#( event. firefly festival )

[nrcissasblack]

When: Firefly Festival Where: Food stalls Who: Narcissa & Lucius @lucimalfoys

Narcissa had surprisingly enjoyed most of the day despite being surrounded by...undesirables. It had been easy enough to block them all out, though, and now she was supposed to meet up with Lucius for dinner. She was quite certain that they wouldn't have anything up to their usual standards but sometimes they had to suffer through a poor meal. It was all a part of their plan, or really Lucius's to make sure people forgot about last year and everything that had happened. Narcissa was simply going along with it.

Spotting her betrothed, thankfully alone, Narcissa glanced down at her outfit and picked at a piece of nonexistent dirt. Lucius hadn't spotted her yet, so she waved her wand and her compact mirror appeared. She glanced in it to make sure she looked out, touched up her lipstick, and then sent her mirror away. Satisfied that she looked perfect, she made her way to Lucius.

"Hello darling," She leaned over and kissed his cheek. "You look nice."

[gerdacurds]

When: Firefly Festival

Where: The Cheese Tent

Who: Greta & Open

Greta hummed softly to herself as she plated up her free samples. Most places give out simple samples of cheese cut into a square with a toothpick in it, which was effective sometimes, but she'd learned people much more frequently purchase her cheese if they know how to prepare it in an appetizing way. Although she was preparing the most simple dish, brie on a toasted baguette with an apple slice, it was easy for even the most simple people, and enticing to know that anyone could prepare it in a simple way. Taking a moment to ensure the tray looked good - the eyes lead straight to the stomach - she smiled to herself, satisfied, and picked up the tray.

Standing at the edge of her tent, Greta put on her largest smile, holding her tray out in front of her. “Free samples!” She called out in her loudest voice, “Fresh brie prepared by yours truly! Free samples!”

[mckns]

When: Firefly Festival Where: On the trail towards the meadow Who: Marlene & @micahmulciber

Marlene stopped in her tracks, a familiar face standing off in the distance. She couldn't quite put her finger on who it was, the only thing she knew for sure was the fact that she knew who they were. She stood, staring, the gears in her brain working overtime as she tried to figure it out. Only their face was familiar, whoever it was had certainly aged since the last time she'd seen them. But who were they? Did she actually know? Should she know?

All of a sudden she found herself face-to-face with them. Apparently as she stared she started walking towards them. Surely she was making them uncomfortable, staring blankly with no explanation. Marlene shook her head before smiling wide. "Your outfit is totally rad!" She exclaimed, "Where did you get your shoes? I love them. Can we trade? I wonder if I'd fit."

[navybrat817]

Rules and Chaos

Pairing: Tattoo Artist!Bucky Barnes x Baker!Female Reader Summary: Your friends are a bad influence when you and Bucky set up booths for a Fall Festival. Word Count: Over 2.3k Warnings: Implied sex, slight humor, slight fluff, tension, teasing, inner monologue, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). Previous Part of AU: Ladies and Gentlemen A/N: Fic #4 for Navy's Trick or Treat Nonsense! Quick visit with Hottie and Sugar and a small mention of Thorn and Rose.❤️ Beta read by the lovely @jobean12-blog (thank you and @whisperlullaby for assuring me this wasn't garbage!), but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics and Bucky edit by the amazing @nixakimbo .Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

“You did this on purpose. I know you did.”

With a small laugh, you finished setting up the last sign in front of your table. You wanted the stand to look perfect. “What exactly did I do, Tess?”

She pointed to the booth beside yours where Bucky and Hal were also in the middle of getting their things set up. “You somehow got them to put us right next to the boys.”

You stole a glance at the “Sin On Skin” booth beside yours, the sign tastefully saying “S.O.S. Tattoo Parlor”. Bucky winked at you when he caught your gaze out of the corner of your eye. A goofy smile appeared on your face before you cleared your throat and got back to work. “You do realize I had absolutely no control over where they placed us since I didn't organize this event.”

The nearby elementary school had put on a Fall Festival over the last few years and the woman Steve started seeing was a teacher there. She thought it would be fun for the guys to do face paintings and temporary tattoos for the kids. It was Bucky who suggested that your shop sell baked goods, after running it by you first. Not only was it good for exposure for you and Tess while helping to raise money for the students, it was an excuse to spend the day a few feet away from your boyfriend.

How could you say no to that?

The only downside was that the weather for tomorrow called for rain. To be on the safe side, the booths were going to be in the gym so that the families could still enjoy some of the festivities if it stormed. No matter what happened, it would be a fun day for everyone.

“Then he did it and now I have to watch you two make eyes at each other between customers tomorrow,” Tess accused, but there was no malice behind her words. You didn’t argue since there was a good chance that you would check Bucky out and vice versa. “And aren’t you two hanging out tonight after we finish up?”

“Yeah. We’re doing a movie night,” you replied. You hadn’t had a chance to do a lot of fall activities with Bucky yet, but he promised that he’d take you on a hayride tomorrow before the event was over. And the two of you were watching scary movies tonight. A perfect excuse for you to snuggle against him.

Which will probably end with him inside me, so well worth the jump and scares.

“I still think he’s the reason why we’re next to each other,” Tess said, checking over the order you put together. You made sure there was a range of Autumn and Halloween colors and everything was back at the shop ready for you to set out the following morning. “Though I shouldn’t complain. You two are cute together and he makes you happy.”

“We are a cute couple,” Bucky said, winking at you again. “And she makes me happy, too.”

You had to smile as your heart skipped a beat. It still felt a bit like a dream that the handsome tattoo artist was your boyfriend, but he was yours. It was silly to think that the season was brighter because you had him around, but he was like the unexpected warmth you sometimes experienced on a cool day when the sun came out. If you told him that, you knew he’d argue that it was the other way around. That you were the one who brightened everything around you.

Bringing out the best in each other is what good couples do.

“Get back to work, Hottie. We’re almost done,” you teased when he walked around his table. Clad in one of his signature Henley's, maroon to likely go with the fall theme, you found yourself staring at his chest as he stopped in front of you. Your eyes snapped to his lips when he tapped them with his finger.

