to compromise. You only snapped back when you heard the man explain his dilemma—he sold ice for a living, and in this weather, he wasn't making any money. "Look, ten is all I've got. Help me out."
Before Oaken could respond, you jumped in. "Wait, just tell me one thing. What's happening on the North Mountain? Did it seem… magical?" There was desperation in your voice.
With an exasperated sigh, the man pulled down his scarf, revealing, to your surprise, a strikingly handsome face. For a second, you had thought him a brute. "Yes! Now back off while I deal with this crook."
Big mistake. The store owner stood up from his seat, towering over the both of you like a giant. "What did you call me?" And before the man knew it, he was tossed out of the shop—minus his carrots.
"Nice duet," you quipped, pushing open the door to the shack where you heard the man from earlier, now singing and impersonating his reindeer, Sven.
Startled, San jumped up defensively, only to relax with a sigh when he saw it was just you. "It's you again. What do you want?"
Taking a deep breath, you stepped forward with determination. "I want you to take me up the North Mountain."
He remained unimpressed, sinking back down to resume his sleep. "I don't take people places."
You should've known it wouldn't be that easy. "Let me rephrase," you said, tossing a bag at him. He jolted up, wheezing from the impact. "Take me up the North Mountain," you repeated more firmly, though you softened a little as he raised a brow. "Please?"
Sven started sniffing the bag, drawing his attention. San opened it to find the tools he'd been after. You bit your lip. "Look, I know how to stop this winter."
With a sigh, he pulled his beanie over his face. "Ugh, we leave at dawn." Just as you were about to celebrate, he added, "And you forgot the carrots for Sven."
Frustrated but undeterred, you hurled another bag at him, this time hitting him square in the face. He grunted in pain, sitting up again. Your eyes widened in panic. "Oops! Sorry! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean—" you stammered before regaining your composure. Clearing your throat, you declared firmly, "We leave now. Right now." You turned and marched out, letting out a breath of relief the moment you were out of sight. He really was intimidating.
Unbeknownst to you, he watched you leave, eyebrows narrowed. Not out of anger, but something else—a mix of mild annoyance and, oddly enough, admiration. You were quite the character.
"So, uhh, tell me—what made the queen go all ice-crazy?" San asked, trying to pry some information as the two of you sat on his sled, the cold winter night biting at your skin.
You gulped, unsure where to begin. "Well... it was kinda my fault. I got engaged, and she freaked out because I'd just met him that day, you know? She refused to bless the marriage and..." You trailed off, noticing the way he was staring at you.
"Wait, hold on—you got engaged to someone you just met that day?" he asked, his face a mix of disbelief and judgement.
You nodded, waving it off like it was no big deal. "Yeah, anyway, I got mad, she got mad, she tried to leave, and I grabbed her glove..."
He blinked and turned fully towards you. "Hang on! You're telling me you got engaged to a guy you just met that day?"
"Yes," you sighed in frustration. "Pay attention. The point is, she always wore gloves, so I figured maybe she has a thing about dirt or something."
San couldn't believe what he was hearing. You'd agreed to marry someone you'd only met that very day? Even if that someone was a prince, at the end of the day, he was just another man. The idea of it baffled him to no end. He couldn't help the surge of protectiveness that welled up in him. Sure, you seemed a little silly and unhinged compared to the girls he'd met, but you were still an innocent young woman—too trusting for your own good. And that could get you in serious trouble.
If judgemental had a face, it was sitting right next to you. "Didn't your parents ever warn you about strangers?"
You paused, the comment sinking in, and shifted uncomfortably, inching away from him. "Yes, they did. But Hans isn't a stranger."
He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. That led to a back-and-forth about how much you really knew the Prince of the Southern Isles. The more you talked, the more San found himself silently shaking his head at your naivety, though he couldn't help but feel a small, growing fondness for you, as crazy as your story was.
Suddenly, he stiffened. "Stop talking."
You scoffed, still mid-argument. "No, no—"
Before you could finish, he slapped a hand over your mouth. "No, I mean it," his voice tense, eyes scanning the dark forest ahead.
"Wolves?" you asked anxiously, your heart pounding so hard it felt like it might leap out of your chest. "What do we do?"
"I got this," he said, busy moving around like he knew exactly what he was doing. But your nerves wouldn’t let you sit still. "Just… don't fall off and don't get eaten."
You frowned, stepping up beside him. "But I want to help!"
"No!" he barked, pulling you back.
"Why not?!"
"Because I don't trust your judgement!"
Your jaw dropped. "Excuse me?"
"Who marries a guy she just met?!" he shouted as he pushed you behind him and kicked away a wolf that had nearly pounced on you.
"It's true love!" you yelled back, swinging his guitar wildly. Startling him, but you managed to knock another wolf away. "Woah!"
Slightly impressed, he froze for a second, but in that moment of distraction, a wolf sank its teeth into his jacket, pulling him off the sled. You gasped, screaming, "Santiago!"
He grunted, grabbing onto the sled's rope, and glaring up at you. "It's San!"
"Ow!" he yelped as the wolves bit into his back. Despite barely knowing him, your heart dropped, hoping he wasn't seriously hurt. In a burst of quick thinking, you grabbed a bundle of cloth, lit it on fire, and threw it at the wolves, scaring them off.
As you regained control, you realised the sled was speeding toward the edge of a mountain. Your breath caught in your throat—the only way to make it across was if the reindeer jumped. "Get ready to jump, Sven!"
San shot you a look. "You don't tell him what to do. I do!" He shoved a bag into your arms before tossing you onto Sven's back. As you neared the cliff's edge, he shouted and cut the rope tying the reindeer to the sled. "Jump, Sven!"
After landing dangerously close to the mountain's edge, San's sled lay in ruins below, and he muttered something about just having paid it off. The narrow escape from death weighed heavily on you, especially when you saw him lying on the ground, an arm thrown over his eyes in sheer exhaustion. He was so done.
"I-I'll replace your sled and everything in it," you mumbled, guilt creeping into your voice. "And... I get it if you don't want to help me anymore." With a heavy sigh, you turned and started walking away, your heart sinking. Of course, he wouldn't want to stick around now. You'd caused him nothing but trouble, and he hadn't even volunteered to come with you—it was all your fault.
San groaned in frustration, his reindeer nudging him persistently, nodding toward your retreating, disheartened figure. "Of course, I don't want to help her anymore," he grumbled, sitting up. "This whole mess has cured me of ever helping anyone again."
"She'll die out there on her own," Sven's eyes seemed to say.
"I can live with that," San muttered, though his voice lacked confidence.
"But no new sled if she's dead!" The silent reasoning gnawed at him.
He slumped, casting an irritated glare at Sven. "Sometimes, I really don't like you." But as he heard you stumbling and fumbling your way through the snow, likely still trying to reach your sister, he rolled his eyes in dramatic defeat before shouting, "Hold up! We're coming!"
You turned around, your face lighting up before playing it off coolly. "You are? I mean... sure, you can tag along."
He chuckled, shaking his head, though he couldn't quite hide the smile tugging at his lips. Maybe, just maybe, he found you... kind of adorable. In fact, you were probably the most adorable person he'd ever met, if he were being honest. Not that you needed to know that. Hans was a lucky guy... maybe.
As the journey dragged on, San found himself increasingly drawn to you in ways he hadn't anticipated. He had written you off as reckless, even naïve. But the more time he spent by your side, the more he found himself softening.
It began with the small things—your silly jokes, the way you smiled at him even in the direst of situations, and the surprising concern you showed for his struggling ice business, despite the weight of your own problems. A part of him tried to deny it, chalking up his protectiveness to simply being a decent person. Yet, as the days went on, the truth became harder to ignore, especially as you started to weaken.
The first time he truly noticed was when you faltered, clutching your chest as the icy curse gripped you. His heart clenched painfully at the sight of you, pale and fragile in a way that scared him. At first, he didn't understand what was happening—until he saw the streaks of white creeping into your hair. His stomach twisted in fear as he watched you shiver uncontrollably.
San tried to fight it at first, keeping his feelings hidden behind casual smiles and forced reassurances. He'd wrap you in his cloak, telling himself that he was just looking out for you like anyone else would. But inside, he was terrified. Each time you winced or stumbled, the protective instinct inside him flared, and it became harder to ignore. He wanted to hold you, to keep you safe, but he told himself that keeping his distance was for the best.
Until it wasn't.
After watching you grow weaker, he couldn't stand it any longer. You were so cold, so frail, barely able to keep yourself upright. Your hair had turned almost entirely white, and the violent shivering never stopped. When you could no longer walk on your own, San didn't care anymore. He scooped you into his arms without hesitation, cradling your fragile body against his chest. Your icy fingers clung weakly to his sleeve, barely able to hold on.
Perhaps the trolls had been right. Maybe what you needed was true love's kiss. The thought sent a wave of fear through him, not because he doubted it, but because he wanted it to be him. Holding you close, trembling as he tried to keep you warm, he swallowed hard, fighting back the lump in his throat.
"We've got to get you back to Hans," he whispered, though the name felt like a sharp blade twisting in his chest.
"A-are you g-gonna be okay?" you asked, voice weak and trembling as you struggled to stay conscious. Your eyes fluttered open, full of worry, and San's heart ached even more.
He forced a smile, though the pain in his chest was undeniable. "Don't worry about me," he said, though the crack in his voice betrayed him. He couldn't tell you the truth—that the very thought of giving you to Hans was tearing him apart.
As he left the castle gates, his arms now empty without your fragile form, the weight of his feelings bore down on him, suffocating. Even Sven could sense it. His reindeer nudged him softly, as if to say, you can't let her go.
San clenched his jaw, shaking his head at the reindeer's knowing gaze. "No, Sven! We're not going back! She's with her true love."
But none of that mattered the moment he noticed the fierce snowstorm suddenly engulfing Arendelle. His eyes widened with panic as he realised something was terribly wrong. Without a second thought, he sprinted back toward the castle, his heart racing, your name ripping from his throat as he shouted through the howling winds.
Snow and ice whipped through the air, blinding San as he fought against the wind, desperately searching for you. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat louder than the roar of the storm. Then, through the blizzard, he saw you—a frail figure swaying weakly amidst the violent storm.
His breath hitched, a strangled cry escaping him as he realised how dire your condition was. Your hair was completely white, and your skin had started to turn into a translucent blue, as if turning to ice. Panic surged through him, and without hesitation, he dashed toward you, every muscle in his body straining against the storm.
You took tiny, shaky steps towards him, your voice barely audible above the howling wind. "San..." The way you uttered his name sent a jolt through him, a painful reminder of just how close he was to losing you. He pushed himself harder, the distance between you seeming to stretch endlessly.
"Hold on!" he shouted, though he wasn't sure if you could hear him over the storm. He could see the effort it took for you to move, each step a struggle against the encroaching ice.
Just when he thought he might finally reach you, you changed direction abruptly. His heart stopped as he watched you rush towards your sister, trying to protect her from Hans. The realisation hit him like a thunderclap: in your attempt to shield your sister, you were sacrificing yourself.
He watched in horror as you turned completely into ice, your form crystallising before his eyes. The storm seemed to quiet for a moment, a heavy silence descending as you stood there, frozen.
Desperation clawed at him, and he fought through the storm to reach you. When you returned to your normal state, he was already there, cradling you in his arms. He refused to be a coward again, not after everything you had been through. The fear of losing you was unbearable, and he was determined not to let go.
Holding you close, he buried his face in your hair, breathing in your warmth, feeling your heartbeat against his chest. "I'm not letting you go," he whispered fiercely, his voice breaking with emotion. "Not now, not ever. If you'll let me, I'll hold you close forever."
His heart ached as he clung to you, the world around him fading into insignificance. The storm may have raged on, but in that moment, all that mattered was you.
Mingi ↠ Flynn Rider (Tangled)
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• Charm • Wit • Adventurous •
"Is this… hair?" Mingi croaked in confusion as his eyes fluttered open to the unexpected realisation that he was tied up. The last thing he remembered was climbing up a tower hidden in the forest to escape from the royal guards and the Stabbington brothers.
"Struggling…" came a feminine voice from somewhere in the shadows. "Struggling is pointless."
He furrowed his brows. "Huh?"
"I know why you're here, and I'm not afraid of you," you said, gripping your frying pan tightly as you slowly emerged from your corner and finally stepped into the light.
