#mr son writing

[dreadlord-mr-son]

You know the whole “Men Writing Women (badly)” phenomenon?

It’s often about boobs.

Except, I think it’s not really about the boobs themselves?

I think one of the problems is that these guys absolutely zero idea how women talk about themselves and their bodies? They can’t imagine women thinking of themselves in their own heads differently than the writers think of them when looking at them?

I think I could write a description of a woman or a woman performing an action, describe her boobs during it, and not land in the same energy as these guys?

Lemme try.

--

Wynn got up from the bed carefully, trying not to wake Nick up. He needed the extra sleep. As fun as last night had been, maybe they shouldn’t have stayed up so late.

She shivered as the chill hit her bare skin, goosebumps rising up and down her arms, and her nipples standing up in protest at her leaving the covers. Maybe she should still be in bed herself.

But she had to pee, and get dressed... they were expecting the fighting to start before noon, and she needed to be ready well before then.

After using the facilities, she started the process of layering on her clothing and armor. Making sure every strap was tight, especially over her chest. Didn’t need the girls getting loose in the middle of battle and distracting her.

“Looking good.” Nick leaned over her shoulder and kissed her ear, apparently haven woken up while she was in the privy.

--

Okay, I think that’s fine? I mean, I can’t be sure. Of course I’d think it was fine. I wrote it to be. But let’s contrast with my attempt at That Writer doing the same scene, with the same events.

...never tried to be a Men Writing Women Badly intentionally before, let’s see how it goes.

--

Wynn slid her shapely legs out from under the warm covers. Nick was still sleeping, and she didn’t want to disturb him. After the good time he’d shown her the night before, he deserved to sleep in and recharge his virility.

It was so cold her nipples perked up in the air. Dainty pillars erupting from their soft pink platforms. Goosebumps marred her smooth skin, and she regretted leaving her man’s arms.

But she had to use the restroom, and she didn’t have as much room for her bladder to fill as she slept because of its need to share space with her most feminine of organs. And then she would unfortunately have to cover her beautiful, naked body. There was going to be fighting today, and her womanly curves needed the protection of armor.

After leaving the bathroom, she first pulled on some underwear. Sensible, yet cute, they would have nicely framed her peach-like butt, if she hadn’t immediately covered them in unfortunately unflattering pants. Over the clothes, she fitted tight leather armor that hugged every curve of her body, cupping her bosoms protectively. She tightened the straps, even as it squeezed her like Nick had the night before. She imagined his hands on her again as she pulled the strings tighter. This would keep her from being distracted by her own womanly charms bouncing vigorously as she fought.

Suddenly, a manly musk filled her nose as Nick’s husky voice purred in her ear, “Looking good.” and his firm lips pressed against her soft lobe.

--

There you go. My argument that it’s not about mentioning boobs in the story, it’s that whole weird... VIBE that it gives off.

I dunno how well I captured it? 

But that’s my attempt.

Now I try to sleep a few hours because it’s past 5am. :p

[mrsonreblogs]

Working on Fireseeds -- the fanfic where I throw Wynn into Vathara's ATLA fic: Embers.

Finally hammered the first scene into place. I'll do some minor editing later. Tweaks here and there. And try to puzzle out the next scene... but tomorrow? Videogames.

[phoenixcatch7]

Oh yeah story idea: percy Jackson reaches his emotional/mental limits) (annabeth gets knocked down during a huge fight and nearly gets killed) and goes absolutely ape. We're talking hurricanes, earthquakes, a zillion exploding water sources, blood bending, poison bending, pounding rain, the works.

And it starts to kill him. Like eating too much ambrosia, his mortal body is burning up, too much power too quickly.

But through sheer force of will and the amount of divine energy he's putting out, he keeps clinging on as his body crumbles to ash, divine power building stronger and stronger and higher and higher.

And he accidentally brute forces his way into godhood.

And what would have been a true power reveal and two deaths, Percy being punished for his strength ala Frank, abruptly becomes a pseudo divine political drama, with percy at risk of any dozen horrific fates the frenzied council are slinging around (minus poseidon, who is also frenzied but unwilling to let his newly immortal son die) whilst dealing with all the ramifications of divinity and the new social strata of the immortal pantheon (and EVERYONE having opinions), all while trying to get back home.

But Annabeth survives because of it, so he can't really complain.

[unpredictable-probabilities]

Of Spells and Sons

Summary:

Hob and his crew are stranded on an island after their ship got damaged from a storm. 

When his crew gets captured in a sorcerer’s palace, Hob follows and negotiates with the sorcerer to free them. 

He only hopes to resist getting ensnared himself.

Word Count: 7,310

Notes (more at the end):

For Dreamling Week Day 1: Indulgence and First Time

Have fun reading!

(Read on AO3)

---

The ivory gates stood tall on the sand, intricate carvings of fantastical creatures adorned every surface.

They looked exactly like how William described them; Hob had found the palace.

The most remarkable thing about the gates was that they were open. Hob would have expected such sturdy fortifications to serve the purpose of keeping people out, and perhaps it would have been better that way, if these gates had been closed and quite troublesome to open.

Perhaps then Hob would have had an excuse to heed William’s words and just leave while they still could.

But even as he pondered it, Hob knew that he would not be able to turn away when his men were still trapped inside. They trusted him as their captain, and he would not abandon them in the hands of a sorcerer.

Hob steeled himself and walked in.

The gates opened up to a garden; the sweet smell of herbs and flowers permeated the air, and birds twittered on a small fountain filled with flowing water. A set of steps led onto a wide porch where shelves of books were carved into the walls, reaching a tall ceiling decorated with a stained glass window which allowed colours to dapple softly onto the floor, the cushioned chairs, and what seemed like a large reading nook in the corner furnished with a round mattress and a few pillows.

At a glance, it looked just like what one would expect of a lord’s house, but the hairs on Hob’s arms stood on end. The air seemed to prickle, like the moment just before a lightning strike, and Hob recalled his conversation with William no more than half an hour ago.

“William?” Hob stood up from inspecting the damage to the ship’s hull. The storm last night had caused them to bash against an outcropping of jagged rocks on the beach, and until the hull was fixed they were left stranded. “Why are you back so soon? Where are the others? And by the gods, what happened to you?”

William’s eyes were wide and his breath came in huffs, sweat beaded on his forehead despite the cool weather. Hob half-expected him to say that a wild boar was chasing him.

“A palace… There was a palace, Captain…” William ran a hand through his hair as he panted. “We were scouting the island like you ordered, and we came across a palace. The lord was out in his garden, and he invited us to dine. I hesitated to accept such a sudden offer, and I warned the others of the risks. But they were insistent, and in the end I didn’t stop them from going inside; we’ve had a terrible night dealing with the storm, after all. Still, something didn’t feel right, so I waited outside and kept watch…” He glanced nervously over his shoulder.

“Did the palace get attacked?” Hob asked in concern. He didn’t know anything about the inhabitants of this island, but perhaps the lord had enemies.

William looked back at Hob and shook his head. “There was a burst of light from inside, and I heard what sounded like a commotion. I was about to rush in to help, but I saw Hector running out. He grew a snout, and his screams turned to squeals as he shrunk down and grew a tail…” his hands trembled as he opened his waterskin and drank in large gulps.

There was a rustle behind Hob and he whipped around, a hand gripping the hilt of the sword at his hip.

A raven flew past him and perched on the roof; it seemed to have come from the tree nearby.

Hob let out a breath, forcing his muscles to relax. He would be slow in battle if he were too tense. He continued walking towards the porch, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being watched.

He glanced up and saw that the raven was still on the roof. It had a spot of snow-white feathers on its breast, and the rest of it was black as night. Its beady eyes trained on him, and he felt a warning in that gaze that made him stop in his tracks.

“We have to go save them,” Hob told his second-in-command.

“No we don’t!” William said adamantly. “We already lost many of our men in the war and the storm last night. Think about the remaining ones before there are none. Let’s repair our hull as soon as we can and sail far away from this island with the rest of the men and Lady Marzana. You promised her safe passage to her home island, did you not? How will you do that if you are lost here?”