“Gimme a kiss first, Sugar,” he said, his voice as warm as your cheeks felt. “One little kiss. That's all I'm asking for.”

“Fine,” you agreed, moving in close. “One kiss.”

He cupped your jaw as he leaned in and deeply kissed you, instantly making you melt against him as you kissed him back. You smiled as you tried to pull away after a second, his lips eagerly seeking yours as he went in for seconds. You discovered after your first date that one kiss was never enough for your boyfriend. He claimed your sugary lips drugged his system with desire and the only cure was for him to have another taste, which made him crave you and your kisses more.

I crave him, too.

He wrapped a hand around your hip and dragged you closer as you mewled, a sound of need that you tried to stamp out. Arousal seized you as his tongue licked along your mouth. It wasn’t fair that his kisses brought such a strong reaction out of you, especially when there was nothing you could do to satisfy it. At least, not right this second.

I’m not going to wiggle my hips and rub my pussy against his cock. I will maintain some sort of self-control.

“Hey!” Hal grinned as you tore your lips away from Bucky’s, shivering at the slight growl he let out at being interrupted. The sound made you want him more. “You two can’t fool around here. Not unless you’re teaching Sex Ed.”

“Yeah,” Tess chimed in, handing you her phone so you could take photos. Bucky still had a hand on your hip, only allowing you to twist a bit. The possessive touch also had safety behind it, telling you that you had nothing to fear when he was close by. “Behave, you two. This is a school.”

Your jaw dropped before you snapped a few pictures, making sure to capture the entire booth. You’d have to get more in the morning once the treats were set out. “We are professionals. We would never fool around here.”

And, thankfully, no children were nearby to witness you and Bucky kissing each other since it was after hours. You couldn’t wait to see him interact with the kids though. They would adore him and his gentle giant demeanor. The kids would love all of them. Jake’s sister even planned to stop by so his niece could get a face painting done.

“So, you're saying if he dragged you off to a nearby classroom… Oh, come on. Like you didn’t think about it the second you asked for a kiss,” Hal said, shrugging when Bucky shot him a glare and set out a bottle of orange paint that matched the shade of his hair. You wondered if he’d keep it orange for November or if he’d go for a shade of red. “Or maybe you two will roll in the hay during that hayride you keep talking about.”

Bucky didn’t look at all embarrassed, swearing that the boys were used to hearing him moan on and on about you. It was a nice feeling. “Like she said, we’re professionals and we wouldn’t do that,” he argued, raising an eyebrow. “And did you just say ‘roll in the hay’? You sound like Jensen.”

“I’m a country boy at heart. I know all about rolling in the hay,” he smirked, looking over at you when your boyfriend pulled you closer. “Hey. Don’t classrooms have locks?”

“Hal, stop encouraging them,” Tess hissed as he chuckled. It was too late. They planted the seed and you knew Bucky was thinking about it, too. “Though he does have a point. Just go into one of the rooms and lock the door. No one will notice.”

“And there’s still time before we have to get out of here,” Hal added as he checked his watch. “Make it a quickie.”

“Hold on,” you said, handing the phone back to Tess when you realized you were still holding it. “You two are actually encouraging us to find a classroom to fool around in? The night before the event?”

Not that it wouldn’t be fun and a good stress reliever, but-

“It’s no different than you two in the kitchen,” your friend said, pointing at Bucky as your cheeks got hot. “Yeah, I had that counter cleaned twice.”

Bucky turned his head toward you, humor in his eyes as you played innocent. “You told her about that?” he asked, brushing a kiss to your temple. You had to tell her. It was technically her kitchen, too. “How I ate you out so good you almost cried?” he added low enough for only you to hear.

You trembled at the memory, the mere thought of his skilled tongue and fingers making your toes curl in your boots. Before you could open your mouth to say something in your defense, Hal laughed. “And it’s no different than the two of you messing around in the break room. Thought Andy was gonna buy a new couch to replace it.”

It was Bucky’s turn to feign innocence as you gazed at him, gently tugging on his bun as tried not to smile. “You told him about that?”

Earlier in the week, you waited around for him to close the parlor. The two of you chatted on the couch when you didn’t want to leave right away, which led to a heated makeout session. It wasn’t long before he had you in his lap, bouncing you up and down on his cock as he growled filthy praises. How well you took him, how beautiful you looked riding him. It was a feat that you could walk out before he took you home.

Where he wrecked you all over again.

“Steve told him, so everyone knows. Punk can’t keep a secret to save his life,” Bucky said, glancing around where a few others were starting to wrap up. “Look. Messing around in our shops is one thing. We own them. Messing around here is something else.”

“He’s right. And even if we wanted to mess around, I’m pretty sure the security guard or administrators will catch on if we suddenly take a stroll down the halls,” you said before your brow furrowed. “Wait a second. Where’s Steve?” you asked. You hadn’t seen him since he dropped off the table banner.

Hal looked behind him and shrugged. “Wasn’t he helping Rose grab decorations for one of the other displays?”

“It shouldn’t take that long, should it?” your boyfriend asked.

As if on cue, Steve rushed into the gym and came to a stop a foot away from the booth. His cheeks were pinker than usual and his hair was a bit of a mess. “Sorry. Rose was showing me around. She’ll be back in a minute.”

Bucky nodded slowly. “Thought you two were getting decorations.”

“Well, yeah. We did. She has them,” he said quickly.

“Stevie?”

“Yeah?”

“Check your fly,” Bucky said, nodding to his crotch.

Hal laughed so hard he almost fell over as Steve fixed his pants, you and Tess covering your mouths to not draw more attention as you giggled. “See? If Stevie can have fun in a classroom, so can you.”

The blonde looked slightly offended by the assumption. “We were not in a classroom,” he stated as you all stared in disbelief. It only took a moment for him to smile. “We were in an office. That’s completely different.”

You shared a look with Bucky, practically seeing the lightbulb turn on over his head. “An office?” he repeated.

Steve nodded, pointing to one of the gym doors. “Yeah, the principal's office is that way and the nurse’s office,” he said, smirking when he realized why his best friend was asking. “You’re worse than I am, you know that?”