Oh me, oh my. What do we have here?
The intruder looked genuinely confused as he took a moment to register your appearance. You were a sight to behold, that much was undeniable, but you were also threatening him with a kitchen tool, and truthfully, he wasn't very into that.
"Who are you and how did you find me?" you asked, glaring at him.
But man, were you beautiful.
"Uh huh…" was all he could muster.
Frustrated, you repeated yourself, raising your weapon higher. "Who are you and how did you find me?"
Clearing his throat, he began his rehearsed speech for situations like this. He had yet to meet any lady who wouldn't fall for his charms. As much as he would love to hang around, he had more important things to do. "I know not who you are nor how I came to find you, but may I just say…" He looked down momentarily, then met your gaze again with a rather... questionable expression. "Hi. How you doin'? The name's Flynn Rider. How's your day goin', huh?"
To his surprise, your hostility persisted. "Who else knows my location?" you demanded, aiming the pan at him.
Man, how did the smoulder not work?
Mingi let out a long sigh, staring ahead in exasperation as you ran circles around him with boundless enthusiasm. Lord, how did he get himself into this? He was stuck in this ridiculous situation because he needed the crown he had just stolen from the palace. The deal was simple: he would take you to see the lanterns and bring you back.
But he had no time for that.
Determined to avoid the whole ordeal, he hatched a foolproof plan. He would take you to the Snuggly Duckling, a tavern with a motley crew of thugs and ruffians. Surely that would scare you off.
As you twirled around, he muttered under his breath, "This is going to work. It has to work."
You paused mid-spin. "Did you say something?"
"Nothing!" he replied, forcing a smile. "Just… thinking about how much fun we're going to have."
He let out a sigh of relief as the Snuggly Duckling came into view. He couldn't help but grin at the look of horror that flashed across your face when you saw the rowdy tavern. This was going perfectly.
"You don't look so good, blondie. Maybe we should get you home, call it a day. This is a five-star joint, after all. If you can't handle this place, maybe you should be back in your tower," he said, trying to sound sympathetic while suppressing a smirk.
Just as he thought his plan was working, Mingi cursed under his breath as the main door slammed shut, and a burly man pressed a "Wanted" poster of him against it.
"Is this you?" the man growled, squinting at the poster.
Crap, crap, crap. This is not good.
The thief's eyes widened in dread as he moved the man's finger off the painting of his nose. His heart sank even further. They had gotten his nose wrong... again.
"Now they're just being mean," he muttered to himself, more upset about the artistic injustice than the actual danger he was in.
The last thing Mingi expected happened. As the thugs closed in, you suddenly began to sing a silly little song about having a dream. At first, he stared at you in disbelief, but then something miraculous happened. The roughest and toughest of the bunch started to join in, swayed by your infectious innocence and charm.
A reluctant smile soon spread across his face. As impractical as it seemed, your innocence had saved you both. "I can't believe that worked," he muttered, watching the formerly hostile crowd now swaying together harmoniously.
But the relief was short-lived.
The doors burst open, and royal guards flooded the tavern. "There he is!" one of the guards shouted.
"Time to go!" He grabbed your hand, pulling you towards a hidden exit. The chase led you to a dangerous cave, the sound of the guards echoing behind you.
The thief's adventurous spirit shone brightly as he led you through perilous situations, always thinking on his feet and embracing the thrill. He expertly navigated the cave, his confidence never wavering even as the path grew treacherous.
But things took a dire turn when the cave began to collapse. Rocks tumbled down, trapping you both under the debris. Water started to fill the cave, and panic set in. Despite his fear, he remained focused. He pulled you out of the water when you dipped back under, refusing to let you drown.
"Hey, there's no point. It's pitch-black down there," he said, gently moving some hair out of your face, his eyes filled with a rare vulnerability.
You felt a pang of guilt as you saw the hopelessness in his expression. "This is all my fault," you whimpered. "Mother was right. I never should have done this. I'm so sorry, Flynn," you cried.
He sighed, gazing at you sobbing pitifully before whispering, "Mingi."
"What?" you turned to look at him, confused.
"My real name is Song Mingi. Someone might as well know."
You smiled softly through your tears. "I have magical hair that glows when I sing."
His eyes widened in exasperation. "What?"
Just as he thought he couldn't possibly be more amazed, his admiration and affection for you only grew. He watched in awe as you healed his injury with your glowing hair, the pain ebbing away under your touch. Listening to your story, he saw the depth of your courage and determination, traits he deeply admired.
For the first time in his life, Mingi felt comfortable enough to open up about himself. He let down all the walls he had built over the years, sharing his dreams, fears, and the loneliness that had always shadowed him. Something had changed since then, and neither of you had been more certain about your feelings for each other than on the night of your birthday.
He had kept his promise and taken you to see the lanterns. As you both floated on the water, surrounded by the magical glow of thousands of lanterns, he realised that seeing you happy meant more to him than the riches he had dreamed about for so long. This moment, this connection, you—mattered more than anything.
The thief realised that none of the money or recognition would ever mean anything if it meant being without you. Perhaps Flynn Rider was so much more than just a witty and adventurous prince; he was also a romantic at heart. This truth became painfully clear as he prepared to sacrifice his own life to free you, the love of his life, from the clutches of your kidnapper.
On the verge of his own death, he made a heartbreaking decision. He would rather cut your hair, stripping it of its magical properties before you could save him, than allow Mother Gothel to use you any further. With a swift motion, he severed your once-blonde hair, watching as it returned to its original colour.
"Mingi!" you cried, watching in despair as the magic faded. You pulled him into your arms, cradling his face. "No, no, no. Mingi," you pleaded desperately. "Look at me. I'm right here. Don't go. Stay with me."
He smiled weakly, his strength fading. He cupped your face with a trembling hand. "You were my new dream."
Your heart shattered as tears streamed down your cheeks. His hand fell limp beside him, his eyes closing as his life slipped away.
"And you were mine," you whispered, your voice breaking as you held him close, the pain of losing him overwhelming.
But things took a miraculous turn. Your magic, which had always been tied to your hair, still remained in the essence of your tears. As you cried over him, a single tear fell onto his face, glowing brightly before seeping into his skin.
Suddenly, his breath hitched, and his eyes fluttered open. Life returned to him as the magic worked its way through his body. You gasped, pulling him closer, barely able to believe what was happening.
"Mingi!" you exclaimed, joy and relief flooding your heart.
He looked at you, his eyes filled with wonder and gratitude. "You're magic," he whispered, holding you tightly. Without another word, he pressed his lips firmly against yours, pouring all his love and thankfulness into the kiss.
As he held you close, he silently thanked the heavens for granting him a second chance at life. He vowed to start over and be a better person for his princess. At that moment, everything felt right, and he knew that his new life with you would be the greatest adventure of all.
Wooyoung ↠ Aladdin (Aladdin)
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• Energetic • Street-smart • Charismatic •
"Hey! You there, stealing from my brother!" the merchant barked through the bustling market as you handed two starving children the bread you had taken.
You blinked, caught off guard. "Stealing? No, I—"
"You either pay, or I take the bracelet," he sneered, his hand reaching for your mother's bracelet clasped around your wrist. "Let go of me!" you cried, struggling in his grip.
Before the situation could escalate, someone swooped in and pulled you free, placing you protectively behind him. "Easy, Jamal," the young man said calmly, trying to diffuse the situation. But the merchant only glared at you. "Kalil turns his back for a moment, and this one," he jabbed a finger toward you, "steals the bread!"
You huffed in frustration. "Those children were starving!"
The young man sighed, turning to you and lowering his voice. "Do you have any money?" You shook your head. He smiled softly, then gripped your bracelet. "Okay, trust me." Something in his gaze made you feel secure, so you did—against all odds, you trusted him.
You watched in disbelief as he removed your bracelet and handed it over to the merchant. "Here, this is what you wanted, right?"
The merchant grinned, satisfied. "Yeah, thank you!"
"And here's an apple, for your troubles," the young man added with a grin, tossing the merchant a fruit before quickly pulling you away, ignoring your protests. "Hey! I'm not leaving without my bracelet!"
He pulled you closer as you hurried through the market. "You mean this bracelet?" he murmured, revealing the very same bracelet in his hand. Instantly, your worry melted. "Come on."
As you both moved, you suddenly heard the merchant shout behind you, "Wooyoung! Jung Wooyoung! Thief!"
You turned, your breath catching. "Are we in trouble?" you asked. He smirked, his confidence unwavering.
"Only if we get caught."
"I can't believe..." you trailed off, staring at the breathtaking view from his balcony. "I can't believe we actually did that. That I did that. That we made it out alive!" you exclaimed, still reeling from the intense chase that had led you here. You couldn't shake the memory of him holding your hands, guiding you to safety.
"Thank you... for getting me out of there. Wooyoung, right?" you smiled bashfully, and he rubbed the back of his neck, a little shy. "You're welcome..." he gestured toward you, waiting for your name.
You froze for a split second. "I... I'm Dalia," you blurted out, using your handmaid's name as a cover. No one could know your true identity—not even him.
"Dalia... from the palace," he said, his tone more knowing than surprised. You stayed silent, your back to him. How did he— "Only someone from the palace could afford a bracelet like that," he continued. "And that silk? It's imported, comes straight to the palace from the merchant ships. But not for most servants, which means... you're the handmaid to the princess."
You sighed, finally turning to meet his eyes, a small smile on your lips. "Impressive."
"If you think that's impressive, you should see the city from up there," he said, pointing to the second floor of his humble home. You didn't need to be told twice and eagerly headed up. "Agrabah... it's beautiful. I really should get out more."
He chuckled. "You should tell the princess that." Your smile faded slowly. "The people haven't seen her in years."
Your fists clenched slightly. "They won't let her. Ever since... the queen was killed, the sultan's been terrified. She's kept locked away."
He looked down, a touch of sadness in his voice. "Seems like everyone's been living in fear since then. But the people of Agrabah loved her. The queen."
Your heart warmed at his words. "They did, didn't they?"
As the conversation shifted to his past, you were saddened to learn of the hardships he had endured. He sighed deeply. "Every day I hope things will change, but it never seems to. Sometimes, I feel like I'm just..."
"Trapped," you finished for him, your voice soft. "Like you can't escape what you were born into?" He nodded, meeting your gaze. For a moment, you thought you could trust him. But that hope wavered when he struggled to return your bracelet at your departure.
"So you are a thief," you said, your voice tinged with disappointment. "I'm so naive."
"But Dalia, I was born for more than just marrying some useless prince!" you argued after meeting yet another potential suitor from Skanland that afternoon.
Your handmaid sighed. "If you had to marry a useless prince, you could certainly do worse than this one. He's tall, handsome, and yes, a bit dim, but it's just a marriage. Although, I suspect you'd rather marry that boy from the market," she finished, and you scoffed.
As she went off to prepare your bath, there was a knock at your door. With a frown, you opened it. "Can I help you?" you asked, and the person turned around. Your eyes widened in shock. "You? You! What are you doing here? Get in here!"
Wooyoung smirked. "I came to return your bracelet."
"My bracelet? Where is it?"
"On your wrist," he replied, and you gasped, glancing down to see it securely in place. "Wait, how did you get past the guards?" you asked in disbelief.
He grinned mischievously. "That was tricky, but I have my ways. While the princess is out, how about a stroll? We can chat."
You crossed your arms, half-irritated, half-amused. "You are unbelievable," you muttered, annoyed at his audacity but even more so at how attractive he was. "You can't just break into the palace and act like you own the place!"
"If you don't have anything, you've got to act like you own everything," he shrugged, flashing a grin. You stared at him, realising you'd never met anyone like him—because no one was like him. "So, what do you say?"
"No! You need to leave, now!" you insisted, pushing him toward the door.
"Fine, but I'm coming back tomorrow," he said confidently. "Meet me in the courtyard by the fountain when the moon is above the minaret." He gestured behind him, and before you could react, he removed your hair clip, waving it teasingly. "To return this."
Your breath caught when he leaned closer, gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. His voice was a whisper. "I promise." Perhaps you were a fool; you should have known better than to believe him.
The next time you saw him, you barely recognised him, thanks to the Genie's magic. He was now Prince Young of Wonderland—a clumsy prince who seemed to be trying to "buy" you with his riches, or at least that was what he said, as he awkwardly stumbled over his words. His first impression was far from impressive, and despite his best efforts, nothing he did seemed to win you over.