“I can’t abandon our men, William,” Hob said somberly. He could still hear the screams of the soldiers as the waves of the storm took them; they called out for him but he couldn’t do anything. He will not lose any more “You don’t have to go with me, and if I’m not back by dawn tomorrow, prepare to sail away with the others.”

“We are no match against the power of a sorcerer; you don’t have to go either, Captain!”

“I have to try.”

Hob lifted his chin defiantly at the raven. He will not leave this place without first speaking to its lord.

The raven flapped its wings and flew further behind the palace, outside Hob’s line of sight.

Hob walked to the steps of the porch and ascended, keeping an eye out for anything suspicious.

There was a rustle, and a figure stepped out from behind one of the shelves, looking down at a book in his hands.

Hob stopped as his breath caught in his throat, all fear momentarily wiped from his mind as he took in the vision before him.

The man wore a silk robe that seemed woven from the night sky, its fabric catching the sunlight in such a way that it looked like stars were dancing across it. A cape draped over his shoulders and flowed down to his ankles, clasped at the chest with a crimson ruby. His skin was incredibly fair and yet it did not look pale as to be sickly, but rather as if the moon were lighting him up from within. Pitch-black hair grew untamed on his head, and Hob had the fleeting thought of wondering if it was as soft as it looked.

Brilliant blue eyes glanced up and aimed right at Hob.

“Lord of the palace?” Hob blurted out, if only to stall the sorcerer from attacking.

Those eyes narrowed at him and Hob felt the instinct to reach for his sword, but reminded himself not to do so lest he be seen as an attacker.

He was fortunate that Lady Marzana had been on their ship. She had overheard Hob's conversation with William, and warned him not to appear aggressive.

“What a noble heart you have, Sir Gadling.”

Hob stopped on his way into the forest and turned to face his unexpected companion. “Lady Marzana. I had thought you in the tent that the men had assembled.”

“I could not help but overhear your disagreement with William. Surely you do not intend to barge in the sorcerer's gates and demand your soldiers back?”

“Not barge in, no. Though I'm hoping that he would not be averse to a negotiation of sorts. There must be a compromise we could reach.”

Lady Marzana smiled but it did not reach her eyes. “Unfortunately, the sorcerer Morpheus does not share your inclination to see the good in everyone. You must be prepared.”

Hob frowned. “You know his name?”

He realised that he knew very little about Lady Marzana. She appeared before them after they won the war, as one of the healers in the island, then asked for safe passage aboard their ship to the island of Mercuria. Hob agreed as a show of thanks for her help in tending to their wounded, and it would not be an inconvenience at all because they would pass by that island on their way home to Ithaca.

But now that she revealed knowledge about the sorcerer, Hob remembered the little fortunes they have had since she came aboard their ship. Their nets were almost always bursting with fish after only some time in the ocean; the winds favoured their sails often, and the soldiers weren’t nearly as fatigued as they should be right after a long battle.

“Who are you?” Hob asked cautiously.

“Just a friend who can help you save your men. A foe such as Morpheus is not to be lightly trifled with. If you face him on your own with nothing but your sword, you will be no good to the friends you are attempting to rescue.”

Hob stared at Lady Marzana, gauging to see how much he could trust her. She had never lied to them, and whatever sorcery she did—for Hob was becoming increasingly certain that she was a sorceress herself—only helped and never harmed them. And in the unlikely event that she did intend them harm, there was a far more urgent enemy right now. And his men were waiting for their captain. 

Hob sighed. “What do I have to do?”

Lady Marzana seemed relieved at Hob’s acceptance of her help. “I advise you not to consume anything once you reach the palace, as he has the power to enchant food and drink. He wears a ruby that fuels his powers, and he may have only gotten stronger since we saw each other last. Even I do not know what he is truly capable of.”

“Can you cast a spell to shield me from his magic? I know how you helped us on the ship, surely you are powerful, too.”

“Not so against Morpheus,” Lady Marzana shook her head. “Which is also why I cannot go with you. Without his express permission, I cannot cross the threshold of his domain.” She held out her hand over a cluster of plants at the base of a tree; the ground trembled, and a flower floated into her palm, roots and all. “There lies a power within the root of the moly plant which would protect you from the sorcerer’s magic. You must consume it, and you will be granted immunity from his magic for ten minutes.”

“Only ten minutes? If I eat more than one, would I be protected for longer?”

“I’m afraid moly does not work that way, and it might do more harm than good if you consume any more.”

Hob nodded, feeling a little more confident in his plans. He took the plant and carefully held it in his palms. “Thank you, Lady Marzana.”

“Do not thank me, my friend. It is you who would have to face Morpheus,” Lady Marzana smiled gently.

“How do you know so much about him?” Hob wondered aloud.

“He is my brother.”

Now Hob stood in front of the sorcerer, who seemed nowhere near as friendly as his sister. And Hob had no delusions that he would be as helpful as she was.

“And who might you be… soldier?”

Hob swallowed. Morpheus’ voice was not as he had expected, as was everything else about him. For all of Lady Marzana’s warnings, she didn’t say anything about how utterly beautiful the sorcerer was. Not just in appearance, but with the way he carried himself, and how each word fell gracefully from his lips.

Hob had eaten the moly root before entering the gates, and now he seemed to feel its weight in the pit of his stomach, grounding him. Ten minutes. He had to move quickly.

He straightened his posture. “Captain Robert Gadling, my lord. I apologise for the intrusion, but I had been informed that the scouts I had sent to look through the island had wound up at your gates.”

Morpheus tilted his head. It was a subtle motion, but Hob felt gooseflesh all over his arms.

“You must be tired from being on your feet for so long; it is a long way from the beach. Take a seat, you may rest wherever you like. Allow me to bring you some refreshments.” Morpheus closed the book he was holding and placed it on a shelf.

“No,” Hob answered immediately. “No, thank you, my lord. I should prefer to know if any soldiers have passed by here, or if I had been misinformed by my friend.”

Morpheus seemed to glide towards Hob, his footsteps barely making a sound as his cape softly billowed behind him. “There is no longer any need to worry. You are here now.”

They were standing close enough to each other that Hob had to look up to hold Morpheus’ gaze. Perhaps he should have felt alarmed that the sorcerer’s eyes were now black pools with pinpricks of light, but all Hob could think of was how much they looked like the night sky on a cloudless evening.

The ruby pulsing with a red glow on Morpheus’ chest eventually caught Hob’s attention, and he felt waves of warmth on his skin.

The sorcerer was attempting to enchant him.

“Quite right, my lord,” Hob managed to force a casual smile onto his face. “Then perhaps you might have a cup of tea to spare? I should like to wait here in case my soldiers pass by again, if it’s all the same to you.”

Morpheus nodded once. “Of course.” Without looking away from Hob, he waved a hand to the side and a cup floated towards them along with a teapot. “Stay as long as you wish.”

Hob took the cup in his hands, and the teapot floated back to a table in the corner.

The sorcerer's face remained impassive as Hob raised the cup to his lips, feeling the warmth of the drink in the steam that rose from it.

His plan was madness; more likely than not it would get him killed and his soldiers would be trapped as pigs for the rest of their lives. But it was the only plan he had. He must make haste and act upon it before the effects of the moly fully wore off.

Hob flung the tea in the sorcerer's face and smashed the cup on the side of his head.

As Morpheus yelled and stumbled backwards in surprise, Hob grabbed hold of the ruby pendant with one hand and pushed the sorcerer away with the other.

The pendant came off; the ruby hissed and smoked in Hob's hand before its glow disappeared, leaving the stone a dull red.

“Impossible.” Morpheus stared at Hob in bewilderment, tea dripping from his cheekbones and ceramic shards in his hair. “How are you unharmed after touching my ruby?”