“Worse than what?” a kind voice rang out, Steve's girlfriend gracefully walking over with a small box in hand. He took it from her hands immediately, like it was too heavy for her.

“Buck was wanting to, um, 'visit' one of the offices,” he replied.

Rose kept a neutral look on her face as she looked at you two. “So he told you,” she said carefully.

The poor guy really can't keep a secret.

“More like his open fly told us,” Hal chuckled, holding up his hands when Steve took a step toward him.

Rose placed a hand on his arm, stopping him in his tracks. “I normally wouldn't encourage this, but since Steve let the cat out of the bag,” she said, smiling when he gave her a lopsided grin. “The teacher's lounge should still be unlocked, but only for a few more minutes and I can't help you if anyone walks in. You're on your own. Got it?”

“Got it,” Bucky chuckled, leaning in close to breathe against your ear. “What do you say, Sugar? Think we can sneak in there? Have a bit of fun before our movie night? Break a few rules?”

The thought had you squeezing your thighs together in anticipation. “Thought you wanted one kiss before you got back to work. Not a quickie.”

“Let’s live dangerously,” he smiled.

Your breath hitched, something in your mind telling you to go along with the crazy idea. It wouldn’t hurt anyone. The two of you would clean up any mess you’d make once you were done. And if Rose, who worked here, had fun with Steve, would it be so wrong for you to do the same?

“You’re a bad influence,” you smiled back as he tugged you by the hand toward the door. “All of you!” you added when Tess laughed and Hal whistled.

But it’s good to be bad now and again, especially with the right partner by my side.

So, did Bucky fuck you against the door, the vending machine, or on a table? Love and thanks for reading! 🧡

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[baldurs-beach]

`✵•.¸,✵°✵.｡.Event Intro .｡.✵°✵,¸.•✵´

Welcome to the Baldur's Gate 3 Summer Creativity Event.

The idea is to bring the community together to create works around a summer theme!

FAQ: How does it work? Create a work (art, writing, embroidery, song, anything) based on Baldur's Gate 3 with a summer theme. This blog will share them through the summer. (June through August)

Do I have to follow certain prompts: A list of prompts is below, but fitting in one of them isn't required, as long your work is appropriately summer themes.

How will you share the works? Either @ the blog or submit your post! There will also be an AO3 collection (coming soon). Please don't just tag with a hash tag because that will be very hard to share.

Are there any ratings guide lines? Nope! Just tag appropriately please!

Who can participate? Anyone 18+ since there is not interest in policing who submits what content.

Who's running this thing? Just me, @tragedybunny

Anything else? Please share so lots of people can participate.

AO3 Collection is live!

Prompt list:

Ocean / waves 

Sun / Sunburn

Heat / Humidity

Beach / Sand / Sandcastles /Sea glass

Ice cream

Sunsets

Calimshan and Amn

The Sea of Fallen Stars (pirate region on forgotten realms)

Festival / County Fair

Summer flowers / night blooming flowers 

Beach Party

BBQ

Travel

Bonfire / campfire stories

Swimming/ water / first time swimming in the ocean

Fireflies

Summer storms

Fruits / summer harvest / summer refreshments

Mosquitoes

Boats / sailing

Surfing 

Snorkeling / Scuba diving

Camping (for fun this time)

Summer Love

Dividers by @ / saradika-graphics

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

𓅨 Sleepy Bitch Syndrome: Chapter Seven

Sleepy Bitch Syndrome: You've got narcolepsy and have been visiting the Dreaming daily for years. Then its Lord and King finally return and he doesn't know quite what to think of you.

Warnings: None.

To Note: Morpheus/Dream x Narcoleptic!Reader, for you dear @aralezinspace.

Word Count: ~2.9k

Previous | Masterlist | Next

As you stand at the edge of the lake, Morpheus' words echo in your mind. The peacefulness of the scene is interrupted by a gentle tug at your consciousness. The next moment, you find yourself back in the palace, surrounded by bustling staff.

They flutter around you, their excitement palpable. You catch snippets of their conversation as they work, their voices light and musical. A celebration. Dressing up. Well if they were so excited you’d go along with them!

"The celebration day in the market! It's always such a grand event."

"And we finally have someone to prepare for it!"

You can’t help but smile at their enthusiasm. One of them—a young woman with bright eyes and quick hands—gently guides you to a chair. She gestures for you to sit, her face alight with joy.

"We have something special for you," she says, her tone full of anticipation.

Another staff member brings out a dress unlike any you've ever seen. It's woven from stars and galaxies, the fabric shimmering and shifting as if alive. You reach out to touch it, feeling the cool, silky texture under your fingers.

"It's beautiful," you whisper, awe-struck.

The young woman beams at you. "It was crafted especially for this occasion. We thought it fitting for someone so unique."

They help you into the dress with practiced ease, each movement precise and gentle. As they fasten the last clasp, you catch a glimpse of yourself in a nearby mirror. The dress hugs your form perfectly, the celestial patterns swirling around you in an enchanting dance.

"How do I look?" you ask, turning to face them.

The staff step back to admire their work, their faces lighting up with pride.

"Like a dream," one of them says softly.

Another staff member approaches with a delicate tiara adorned with tiny stars that twinkle softly. You wanted to tell them that it was a little overboard, but they were so excited to tend to you, you didn't have the heart to say no. They place it gently on your head, adjusting it until it's just right.

"There," they say, stepping back once more. "Now you're ready."

The palace staff usher you outside, their excitement bubbling over. The bridge connecting the palace to the town is lined with lanterns that glow like captured fireflies, casting a warm, inviting light. You hurry across, eager to experience your first festival in the Dreaming. As you step into the market square, the air buzzes with life. Stalls stretch as far as you can see, each more fantastical than the last.

To your left, a vendor sells bottles filled with dreams. The glass containers shimmer with colors that shift and swirl, reflecting scenes of soaring through clouds or swimming with bioluminescent creatures in deep oceans. You watch as a child selects a bottle, her eyes wide with wonder. She uncorks it and is instantly enveloped in a soft, radiant glow.