After countless failed attempts, he finally realised what he needed to do: just be himself. "There's a whole world beyond these books and maps. You should see it."
"How? Every door is guarded," you replied, a bit wistful.
"Who said anything about a door? Sometimes, princess, you just have to take a risk," he said with a grin before climbing over your balcony and leaping off. You gasped, your hands flying to your mouth, heart in your throat. "What just happened?"
Moments later, he reappeared on a floating carpet. You sighed in relief. "Is this…?"
"A magic carpet? Yes," he smirked, offering his hand. "Do you trust me?" Your heart skipped a beat as those words echoed something familiar. "What did you say?" you croaked. He repeated, his eyes steady on yours. "Do you trust me?"
You hesitated before nodding and placing your hand in his. "Yes."
As the carpet soared over a village, you watched the people below celebrating around a fire. You smiled as the prince draped his coat around your shoulders. "Of all the places you've shown me, this is the most beautiful."
"Sometimes, you just have to see it from a different perspective," he replied. You shook your head gently. "No, it's them—the people. They make it beautiful. And they deserve a leader who understands that. I don't know why I think it could be me."
He turned to you, his expression sincere. "Because it should be you."
"Do you really think so?" you asked softly. He reached out, gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, and for a moment, you froze. Only one other person had done that before—
"Does it matter what I think?" he asked, breaking the spell.
By the end of the night, you learned he was who you had suspected all along, though you were now convinced he had been a prince from the start. Wooyoung, caught up in the joy of the moment, kissed you goodnight, only to later drown in constant guilt and worry that the lie he was still hiding could ruin everything.
But none of that mattered when you discovered it had all been a lie. Even caught up in the battle against Jafar, Wooyoung was still the one you trusted most. And you knew you were right to trust him because, despite the difficult situation, he chose to return to your side and protect you. His actions proved his genuine care for you.
Your feelings for him deepened when he made his third and final wish. Instead of using it to abolish the law that required the princess to marry royalty, he selflessly used it to free the Genie.
"You shall be the next sultan," your father said. "As sultan, you can change the law." He gestured to where Wooyoung had stood moments earlier, but now he was gone. Your heart sank, and your father gently nudged you. "Go after him before it's too late."
And you did just that.
Breathless, you found him only a few steps outside the palace, your hair clip still in his hands. "Stop, thief! Your sultan commands it!" you called after him, your tone teasing.
He turned, biting his lip and holding up the clip. "Sultan? Does that mean I'm in trouble?"
Your heart fluttered at those familiar words. With a smile, you approached him. "Only because you got caught," you whispered before kissing him. The crowd around you erupted in cheers as he pulled you close, returning your kiss with equal passion. At that moment, he realised his wish had come true after all.
Jongho ↠ Prince Eric (Little Mermaid)
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• Kind-hearted • Brave • Dependable •
"Max! Come here, boy," the man on board called out to his dog, who had momentarily been distracted by your presence near the side of the ship. Your eyes widened as you took in his striking features—he was human. You'd never seen one this closely before.
Carefully staying hidden, you continued to watch as an elderly man stepped forward to quiet the crew. "Silence, silence. It is now my honour and privilege to present our esteemed Prince Jongho with a very special, very expensive, and very large birthday present," he announced, gesturing toward a massive object draped in cloth at the center of the ship.
"Ah, Grimsby, you old beanpole, you shouldn't have," said the handsome man, whose name you now know to be Jongho and that he was... a prince.
The old man smiled bashfully. "I know. Happy birthday, Jongho." With that, the cloth was pulled away to reveal a heroic statue of the prince. Instead of reacting as Grimsby had likely hoped, the prince grimaced slightly. "Uh, gee, Grim..." he cleared his throat awkwardly. "It's, uh... really something..."
"Yes, I commissioned it myself. I had hoped it would be a wedding gift." Grimsby's tone was hopeful, but Jongho just chuckled. "Come on, Grim. Don't start. You're not still upset that I didn't fall for the Princess of Glowerhaven, are you?"
"Oh my, it's not just me. The entire kingdom wants to see you happily settled down with the right girl."
Jongho smiled, leaning against the railing. "Well, she's out there somewhere. I just... haven't found her yet. But trust me, Grim, when I do, I'll know. It'll hit me, like lightning—no question about it."
Your heart fluttered as you listened from just below. You'd never felt this way about any merman, but you wanted to be that girl for him. He seemed so near, yet impossibly far at the same time.
Perhaps he shouldn't have said those words—maybe he jinxed it. What started as a cheerful celebration turned into chaos within seconds, as lightning struck and set the ship ablaze.
You watched anxiously from the sidelines, praying he'd be alright. But your heart sank when you saw him dive back into the ocean from a lifeboat, only to return to the ship to save his dog. Though he managed to rescue the pet, he put himself in grave danger, trapped as the ship exploded. Gasping, you swam toward him, just in time to see him weakly cling to a plank before slipping into the water.
Without hesitation, you dove in, gripping his larger frame and fighting through the waves to bring him to the surface. With sheer determination, you swam to shore, finally laying him on the sand as the sun began to rise.
"Thank goodness, he's still breathing. He's... beautiful," you whispered, gently brushing his wet hair and caressing his cheek. As you sang softly, a familiar tune you'd often hum when dreaming of life on land and now... of him, you saw his eyes flutter open. He smiled at you, placing his hand over yours.
Before you could say a word, you heard Grimsby's voice echo along the beach. In a flash, you were gone before Jongho could fully grasp what had happened.
"Jongho! Oh, Jongho! You really enjoy testing my poor heart, don't you?" the old man grumbled, helping him up.
"A girl... she saved me. She was singing... with the most beautiful voice," the prince murmured dreamily, his eyes still scanning the horizon. Grimsby chuckled. "Ah, Jongho, I believe you've swallowed a bit too much seawater."
You watched from afar, your heart aching as they walked away. Did he feel the same way you did? Was this... love? Because you missed him already.
Humming the melody that had lingered in his mind ever since you rescued him, Jongho was interrupted by the sudden arrival of his dog. Max sprinted across the sandy beach, barking and leaping excitedly at his owner. "What's up, boy?"
The dog darted forward, and without hesitation, he chased after him. You gasped when Max ran up to you, quickly scooting back onto a rock to keep your distance from the unfamiliar animal.
"Max? What's gotten into you?" the prince's voice called out as he appeared, just in time to see his dog circling you. His breath caught when his eyes landed on you. "Oh... I see."
"Are you alright, miss?" he asked softly, stepping closer. "I'm sorry if this troublemaker scared you. He's harmless, I swear..." His voice trailed off as he looked from his dog to meet your eyes. "You look... familiar. Have we met before?"
You nodded immediately, a beaming smile lighting up your face.
"It's you, isn't it? The one I've been searching for," he murmured, gently taking your hands in his. "What's your name?"
But when you opened your mouth to speak, no sound came out. That's when it hit you—you had given your voice to Ursula in exchange for legs, and now had only three days for Jongho to kiss you with true love's kiss, or else you'd belong to the sea witch for an eternity.
"What's wrong?" he asked, concerned. You pointed to your throat, shaking your head. "You can't speak? Oh..." His expression fell. "Then you can't be the girl I thought..."
Frustrated, you frantically waved your hands, trying to show him that you were the one. In your desperate movements, you lost your balance and stumbled forward—right into his strong arms.
"Woah, careful!" he said, holding you close to steady you.
For a moment, the world seemed to freeze as the two of you stood still, his arms wrapped securely around your waist while your hands clung to his shoulders. He gazed into your eyes, his expression softening. "You've been through something, haven't you? Don't worry—I'll help you."
Despite finding your quirks a bit odd, Jongho couldn't help but be charmed by your playful nature. On top of that, you were easily one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen. He had noticed it when he first met you, but after the maids had cleaned you up and dressed you like a princess, he could barely tear his eyes away. For a moment, he even forgot about the girl he had been searching for, now looking forward to spending the next day showing you around town.
Time flew by, and your second day on land seemed to pass in the blink of an eye. You wandered through the streets together, hands intertwined, sharing meals, dancing, and laughing. Each moment felt magical, filled with heart-fluttering closeness that made it feel like the two of you were already a couple. It was the best day of your life, a world apart from anything you'd ever known. It would've been perfect—if only he would just kiss you.
But there was still time, and you held on to hope. That evening, he took you on a romantic boat ride, and it felt like the moment was finally about to happen. He leaned in a few times, but each time, he hesitated, as if reminding himself you weren’t the one he thought he was looking for. Your heart sank with every pause. Still, after learning your name and feeling a deeper connection, he came so close...
Close enough for Ursula to interfere.
That night, he stood outside, looking melancholy as he hummed the same song that had haunted him since he was rescued. "Jongho, if I may," Grimsby said gently, approaching him. "Sometimes, the best match isn't a dream girl, but someone of flesh and blood—someone warm, caring, and right before your eyes," he suggested, gesturing toward your room, where you were absentmindedly brushing your hair with a fork once again.
Jongho chuckled softly, shaking his head at your antics. Perhaps Grimsby was right. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if you weren't the girl he had been searching for... after all, you made him happy. But before he could think further, a woman named Vanessa appeared, casting him under a spell that blinded him to everything—especially you.
Wiping away your tears, you knew you had to find a way to get to him. Your heart was shattered when you heard he was marrying another woman, but deep down, you should have known something was off. Of course, it was the sea witch and her wicked schemes.
Thankfully, Max, the loyal dog, seemed just as frustrated with Vanessa as you were. He aggressively tugged at her dress, refusing to leave her alone. In the chaos, her seashell necklace—the one that held your voice—fell to the ground and shattered. At last, the spell was broken, and you could speak again. The moment Jongho heard your voice, recognition filled his eyes. "You're the one. It was you... all along."
You nodded, your voice trembling with emotion. "Yes, Jongho. I've been trying to tell you."
"No! Stay away from her!" Vanessa screamed, but the prince ignored her, pulling you close and leaning in to kiss you. Before he could, you gasped, falling to the ground as your legs transformed back into a tail. Ursula's wicked laughter echoed as she returned to her true form, slithering towards you and grabbing hold. "So long, lover boy," she hissed.
His heart nearly stopped as he watched the witch drag you into the depths of the sea. But he wasn't about to lose you again. This time, he would fight with everything he had to save you.
And he did. The battle was fierce and exhausting, but he remained determined. Jongho cleverly commandeered a ship and steered it straight into Ursula, risking everything to put an end to her reign of terror.
Even in his exhaustion, he didn't rest until he found you. This time, you had legs—real, permanent ones—granted by your father after seeing the love you shared. And when he finally reached you, he pulled you close, refusing to let go. "I'm sorry I made you wait so long, but I'm yours now if you'll have me."
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I'm aware the format for each story is kinda inconsistent HAHA but that's because this has been in the works for a while now, and the time taken to finish these one by one was long enough for me to develop a new style for nearly every story when I get to them.
Not sure if this was any good. While proofreading, I realised there's a chance this might not make much sense for readers who have not watched these movies. But y'all, let me know your thoughts! <3
General ATEEZ Tag list:
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@evidive @weedforthoughtz @minkiflwr @cheolliehugs @ho3-for-yunho |
@the-kpop-simp @itstheghostofmypast @vantediary @green-agent @skzline |
@sharksandminhos @writingwieny @heyitsmetonid @tinyteezer @hollxe1 |
@pandabur666 @vampzity @tournesol155 @lilactangerine @oddracha |
@haven-cove @idfkeddieishot @vic0921 @vnessalau @apriecotte |
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@bunny4yungi
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All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.
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berzahoes · 1 year ago
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moments | tom blyth
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summary: moments with tom and you <3 oh, and keanu reeves is also there! (reeves!reader)
an: nepo baby reader my beloved 🫶🏼
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ON SET OF BILLY THE KID
since your dad had a few weeks off, he decided to visit you and tom on the set of billy the kid, which was filming in canada. tom was nervous since this would be the first time your dad would see him act in person. you understood why since your dad was a big name in hollywood (and also named the nicest guy).
“he just texted, he’s here.” you told tom, who was in already in his billy the kid attire. you were hanging out in his trailer until he was called to set.