“As you can see, my lord, magic has no effect on me,” Hob pocketed the ruby—he wouldn't risk the sorcerer getting hold of it again—and took out what remained of the moly plant. “So you might as well tell me where you took my soldiers.”

Morpheus used his sleeve to wipe the tea from his face, and his slender fingers brushed away the shards in his hair. His eyes fixed on Hob, but they were blue once more. “You are lying. No mortal can acquire the moly plant without dire consequence.”

“Then I must be a sorcerer like you,” Hob grinned. “For I dug this up myself with my bare hands and consumed its roots.”

“My sister gave it to you, did she not?” Morpheus narrowed his eyes in realisation.

Oh well. It was worth a try.

Hob pocketed the flower again and cleared his throat. “Regardless, my lord, you and I are now evenly matched. Without your ruby, you cannot cast your spells. Now release my men and we shall leave this place undisturbed,” he said with confidence that he did not feel. After all, he wasn't certain whether the sorcerer's magic was truly only limited by his possession of the ruby.

Morpheus’ lips twitched into what almost looked like a smirk. “Evenly matched? You presume that I would need magic to get rid of one such as you.”

He reached to his hip and drew a sword from a scabbard that was hidden beneath its folds.

Hob blocked the blade with his own just in time before it would have struck his neck.

Morpheus lunged and Hob sidestepped, the sorcerer's sword cutting through the air right next to his ear.

Hob pushed forward with his attacks, but Morpheus moved like a viper; he darted out of the way with refined footwork and struck back faster than Hob could track him.

Hob could feel himself getting tired. He was a seasoned fighter, but he had not gotten much sleep because of the storm last night and the sorcerer was evidently trained in battle as well.

He decided to go for a gamble, stepping inward and risking a closer reach from his opponent.

He gained a cut on his cheek, but he gritted his teeth and struck at the hilt of Morpheus’ sword, locking and twisting his blade before maneuvering it forcefully to the side.

The sorcerer's sword flew out of his grip and clattered on the marble floor.

Hob pointed the tip of his blade under Morpheus’ chin. “You’ve lost.”

He felt sweat beading on his forehead, his muscles ached from the exertion, but he kept his grip steady on his weapon.

Morpheus stared at him, and it made something twinge in Hob's chest when he saw an unexpected vulnerability in that gaze.

“Do you know what happened the last time we had welcomed soldiers like you in our home?” The sorcerer's voice was quiet, but Hob felt the weight behind the question, and he almost feared the answer. “It was a tragedy for all of us; I myself faced a heavy loss which I will never forget. So tell me, Captain, can you blame me for aiming to protect my subjects at any cost?” His eyes shimmered with unshed tears even as he glared defiantly, and there was something so deeply wrong about seeing such a beautiful creature in anguish.

Hob's hold on his sword wavered for a moment, but he tightened his grip. “I'm sorry to hear of that terrible misfortune, my lord, but you have my word that my soldiers are men of honour, and would never harm any innocents.”

“Your word?” Morpheus’ voice had grown deeper and he took a step forward, not giving notice to the blade pointed at his throat. “And what is that worth, the word of a soldier?”

He kept walking forward, and Hob instinctively pulled the blade back in order to not injure him.

“What can you do, Captain Robert Gadling, in order to prove your good intentions?”

Hob didn't realise he had been backing away until his back hit a wall.

Morpheus looked at him through his long eyelashes, and didn't break eye contact as he slowly pushed Hob's sword to the side and out of the way. The movement caused him to shrug off his black cape, letting it fall to the floor.

Hob’s sword probably went the same way, though he barely felt it drop out of his hand as he tried and failed not to stare at the pale clavicle that the absence of the cape revealed.

“You have given me no reason to bestow you with my trust.” Morpheus leaned closer, his breath warm against Hob's ear. “But perhaps if you stay longer, we could… come to an agreement?” He ducked his head and the tip of his nose brushed Hob's jawline.

Hob's eyes fell close as his mouth dropped open in a shivering exhale.

He had just enough wits about him to sidestep and scramble away. “Lord Morpheus, I only wish to negotiate for the freedom of my men. Tell me your terms, and maybe I might persuade you to—”

“Persuade me?” Morpheus gracefully walked towards him, and Hob was vaguely aware that he wasn’t moving away nearly as fast as he should. “If you must, then, Captain, show me just how knowledgeable you are in the ways of persuasion.”

Morpheus put a hand on Hob’s chest and pushed.

Hob gasped as he fell backwards on soft cushions; he must have backed away towards the mattress without realising it, fool that he was.

Morpheus easily slipped between Hob’s parted knees and loomed over him with a promising smirk, propping himself up on his arms on either side of Hob’s head.

Merciful gods.

“Do not worry,” Morpheus purred as he lightly traced his fingers down the side of Hob’s neck to his chest. “I’ve got you now.”

Hob couldn’t help the soft groan he made as he arched into Morpheus’ touch, his body craving for more. He found himself placing his hands on the sorcerer’s narrow waist, his breaths coming in shallow gasps. How he wished that they had met in more normal circumstances; he would have liked to welcome this beautiful creature into his home…

His home… Ithaca… Robyn…

“I can’t,” he choked out and pushed the sorcerer off of him.

Hob nearly fell off the bed in his haste to stand up. He stumbled a few feet away and closed his eyes, digging the heels of his palms against his eyelids and taking a deep breath to get himself in order.

“My son is waiting for me back home,” his voice cracked with emotion. He put his hands on his hips and took another steadying breath. He knew it was unwise to keep his back turned on an enemy, but keeping the sorcerer in his sight didn’t do him any good either. “It has been five years since we lost his mother to sickness, I’m all he has. And I have been away at war for more than a year…” He could feel the fatigue and emotion well up in his chest, as if all that time away from home and his son were finally catching up to him.

He turned to face the sorcerer once more and did the only thing he could think of that might give him a chance.

He went down on one knee and bowed. “I beg of you, Lord Morpheus, let me and my soldiers go back home. Grant us mercy and we shall never disturb your island again.”

There was silence for a few heartbeats, and Hob held his breath, expecting to be struck down at any moment.

“Father?” a young man’s voice made Hob look up. “Jessamy said she heard sounds of battle.” He stood in the entryway and looked in concern at the sorcerer, and then cast a wary glance at Hob as he walked in. “Who is this man?”

Morpheus was still looking at Hob, an expression of contemplation on his face. “He was just leaving.” He turned to the young man. “Release the prisoners, and give them the potion to recover. Head to the beach where their ship is stranded. Bring Merv and immediately start on repairs.”

The lad looked like he had more questions, but in the end he just nodded and left the way he came.

“On your feet, Captain.” Morpheus took his cape from the floor and draped it once more across his shoulders. “It’s a long walk to the beach.”

“Wait, you’re helping us?” Hob furrowed his eyebrows as he stood up.

Morpheus sighed as if in resignation. “Yes. Now come along.” He headed for the gates without waiting to see if Hob was following.

Hob’s mind was still catching up to everything that had just happened, but he retrieved his sword and quickly went to walk alongside the sorcerer.

“You expect me to just trust you, after everything?” Hob raised an eyebrow.

“I do not.” Morpheus kept his gaze forward as they walked out of the gates. “I am merely taking you up on your offer to leave my home undisturbed.”

“Why are we going ahead of my soldiers? Can’t we wait for them?”

“Your soldiers would trust me even less after what I did to them. Orpheus has a far more trustworthy disposition. He will lead them back to your ship.”

“Orpheus…” Hob recalled the young lad’s blue eyes and raven hair. “Your son?”

“Yes.”

Things began to make sense; now Hob understood what could have convinced the sorcerer to let them go. It eased his worries a little to know that the help he was getting might be genuine.

“All right. Then, why are you here with me? I know the way back to the beach.” Hob didn’t bother to hide the suspicion in his voice

“I’m here because I’m interested.”

Hob’s eyes widened and his traitorous heart skipped in his chest. “In me?”

“In your experience.”

Hob almost managed to convince himself that he didn’t feel disappointed.