"Best dreams in the land," the vendor boasts, his grin as wide as the sky.

Next to him, another stall offers nightmares. Unlike the dreams, these bottles are dark and opaque, their contents hidden from view. A hooded figure examines one carefully before nodding and exchanging coins for it.

"Why would anyone want a nightmare?" you wonder aloud.

The vendor catches your eye and smiles knowingly. "Not all nightmares are bad. Some teach us valuable lessons."

You continue down the row, drawn by the rich scent of exotic spices from a nearby stall. The vendor there waves you over enthusiastically.

"Try this," he urges, handing you a small pouch filled with vibrant red powder. "It's made from the dreams of ancient warriors."

You take a pinch and sprinkle it on your tongue. A rush of heat floods your senses, followed by visions of epic battles and heroic feats. Your heart races with adrenaline and you hand itches to snatch a blade from your waist and toy with it. A blade which you do not have.

"Impressive," you manage to say, breathless, looking down to double check that you indeed, do not have a sword or dagger hanging from the skirt of your dress.

Further along, a group of musicians plays instruments crafted from moonbeams and stardust. Their melodies weave through the air, enchanting everyone who hears them. You pause to listen, feeling the music resonate deep within your soul.

A little further down the path, an artist paints canvases with scenes from people’s dreams. Each brushstroke seems to bring the image to life—trees that sway in an unseen breeze, rivers that shimmer like liquid silver. You watch in awe as she transforms a blank canvas into a vivid dreamscape.

"Would you like me to paint yours?" she asks without looking up from her work.

You consider it for a moment before shaking your head gently. You didn't quite feel like yourself and didn't want a portrait to reflect that. "Not today."

She nods in understanding and continues painting.

As you wander through the market, you realize that every vendor offers not just goods but experiences—each one unique and deeply personal. You are so glad you decided to come. To think you might have missed this! The air hums with magic and possibility, making it clear why this celebration is so beloved by all who attend.

As you stroll through the bustling market, you catch a whiff of something sweet and buttery. Your stomach rumbles in response, reminding you that you haven't eaten since arriving in the Dreaming. Following the tantalizing aroma, you find a stall adorned with golden pastries. Each one sparkles as if dusted with tiny flecks of sunlight.

"Care to try one?" a gravelly voice asks.

You turn to see Mervyn standing behind the counter. His eyes crinkle at the corners as he smiles, a rare sight for someone usually so stern.

"Don't mind if I do," you reply, reaching for a pastry.

Mervyn chuckles and hands it to you with a flourish. "Golden flour, harvested from the fields of dawn. Best you'll ever taste."

You take a bite and your taste buds sing in delight. The pastry is warm and flaky, with a hint of honey that lingers on your tongue. Mervyn watches you with amusement as you savor each bite.

"Good, huh?" he asks, leaning against the counter.

"Better than good," you say between mouthfuls. Did golden flour actually have gold in it? The glimmering flecks were suspicious enough but the treat tasted so good! "Heavenly."

He grabs another pastry and breaks it in half, offering you one piece. You accept it gratefully, and proceed to gobble it down. As you finish the last crumb, something catches your eye. Across the square, half-hidden in shadow, stands Morpheus. His dark jacket billows slightly in the breeze, and his piercing eyes scan the crowd with an intensity that makes your breath catch.

Mervyn follows your gaze and grunts. "Always watching, never joining."

You nod absently, unable to tear your eyes away from Morpheus. He moves with an almost ethereal grace, slipping through the throng without drawing attention. For a moment, his gaze locks onto yours, and a shiver runs down your spine.

"He's got his reasons," Mervyn continues, pulling your attention back to him. "Always does." But is that not lonely?

You decide to go over to Morpheus and say hello so he isn't alone. Leaving the warmth of Mervyn's side, you weave through the crowd, each step bringing you closer to the Dream Lord that has occupied your thoughts since you have met him.

As you approach, Morpheus turns his head slightly, acknowledging your presence with a subtle nod. His eyes, dark as the night sky, hold a depth that makes you feel both seen and understood in ways words could never capture.

"Enjoying the festival?" he asks, his voice smooth and velvety, resonating with an otherworldly quality. His eyes drink in your figure, lingering on the dress you wear for the evening—a flowing, ethereal gown that seems to shimmer with the light of a thousand stars. His stars look so beautiful wrapped around your body.

You smile, feeling a pleasant warmth spread through you under his gaze. "I am. It’s beautiful, Morpheus. You’ve truly outdone yourself."

He steps closer, the space between you shrinking, his presence both magnetic and overwhelming. "Not as beautiful as you," he replies softly, his eyes tracing the lines of your dress. "The gown suits you exquisitely."

A rush of heat rises to your cheeks, the compliment making your heart flutter. "Thank you," you say, your voice a bit breathless. "It’s an honor to be here, to see the Dreaming like this. And this dress, I've never worn anything like it before, it's incredible," you reply, feeling a flutter in your chest. "But I noticed you standing here alone. Thought I'd keep you company."

A small smile tugs at the corner of the corner of his lips. "Your presence is appreciated."

You feel a flutter in your chest as his gaze lingers on yours, the intensity of his eyes making you feel like you're the only person in the crowded market square. His smile, though subtle, holds a hint of warmth that draws you in.

"Tell me more about this festival," you ask, curiosity getting the better of you. "What's its significance in the Dreaming?"

Morpheus' eyes light up, and he leans in, his voice taking on a narrative quality. "The Festival of Dreams is a celebration of the Dreaming's power. It's a time when the veil between reality and the Dreaming is at its thinnest, allowing us to tap into the deepest desires of those who sleep."

As he speaks, his words paint vivid pictures in your mind. You can almost see the threads of the Dreaming weaving together, connecting the sleepers to the world of the awake. A shame they won't remember when they will wake.

"The festival has been celebrated for eons," Morpheus continues, his voice weaving a spell around you. "When my realm is at it's most powerful and dynamic."

You are captivated as Morpheus shares stories of the festivals that came before, at least when he was present. His fervor for his realm is contagious, and you feel yourself caught up in his excitement. A ruler that truly cared about his people, his realm.