“is this really happening?” tom sighed. “keanu reeves is going to see me act . . . holy shit.”
“just pretend he’s not there or just relax. he loves you and he loves everything you’ve been in.” you stood up from the chair and walked over to him.
“apart from being a big actor, he’s your dad. what if he sees that i’m not good enough to be with you?”
“if he ever says anything like that, run. that’s not the real keanu reeves,” you replied and placed a kiss on his lips. “i’ll be right back, I’m going to go find him.”
“i have to be on set in two minutes. i’ll meet you guys over there.” tom said as you exited his trailer in search of your dad.
eventually, you found him talking to the stunt coordinator about, one of his favorite subjects, motorcycles.
“sorry to interrupt,” you apologized for cutting into their conversation.
“no worries, i better get going. it was really nice talking to you. thank you.” the stunt coordinator said as he walked away.
“tom said he’s going to meet us on set. they’re about to start filming.” you and your dad walked to where tom had told you to go.
“this is really nice. did you see that horse over there? beautiful horse. remember when you didn’t want to ride the horse on set of john wick?” keanu teased. you rolled your eyes playfully and kept walking to the set.
the scene tom would be filming was the opening scene of the whole show. your dad quickly made friends with the producers and director and sat by them when filming began. you watch your boyfriend get into character and deliver his lines perfectly. you didn’t know what it was, but you loved seeing him as billy the kid.
“cut! that was great, tom! we got it!” the director shouted. immediately your dad started applauding as loud as he could.
then tom joined you and your dad. “tom, that was amazing. you did an incredible job.” your dad complimented him.
“thank you, sir. it means a lot that you’re here.” tom replied. he still couldn’t believe keanu freaking reeves watched him act. you two have been together for quite a while so he didn’t have to be so nervous around your dad. but he was and hearing keanu say such kind words to him calmed him down.
“dad was talking about the horse.” you said, pointing to the horse that tom called his.
before you knew it, both of your guys were walking in the direction of the horse.
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LUNCH WITH THE FAMILY
it was a nice day out in new york city. before you dad started filming for his new movie, he wanted to have lunch with you, tom and his partner, alexandra. he picked out where you would have lunch and texted you the address. it wasn’t that far from tom’s apartment so you decided to walk.
“what do you think your dad is going to say about this?” tom asked, referring to his recently bleached blonde hair.
“i think he’ll like it. i like it, but i do miss the brown hair.” you admitted. soon enough, you made it to the restaurant. your dad had gotten an outside table so you easily spotted him and alexandra waiting for you and tom.
tom had a hat on so your had hadn’t noticed the blonde hair until tom took it off. alexandra gasped as keanu chuckled. “you look great, man.” he brought tom in for a hug.
“you do look great, tom.” alexandra agreed and stood up from her chair to greet you and tom.
“hi, sweetheart,” keanu said as he hugged you and kissed your cheek. “when are you going blonde?”
“never. i think the only time i ever dyed my hair was when i had a mental breakdown during seventh grade and dyed my hair red.” you said as you sat next to tom.
“she had me up at two am helping her rinse because she didn’t want to get dye on her fingers.” keanu continued.
“you had red hair? i need to see that.” tom chuckled.
eventually the paparazzi found you and they kept some distance, but they still annoyed you. you four took the opportunity to mess with them and posed with peace signs or funny faces. it reminded you of the times when you did the exact same thing years ago with your dad. whenever he took you out to eat, the paparazzi would arrive seconds later taking pictures of you two. keanu suggested making faces at the camera so you did just that. now, you were doing the same thing but with your boyfriend, dad and stepmom.
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KEANU REEVES, PROFESSIONAL THIRD WHEEL
“how’s the family?” stephen colbert asked. you dad was a guest and his show and he loved any chance he had to talk about you.
“family is doing really great, thanks for asking. i’ve spending a lot of time with my daughter. her and i are doing lots of activities like pottery, she loves pottery.” he explained.
“that’s great. and do you two always hang out when you’re not busy?” stephen asked.
“yeah, she sometimes has her friends over and i call her and ask if i could come over and then i take her friends and her to dinner or bowling.” he laughed as he remembered all the times he took your friends out so he could also spend time with you.
“i don’t know if you’re aware of this, but twitter has actually named you the professional third wheel because of these photos.” stephen showed keanu and the audience some paparazzi photos of you and tom walking hand in hand down the streets of new york and to the side was your dad with an ice cream cone in his hand.
“oh man, i mean it was going to happen,” keanu said. you and your dad actually had an agreement about what stuff he could share about when it came to being asked about you in interviews. “tom is a great guy, he’s the best.it looks like they’re annoyed with me, but I promise they’re not.” he laughed as another picture was shown of tom talking to him, but he was still holding your hand. whatever it was that tom and your dad were talking about, it seemed really interesting since they weren’t paying attention to you at all.
“oh no,” keanu hid his face in embarrassment. “she looks mad at me, i hope she wasn’t mad.”
“this is my favorite one yet.” stephen added as another picture came on screen.
the picture showed you on your phone walking while your dad and tom walked behind laughing hysterically at something that someone had said.
“are you sure i’m the third wheel?” keanu joked as the audience laughed.
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“is tom blyth single?”
the cast of the ballad of songbirds and snakes were doing the wired autocomplete interview and it was tom’s turn to answer questions.
“i am not. i have a beautiful, lovely wonderful girlfriend.” he answered with a smile.
“and his name is keanu reeves!” rachel added followed by josh laughing.
“the pictures don’t lie, tom!”
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dewdropdinosaur · 11 months ago
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Only For You
ALASTOR X READER Summary: You are beautiful there is no doubt about that. But Alastor would prefer that you kept that beauty only for him Warnings: NONE. Just sassy narrator as always(I will applaud anyone who figures out who the snarky narrator is of my stories) This was a request for the lovely @anon-of-the-void. Enjoy darling! REQUESTS ARE STILL OPEN. See pinned post for rules.
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In the heart of Hell, where the shadows danced to the tunes of torment, there resided a figure unlike any other – Alastor, the Radio Demon. He ruled over the airwaves of the infernal realm with his charismatic voice and sinister charm, a being of darkness wrapped in the allure of the old radio era. Having a penchant for old-fashioned charm and a twisted sense of humor, he found himself entangled in an unexpected romance with a fellow sinner….you.  There was a peculiar softness within Alastor, a hidden warmth that few dared to perceive save yourself. It was in the tender glances he shared with his beloved, the unspoken acts of service he provided and yes…even his certain shall we say—possessive nature. 
You were Alastor's almost in every way opposite. Which made it hard for many of the Hotel’s residents to understand how you even got together in the first place or even got along(That dear reader is a story for another time)
You exude confidence and have no qualms about your appearance. Proud of your demonic allure, you revel in showcasing curves and radiant skin. Yet, all of this sexual tension that is exuded was for none other than the Radio Demon himself, and for your own sense of amusement of course. Flaunting oneself for all of Hell only to be uninterested and leaving both men and women alike all hot and bothered was particularly entertaining one could speculate. 
Alastor, however, was not as open-hearted about such boldness from you. His possessive nature stirred within him, a jealousy that simmered beneath his charismatic facade. Oh how the screams of many who had dared look at his darling for a second too long made a horrific melody over his radio tower…You had long since tried to stop him for it was pretty much a futile effort at this point. Despite being the only one privy to what lied beneath your revealing clothing, the red demon still felt the swells of envy within him. He craved attention and that your beautiful soul only be turned in his direction and for him only. When you in the nude simply invited Alastor in the bathroom while showering for a chat. Poker was a common pastime while doing your makeup, to which he would often let you win, or listening to LPs while you both danced around half dressed. 
One fateful evening, as the shadows draped the corridors of Hell, Alastor and you found yourselves amidst a gathering of the Hotel residents and staff. Your laughter rang through the air, form draped in silken garments that accentuated every curve, every line of demonic beauty.  Wearing an outfit that highlighted everything, your fiery eyes sparkled with mischief. Alastor couldn't help but feel a mix of pride and possessiveness, his snarky smile masking the growing jealousy within him. He watched from afar, his ruby eyes ablaze with a mixture of desire and resentment. As the eyes of Hell lingered upon you(mainly Angel and Sir Pentious, the latter unable to help himself, poor gentleman), a surge of possessiveness consumed him. With a snarl disguised as a smirk, he approached your side, wrapping his coat around your shoulders; his voice dripping with honeyed venom.
“Here my dear, you must be cold.” Leaning down to whisper in your ear, he spoke so only she could hear “Darling, must you parade around like a succubus on display?" Alastor quipped, trying to hide his true feelings behind his charismatic persona.
You chuckled, a demonic laugh echoing through the chaotic streets. "Oh, Alastor, dear, why hide what I have? It's a crime to keep such beauty under wraps." Turning to face him, laughter dancing in your eyes. “Must you always be so possessive?” You teased with a voice so close to a melody that stirred the depths of his being.
Alastor's snarky smile faltered for a moment, replaced by a flicker of insecurity. "I just prefer to keep you all to myself, my dear. No need to share your radiance with the whole underworld."
However, not one to be controlled and quite liking to rile up your partner, you sauntered away from Alastor. With a mischievous glint, after taking off his coat and handing it back to him, you teasingly exposed more of your demonic allure. The other demons ogled in admiration(except Husk who knew better than to get between his so-called boss and his partner….also a story for another time), and Alastor's jealousy reached its peak.
Alastor's smile faltered, his grip reaching out towards your form and  tightening around your waist. "In a realm where darkness reigns supreme, one must guard what is precious," he replied, his words dripping with thinly-veiled jealousy. Little green lights flickered around the hotel as the shadows smirked and moaned, yet you stood there unafraid. 
Determined to claim your attention for himself, Alastor conjured a stylish black coat from thin air and draped it over your bare shoulders. "There, my love, let's keep a bit of your mystery, shall we?"
Laughing heartily and not bothered by the sudden cover-up, you relented. "If it makes you happy, Alastor, I'll indulge your possessiveness." Walking your fingers up Alastor’s chest to adjust and fix his bow tie, you flashed a soft and genuine smile up at your partner. 
"My dear Radio Demon," you whispered, breath warm against his ear, "there is no need for jealousy. My heart belongs to you and you alone."
With those words, Alastor's doubts faded into the abyss, replaced by the warmth of the embrace. In the depths of Hell, amidst the chaos and the shadows, love had found its way into the hearts of demons, a flickering flame in the darkness that refused to be extinguished.
“And besides my love, you know I never much cared for that kind of attention from anyone but you anyway.” 
As you and Alastor  continued your stroll through the Hotel while mingling with guests, Alastor clung to your side; content that he had, at least momentarily, subdued his jealousy. Little did he realize that love in Hell was as unpredictable as the flames that flickered throughout the underworld, and the dynamic between the snarky Radio Demon and his confident partner would continue to evolve in the fiery depths of their unconventional romance.
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chibifox2002 · 1 year ago
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YOU ENJOY THAT VICTORY PIZZA OP!
YOU EARNED IT!!!
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anonymouscheeses · 1 year ago
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Obvious shit I noticed part 3 (spoilers for welcome to heaven)
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Look at her! "Teehee"
Also she's nervous! Foreshadowing omg 🤯
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STICKERS! Two pride stickers and a cute donut. Gives me an idea to draw Chaggie at a donut shop while everything is burning down <3 (I'll probably do it but if any artist wants to as well go ahead!)
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*CHOKES ON COFFEE* I LOVE THEM. I'M SORRY I GET SO GIDDY WHEN THEY HAVE EVEN THE SMALLEST INTERACTION BUT UGHHH I NEED MORE, IT WILL NEVER BE ENOUGH 🙏🙏
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KISSY! MWA! *SCREAMS INTO THE VOID*
Vivzie give me more, moar now. MOAR
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DAMN. SHE CAN THROW- or maybe it just exaggerates the perspective in this frame but still- ZAMNNN
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Cherri x Sir Pentious fans RISE UP.
I wasn't ever really a fan of it myself but I always thought it was CUTE. Like 3 seconds before this part I was already begging for them to kiss 😭
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More foreshadowing!
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AAAAAA CREEPY BIRD THINGS!!!