“You said that you are all that your son has. Why leave him to go to war?”

“Ah. I had to.” Hob stared in the distance, remembering that day he had to say goodbye. His tearful son had embraced him and Hob dearly prayed that it wouldn't be the last time. “A neighbouring kingdom was threatening to invade us, and I couldn’t let that happen. I couldn’t let my little Robyn grow up under invaders. As king, it was my responsibility to lead the army myself.”

Morpheus looked at him in mild surprise. “You are their king?”

Hob chuckled. “Why, do I not look kingly enough for you, my lord?”

Morpheus gave him a curious gaze. “I have known kings who are content to let others die in their battles.”

Hob grimaced; it was always unpleasant to be reminded of his ancestors. “I’ve known them, too. Never did like them. But anyway, the war is won now. And it’s time I make it up to Robyn. He needs a father.”

Morpheus only hummed in acknowledgement. It would probably be wiser to be quiet the rest of the way. No reason to draw more attention from this dangerous sorcerer.

Only, Hob never claimed to be wise. And he always knew he was too curious for his own good.

“Orpheus. Where is his mother? Is she all right with him leading a group of armed soldiers across your island?” Hob recalled how his own mother fussed over him before he left for war.

Morpheus stiffened beside him, and for a moment Hob wondered if he had gone too far.

“She was killed. While protecting our son.”

Hob felt a sense of dread and he suddenly remembered what Morpheus had said when Hob’s sword was at his throat.

“Do you know what happened the last time we had welcomed soldiers like you in our home? It was a tragedy for all of us; I myself faced a heavy loss which I will never forget.”

“Five years ago.” Morpheus’ voice broke through Hob’s thoughts. “The sickness that took your wife was most likely the same one that brought scarcity throughout the kingdoms. Men were too sick to farm, to trade. And resources were dwindling. Soldiers came to this island under the pretence of friendship, then they turned around and betrayed us.” He recalled the events in a distant tone, as if they were things that happened to someone else. “I was not powerful enough then. They were taking whatever they could find, including people to be made slaves. I was shackled, and could do nothing as they took Orpheus as well. Calliope, she… She fought them. And she was killed in front of our son. In front of me.”

There was a silence that Hob didn’t dare break. He felt sick to his stomach. It broke him when Eleanor died, and she had gone peacefully in her sleep. He didn’t know what it would have done to him if she had been killed so tragically in front of him and Robyn.

Morpheus continued in a quieter voice. “I do not recall what happened next. Orpheus tells me that I gave a cry of anguish, and a bright light burst forth. When it dissipated, the soldiers were dead. I vowed then to never let that happen to my people again. To my son.”

The silence grew heavier; no sound could be heard apart from the leaves crunching underneath their footsteps. After a while, Hob managed to find the words.

“Your son, Orpheus. He’s worried about you.”

Morpheus turned to him with a frown. “What?”

“Have you ever talked to him, about your grief?”

“What my son needs is a strong father. I will not burden him.” Morpheus sounded offended.

“Isn’t being shut out by a loved one a burden in itself?” Hob pointed out. “He wishes to care for you as you do for him. You can let him in and still protect him.”

Morpheus’ frown deepened, but it looked more like confusion now. “And this is relevant to you? Why should you care about my relationship with my son?”

Hob shrugged. “Maybe I’m worried about you, too.”

Bewilderment appeared on the sorcerer's fair face. “I tried to kill you.”

“And I’ve killed many soldiers to protect my son. I’ve got no high horse to look down from.”

Morpheus stared at him with an expression that Hob couldn’t quite read. And before he could ask, a voice interrupted them.

“Captain!” William jogged over to them, several yards away from the beach where they could see repairs being done on the ship. “So it’s true, what Lady Marzana said. The sorcerer is our ally now?” He frowned at Morpheus.

“For the time being,” Morpheus said evenly.

“He is, Will,” Hob said. “He would help repair our ship if we promise to leave the island in peace.”

“You couldn’t just say that to us when we first arrived at your palace?” William was still frowning at Morpheus. “I knew my friends were fools to eat at your table.”

“Not you, though. I heard you talk to them, Will. Convincing them to leave. You were smart enough to see through my tricks, and clever enough to call for aid.” Morpheus’ blue eyes regarded William, and the latter seemed caught off-guard.

“I– Of course I was!” William said defensively, though Hob noticed that his face had gone red. And not from anger. “You couldn’t have gotten me to stay even if you tried.”

“Is that so?”

“Will,” Hob cut in. “Go help with the repairs. And make sure everyone gets enough rest and food before we sail.”

“Yes, Captain,” William nodded before going back to the ship.

“Do you talk like that to everyone?” Hob asked Morpheus, who just stared blankly at him.

“Like what?”

Like you’re trying to charm their pants off. Hob shook his head to clear it. Why was he even letting it affect him? “Never mind. Your sister’s tent is nearby, I can take you to her if you want.”

Morpheus nodded. “Lead the way, Captain Gadling.”

“Hob,” he said without thinking. ”If you’re going to call him Will, might as well call me Hob.”

“What?” Morpheus frowned in confusion.

Hob wanted to thwack himself on the head. Gods, but he was so gone for this man. “Uh, Hob. It’s what my friends call me,” he tried for a casual tone as they continued walking.

Morpheus tilted his head curiously. “And you see me as your friend?”

“I’d rather that than my enemy. We’re here,” he gestured to the tent ahead.

Just then, a figure walked out of it and beamed at them. “I thought I heard voices.” Lady Marzana approached. “Brother.”

“Sister.” Morpheus spoke with a mild hint of exasperation.

“I see you’ve met my friend Hob.”

“If he really is your friend then why send him to me? You knew I could have harmed him.”

“But I wanted to believe you wouldn’t. And I am pleased to see I was right.” Her eyes were twinkling as she looked at the two of them. “It is good to see you again, brother.”

Morpheus sighed. “And I you, sister. Despite your penchant for meddling with my life.”

“It always works out in the end, doesn't it?” She glanced at Hob and winked at Morpheus. “Anyway, I heard my nephew's voice. Is he here?”

“He is down at the ship, helping Merv with repairs.”

“Oh lovely! I shall go see him.” She made her way to the beach where they could hear the voices of men conversing.

Morpheus turned to Hob. “How do you know my sister?”

“She was a great help in healing my men after the war. So when she requested passage to Mercuria, we welcomed her to our ship. Though we didn't know she was a sorceress then.”

There it was again, the curious look from Morpheus. “You let a stranger onto your ship with no questions asked?”

“Like I said, she helped heal my men. It seemed only fair to help her in return.”

“A man who talks of fairness right after a war,” Morpheus mused. “You are too trusting, Robert Gadling.”

“Worked out in the end, though, right?” Hob winked, grinning as he repeated Lady Marzana's words.

A smile lifted the corners of Morpheus’ mouth; it was barely noticeable, but even his eyes were alight with mirth, and to Hob it looked like the sun coming out.

There was a loud snap from above, and Hob looked up to see a beehive attached to a broken branch falling right on his head.

Before he could react, a red glow surrounded the beehive, stopping it mere inches from his face.

Hob stared at it with wide eyes, frozen in place. The beehive slowly lifted, and Hob looked to see Morpheus with his hand out, his eyes black as the night sky and dotted with stars. He guided the beehive back into the forest where it disappeared into a thicket of trees far away from them.

“Last night’s storm must have weakened the branches. You must be cautious.” Morpheus’ eyes returned to their blue hue.

Hob gaped at him. “I thought you couldn't do magic without your ruby.”

“Yes. So it is fortunate that I have it now.” He reached into his sleeve and pulled out the red gem.

Hob looked down and patted his pockets, emptying them to see that he only had the moly plant and nothing else. “How…?” he looked at Morpheus.

“I took it back when you were on my bed.” Morpheus put the ruby back in his sleeve.