As the night wears on, Morpheus glances up at the sky, his eyes locking onto something beyond the lanterns. "Come," he says, his voice low and husky. "I want to show you something."

He offer's you his hand, and that makes your stomach flutter. It wasn't like you were anything special, just a narcoleptic dream walker.

Morpheus leads you away from the bustling festival, weaving through the crowd with a graceful confidence that only an Endless could possess. You follow closely, your heart racing with excitement and anticipation as you venture further into the realm.

The further you travel from the market square, the more the noise of the festival fades away, replaced by a silence that feels almost reverent. The only sound is the soft swish of your dress and Morpheus's footsteps as he guides you to an open field, where the stars above are reflected in the dewdrops on the grass. You are more than surprised that your heels have yet to cause you pain or discomfort.

"This way," he whispers, gesturing up at the sky.

Your eyes follow, and you gasp in awe as you take in the breathtaking sight before you. The sky above is ablaze with cosmic forces, nebulae and planets breaking apart and reforming in a dance as old as time itself. Well, almost, Father Time predated the cosmos, only just. The colors are unlike anything you've ever seen, shades of indigo and violet mingling with the warm hues of red and gold, casting an ethereal glow over the field.

Morpheus steps closer, his presence both magnetic and overwhelming. A true dichotomy. “This is the true power of the my realm," he murmurs, his voice barely audible above the rustling of the leaves in the wind. "The forces that shape our world, and the worlds of those who sleep. Ever changing and remolding itself to the whims of humanity, much like sand.

You find yourself lost in the beauty of the cosmos, your heart pounding in your chest as you take it all in. Morpheus stands beside you, his gaze fixed on the sky. You can feel his warmth against your side, and the air between you seems to crackle with tension.

"You have a unique perspective," he says softly, his voice sending shivers down your spine. "Most never get to see this world as it truly is."

His words hang heavy in the air, and you can't help but wonder what he means by "unique perspective." Is it because of your ability to walk between dreams? Or that you are mortal? Or is there something else?

Morpheus turns to face you, his eyes locking onto yours. "I am eternally grateful for what you did," he says, his voice low and husky. "When I could not help my people, you stepped in and saved them."

Your heart races at his words, and you feel a flush creeping up your neck. You had only been trying to help them; you never expected him to be so grateful. But there's something else in his eyes—something that makes your stomach flutter and your pulse quicken. Is it admiration? Or something more?

"Thank you," you manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper. "I just wanted to help."

Morpheus takes a step closer, his gaze never leaving yours. "There's more to it than that," he says softly. "You have a connection to this realm—a connection that goes beyond mere dreams."

Your heart skips a beat as he speaks, and you can't help but wonder what he means by that. Do you truly belong here—in the Dreaming—more than in the waking world? And if so, what does that mean for your future?

Morpheus reaches out and gently cups your cheek in his hand, his thumb tracing the line of your jawline. You feel a jolt of electricity pass between you as his fingers brush against your skin, and for a moment, everything else fades away except for the two of you standing beneath the stars above.

"You are special," he whispers, his breath warm against your skin. "And I want to show you just how special you are."

His words makes your stomach flip as he leans closer—so close that your lips are almost touching—and for a moment, everything else fades away except for the two of you beneath the cosmic dance above. Soft stardust shimmering down like a drizzle of rain. But before your lips can meet, Morpheus pulls back suddenly, leaving you breathless and confused. What the hell just happened? Had you really been about to kiss an Endless??

You wake up in bed for once.

Your heart pounds in your chest as you sit up, gasping for breath. The room around you is dimly lit, the only light coming from the soft glow of the moon through your window. Your fingers tremble as you reach up to touch your cheek, half-expecting to feel Morpheus' lingering touch.

But you're alone, in your bed, back in the waking world.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. The dream felt so real, so vivid. You can still feel the electric charge of Morpheus' presence, the warmth of his hand on your cheek. The memory sends a shiver down your spine.

You swing your legs over the side of the bed and stand up, needing to shake off the remnants of the dream. Your room feels strangely empty, as if a piece of it is missing now that you're awake. You walk to the window and look out at the quiet street below, your mind still buzzing with the images of the festival and the cosmic dance in the sky.

As you gaze out at the night, you hear a soft rustling behind you. You turn quickly, half-expecting to see Morpheus standing there. But there's no one. Just your room, filled with shadows and moonlight.

You let out a sigh and run a hand through your hair. "Get a grip," you mutter to yourself. "you're narcoleptic not a hopeless romantic, it was just a dream."

Okay maybe you are a hopeless romantic….

But deep down, you know it was more than that. You've always had a connection to the Dreaming—a connection that feels stronger now than ever before. And Morpheus' words linger in your mind: "You are special."

You close your eyes and take another deep breath, trying to center yourself. When you open them again, you notice something on your nightstand—a small vial filled with shimmering dust. You pick it up carefully, turning it over in your hand.

"Stardust," you whisper, recognizing it from the festival.

How did it get here? Did Morpheus leave it for you? Or is this another trick of the Dreaming?

Your fingers tighten around the vial as a sense of determination fills you. If there's one thing you've learned from your journeys through dreams, it's that nothing happens by chance. Everything has meaning. Always.

You place the vial back on your nightstand and climb back into bed, pulling the covers up around you. As you close your eyes, you make a silent promise to yourself: you'll chase after whatever this is, regardless of your narcolepsy. Sleep comes quickly this time, pulling you back into its embrace like an old friend. And it is. The stars above twinkle softly as if whispering secrets just for you.

Date Published: 8/21/24

Last Edit: 8/21/24

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[late-to-the-party-81]

Red Carpet Ready

AN: So when all the pictures and gifs from the Berlinale festival started to come out over the last week a lot of the folk on the BBE server went, shall we say, feral. When this particular gif appeared, @mrs-illyrian-baby, @buckyismybicycle and I started to have thots. Thots about a cool, calm collected movie star Bucky leaving a very wrung out reader melted in the back of the limo as he strode out onto the red carpet. And this was born.

Not beta’d.

Likes are loved, reblogs are golden.