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Oh wait- Sera's hot and Emily's already adorable
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If heaven don't look like what this is in the show, I DONT WANT IT! (THATS A JOKE PLEASE DON'T SMITE ME)
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JEALOUS GIRLFRIEND VAGGIE!! Can I just say how much I love Vaggie's face expressions? Not just here but like all the time. She's just made to be so exaggerated, out of all of them I thought it would be Charlie who would have the most dramatic faces but Vaggie wins it for me. I JUST GIGGLE SO HARD WHEN SHE LOOKS LIKE THIS BAHAHAH
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Okay yeah. It's very obvious now. Vaggie is definitely an ex-exterminator. They don't close in on Charlie here so it's made to subtly nudge the attention to Vaggie. HOW DID THEY IMMEDIATELY NOTICE IT WAS HER THO??
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Hot-
That's it.
SHARE THAT MOTHUSSY GIRL-
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YOU'RE TELLING ME SHE GREW OUT ALL OF THAT HAIR?!? YEAH ITS BEEN A LONG TIME SINCE THEN BUT STILL AJJSJD.
But overall the design is pretty meh. I always loved the idea of short hair Vaggie and even have seen art of it but it's just yknow, alright. Reminds me of Cassandra from Tangled: the series. IM LISTENING TO ONE OF THE SONGS RIGHT NOW HELPPP
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THIS SCENE HERE! WOOOOO! SO GLAD WE KNOW WHEN AND WHERE THEY FIRST MET!! Wish we got it extended tho. And also probably push it to next episode so it would have a better impact(atleast I think thats when they'll have the duet). BUT WHATEVER SOMETHING IS BETTER THAN NOTHING! or uh whatever
Vaggie must've been a bit terrified at first. The only sinner she ever sent mercy to was a child. Then to see someone who to her is an adult sinner who just looks really human, that must be crazy. BUT THEN IF SHE WAS TOLD THAT CHARLIE WAS ACTUALLY THE PRINCESS OF HELL? HOOOO, LOCK IN AND STEAL HER. THAT'S SOME WATTPAD SHIT. Also, I wonder how long Charlie thought of redeeming sinners. It would make sense to be after meeting Vaggie, since it could have been a wake up call to the fact not all sinners are bad people. Even though Vaggie isn't a sinner technically, Charlie didn't know that at the time. But maybe Charlie was always like this but just needed to meet someone who could start her dream with her. Long rant uhhh
Haha penis 🫵
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SCRAP WHATEVER I SAID IN THE FIRST PART. THEY PROBABLY DO FUCK- OR DONT?? I DONT KNOW- ANYWAY LESBIAN SEX (BOTTOM TEXT). WHY DO I CARE SO MUCH??? SOMEONE PULL THE TRIGGER.
Lute looks like a basic asf anime gorl. Adam doesn't ever take his helmet off, or maybe he just can't. OH HE'S DOING THE GAY SIGN 💅💅 Very appropriate for what he's saying
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Mentor, apprentice. I love that Husk is just trying to help Angel grow but isn't going to force him into it if he doesn't want to.
Im not a fan of huskerdust and think they'd be better friends as I can't imagine a relationship with them at all. But it's still nice and they are supportive of eachother so that's like- yknow. Basic rules. Or something like that. (HELP. I ruined it all at the last part)
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I- girl- WHY IS SHE GROWLING?? GRR GRR RR (INSERT TWILIGHT SAGA HERE)
VAGGIE'S FACE. SENDS ME. WHO GAVE HER THESE OVERDRAMATIC EXPRESSIONS, I APPLAUD YOU RGAGAGA
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Ooo... I didnt like this part at all... Instead of making the choice she just runs off. Then because the plot demands it, Adam says nothing. Kinda whish she atleast avoided the question, maybe in some way that would require actual thinking? For a character like Vaggie, she could choose either way and it feel like it's still her. If she chose to protect Charlie's dream, she would still be perfectly loyal to her but in the act of so would reveal a secret that could harm their relationship(which does happen at the end but that's because the plot wanted it like that). If she chose to side with Adam, she'd be hurting Charlie emotionally, sure, but it would keep a secret that could make Charlie see Vaggie less than who she is to her already(atleast what Vaggie might think would happen). Imo it should've been her deciding to protect Charlie, since it would mean she's devoted to her at all times.
ANOTHER THING! IF SHE COULDN'T MAKE THE CHOICE, THAT IS SOMETHING INTERESTING TO GO INTO. Maybe it could go deeper into how Vaggie doesn't know who she is without Charlie. So when she has a choice to make, like here, she can't do it without feeling the need to ask Charlie. BUT NOOO, YA HAD TO GO WITH THIS!! Wow. That was a long ass rant. Wtf 😭
Maybe I'm a dumbass. Maybe they'll talk about that next episode, but still, atleast touch on it a bit to not seem rushed?
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Angel looking out for his kids like a mom. We always did need the motherly figure, the one closest to that being Charlie but girl needs a mother in her life too(damn, wait, I did her so dirty).
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Huh, so why does it work here then? 🤨🤨 if it was said in the contract that Valentino can do whatever he wants only in the studio, then why is this the exception? 🤨🤨
Yes I'm stupid. Why do you ask? (No genuinely what's happening here)
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OH ITS THE IMAGE! I really like Sera so far, hope we get more of her soon or in season 2.
Now that we know the context of this, yeah, that's fucking insane. And badass. WOMEN.
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HMM. THATS STRANGE. DID YOU NOT FOR ONCE THINK THERE COULD BE A POSSIBILITY SHE MIGHT HAVE BEEN AN ANGEL? Okay I probably wouldn't either but I have an excuse, I'm an idiot. Some girl with a standing out outfit, with one eye, looks unusually human, right after/during the extermination... that's pretty solid ass proof. But I'm dumb so don't take anything i say seriously :D
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Imagine this. No- shit. Just-
JUST LOOK! THEY ARE SO CUTE! EVEN THOUGH CRAZY SHIT IS HAPPENING.
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*SWEATS*
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Vaggie is DESPERATE. PLEADING. That's obvious yeah, but don't mind me I had nothing to say for the last 3 images I just thought they were cool
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I mean. Slay I guess. 😍💅
Do all the exterminators look similar or is it just Lute and Vaggie? 🤨
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Even though Vaggie and Charlie may be going through this horrible thing with a hard punch in the gut, but Vaggie is always going to comfort her and I just think that's so adorable.
Also Adam looks like a chicken hah.
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Everyone fears to be like Lucifer. If they don't do bad things they believe are for the greater good and make sacrifices that put them higher than those in hell, they could themselves be fallen. It's really interesting but I don't know if it's going to be fleshed out enough with the amount of episodes left. Which also worries me about everything else that still hasn't be concluded. There's gonna be loose strings I just know it. Hopefully though they rather do that then rush everything out y'know?
I want the next episode to be mostly focused on Vaggie and Charlie's relationship and the healing of what happened. Not for the entire episode of course, it would feel drawn out if it did, but atleast address the problem for the first like I would say 10 minutes? Then the rest would focus on one or two loose threads while also having Vaggie and Charlie acting upon moving on. That's just my idea but yeah-
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helsensm · 1 year ago
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Your glowy white haired raiden is making me go CRAZY!!!! Wondering if you have any opinions on glowy tattoos for raiden perhaps?
xmas and new year time was a proper CHAOS, finally getting back to my inbox, hi everyone
Raiden when we are slapping every glowing feature on him:
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I love cool (especially glowing!) tats as much as the next person, but I think that would be overkill, lets leave that thing for Liu Kang ahaHJj
WITH THAT BEING SAID- 👀 I’m screaming over Raiden’s tattoo skins! He personally did not strike me as a tattoo guy, but I applaud his dedication, my man heard that everyone is getting inked for new skins and chose tHE SICKEST FUCKING BLACKWORK IN MK1??/ SIR?? 😳🖤 so if I must vote for glowing tattoos for Raiden, I’m voting for glowing negative spaces on this bad boy, light these little lightnings/scars baby!
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screenshot by noqtcrnal from pinterest
thank you sm for your ask and your patience :3 💕
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wynnyfryd · 1 year ago
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Trailer park Steve AU part 21
part 1 | part 20 | ao3
“Right?” Steve asks, scratching his head as he glances back at the door. 
“No, I meant you, dingus! What the fuck was that with you?” 
Steve feels his face go hot. “What? What do you mean?” 
She throws her hands in the air, stomping over so she can get in his face and say, “Don’t ‘what do you mean’ me. Your faces” —she lifts her hands like she’s about to applaud, palms hovering an inch apart— “were like thiiis close to just…”
She claps them together, and Steve feels the blood drain right back out of his face, dread pooling in his gut as she twists her palms this way and that, like two people tilting their heads to kiss deeper. Oh, god. Oh, god. Were they—? 
“Mwah,” Robin says helpfully, mashing her hands more tightly together. “Mwah mwah mwah mwah—”  
Steve grabs her by the wrist. “Dude. Stop.” 
She drops her hands and stares at him — one of those Detective Buckley looks, combing over every inch of his soul for missed clues — and then her mouth does some horribly self-satisfied thing that he hates. “If I didn’t know any better,” she draws, “I’d say someone has a crush.” 
I’d say someone has a crush someone has a crush someone has a crush someone has a
Steve’s gonna pass out. The words feel like bile in his brain, acidic and sharp; like puking right after chugging a glass of orange juice. It’s not like he’s— 
Look, he knows that he’s— but—
The bell dings. Thank fucking Christ. A big family group, three generations of people talking and laughing and fussing over a baby in a stroller and carrying leftovers from the Italian place down the strip. 
Steve sags in relief. 
Robin hisses in his ear, “We are so not done talking about this.”
He doesn’t want to talk about it.
About Eddie, about the word Robin lobbed at him like a lit bottle rocket, about any of it.
Just thinking about it is giving him a stomach ulcer and a migraine and maybe an aneurysm, too. 
He was hoping he made that obvious enough during the last hour of their shift that Robin would just drop it, but that girl has never dropped a single thing in her life. Worse than Nancy, the little bloodhound. Steve saw this documentary once about crocodiles; remembers how they can lock their jaws shut after clamping down on their prey with up to 4000 PSI of pressure. 
That’s enough pressure to cut a person’s arm off with a jet of water. 
Damn, nature’s cool.
“Steve!” 
You know who’s not cool? 
“Steve!” Robin hollers again over the song he’s currently blasting to drown her out on the drive home. “Steve, you can’t use ABBA against me like this!”
Steve ignores her protests, responds by shout-singing “DIGGING THE DANCING QUEEN, OOH OOOOOH” at her in his most nasal falsetto because he absolutely can and will use ABBA against her like this, and it works like a charm. He’s pretty sure this song has, like, hypnotic power over her or something, because every time without fail she gives the answering “ooh-oo-oo-ooh-ooh-oooooh” as if on auto-pilot.
“HEY!” she shouts when she realizes what she’s doing. “No sir!” She reaches over and mashes the volume button. 
Silence falls over the car. Sucks the air out of Steve’s lungs in the sudden void; his ears adjust slowly, picking up the quiet thrum of the engine, the whispered whoosh of the wind outside. Is he ever going to get used to being kind-of-sort-of-deaf? This shit sucks.
“...Okay, look,” Robin says tentatively. She’s staring at the side of his head, and he keeps his eyes on the road; tightens his grip on the wheel. “We don’t have to talk about you, okay?”
“There’s nothing to talk about with me.”
“Right!” she rushes to agree. Playing along like they don’t both know that’s bullshit. “Totally.”
Steve risks a glance at her. Her expression is earnest, some full-paragraph silent communication like: whatever bathroom-floor-confessional crisis you’re having, we can leave it alone for now. We can let it stay hidden in the dark corners for a little longer; I promise I’ll put my flashlight down. 
“Totally,” Steve echoes, nodding at her. 