Hob’s mind suddenly recalled just what happened on that bed, and the sounds he had made at the barest touch from Morpheus. “Ah.” He cleared his throat and hoped the heat on his face wasn’t noticeable. “Wait, if you had that on you this whole time… You could have killed me.” Hob felt a chill down his spine. It was like being told that an arrow had almost hit him in the neck and he had no idea.

Morpheus arched a perfectly shaped brow. “Did you want me to?”

Hob stared at Morpheus with his mouth open, then he laughed, a proper one that made his shoulders shake. He couldn't help it. The relief of surviving the storm, successfully freeing his men, and now the certainty that he was right to trust this sorcerer. Morpheus. Who loved his son as much as Hob loved his own. Who would go to great lengths to keep his people safe, much like Hob did when he decided to sail off to war.

“Was that a joke, my lord?” Hob said in mock disbelief. “I didn't think you were capable of making one.”

“Crude.” Morpheus’ tone was affronted, but his lips held a smile.

A cheer rose up in the distance where the ship was docked, and they heard the sound of waves as the ship must have been pushed back into the water.

“Orpheus and Marzana do put a livelier spin on things whenever they are together,” Morpheus said fondly, looking in the direction of the sound. He turned to Hob. “It seems like your ship is repaired. Your soldiers would be waiting for you now.”

For the first time since sailing away, Hob felt some hesitation in going back home. He still wanted to, of course, but now… Maybe he could allow himself to want other things, too.

Hob stepped closer to Morpheus. “Can I… I mean, will I be able to… visit, here? Whenever? You're not going to magically make the island invisible after we leave?” He tried to laugh to make light of the question, but it sounded nervous to his own ears.

Morpheus raised his eyebrows in surprise. “You wish to come back?”

Hob nodded and fidgeted with his earlobe. “I do.”

“Why?”

“I'm interested?” Hob tried for a charming smile.

Morpheus shook his head lightly in what Hob dared to believe was a gesture of fondness. “I would not conceal the island. You will find this place again if you wish.”

“All right. Good.” Hob shifted on his feet, stepping closer. “Are you sure you don't want to come with me to the ship?” He nodded to the beach.

“Quite sure. Even if Marzana has convinced your soldiers that I am not an enemy, it would be best if you are not seen with me. You cannot risk losing their trust.”

“Right.” Hob said, but somehow he still couldn't get his feet to move. It somehow didn't feel right to just leave.

Morpheus didn't make a move to leave yet either. And for a moment they just stared at each other.

“What you said about Orpheus… About not shutting him out. I will keep it in mind.”

Hob smiled. “I’m glad to hear that. You…” You deserve to be cared for, even if you don’t realise it. “You take care, Lord Morpheus.”

“And you as well, Your Highness,” Morpheus nodded politely. “Leaders deserve their rest after times of adversity. No one should have to put up a facade of strength all of the time.”

“Even you?” Hob teased.

“Even you. Hob.” Morpheus spoke sincerely, looking right into his eyes.

Hob’s breath caught in his throat. That soft, deep voice curled around his name as if it were something precious. It was a breath of a syllable, and yet Hob felt drawn to it. A moth to a flame. 

They were standing so close to each other, and Hob felt his mouth go dry. He instinctively licked his lips, and he noticed Morpheus’ eyes unmistakably track the movement.

Morpheus swallowed, a subtle thing, but Hob was already staring. His gaze lingered on the pale throat, traced up to rose-pink lips, to piercing blue eyes, imprinting each detail in his mind.

Morpheus’ face drew closer, and Hob’s heart was drumming so loudly in his ears that he couldn’t even tell who was leaning in. Maybe it was both of them. Maybe it didn’t matter. What mattered was Morpheus wasn’t pulling away, that they were so close they shared the same air.

Hob looked into the sorcerer’s eyes and saw an uncertainty he had never seen in them before. Morpheus knew what he wanted, but he was waiting, unsure whether Hob wanted the same thing.

Hob decided to remedy that.

He crossed the gap, holding the back of Morpheus’ neck as he pressed their lips together. Morpheus inhaled sharply in surprise, but then Hob felt hands on the small of his back, pulling him closer.

The glide of their lips against each other was soft, sweeter than Hob could have imagined. There was a split-second of irrational worry in the back of his mind; he had never kissed a man before, and he was afraid to be found lacking.

But then Morpheus’ tongue was tracing his bottom lip, and all thoughts fled him. He reached out with his own tongue and heard himself groan as Morpheus met him eagerly.

Hob could not on pain of death tell how much time had passed. It felt like he had always been here, exploring the heat of Morpheus’ mouth, clutching at his midnight hair. After everything he had done as king, as captain, Hob felt that he deserved such indulgence, heedless of how it might slowly be driving him mad. Morpheus held him close, returning the kiss with equal fervour, his arms strong and sure around Hob. 

When they parted, they were both flushed and out of breath. The sight of Morpheus—with his cheeks red and his enraptured eyes focused entirely on Hob—was something Hob knew he would never forget even if he tried. And he certainly wasn’t going to.

“I…” Hob finally remembered how to speak. “I’ll come back, after—”

Morpheus put a finger to Hob’s lips. “No promises, Hob Gadling,” he said softly, before releasing Hob’s lips to caress his cheek. “We have this moment, now, and that is enough. I am… glad. To have met you.”

Hob leaned his forehead against Morpheus’ own, closing his eyes and taking a shaky breath. “Me too, Morpheus. Me too.”

They finally pulled away from each other, then Hob grabbed Morpheus’ face with both hands and kissed him again, only for a moment, but it was firm and adoring. He took a moment to look at Morpheus’ face, now soft with mild surprise as opposed to the cold stoic one he had first seen.

Hob smiled, nodded, and turned away to quickly head to his ship. He was afraid that if he stayed a second longer, he would find more reasons not to leave.

***

Hob stood at the stern of the ship as they sailed away, watching the island get farther and farther. Behind him, he could hear William shout orders, could hear the soldiers’ footsteps as they manned the sails and secured the rigging. But all of it seemed so distant, as far away as the stars that were beginning to come out.

“Feeling alright, Captain?” Lady Marzana walked up beside him.

Hob smiled politely, but he could feel that it didn’t reach his eyes. “Yes, my lady. I just need a bit of rest, that’s all.”

Lady Marzana nodded and followed Hob’s gaze on the island. “I hope my brother did not give you too much trouble.”

“No more than I gave him,” Hob said easily, the smile on his lips now genuine. He had a suspicion that it would always be the case, him grinning like a fool at the mere mention of Morpheus.

The look that Lady Marzana gave him was both intrigued and knowing, and Hob averted his gaze as he felt his face warm.  

“Ah, I see.” Lady Marzana chuckled. “It’s good to see that you two got along quite well. Meanwhile, I shall get some rest myself. Captain,” she tipped her head politely.

Hob returned the gesture, and he was left alone once more.

With the winds favouring their sails, the island was now only a small speck of green in the distance. As he watched it get even smaller, Hob made a promise to himself.

What they shared on that island might have been enough for Morpheus, but not for Hob. With the stars as his witness, he will return to Morpheus. And if the gods were merciful, Morpheus would want him still.

He looked up at the sky and felt himself smile, taking a deep breath of the refreshing ocean breeze. Robyn was waiting for him back home. Morpheus—though Hob dared not hope too much that he was waiting—was on an island not too far away. For the first time in as long as he could remember, he felt excited.

Mornings of laughter with his rambunctious child, warm evenings with his beautiful sorcerer. Some might say that his fantasies were far too banal for a king to have, but Hob didn’t need anything else.

With such a future ahead of him, there was so much to look forward to.

And so much to live for.

---

Notes:

This is the result of two of my hyperfixations combining in my brain. I hope you liked it!

Here are the songs from The Circe Saga that I based this fic on:

Puppeteer

Wouldn't You Like

Done For

There Are Other Ways

Feel free to share your thoughts in the comments! <3

---

(Dreamling Week 2024 Masterpost)

(Masterlist)

[gracestellaerie]

Headcanons on Mr. Dark?