Mood board by me and dividers by @firefly-graphics

Master list 

Summary: You love your job as Bucky’s PA. You love him even more, even if he doesn’t know it. On your way to an awards ceremony he appears more nervous than usual and thanks to a traffic jam you find the best way to get him out of his head.

Relationship: Movie Star Bucky Barnes x PA Fem Reader

Word count: 3k

CW: AU - Modern Day, Anxious Bucky, Pining, Power Imbalance, Explicit Sexual Content (Oral - M receiving, Vaginal fingering), Bucky’s A+ Dirty Talk, Implied future spicy time, effectively PWP.

You lurched in your seat as the limo braked. Luckily it hadn’t been going fast, but it was enough to fracture your concentration. You looked up from your checklist towards the other occupant of the back seat, your boss, the famous movie-star Bucky Barnes.

You’d been his PA for several years now, acting as a go-between him and his manager, getting him booked into hotels under pseudonyms, liaising with his media team and his stylist, fetching coffees and a hundred and one other things. Luckily, he was a lovely man to work for, polite and respectful, but, unfortunately for you, he was absolutely drop-dead gorgeous. You remembered when you first got the job - you’d spent most of your days refusing to actually speak unless necessary, lest you embarrass yourself by letting slip your not safe for work inner thoughts. However, as time had passed you’d not only relaxed, but also been able to get to know the man behind the mask, meaning that you and Bucky now had an easy friendship. It was based on mutual respect and shared memories, and you treasured it intensely. Your friends wondered why you stayed in a job that left you with no real base, flitting around the world for shoots, premieres and interviews. You told them that it suited you. You didn’t tell them that it was because you were in love with your employer.

Bucky looked nervous and ran his hands through his shaggy hair. He didn’t often wear it that long, but he was growing it out for a part, more willing to do that than have to put up with a stifling wig on top of what was bound to be an equally stifling costume. His left knee jiggled,  letting you know his anxiety was on the rise. 

Tonight he was attending an awards ceremony, one in which he’d been nominated for the Best Actor category. That in itself wasn’t that strange, he’d been nominated several times over the last few years, but this time was different, this time there was a high chance he would actually win. Such a thing was utterly deserved in your biassed opinion, but Bucky had been the runner-up so many times before and his nerves were starting to get the better of him. 

Realising you’d been staring at him for too long, you looked back down at your checklist and cleared your throat.

“You’re being seated next to Yelena, as she’s your co-star in the next movie, so at least you’ll be with someone you know.”

Bucky grunted and turned his head to look out of the tinted windows as the lights of L.A. moved passed at a much slower pace than you would have liked. The traffic was to be expected really, the great and good of Hollywood, plus all their fans, out in force for tonight’s event. It would have been more surprising if the roads hadn’t been blocked.

With a sigh you put down your clipboard and reached out to place your hand on Bucky’s knee to grab his attention.

“You’ll be fine, you know,” you soothed. “You’ve got your acceptance speech in your jacket pocket still, haven’t you?” You watched as he patted his hand against his chest, checking for the folded paper housed in the inside pocket of his black jacket and gave you a small nod in confirmation. He wore a navy blue shirt under the black suit and had foregone a tie. In your opinion - and you had a lot of those about Bucky - he looked stunning. 

He was also uncharacteristically quiet.

You wracked your brains, trying to think of a way to get him out of his head. From the corner of your eye you saw him push his finger down the collar of his shirt and give it a tug. You clucked your tongue and rolled your eyes and leant forward in your seat, both hands outstretched towards the offending fabric.

“Let’s just undo that for a moment. We’ve got time, and you’ve got me here to make sure you look presentable.”

He chuckled at that, and your heart soared. Your fingers made quick work of the top two buttons of his shirt and Bucky let out a deep sigh in appreciation.

“Thanks, Doll. Don’t know what I’d do without you.” His voice was rough from staying quiet for so long, his vocal cords stiff.

Your lips turned up at the edges. “I’m sure you would have thought of it yourself, or found another way to get rid of your nerves.”

His eyes, stormy grey-blue, flicked up to yours just then, the intensity of his gaze pinning you in place. There was a feeling, nebulous and just out of reach, that you could almost identify brewing between you. Moments like this had occurred a handful of times over the last few months, coinciding with Bucky getting over his last heartbreak. His previous girlfriend had been… alright - it wasn’t any of your business of course and you definitely hadn’t stalked her socials whatsoever - but it hadn’t surprised you when they’d called it a day.  However, once he’d started to get back on level footing, you’d noticed him watching you more, and you weren’t sure how you felt about that.

First of all, you couldn’t be sure that you weren’t actually imagining it. You’d been in love with him for so long it wouldn’t surprise you if your brain had started to make you hallucinate.

Secondly, even if Bucky was watching you more, it didn’t necessarily mean anything. Maybe he was just making sure you were alright and weren’t being harassed by any of the pricks that tended to inhabit the movie scene. 

However, if it was what your brain was telling you it was, where did that leave you? He was your boss - okay, technically his manager was, but po-tay-to, po-ta-to - and a famous movie star to boot. It was a recipe for disaster if ever there was one, even if your heart, and other parts of you, were begging for it.

“Hmm,” Bucky pondered, amusement peppering his voice. “Other ways to destress. I wonder what you could mean, Doll.”  

You giggled at his unsubtle innuendo and playfully smacked his arm. “Behave, Mr Barnes!”

He laughed back and rolled his eyes. “Now I’m in trouble. You brought out the big guns. Making me turn around and look for my father.”

You continued to laugh, but suddenly the limo breaked again, much harder than last time, and you practically flew out of your front facing seat to land on your knees on the carpeted floor.

“Shit!” Bucky exclaimed, and his hands clamped around the tops of your arms, steadying you. “Are you okay?”

You shook your head to clear it and looked up, ready to confirm that you were, when your mouth went dry. Bucky loomed over you and his thick thighs bracketed you where you were kneeling on the floor of the limo between his legs. In the space of a breath his eyes, his expression morphed from one of concern to something darker, and more primal. When you heard him mutter “Fuck” under his breath, you knew that your brain had not been deceiving you over the past months. 