“Okay. Cool. Cool…”
She lets out a long breath, cheeks puffing out as she sits on her hands. Oh, my god, just spit it out. “Can we please talk about him, though?”
part 22
tag list pt. 1 below the cut, comment if you want me to tag you tomorrow (heads up i'm not tagging any new under 21 or ageless blogs unless we’re mutuals or you dm me to verify your age. gonna purge this list when i get some free time)
@heartsong18 @hellion-child @hiimlevi @hotluncheddie @jackiemonroe5512 @jaytriesstuff @littlebluejane @lololol-1234 @marklee-blackmore @melonmochi @messrs-weasley @mrsjellymunson @mugloversonly @nburkhardt @nerdyglassescheeseychick @noodle-shenaniganery @notsopersonalcharlie @novelnovella @nuggies4life @pending-dope-username @perseus-notjackson @ppunkpuppyy @questionablequeeries @remosdeerica @runninriot @sadcanadianwinter @shamelesspatrolshepherdcowboy @silver-snaffles @singmeyoursimpsong @slowandsteddie @slutforcoffein @solalasoforth @spookednsaucy @steddieas-shegoes @steddie-island @stevesbipanic @steves-strapcollection @taleah-bonnick @teatimeeverybody @th30ra3k3n @thealwithnoname @thespaceantwhowrites @thestarslittleking @thesuninyaface @trensu @violetsteve @wormdebut @yourmom-isgay @zoeweee @zombiecreatures
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miss-oranje-disco-dancer · 11 months ago
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i've been waiting for you
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part three of daddy all along: part 1 here, part 2 here
pairing: older (dad's best friend)! leon x younger! reader
cw: brief mention of past suicidal ideations, oral sex, semi-public sexual activities, love
summary: the aftermath of daddy all along pt 2 (you had me at 'hello'). mild angst, mild smut, mild fluff. their trials and tribulations still have a happy ending
a/n: this is a commission for the lovely @porcelainseashore <3 !!
wc: 8k
title is a reference to the song of the same title by ABBA. (this story is best experienced alongside the song).
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The kiss you shared was laced with the kind of love that was powerful enough to stop time. Until your father interrupted the sacred moment with a far-from-subtle “ahem”.
You turned to see him in the hallway, standing behind you. He’d just witnessed the spectacle. You weren’t sure whether to be angry that he interrupted you or that he wasn’t applauding your love, which had gone through trials and tribulations and come out stronger on the other side.
“I suppose I missed a lot while I was in rehab,” he said.
You looked at Leon, hoping he’d have an answer, but his mind was still hazy from the kiss.
“I think I deserve a briefing on this,” your dad said, nodding towards the living room, an order to follow him.
You silently did as he asked, but Leon lingered in the doorway, uncertain despite the simple directions.
“Leon?” your father called him back to reality.
“Yes, sir,” Leon said, still drunk on the kiss.
“We’ve been friends for decades, don’t call me ‘sir’.
Leon had to resist the urge to say “yes, sir” again. He nodded and stepped into the house, closing the door behind him. He followed you both into the living room and sat on the couch with you, placing a noticeable distance between his body and yours, in an effort to keep things appropriate in front of your father. Though it only served to make things more awkward.
“So?” your dad said, looking back and forth between the two of you, probing you both for answers.
“You saw what happened a minute ago. What more is there to say?” you said because you didn’t know how to tell the story. At least, not in a way that would be acceptable to him.
“I think there’s a lot more to say,” he said. “What happened while I was away? Did you two get together?”
You tried to be as diplomatic as possible, which meant being vague. “We got to spend a lot of time together while you were gone, and we realized that we have feelings for each other. Well, I already knew I liked Leon, but I didn’t know he liked me back.” You conveniently left out the part about having sex on your birthday.
Your father turned to Leon, looking for his explanation. It was about as revealing as yours. “I know it might seem a little weird, but I love your daughter, and I care a lot about her. I always have.”
Leon looked at you affectionately. He even dared to reach across the couch and grab your hand as proof of his love.
“Are you mad?” you asked your dad.
“No, I’m not mad. Like Leon said, it’s just weird for me… to see you two like this.” He turned to Leon, and said, “I know you’re a good man, Leon. I’ve always known that, but I know your history with women, and I need to know that you’re not going to use my daughter… as a hook up. I don’t want her heart to get broken.”
It pained you to hear your dad mention Leon’s past relationships, or lack thereof. Was it worse to think of him as a man with a history of one-night stands, or a man who’s truly loved other women before you?
Your dad played it as cool as possible, holding in all the things he wanted to say, until you decided to head to bed. You hoped Leon would come with you, but your dad asked him to stay downstairs under the guise of hanging out together for the first time since he’d been home.
Still, you sat at the base of the stairs to listen in on their conversation. You always did. Any information you had about Leon or your father – their lives outside of being your caretakers – was gathered through this method.
“I’m sorry, but you can’t. You’re gonna break her heart, and I can’t let you do that.”
“You know I’d never let her get hurt.”
“She’s gone through so much lately… with the accident, me going to rehab, and now, coming home. It’s not fair to shake up her life even more.”
“Are you hearing yourself right now? You’re asking me not to shake up her life because she’s dealing with the problems you’ve caused?”
There was a pause, and you swore you could see the looks on their faces. Your father’s horror, Leon’s regret.
“I’m sorry… I didn’t mean it like that,” Leon backtracked.
“Go,” your father said, stern, but not aggressive. “I’ll tell her you had to leave and you didn’t wanna wake her.”
You heard Leon’s heavy footsteps walking towards the door and you bolted up the stairs, slipping in your socks and falling face-first on your way.
Leon saw it happen, but didn’t move. He used to pick you up when you fell. His arms were strong, but the awkwardness weighed them down, and he couldn’t reach out to catch you. Your father heard the thunk-thunk-thunk sound and ran over.
You turned to them, realizing the option for flight was gone. You had to fight — for Leon, for you and Leon.
“You were just gonna lie to me? Both of you were gonna lie to me?” You were used to your father lying. As angry as you were, you weren’t surprised by his behavior. Leon’s near-instant agreement to go along with his lies was what made your heart sink. How many times had he done this? Was your whole life a series of your father’s lies and Leon’s willingness to cover them up?
“Listen, sweetheart,” your dad said, “I was just trying to keep you safe.”
“You only care about me now that you’re home, and all you wanna do is control me again,” you said. Holding back tears, you turned to Leon. “And you, you wouldn’t even fight for us? After you came here to confess your love for me? Is it all just bullshit to you?”
“No, I care about you,” he said, “just like your dad does.”
“No, that’s bullshit. Neither of you care about me,” you said, stomping up the stairs and shutting yourself in your bedroom. Nothing good would come out of arguing further. It was 2 vs 1, an unfair fight, you’d better quit before you embarrass yourself.
It was ironic, you realized, how — mere hours ago — you would’ve given anything to have your two favorite people here with you. Now, you got what you wanted — what you thought you wanted — and you would give it all away in an instant. Maybe you were right, back at the dinner table, when the realization came to you that you couldn’t have it all. You’d have to choose between leaving Leon and disappointing your dad.
It was wholly frustrating that you did have them both for most of your life – there didn’t have to be a choice, there was always dad and Leon. Leon was right, sleeping together was a big deal, and maybe you should’ve heeded his warnings.
Questions flooded your mind, all unanswerable. Is this what regret feels like? If you could turn back time would you change it?
Who can you cry to when the people you love most are the ones who hurt you?
When you snuck downstairs later that night to grab a glass of water, Leon was gone. He’d left hours ago. You weren’t sure who to be more angry with – dad or Leon. Their previous togetherness multiplied the amount of love you received as a child, and now it multiplied the loss.
You refused to speak to your dad for days. You didn’t have to refuse to speak to Leon, as he didn’t try to reach out. You learned how to draw and ripped up the pages, you started journaling and ripped out the pages. You called a friend and tried to avoid explaining what was going on. But it was hard to think about anything else. Your life was filled with Leon, Leon, Leon. Like always. Sure, you’d lived with him for months during your father’s rehab, but you had a life before him – no, not before him, but before his constant presence. But where was it?
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Leon left. Clearly you weren’t in the mood to see him, and your dad had explicitly told him to leave. What’s that saying? “If you love something, let it go”? Leon tried that with Ada many years ago. He let her go, and she came back, and then she left again, sticking them in a perpetual cycle of what he perceived to be intimacy and completely ignoring the others’ existence. They’d been seeing each other periodically for decades. Leon’s love for her faded a little bit every time she left the morning after. He let her go and she let him go. If she wasn’t willing to fight for him, then he wouldn’t fight for her. But, you were different. The way Leon loved you made him consider the possibility that whatever he felt for Ada wasn’t love. More likely it was a deadly combination of admiration, attraction, and misplaced trust. Plus, the inextricable link that forms between people who’ve saved each other’s lives.
Usually, Leon didn’t give himself time to make mistakes in his relationships – he tended to leave the morning after, never wanting to be a nuisance. If a woman ever came home with him, he’d make her coffee in the morning and lend her a clean towel so she could shower. He didn’t think he had much else to offer.
He knew how you took your coffee and how you liked your eggs. He knew how to set the thermostat to your preferred temperature. There was always more in his heart for you.
A woman thought he was being considerate when she noticed that he had tampons under the sink, but really they were for you, not her. Another thought he was seeing someone else when you left your toothbrush at his apartment. How could he explain to her that you were the most important woman he knew, but no, he wasn’t seeing you. That was well over a year ago. It should’ve been easier after “I’m in love with you.” Who is she? She’s my girlfriend. A one-word explanation.
He tried to devise a plan to win you back, like the male love interest in a cheesy rom-com. He seriously considered the prospect of showing up at your house with a boombox playing Peter Gabriel like Lloyd from Say Anything. It would probably give you second-hand embarrassment, he decided. If only he knew, you’d still take him back.
Leon knew you well enough to know your idiosyncrasies. You stayed up to watch American Idol on Monday nights. You’d be in the living room if he came over around 9. He could park around the corner and sneak up to your window. Your dad wouldn’t be watching unless he had a complete change of heart. (He’d refused to watch American Idol since the contestant he liked didn’t win in Season 2 – he was convinced from then on the competition was rigged.)
Leon got home from work, quickly changed, and headed over to your house on his motorcycle, hoping he could convince you to go for a ride with him. Something you’d never done before. Because he hadn’t allowed you to. Maybe he should have worried about the possibility that he was letting his protectiveness over you slip to accommodate his need to please you. As much as you used to beg him to do things he considered too dangerous, he’d never budge. Watching you throw a fit always pained him, but being a father figure meant protecting always superseded placating. 
Had you broken down his ability to refuse you? Or was he a selfish man looking for love in a girl he should be hesitant to pursue?
Monday night came and he knocked on your window in the special pattern the two of you had established many years ago when you were afraid of letting a “bad guy” into your room by accident as a child. Knock – pause – knock, knock – pause – knock.
You immediately knew it was him. He could see in your face that you were ready to run out the door to him, so he held his finger to his lips to remind you to be quiet. Thanks to the summer weather, you could step outside without having to make a ruckus by putting on your coat.
Your teenage years weren’t far behind you, and with a former cop for a father, you knew how to sneak out. Under the porch-light, you were barely visible, but Leon could hear your smile when you spoke.
“You came back,” you said, wrapping your arms around his neck.
“I told you I’d never leave you.”
“Are you gonna come in?”
“I don’t think your father would like that very much.”
“Then why are you here?”
“Because I love you. And I want you to come out with me, just for a little bit.”
You learned your persuasion from Leon. You’d watched him talk his way in and out of endless situations, from speeding tickets to free food. And those people were strangers. He already had you wrapped around his finger.
“Okay,” you said, “but I should leave a note, so my dad doesn’t think I went missing.”
“Good girl,” Leon said, and when you looked in his eyes you could tell he was trying to get you worked up. And he was succeeding.
“Wait- where are we going?” you asked.
“I was going to let you choose.”
“Can we go to the hill? I’ll get a blanket for us to sit on.”
Leon was ready to blow his salary on you, and all you wanted was to lie down in the grass. His worries about your safety riding on the back of his bike were no longer a problem, since the hill was within walking distance.
“That sounds great to me.”
You returned to him moments later with your hair tied up, cherry-flavored chapstick on, and a picnic blanket under your arm. Leon carried the blanket with one arm, and held out his other, offering you his hand.
Somehow – after sex, after a love confession, after knowing Leon for your entire life up to that very moment – holding his hand made your heart flutter. You hoped your hands weren’t too sweaty. His were warm and calloused with a scar on one palm. You discovered this long ago. His hands were the ones to bandage you when you fell off your bike, the ones that wiped your tears after a nightmare, the ones that rubbed your back when he hugged you. You knew them well.