I love this silly bastard so much here are some of my headcanons for him

So first of all he would definitely rely on his shoulders/chest when it comes to his body movement. Sorta similar to how Dracula from Hotel Transylvania moves where he just tugs his cape a lot and mostly relies is expressions on body

He's very quiet/introverted and likes to read. He doesn't like loud/bright places and spends a lot of his time indoors.

In my universe Mr. Dark and Raymesis father-son relationship is soooo real. So here's some HCs about them!!

Raymesis was originally made by Mr. Dark in order to destroy Rayman. He was created to be a better Bad Rayman who could think on his own instead of just being a spell that follows orders. Although not long after, he grew attached to Raymesis and ended up having a father-son relationship with him since he has his own personality and traits unlike his previous Rayman clone

Although Raymesis still dislikes Mr. Dark. he thinks he gloats too much and finds him annoying. He also hates the "villainy" way he talks and just finds it weird. (There's more to be said about these two but I'm saving it for another time!!)

Mr. Dark would just go all "WHEN I DESTROY RAYMAN AND HIS FRIENDS... I WILL TAKE OVER THE WORLD!! AND THERE WILL BE NOTHING BUT DARKNESS!!" And Raymesis' usual response would be "Cool, can I have breakfast now?"

BUT YEAH THAT'S ABOUT IT!! Feel free to ask more of these because they're fun to do :D also it's nice being able to make up things for characters I don't know much about generally

[itsalwaysforyou]

jay not asking coach about letting lonnie onto the team bc he doesn’t want to do anything coach might disagree with…….

[inamindfarfaraway]

I love that we're getting focus on Chris Rodriguez early in the TV show, so that we have time to get invested in him before he a) betrays the camp and b) is driven so insane that only Dionysus can cure him. Knowing him beforehand will also make his relationship with Clarrisse, friendship and romance, feel more interesting.

What other cool, fun, not-heartbreaking characters will the show give more attention and depth? Silena Beauregarde? Charlie Beckendorf? Micheal Yew? Castor and Pollux? I can't wait!

[yoosungisbabie]

gimme the wheel - day three

@juminweek2019

jumin x mc

rating: G

prompt: quality time

warnings: none♡

word count: 2,712

ao3 link

“For our next date, I think that Fiji would be a wonderful destination at this time of year,” he added, making her hand tense briefly before relaxing. “Jumin,” she sighed, unable to help herself from chiding him a little. He looked over at her, hearing the shift in her tone. “It doesn’t have to be Fiji."

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“I think that is enough wine for tonight,” Jumin said slowly, placing his empty glass down as the gentle breeze blew past them. 

“I never thought I would hear you say that,” she chuckled, finishing the last of her own glass as he eyed her. 

“Have you enjoyed yourself?” he wondered, tilting his head slightly. She smiled, glancing down at her lap for a moment before taking another look at the gorgeous vineyard spread out in front of them. 

“This has been incredible, Jumin,” she replied, reaching over to place her hand over his as it rested on the arm of his chair. He looked proud of himself, smiling back at her and turning his hand over so their fingers could intertwine. 

“I agree. There is something different about this vineyard compared to the farm back home,” he thought aloud, looking down at their hands as he ran his thumb over hers. She nodded, glancing back at the sun setting on the horizon. She had noticed that all the wine sampling they’d done today had aided in relaxing her fiancé. 

“For our next date, I think that Fiji would be a wonderful destination at this time of year,” he added, making her hand tense briefly before relaxing. 

“Jumin,” she sighed, unable to help herself from chiding him a little. He looked over at her, hearing the shift in her tone. 

“It doesn’t have to be Fiji,” he revised, and she immediately shook her head. 

“No, that’s not it,” she almost laughed, taking her hand from his and standing from her seat. She stepped over, placing herself down on his lap and setting a hand on his shoulder. He stared at her with wide eyes, wrapping an arm around her waist to secure her where she was. 

“Dates don’t always have to be trips to foreign countries or expensive outings,” she spoke softly, watching him relax just a little. “It can be as simple as spending time together,” she continued, smoothing the fabric of his shirt across his shoulder. He blinked at her in obvious confusion.

“We have spent the whole day together. Would you like the dates to last longer?” he wondered softly. She couldn’t help but laugh a little, shaking her head and leaning in to kiss him gently. 

“I am more than thrilled to be here with you, Jumin,” she clarified, watching his eyes open slowly to focus back on her. “Will you let me plan our next date?” she asked, placing her free hand on his other shoulder. 

“Of course, my love,” he agreed, pressing his forehead against hers. She observed him for just a moment, wondering what he could be thinking. 

“Do you trust me?” she asked, seeing his eyes open fully as he pulled away from her slightly. 

“Without a doubt,” he answered quickly, and she smiled, nodding. Leaning forward, she put her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes and already running through a list of ways they could simply spend time together. 

—

“Thank you, Driver Kim!” she grinned, offering a wave as Jumin closed the car door and stepped up onto the sidewalk with her. As the car pulled away, she turned to her fiancé, watching him look around in curiosity. 

“I’ve never been in this part of the city before,” he said, turning his attention back to her expectantly. She smiled, taking his hand excitedly. 

“I’m your personal tour guide,” she teased, admiring the way she’d had him dress down just a little so that they wouldn’t get as many stares. 

“Lead the way,” he smiled, tightening his grip on her hand as she turned to start walking with him. 

After getting off work that day, she’d surprised him at his apartment and let him know that she had finished planning their date. After helping him pick out a different outfit, they set out, their destination a complete mystery to Jumin.

They passed a few storefronts, soon arriving at a small, secondhand bookstore. Jumin would have walked past it if not for her anchoring hand pulling him back, making her giggle a little. 

“Here we are,” she said, seeing his eyes take in every detail. 

“Are you in need of a book?” he wondered, making her chuckle a little to herself.

“I like to come here to look every so often. There are a lot of books that I can’t find anywhere else that end up here,” she explained, opening the door for both of them. He stepped in after her, his eyes taking in all that they could. When he didn’t say anything, she led him into the first aisle, watching him from the corner of her eye. The set of his shoulders and jaw began to relax once they were surrounded by books. Once she’d let go of his hand to investigate a certain book, he leaned forward to look closer, becoming interested in a dark-brown bound book. 

“These books were previously owned?” he asked quietly, his deep voice sounding like part of the magic of the building they’d stepped into. 

“Yes. Once someone no longer needs them, this store will sell them for a discounted price,” she explained, setting her book down and continuing to look. Jumin hummed thoughtfully, flipping the book open in his hands and becoming quiet once more. She lingered nearby, finally giving in to her curiosity after a few minutes. 

“What did you find?” she wondered, leaning close to him to see the contents of the book. He turned it towards her, her eyes taking a moment to focus on the small text. 

“I’ve never seen a book on witchcraft from this year,” he commented, making her lips twitch up into a smile. 

“I love when I find treasures here,” she said, watching him nod and turn the page. She moved through more of the aisles, chuckling as he followed, still buried in the book. 

When they passed by a table and chairs near the back of the store, a sudden meow startled the both of them. A thin, tabby cat was curled up on the table next to a pile of books, yawning at them and wriggling as it showed its belly in anticipation.

She cooed, reaching out slowly so that it could sniff her hand. Immediately, it rubbed its nose against her fingers, and when she began to pet it, the rumbles of purring resonated through the air. 

“Is this a marketing tactic as well?” Jumin wondered, watching the small cat nearly fall asleep again as she petted it. That made her giggle, her hands pulling away once the cat had curled into a ball again. 

“I think this one is a guest like us,” she smiled, saying goodbye as they continued. Jumin still had a strong grip on the book he’d picked up, his eyes searching for anything similar on the shelves as they passed. 

“Would you like to get that one?” she wondered, seeing him look at the book and then her. 

“I suppose I should. I’m not sure I would be able to find this version again,” he responded, running his hand over the front cover. 

She led him to the checkout counter, both of them respectfully greeting the older man who helped them. 