Bucky wanted you.

And although your mouth was still dry, your panties were having the opposite problem.

His gaze, dark and dangerous, pinned you in place, like a butterfly on a collectors board. You made no attempt to get up - you didn’t think you’d be able to even if you did want to - and that decision told Bucky everything he needed to know. Gone was the nervous wreck of a few minutes ago and in his place was a lust filled, domineering man. A hunter with his prey in sight.

He let go of you with his left hand and trailed his knuckles down your cheek. You couldn’t help it when your eyes fluttered closed at the sensation.

“I think I’m still a bit stressed, Doll. You got any ideas on how you can personally assist me with that?”

You nodded and swallowed thickly, your hands coming up to grip his suit clad thighs. You felt them tense under your grip and images of you straddling one, rubbing your slick core against the toned muscle filled your head, making your moan. He let out a deep chuckle that vibrated through his whole body.

“I’d love to know what images you’ve conjured in your head, sweetheart, and maybe I’ll persuade you to tell me later on, but we don’t have much time.” He popped open the four buttons on his jacket, revealing to you the tenting in his suit pants. 

You shouldn’t be doing this, but you couldn’t stop yourself. You knew what was in there. Had been on set with him enough times in various states of dress and undress - even though you always tried to avert your eyes - to be fairly well informed, but this was the closest you’d ever been. Like a moth to a flame, your hands slid up his legs until they were gripping his hips. You looked up at him again, and he just stared back, expectantly. 

Fuck. You’d never been so turned on in your life, and he hadn’t even touched you. 

Carefully you unbuckled his belt, but your hands still brushed over his clothed erection which twitched under your accidental touch. You pulled down his zipper and Bucky shifted himself so that you could peel his pants part way down his thighs.

There was a dark, damp spot on his grey boxer briefs and they clung to his body, outlining the shape and size of him. You licked your lips without thinking, and drew the lower one in between your teeth.

Were you really about to suck Bucky’s cock in the back of the limo? You were glad that the privacy screen had gone up straight away, to give you time to get Bucky ready for the red carpet, although the you of twenty minutes ago had in no way envisioned this scenario ever happening outside of your private imaginings.

Bucky took hold of your right hand and laid it over his bulge and you couldn’t help but give him a gentle squeeze through his briefs. He inhaled sharply through his nose and his eyes fluttered briefly, before they were back on you, somehow darker than before. You felt emboldened, the fact you held power over his desire making you dizzy, and you let go of him so you could pull down the waistband of his underwear and get your first, up close look at Bucky’s cock.

For a moment you were worried your arousal would spill over your panties and leave a wet spot on the carpet between your knees as you took him in with your gaze. He was everything you’d ever imagined from your brief glances and you barely hesitated before you wrapped your hand around the firm warmth of him and took his tip between your lips. 

You were aware of several things at once - the clean, musky scent and taste of him, as well as the salacious noise that left his lips at your first, tentative caress. You also heard a thud and cast your eyes upwards to see that Bucky had let his head fall back against the privacy screen. You should have been worried about what the driver may be thinking, but in reality, you didn’t care. All that mattered was Bucky.

You explored him with your fingers, lips and tongue, revelling in the groans, grunts and whispered mumblings that fell from his lips. His right hand still held your upper arm, but his left came up to gently cup the back of your head, not forcing you down, but just adding another connection between the two of you.

You bobbed your head and took him as deep as you could, your throat swallowing around his length until spots appeared in front of your eyes and you had to draw back.

“Jeez, Doll. Fuck! How did I not see what was right under my nose for all those years? Coulda been doing this sooner. Coulda had you writhing in my bed, creaming on me like you’re probably creaming those panties of yours right now.”

You hummed your agreement and tongued his slit, before tracing down his frenulum and around the underside of his head.

“Whatever happens this evening, you’re mine tonight. Gonna treat you right, Doll. Gonna fuck you until you don’t know your own name any more, only mine. And if I win? Shit. Might need an extra day and night in the hotel. God. I’m close, sweetheart. You gonna swallow it all? Can’t spill a drop on my suit. Can’t have me go out there with cum on my pants.”

You swallowed him down deep again, flattening your tongue against the ridgid length of him, and reached down with your hand to massage his tightening balls. Bucky’s hips started to jerk, so taken over by his desires that he was unable to hold back from fucking your mouth, at least a little bit.

“That’s it. Take it. Take it. Such a good girl. Every drop. Every. Fucking. Drop.” He came with a guttural groan, his cum filling your mouth as you struggled to swallow it. Even when his orgasm finally stopped, you continued to lick and kiss his cock as it softened, intending to clean it as best you could. In the end, Bucky had to ease you away, and you realised you were probably overstimulating him. He didn’t leave you disappointed for long, though. Easily manhandling you back onto your seat, it was then his turn to kneel in front of you.

“Fucking perfect, sweetheart.” His hands skimmed up your thighs, sliding under your, entirely sensible, black shift dress. The thumb of his right hand brushed over the front of your panties and your throbbing clit, making you whine and twitch.

“You are soaked,” he drawled. “Good fucking girl.”

Bucky leaned into your space and his lips captured yours in a searing kiss, his tongue demanding immediate entry and no-doubt tasting himself as he did so. At the same time, the fingers of his right hand slipped under your panties, and slid through your sodden folds. His kiss swallowed your cries as he toyed with your clit, the sensation almost bordering on too much. 

Then he slid a finger inside you.

You felt Bucky smile into the kiss at your reaction, your pussy clenching down on his intrusion.

“Such a greedy pussy,” he muttered before adding a second. “I got you, Doll. Can’t wait to get my cock in you.”

Your only response was another moan and another clench around his invading digits. When he changed the angle of his fingers, you ripped your lips from his as you threw your head back.

“There it is. Look at me, sweetheart. Want you to look at me when you come.” Bucky’s voice was deep and commanding and you wouldn’t have been able to disobey him, even if you’d had the presence of mind to do so. You meet his gaze from under heavy lids as his fingers and thumb continued to drive you upwards assisted by Bucky’s voice which only ever spoken to you like this in your deepest fantasies.