You walked to the hill where you used to go sledding as a child. It was tucked into a corner behind a thin curtain of trees, a little neighborhood secret. Leon put down the picnic blanket in a secluded spot where the street lamps couldn’t outshine the stars. You laid on your back, unsure of where to put your hands. They remained awkwardly on your stomach. You could feel Leon’s eyes on you. You turned to him and he snaked his arm around your shoulders and pulled you closer.
“What’s up with you?” he asked.
“Nothing. Why?”
“No, not nothing. You’re nervous.”
“Is it really that obvious?”
“Yes. Are you worried about your dad finding out? I’ll make sure you don’t get into any trouble with him. You can blame it all on me.”
“No, I’m not worried about him.”
“Then what’s got you all anxious?”
“This is gonna sound so stupid.”
“It might, but that almost makes me wanna hear it more.”
“You’re so smooth, like, you’re giving me butterflies and I don’t know how you do it. I feel so awkward and I wish I was better at this.”
He laughed, really laughed.
“See? I told you it was stupid. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“No, no, baby.” He put his hand on your arm before you could turn from him. “I was laughing because I am the exact opposite of ‘smooth’. Ask anyone I know and they’ll tell you that I’m awful at flirting.”
“But you’re so good at it right now.”
“This isn’t flirting. I’m just having a good time with you. I’m not trying to get you in bed or whatever. I love you and I wanna spend time with you.”
Leon didn’t know that he felt that way until the words left his mouth. It didn’t miss him that you didn’t say “I love you” in return. He was old enough to accept the fact that sometimes people don’t say it back, or at least, to cover up whatever anxiety he felt when it happened.
“I love you” wasn't sufficient to describe how you felt in that moment. You grasped for words for as long as you could bear the silence. You ended up concluding that in this case, actions could substitute for words. So, you kissed him, letting your lips guide you unrestrained so that soon you were engrossed in a full-blown make-out session, hands in each other’s hair, grasping at each other’s shirts. Every time you pulled away to catch your breath, you thought you’d stop to talk – but you found yourself giving into the desire to kiss him endlessly. At least, until your breath was heaving. All you’d done was kiss.
“I want you,” you said, reaching down past Leon’s hips to find him hard.
“We shouldn’t,” he said, though you could see the intrigue in his upturned lips.
“No one’s around.”
“I’ve taken enough risks for one night. Your dad is going to murder me if he finds out I helped sneak you out of the house, and I think it’d be a lot worse if he found out from the one free phone call you’re allowed when the cops take you in.”
“What if we didn’t have sex? What if we just did a little bit more than kissing?”
“What does ‘more’ look like to you?”
“I wanna touch you. We won’t even have to take our clothes off.”
He sighed, and a bashful grin appeared on his face. He didn’t agree with words, believing he could do much better with his fingertips on your skin. Leon kissed you from your lips to your neck to your collarbone, even daring to place one on one of your breasts. It was risky to pull your top down to do it, but Leon wanted to mark you someplace only he could see it.
As soon as his hand reached the threshold between panties and skin, you unzipped his pants and started touching him. You locked eyes and stayed forehead-to-forehead until he kissed you forcefully, capturing your moans before they left your mouth.
You were left in a daze after your orgasm while Leon was hit with a moment of clarity that was much different this time than the last. He understood the risks clearly, and yet, had no second thoughts. There was nowhere he’d rather be than holding you under the stars.
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When you arrived home from your date with Leon, you found your father in the kitchen.
He knew.
“We need to talk.”
“About what?”
“Where were you tonight?”
“With a friend.”
“Is your friend’s name “Leon”?”
“Don’t get mad. Please, dad.”
“Why didn’t you ask me before you went out?”
“Because I thought you’d say no.”
“At least you’re honest.” He picked up a can from the table and took a sip of it, and for a second, you thought it was beer, you thought you could turn the tables. You noticed it was a can of soda about a second before you opened your mouth to yell at him.
“I can’t stop you from sleeping with him, but you’re not doing it while you live under my roof.”
“Why are you so obsessed with the idea of us having sex?! It’s not the only thing we do.”
“Sure. You hang out. That doesn’t mean it’s love, nor does it mean that it’ll last.”
“You don’t know anything about love.”
“Maybe so. But Leon is a man in his forties who’s never had a serious relationship. And there’s a reason for that.”
“Maybe he hadn’t found the right person.”
“All I’m saying is that I can’t remember the last time I saw him go on a second date with a woman, let alone have a long-term relationship.”
“And? You ended up being a single father because you fucked up so bad that mom left you!” And if Freud was right, then that’s why I have daddy issues.
“I will not have you talk to me that way.”
“What are you gonna do about it?”
“I’ll ask you to go upstairs and think about your words or you can pack your bags and go.”
The second option was hyperbole. He would never kick you out. But you took it as truth and grabbed your purse. You called Leon from the driveway.
Your father’s disapproval became the least of your worries once you began staying with Leon. What was eating at you was the comment your father made about Leon’s love life. Over dinner one night, you confronted him.
“You said you’ve been in love before, right?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Do you still love her?”
“No.” He was sure of it. He liked Ada, liked having sex with her, but he’d fallen out of love with her a long time ago. That ship had sailed.
“How did it end?”
“What?”
“The relationship with whoever you were in love with.”
“There wasn’t really a relationship. There was nothing to end.”
You hummed in contemplation.
“Why are you so interested in this all of a sudden?”
“I don’t want you to fall out of love with me.”
“I don’t plan to, and that situation was entirely different than what we have. This, what’s between us, is much stronger.”
He looked you in the eyes, and said much softer, “I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you.”
“Why should I believe you?”
“Because I can’t fall out of love with you. I tried to, multiple times. It didn’t work and that’s why I’m here.”
“What do you mean you ‘tried to fall out of love’ with me?”
“I slept with other people… as you know,” he said, nearly wincing at the awful memory of you catching him with another woman in your living room. “And, the night I came to your house, I had just left a date.”
“So, you slept with someone before you came over and-”
“No, I went out to dinner, and she offered me… the opportunity to go back to her place, but I said no.”
“Was she ugly? Unfuckable by your standards?”
“No, wait- what?” He shook his head and tried to explain it the best he could. “I was thinking about that night in the hotel room when you said that thing about Celine and Jesse and I actually brought it up to the girl.”
“You told her about that night?”
“No, I just mentioned how I liked the movie.”
“And?”
“And she said she didn’t like it.”
“And that’s the reason you decided I was a better choice? Because she didn’t like your favorite 90s romance movie?”
“No, well, sort of, but no… I just started thinking about how you love that movie and how she’s nothing like you, and how I love you. And then I saw your picture in my wallet and… I just knew what I had to do.”
For a moment, you wondered if he was just trying to get in your pants. If he was, it was working. You gave in, telling yourself that his intentions shouldn’t matter because he wasn’t manipulating you, you were hoping he’d ask you to sleep with him anyway. You weren’t going to let your dad’s assumptions get to your head.
Leon scavenged the house but couldn’t find any condoms. “I think I’m all out,” he said, sounding very apologetic. “The drug store’s still open, though, so just gimme like 15 minutes, and I’ll be back.”
You beckoned him closer. “What if we just didn’t use one?” you asked, putting on your cutest face.
“Uh-uh,” he said, “and before you try to talk me into it, I’m serious.”
“But Leon…”
“No, that’s my final answer. I can go to the store or we can do this another time.”
“Or you could just pull out.”
“You went to health class, right?”
You nodded.
“Then, you know that the pull-out method isn’t 100% effective. Or did you convince me to pick you up the day they taught that?”
You actually had convinced him to pick you up that day, but you were still aware of the pregnancy risk if you didn’t use protection.
“What if I wanted to get pregnant?”
“You’re joking, right? This is a hypothetical.”
“Sort of, but you’re getting older – no offense – and if we wanna have kids, then maybe we should start before your sperm count decreases.”
“My sperm count is fine, and no, we are not ready for a baby.”
“You might not be.”
“Sorry, I meant you are not ready for a baby. I could take care of a child, but you’re 21.” Suddenly, your age-gap seemed to widen in Leon’s mind. He felt like he’d already raised a kid and you weren’t close to being ready to have one.
“Okay, fine,” you said. “But you wanna have kids someday, right…?” It was wishful thinking, and though you had no reason to believe Leon had the same idea in mind, you believed he did. In all your daydreams you were parents.
He was completely taken aback. “Uh…” The last time he’d been asked if he wanted to have kids it was a theoretical question, from Claire, decades ago. Back when they thought it might still be a possibility in this lifetime. “I don’t know…” He decided not to say any more, fearing he’d disappoint you.
“But, I do, and I think I’d be a good mom.” After the words left your mouth, it hit you, the horrible realization. No, you might not be a good mother, and in fact, if you had to put money on it, you wouldn’t bet on your success. If you were anything like your parents, you’d be terrible at it. It must’ve shown on your face because Leon’s expression shifted from stern to sympathetic.
“Hey,” he said, placing a hand on your shoulder, “I think you could be a great mom one day, but let’s not talk about it tonight.”
You looked up at him with tears in your eyes and wiped them away with the back of your hand before they could fall. “Yeah,” you said, forcing a smile. You tried to awkwardly laugh your way out of the discussion and Leon must’ve felt bad enough for you not to call you out.
Sex was no longer on the table – that conversation had gone stale. The idea was wholly unpalatable that night, for both of you.
“Sorry,” you said, stopping yourself before you could start your own pity party.
“Nothing to be sorry about,” he said. If you were apologizing for being obstinate and trying to manipulate your way into unprotected sex, he’d take the apology, but he knew what you meant: I’m sorry for killing your boner and crushing my own dreams. It wasn’t your fault for hoping Leon could be more than the man he was.
You fell asleep quickly, as one does after crying. Leon’s arms around you eased your pain. Some things never changed.
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When you were younger, like many little girls, you liked to play with baby dolls – you bottle-fed them, pushed them in a stroller, rocked them to sleep, but it was all pretend. You believed motherhood would be easy back then, and it wasn’t like Leon was going to crush a little girl’s dreams by telling her the harsh realities of being a parent.
When you were very little – little enough that this memory is one only Leon bore the burden of keeping – Leon mentioned something about you pretending to be a mommy, to which you remarked, “I don’t know how to play mommy.”
Sure, kids talk nonsense, but regardless of your intent, you didn’t have a mother figure, and you never would. Leon didn’t have the same delusional optimism that your father had in the beginning. He was convinced your mom would come back to him. Leon knew better than to get his hopes up, not that he had much at stake.
Ironically, the father you grew up with, the morbid, ever-pessimistic father, was a direct result of his prior optimism. He decided being a cynic would protect him from being disappointed. He never perfected the art of acting happy in front of the kid quite like Leon did. Then again, Leon knew depression, even suicidality, but he’d never been heartbroken to the extent that your dad had because he’d never given himself over to someone entirely. After watching your dad fall headfirst into alcoholism, Leon was being reasonable by keeping himself guarded. Or so he thought at the time. Now, he began to consider the fact that he may not have been as brave as he’d always thought he was. He was a hero, risking his life to eradicate the threats of bioterrorism worldwide. But, he didn’t choose that life, he fell into his position as an agent due to his own cowardice – at least, that’s how he felt when he couldn’t pull the trigger when he held his own gun to his temple.
In retrospect, he was glad he hadn’t gone through with his plan to off himself. Classify it how you want – cowardice for backing down or bravery for deciding to stay alive – Leon was still alive decades later. And before him stood another one of life’s toughest decisions, though the answer was much clearer this time. Would he let himself fall in love with you, knowing you could break his heart? Yes, though, he didn’t have much say in the matter by the time he realized what was happening. He didn’t choose to set his soul on the table in front of a starving woman. You pulled it out of him with every kiss, every laugh, every steady breath you took while you lay next to him in bed.
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When Leon walked in the door, you were there to greet him like a pet who’d been left alone for hours, desperate for affection. Unlike a puppy, you didn’t pounce on him immediately. With his arms behind his back, he said, “I got you a present — pick a hand.”
As skeptical as you were, your intrigue was stronger. You tapped his right arm and he held out a box of condoms. “Surprise,” he said.
“I think this ‘present’ might be for you,” you said.
“You caught me,” he said, already leaning in for the kiss that would lead to the night’s escapades.
Leon planned to take you to the bedroom like a gentleman would, but you dragged him over to the couch, shoved him into a seated position, and stripped in front of him. He had to resist the urge to speak, knowing he’d say something stupid since the image of you in your current state had taken over his mind entirely, turning everything else to mush. The only organ still at work was the one in his pants, and that one was working overtime.