Once the book had been carefully wrapped in paper and placed in a bag for their convenience, they stepped back outside, seeing the beginnings of the sunset starting overhead.

“Where is our next destination, my love?” he asked, intertwining their hands once more and making her raise an eyebrow at him. 

“What makes you think there’s more to this date?” she wondered teasingly in reply, seeing him think for a moment. 

“I wouldn’t think that you would plan a date that would end so quickly,” he answered simply, making her heart beat twice in a row unexpectedly. 

“You’re right,” she smiled to herself, turning her head away slightly. “The next stop is only a few blocks away.” He nodded, letting her lead the way as they walked side by side. 

She thanked him as he held the door to one of her favorite cafes open, stepping in and taking a deep breath. Turning to watch her fiancé, she smiled as he looked around briefly. 

“Are you hungry?” he asked, knowing her all too well. 

“Their strawberry cake is something that I’ve never been able to find a better recreation of,” she nodded, pulling him over towards the counter. 

“How are you, Mrs. Park?” she asked, watching the older woman behind the counter soften.

“I haven’t seen you in some time! How are you?” she wondered, immediately reaching over to their glass display of treats to grab a slice of cake topped with fresh strawberries. 

“I’m doing very well. How is your husband?” she asked in reply, seeing Jumin examine the other treats they had on display. 

“He’s doing much better. Is this your fiancé?” Mrs. Park asked, eyeing Jumin knowingly. She couldn’t help but feel a little shy, nodding and looking up at him as he bowed slightly. 

“I’ve heard so much about you,” Mrs. Park grinned, tapping a few things on her register as she looked eagerly at Jumin. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he replied, immediately taking his card from his wallet. “Please add another slice.” Mrs. Park nodded happily as MC looked up at him, quickly paying for their treats before she could even reach for her purse. 

They chose a table by the windows, watching as the streets became more and more crowded as the night began. She happily dug into her cake as Jumin examined his slice carefully.

“It looks simple enough,” he said mostly to himself. She smiled as he took the tip off the end, placing it in his mouth with practiced poise. She took another bite, seeing him place his fork down and glance out the window. 

“I thought it would be much too sweet,” he commented, looking down at his plate before meeting her eyes.

“That’s why I like it so much. It’s not too sweet, and the strawberry flavor is very fresh,” she nodded, seeing him nod along with her thoughtfully. 

Suddenly, he got up from his seat, walking back over to the counter as she stared after him in surprise. After a moment, Mrs. Park handed him a cake box, grinning widely and blushing as he handed her a tip.

She watched him in adoration, smiling as he walked back over and placed the box on the end of the table so it was out of their way. 

“You like it that much?” she chuckled as he sat back down and smoothed out his pants. 

“I would like for my chef to recreate it, and I would like to keep some at my apartment so you don’t have to travel so far to enjoy it,” he explained, pulling out his phone to text his personal chef. She giggled, her heart warming at his thoughtfulness. 

“You could have asked her for the recipe, Jumin,” she commented, seeing him raise an eyebrow and look up from his phone. 

“An even better idea,” he murmured, getting out of his seat once more to walk over to the counter. 

Once they’d received a handwritten recipe from Mrs. Park, who’d teasingly told them that if they leaked it she would take legal action, they stepped back outside. The sun had just set, the city lighting up and becoming more and more lively. Jumin held her hand protectively, using his other hand to balance the cake box and his wrapped book. 

“Where to next, darling?” he wondered, raising his voice slightly to be heard over the bustling noise of the crowds flooding past them.

“I texted Driver Kim, and he should be here any moment,” she told him, leaning closer to speak into his ear. Jumin turned to look at her, nearly frowning. 

“Is the date over?” he wondered, making her smile and melt a little at how disappointed he sounded. 

“No! No, I just would rather spend more time somewhere quiet,” she explained, watching his shoulders lose their tension as he took a breath and nodded. 

“It will be good to get this cake into the refrigerator,” he added, stepping forward as he was able to spot Driver Kim pulling up from over the crowd. He pulled her along, maneuvering through the throngs of people and opening the car door for her when they arrived. 

On the ride home, Jumin opened his book once more and read her some excerpts that he found interesting. She listened intently, always content to watch him talk about something he was interested in. 

“Are there more places that you have had positive experiences at around the city?” he wondered as the elevator doors closed slowly. They began their ascent up to his penthouse as she chuckled, nodding immediately. 

“There are so many places that I would like to take you to, Jumin,” she replied, looking up at him just in time to see a hint of excitement flash across his face. 

“If you’re interested, I think it would be reasonable for us to alternate. One date can be your planning, and the next can be mine,” he proposed, glancing down at her for approval. She couldn’t hold back her smile, taking his hand again excitedly. 

“That sounds perfect. I can’t wait,” she gushed, reaching up to place a quick kiss on his cheek. 

“I’m glad you like the idea,” he said through a growing smile, holding her hand a little tighter as the doors opened on the top floor. 

“Love it,” she corrected, stepping out first and pulling him along. 

Once the cake was in the fridge and they finished discussing dinner plans, she invited him over to the couch where Elizabeth the 3rd was eagerly waiting for them. 

“She is so cute,” MC cooed, sitting down to pet her as Jumin came to sit in the spot just beside his fianceé. He ran a hand up and down her thigh absentmindedly, bringing her attention back to him as she turned to face him.

“Is there anything you would like to watch?” she wondered, seeing him move his gaze to the television on the wall in front of them. 

“Is watching television another part of spending time together?” he wondered, and she nodded, reaching for the remote. 

“It can be. No thoughts? A movie, a drama, anything,” she prompted. He reached his hand out to ask for the remote, and she placed it in his palm as he sat back against the couch. 

“Since we’ve spent such quality time together, it would only be fair to end the night with a quality classic,” he said softly, quickly pulling up a drama that immediately recognized.

“Stairway to Heaven?” she asked, glancing over at him to gauge if he had already watched it.

“A classic, like I said. Do you disagree?” he asked teasingly, placing an arm across her shoulders as she smiled and shook her head. 

“Not at all. I’m just surprised,” she admitted, leaning against him as he pulled her closer. The opening scenes began, and she couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed by how happy she was. 

“Thank you for coming out with me tonight,” she smiled, sitting up to look directly at him. He searched her eyes, blinking slowly. 

“Thank you for planning this. My eyes have been opened,” he murmured softly, gladly leaning forward as she moved to kiss him. She hummed against his lips, sitting up just a little more as his hand pressed into her cheek gently. 

When she pulled away, he quickly kissed her cheek, making her heart skip as she blinked at him. He smiled, kissing her briefly before pulling away. 

“You’re very distracting,” he whispered, making her grin as she curled back into his side. 

“I’ll let you watch your drama for now,” she teased, feeling him tug her closer as she curled her legs up onto the couch. His hand moved further down until he poked her side, tickling her before she tried to push away. He pulled her back, chuckling deeply and kissing the top of her head as they finally settled. 

As the first episode started, they both relaxed into each other, completely forgetting their dinner plans as they dozed off in each other's arms.

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thank you so much for reading! i wrote this one quickly today, and I'm not super satisfied with it, but I hope there was something enjoyable about it! I'm going to continue working on tomorrow's entry tonight, so hopefully it will be a little more polished!

again, thank you so much, and I hope you have a wonderful rest of your day!

Mel x

[starsfic]

prompt: MK's team, Sun Wukong, Spider Clan, the Bull family, and the dragon family go to an amusement park (bonus if Tang, Red Son, Mei, MK, Sandy and Huntsman has the most fun)

*the video opens up with a close-up of Long Xiaojiao’s face, wearing a bright grin*

“HEEEY, Dragonets! It’s your gal Mei here and we are in the middle of our third day at Shanghai Disney Resort!” 

*camera whirls to reveal Tang snapping a picture with Mr. and Mrs. Long posing in front of the castle. Next to them, Pigsy and Spider Queen are reading a map, neither looking amused* 

“For those who don’t know, my family and I and our friends are spending one week here! Today, me and my friends are doing a special challenge!”

*into frame leaps Qi Xiaotian* 

“DISNEY BOUNDING!”

*Xiaojiao squeals as she wraps a hand around her bestie.* “That’s right! Me and my boys agreed to do some Disneybounding. You guys voted and here are our outfits!” *she snaps her fingers* “Red, if you will?”

*The camera shifts and backs away, revealing their outfits.*

“For me, it was Mulan…” *Xiaojiao is wearing her classic green jacket. Under it is a cute yellow tank paired with yellow jeans. A big blue belt with a a red bow sits between the shirt and pants. Finishing the look is a red dragon purse and Xiaojiao’s hair pulled back in a bun with a familiar flower hairpiece* “And for my boy Xiaotian…”

“Jim Hawkins!” *Xiaotian wears a cute blue jean jacket that match his dark combat boots. He wears grey-greenish overalls over a yellow shirt and has pulled his hair back into a ponytail. He also wears a purse, this one resembling the map from Treasure Planet. He spins, showing off the look, before grinning* “But the best part is…”

*Xiaojiao takes the camera and the two say it together*

“The King of Hearts!”

*Red poses in a cute nineties red and black dress. On top is a red jacket with black heart buttons. Gold jewelry glints on him, matching his flats. His purse shaped like a red heart. He gives a princess wave with fine black gloves and he smiles like a queen* “Yes, yes, give the only royal one to me.”

*off-camera* “Are you guys done?”

*camera whirls to reveal Wukong perched on DBK’s shoulder. Neither look particularly pleased at the crowd. Iron Fan seems more chill, sipping on a drink*

“Yeah!” *Xiaotian sends a reassuring grin to his mentor* “We’re almost done! We just need to-” *Xiaotian looks around, seeming to realize something* “Where’s Sandy and Huntsman?”

“I…uh…” *Xiaojiao looks around, seeming to realize the same issue* “I don’t know…where’s Bai He-” *something big and blue scoops them up. Xiaojiao screams and the camera goes out of focus. When it does, it reveals Xiaojiao, Xiaotian, and Red are being carried by a frantic Sandy. On his shoulders, a smug Huntsman is adjusting a fancy crown on Bai He’s head* “SANDY?!”

“YEAH WE SHOULD GO BEFORE WE GET THROWN IN DISNEY JAIL-”

“WHY ARE WE GETTING THROWN IN DISNEY JAIL?!”

“JUST RUN!”

*behind them, the camera focuses on a DBK who looks relieved, carrying his wife and former sworn brother, and Mr. and Mrs. Long, dragging the others behind*

*behind them is several security guards*

*the camera jostles and is thrown*

“SHIT MY PHONE-”

*the video goes black*

[dreadlord-mr-son]

Manga idea:

"Destined to be an Isekai Protagonist" Following the adventures of some bland guy in modern Japan and the CONSTANT near-death experiences he barely dodges as Fate tries to kill him off so that he can be reincarnated into the fantasy world.

[obessivedork]

MACCREADY MY SON MAAAACCCCCC 😭😭😭 I knew he was in FO4 and I was still not ready to run into him 😭 🖤🖤

[yumichikah]

"What a shitty excuse..."

[chaseblogger]

I charted the whimsical and yet profoundly sad world of Mr. Me. A person who I happen to relate with quite a lot. It’s also a song by They Might Giants that I very much enjoy.

https://open.substack.com/pub/kissmesonofblog/p/mr-me?r=1xcor&utm_campaign=post&utm_medium=web&showWelcomeOnShare=true

[void-botanist]

that last post made me realize that Keearo 100% imprinted on various potential father figures among the palace staff after arriving there when he was 10, such as:

William Honey, one of Aza and Sheri's handlers, who rebuffed him until he gave up and concluded along with Aza and Sheri that the Honeys were part of the enemy

Emmitt Caraches, one of the royal archivists and possibly the tallest person on staff, who is completely a teddy bear

Tobi Hop, head gardener, who absolutely does not consider himself a father figure but continually acted like one anyway

Hoven Lolimmo, acquisitions and cataloging librarian, who got along splendidly with this kid who liked reading books but was thoroughly useless at helping with anything not directly book-related

[fatestouch]

There's a light humming in the air, a tune that seemed like idly nonsense to some, and something close to a lullaby to others. A dark clad figure in the one that's humming, his hands fiddling with something.

He only pauses when his phone rings.

"Heya, Mama. You actually have great timing; I just finished this job."

"So it seems, since you were able to answer. Though... you did answer a bit quickly. Did you forget to silence your phone again, Jinx~?"

Though the words were teasing, Jinx floundered a bit nonetheless. ""N-no! I mean... it was on, but it's fine! I'm already finished, and no one saw me--"

A pause. And then he tilts his head. And slowly turns his head behind him, bright green eyes locked on the figure behind him.

"...No one saw me before."

"Always pay attention to your surroundings, my dear treasure. Well, it cannot be helped... handle things, hm? Be sure not to attract more attention."

"Yes, Mama."

Hanging up, Jinx stands slowly. "Y'know, most people hear a noise going on in an alley, they usually turn the other way. It's typical human nature, y'know. Staying in your lane and all that."

And then the intruder turns to run, Jinx is suddenly right there in their face. "But then there's the people who wanna get nosy. Sucks that you're one of the latter... sucks for you, anyway."

With an easy little smile, Jinx taps a finger against the intruder's cheek, while a second Jinx is behind them with a knife at their throat.

"My Mama didn't say to hurry back home, so I'll take my time. We're gonna play a game. Let's see what breaks first. Your body, or your mind." And his eyes shift from bright green to glowing violet. "Let's put on a good show of madness for my patron."

[masquenoire]

He remembered it like it was yesterday, eight years old and dragged to yet another stupid party hosted by his parents. Hiding under the table which was covered by an ornate table cloth, it was the perfect place in which to hide away from prying eyes and judgemental gazes of other people. Roman had little interest in talking to any of them, with their fake smiles plastered across their equally fake faces, pretending to like those they were forced to socialize with. His parents were the worst, basking in the attention of their peers like how snakes would bask in the sun. Roman hated them all, scowling from beneath his protective cover. Bored eyes scanned the crowd, looking for those select few people whose company he was able to stomach. Mary wasn't here; he'd have spotted her blonde hair flashing amongst the crowd by now. Similarily there was no Viktor, hiding behind Mr. and Mr's Zsasz's legs. Dark hair caught his attention, and Roman suddenly froze. Bruce Wayne. Roman recognized him instantly, even with his head down as he wandered between the forest of bodies dirtying his family's garden with their presence. How dare he show his face here? Roman's blood boiled, hating every inch of him. His fingers tightened around the knife he’d stolen from the table above, wishing he could give the other boy a sharp poke with it. It wasn’t as though it would be dangerous; the blade was only sharp enough to cut slices of beef and other food that had been dished out to guests, make him squeal and go running back to his mother perhaps. But then Bruce wandered closer, his attention elsewhere and Roman froze, fingers clutching the dinner knife so hard his knuckles turned white. Then Bruce turned in the opposite direction, his mother’s hand suddenly on his shoulder to gently guide her son away. Roman stared from beneath the table as they vanished into the crowd, eyes cold and hard before widening in surprise as he felt himself being yanked to his feet by his hair, his own mother hissing obscenities when she thought nobody else would be able to hear over the din of voices and music all around. It hurt, Roman wincing further as her fingers twisted hard before mercifully letting go, only to slip her mask back on as though nothing had happened. Roman had never hated her more in that moment, Mrs. Sionis suddenly acting every bit the loving mother concerned about her child's disappearance and urging him back into the fray to socialize and play like a good little girl, and to not be a bother again or else. Before the table cover fell, Roman cast a longing gaze back to the knife he’d dropped when his mother had found him, still gleaming on the grass where it had fallen until the waiters would find it later, none the wiser as to how it had gotten there.