You straddled his lap once you were down to your underwear – a matching lace set. Since you and Leon had become official, you made sure you were always prepared. Not that he expected you to dress up for him. Maybe it was the nagging voice in the back of your mind that constantly reminded you that he’d been with other women. You had others to compete with for the top spot in his mind. He didn’t. He was your best and your only.
You had no idea how many women Leon had been with – romantically or sexually, and you were afraid to ask, worried that the amount would be high enough that he wouldn’t recall the exact number. He told you that you were the best he’d ever had, but people lie. All the time.
You tore off Leon’s dress shirt, haphazardly popping one of the buttons off. “I liked this shirt,” Leon mumbled, momentarily disappointed.
When you sank to your knees, all was forgiven. There was a tiny voice in the back of his head that told him this was wrong. He should be taking care of you, right? You’re his baby girl, you can’t do this – not that he’s naive enough to believe that you’re the innocent little girl you used to be, he knew for a fact that you’d left that girl in the past for a woman who was looking at him bright-eyed, kneeling at his feet – but you could get hurt doing this, you could choke if you overexerted yourself.
You were teary-eyed and gagging before he could think of a way to protect your poor throat. An overachiever. Part of Leon’s mind was enraptured by the sight and begging him to let you continue. If you were any other girl, maybe he would give over all control to you. But the reasonable man he became the day he met you, a baby wrapped in a pink blanket, remained stronger than the sex-crazed idiot he was before.
He pulled you off of him gently. Maybe it was just an illusion from your watery eyes, but you looked hurt.
“What did I do wrong?”
“Nothing,” he said, soft and sweet, “but you’re gonna hurt yourself if you keep doing it like that.”
“I want to make you feel good.”
“You are.”
“But I wanna do more, I wanna please you.”
“You wanna please me, huh?” You could see the glint of mischief in his eyes, but you hadn’t figured out its source yet.
“Yes, please, I’ll do whatever you want.”
“Whatever I want?” He pretended to be astonished by your offer. You were being hyperbolic, he assumed – he hoped. “Okay,” he said, standing up, “c’mon.” He held out his hand for you to take.
You grabbed his hand without hesitation, and he led you to the bedroom. The tables turned the moment you entered the room when he pushed you down on the bed. He climbed atop you and kissed you forcefully, undoing your bra with his deft fingers.
With open-mouthed kisses he made his way down your stomach stopping only to remove your panties, only a thin layer of lace between his mouth and your core. He was more careful when he undressed you than you were when you did the same for him. He wanted to see you in this again.
His lips teased your inner thighs first. He placed soft kisses everywhere except the place you wanted to feel his mouth most. He only gave in when you started to squirm. The sound you made when his tongue touched your clit told him how much you longed for this.
“You taste so good, baby,” he said, words muffled as his mouth was occupied.
“Leon, wait-”
He looked up at you, with kiss-dark lips and a dazed expression, clearly having been somewhere else mentally.
“I said I wanted to please you, so-”
“Trust me, I am more than pleased with what I’m doing right now.”
You were conflicted. Maybe he was a rare breed of man who truly got off on going down on women, or maybe he was lying. But if he were, he would be doing it because he wanted to make you happy. Because he wanted you.
And who were you to deny him?
You were multiple orgasms in when you finally got Leon to come up for air. His hair was a mess all thanks to your hands tugging at the strands. You were surprised he came up looking relatively unscathed when you’d worried you’d suffocated him with your thighs, maybe twisted his neck too. But, no, he met you face-to-face with a grin, only superseded in prominence by his hard-on.
You ran your thumb over his tip, through the fabric of his underwear which now had a small wet spot, and he groaned.
“My offer still stands,” you said.
His eyes flickered to your smile, which was wider than his and even his ever-bleeding heart couldn’t protest. His dick wasn’t the only part of him that wanted you.
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Leon always had an acute awareness of his own mortality. From the moment his parents were ripped away from him as a child, he realized the harsh reality that death can never be fully anticipated and all too often it happens far too early in one’s life. He was aware of that fact, but hadn’t watched anyone die in front of him until the Raccoon City incident. It takes seeing to believe. And even after believing the truth, it took him years to accept it.
It took him until he was 40 to get to that point. Even then, every ill-fated day that Hunnigan called him while he was with you, he was confronted with the same unsettling feeling, the fear of death that he thought he’d gotten over.
If he had to leave unexpectedly, he’d wake you up before he did, give you a hug goodbye. Sometimes, you were in such a deep sleep that you didn’t remember him saying goodbye at all. You’d later accuse him of leaving without telling you, and from then on, he’d leave a note by your bedside to confirm that he’d been there.
You kept them in a box in your closet. They were the sad reminders of the fact that he was gone, but they smelled like him. You always wondered how it was possible for paper to absorb the scent of someone’s cologne so easily. As it turned out, it wasn’t magic or an obscure fact of science, but rather, Leon spraying cologne directly onto the paper because he knew you liked the smell of it.
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In the beginning, you watched Leon get dressed in the morning just as you’d imagined back in the hotel room months ago.
Leon got up early while you stayed in bed, but he never left without kissing you goodbye. It was a bit of tradition and a bit of superstition. When he cupped your cheek, you felt the cold metal from the watch on his wrist against your skin.
Eventually, you became accustomed to the sound of Leon’s 6:30 AM alarm and the feeling of his weight being lifted from the bed. You could sleep through his morning routine until the goodbye kiss he always gave you on the forehead. Loving, but so sadly superstitious on his end.
You realized that part later.
You were awoken bright and early by Leon, which was generally a beautiful thing – though, that morning you could hear the apprehension in his voice. You were acutely aware that something was wrong. Sometimes it seemed his hyper-vigilance was wearing off on you.
“What’s wrong?” you asked.
He held himself back from asking you how you knew. “Nothing major,” he sighed, picking his words carefully. “I have to leave this afternoon.”
“Where are you going?” Based on his tone, you could guess that it wasn’t a tropical island vacation. He had business to take care of, and you certainly weren’t going with him. It didn’t really matter what city or country he was leaving for; it was all equally dangerous.
“Romania. I might be gone for a few weeks.” So, I woke you up early to spend as many hours with you as possible before I leave.
“I’m going to miss you,” you said, though your voice gave way to something you wouldn’t say until hours later, when you were naked in the sheets together, having one last bout of intimacy before his flight: “I’m scared of you dying”.
Often, in the post-orgasmic bliss, you tell him how much you love him, how good the sex was, and infinite praises. That morning, you told him you were scared he was going to die, and the minutes before that meant something entirely different. While he was away, memories of you beneath him would permeate his mind. It wasn’t the first time you had affected his ability to focus in the field, but now, he was overcome with not only longing, but also sadness and an unprecedented wave of guilt. How could he leave you like this? You must be worried sick. Hopefully, you’ve patched things over with your dad.
While Leon was gone, you moved back in with your dad. You rung his doorbell, ready to beg for his forgiveness, something you never thought you’d have to do.
To your surprise, he opened the front door with a smile.
“It’s good to see you,” he said when he pulled you into a hug. “I missed my little girl.”
You had convinced yourself that you’d made yourself immune to your father’s actions, that he couldn’t make you cry anymore. But, you broke down in tears. You were so used to apologies, excuses, and bargains. He rarely said he missed you, and never with such conviction.
“I missed you too, dad,” you said, refusing to let go of him. You had the shared knowledge that you didn’t mean that you’d missed him for the small period of time you spent at Leon’s, you missed the person he was when he was sober, the person who was standing in front of you. There was a significant period of your childhood during which he was sober, or at least rarely drunk, but you’d accepted that the man he was then had abandoned you. He was home.
He noticed your suitcase, and asked, “Are you planning on staying awhile?” He was trying not to get his hopes up. That was something you had in common.
“Can I?” you asked.
“Of course. I haven’t changed your room into a man cave just yet.”
He carried your suitcase upstairs, he helped you put the fitted sheet on your bed, he cooked dinner and sat across the table from you. It didn’t feel like a transaction or a placation either.
The topic was inevitably brought up.
“So, Leon…” he said, hoping you could fill in the blanks.
“I still love him, and I want to be with him,” you said.
His pointed gaze asked, why are you here?
“He had to leave for work,” you answered.
He nodded, accepting the situation. “I’ve been thinking a lot while you were gone.”
You braced yourself for impact.
“I think I was being too hard on Leon… and on you. I’ll admit, I still think it’s a little weird to see you two like that.” He looked up from his plate and made eye contact finally. “And I don’t want to find you two getting it on in my living room.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
“But, as long as he’s good to you, I’ll learn to be supportive. I don’t want to lose either of you in my life, especially my daughter.”
“Me neither. I want to be with Leon, but I need my dad too.”
“I know.” He paused before saying, “Plus, I thought about it, and if you insist on dating a middle-aged man, there are much worse ones you could pick.”
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Leon came home with a bloody nose, broken fingers and too many bruises to count. His clothes were torn and dirty, his eyes were tired, but his smile was warm as ever.
You wanted so badly to run into his embrace but you approached him slowly. Much like when he fell from the pedestal you kept him on the day you found him with another woman in the living room, his facade crumbled in front of you. His injuries were proof that he was breakable. He was made of skin and bone, powered by blood pumping through his veins just like you, not stardust or whatever angels are made of.
“I missed you,” you said, holding back tears.
“I missed you, too,” he said. He looked oddly well-adjusted to the situation. You wondered how many times he’d come home beaten up like this. Moreover, how many times there was a woman waiting for him.
This was the first time he'd tell you if you’d asked.
He headed towards the kitchen, but you stopped him.
“I’m just getting a glass of water, baby. I promise I’m not leaving.”
“I’ll get it. You should sit.”
He held up his hands in surrender. “Okay,” he said, backing towards the couch. He was too exhausted to argue. It was emasculating to have you take care of him, but he’d have to get used to it. He realized, then, that you’d do this for him – you’d have to – if you stayed with him through his old age. If he made it that far.
You brought him some water and sat down on the couch next to him. You surveyed his injuries. You tried not to stare, but failed. Even if he wasn’t covered in blood, you’d stare – he was the love of your life, how could you not?
“What?” he said, turning to you.
“Just looking at you,” you said, trying to remain cheery, though your tone gave way to something sad.
“I’m okay,” he said. “I’ve been through way worse.”
“That doesn’t make me feel better.”
He shrugged. “You told me to come back alive, not to come back unscathed,” he said.
You frowned. He grabbed your chin and moved closer to you, going in for the kiss. “If you don’t want me like this, then-” he started.
You cut him off with a kiss. You were lucky his lips weren’t injured. You could kiss him as hard as you wanted. And you did. When you pulled back, you said, “I want you like this. I’ve wanted you for weeks.”
He tried to speak, but you put your finger to his lips, shushing him. “But first,” you said, “I want to get you cleaned up.”
“Don’t worry. I planned on taking a shower before getting into bed.”
You stood and offered him your hand. He took it and headed for the bathroom, grabbing a towel from the linen closet on the way. When he noticed you were following him, he asked, “Are you coming with?”
“Yeah,” you said as if it should have been obvious. “Who else is going to help wash you?”
He sighed, and you could tell what he was thinking by the look on his face.
“You’ve taken care of me my whole life. Let me take care of you for once,” you said.
“Fine, but don’t get used to it. When I’m all healed, I’ll be taking care of you.”
“Whatever you say.”
You watched him strip and all of your thoughts faded – aside from one, which you spoke aloud. “You’re so hot. Your dick better not be injured.”
He laughed. “Don’t worry. I kept it safe just for you.”
He turned on the water and tried to adjust it to the optimal temperature, but he got distracted when your clothes came off. He whistled.
“Leon!” You covered up instinctively, feeling flustered by his whistling.
“Oh come on,” he said, “You’re gorgeous. I couldn’t help myself.”
His shower was not made for two – and it was further complicated by the fact that Leon had to bend over for you to be able to reach his head. But, you made it work. It felt emasculating, borderline humiliating, on his end to be so incapable of something simple, and to have to rely on his girlfriend to do it for him. But your soft hands washing his skin and your fingertips massaging his scalp, the way you made sure not to miss a single spot on his body, the way you cared – all he had was gratitude. And a whole lot of love for you.
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