“That’s it, Doll. Need you to come for me. Need to know how hard you’re gonna strangle my cock later. Need to know how beautiful you look when you come. Gonna be smelling your pussy on my fingers all evening. Hell, if I win I’ll hold that statue with this hand and get you all over it. Fuck! Do it now, sweetheart. Come now.”

Your whole body spasmed as you came, your hands gripping Bucky’s right forearm to hold him still. Up was down and down was up as the world span before your eyes at the intensity of your orgasm. Eventually though, reality had to set back in and Bucky pulled his hand from the clutch of your body.

“Bucky!” You keened, your body still sensitive, but protesting at emptiness nonetheless.

“Later, Doll,” he placated at your disappointed whine. “I meant it. This isn’t over by a long shot. I’ll see you after the ceremony. I’m ready for that red carpet now and it’s all thanks to you.” He sucked on his fingers, grinning as he did so then leaned forward and dropped a soft, almost chaste kiss to your lips.

You blinked owlishly at him, your brain still trying to process what had just happened while you clit pulsed between your folds. Bucky smiled, pulling your dress down before putting his own clothes to rights, including the top buttons of his shirt. The limo jerked to a halt a few moments later, but this time it wasn’t due to a traffic jam, but because it had pulled up right by the venue.

With a much more relaxed demeanor that when the limo had set off, Bucky alighted when the driver opened his door. It wasn’t until you watched back the footage, much later in his hotel room, that you could see that Bucky was re-buttoning his jacket as he walked up the red-carpet, a smug look plastered onto his face. Most people thought the expression was related to his nomination, but you knew better.

What you did agree with the general public on though, was the delight on Bucky’s face when his name was read out as the winner of the leading actor category. You were watching from the sides, having ridden in the limo around to the back of the venue, having used the few extra minutes to put your scrambled brain back together. You stood with the other PAs, managers and media secretaries of the main nominees, all of you with your fingers crossed. 

But while everyone else in the hall whistled and cheered when Bucky made his way to the stage for his acceptance speech, you were on your phone, quickly altering his hotel booking to include an extra night. He had promised after all.

Tag list: @christywrites, @alexakeyloveloki, @wolfsmom1, @doasyoudesireandlive, @sonatabee-blog, @goldylions, @galactusdevourerofworlds, @apenny4thots, @crayongirl-linz, @km-ffluv, @wheezy-stucky, @kmc1989

[strwbmei]

Matchup Event

Matchup for: @dukemira

Matchups: Fu Hua, Firefly, March 7th

Contains: fluff, nsfw, creampie, mentions of bondage, mentions of choking, mentions of temperature play, soft sex, public sex, mentions of nipple play

A/N: Sorry for taking so long! Honestly, with Firefly's section, I have no idea how to bake so I apologize if anything is incorrect!

Ask: Long time no see I guess? Haha, anyway it's been a while and you look good, also congratulations for your 1000 followers! Okay I'll start. I will use Mira as the name, my mbti is INFJ, and my zodiac is Virgo. I'm a listener type person, I'm not speaking that much, unless the topic is interesting (or I like the topic) for me, I'll ramble so much. Many people see me as a stoic person, like I don't really care what happened later, or right now Even if it gets me in trouble. You could say I'm a hardworking person, I'll try everything to achieve what I want. If you don't mind, I would like to choose both. My first date scenario? Maybe we watch stars and aurora while drinking hot coffee and some snack (I like quiet place, irl I always go out at night like pm and go home at 3 in the morning lmao) it's just, so refreshing y'know? I'm indeed a dominant, and more into vanilla sex, soft, gentle. (Sometimes I wanna tie them up, and close their vision) (pls don't match me with male characters) The fandom Im in, honkai impact and honkai star rail.

Fu Hua

╰┈➤ SFW ;

: ̗̀➛ Like you, Fu Hua often takes late-night walks to clear her mind. The day she decided to take a different route for a change of scenery, she had no idea that this choice would end up affecting the rest of her life.

: ̗̀➛ It all starts off as the both of you passing each other on a quiet, isolated street; things like you glancing at the woman the first time you saw her because of how rare it is to see someone else around these hours. The most you'd get were stray animals and the occasional taxis, and you liked it that way.

: ̗̀➛ Your overly carefree attitude towards life and Fu Hua's overly cautious and apprehensive nature perfectly balance each other out like yin and yang. Not one is greater or worse than the other; both are inseparable as are the sorrows and joys of living that you'd gladly experience with each other.

: ̗̀➛ Change is a fearsome thing. All of the insignificant differences come together until eventually, you realize that your surroundings have already changed beyond recognition. Fu Hua firmly believes in this, and yet, it was the same change that brought her to meet you. As such, you're also the one to introduce her to new things. It takes her a bit of coaxing, but she's willing to try anything as long you're with her.

: ̗̀➛ Generally speaking, the two of you have so many similarities and just as many differences. Somehow, though, you make it work. Not because you just happen to be the right person for each other, but because you want to make it right.

"Fu Hua?" Your voice breaks Fu Hua's train of thought. She'd been gazing up at the sky for a while now, reminiscing about the past as she does so. It's not something she particularly chooses to do the first dusk of every new year, but she always ends up doing it nonetheless.

"Ah, you're awake. Did I wake you when I got up from bed?" She turns to you with a somber yet warm smile on her face. Her gaze goes down to the two cups of hot chocolate in your hands and mutters a small "thank you" as she takes one of them. You shake your head in response to her question. "Mm. I just got a bit worried when I woke up and you weren't beside me."

"What are you thinking about?" You ask before taking a quick sip of your drink. The dark and rich taste is perfect for calm, quiet mornings like this. Last night was filled with celebrations and festivities, and now that they're done, the city has fallen asleep. The sun peeks out through the horizon to greet the start of the new year.

"It's nothing important. It always amazes me how quickly time can pass and bring change." Her gaze falls down onto the jewelry shop at the corner of the road. It used to be a small diner run by a nice elderly couple. They had a dog; a small Australian terrier named Winter. Ironically enough, Winter did not like the cold. She wonders where they are now and how they're doing.

The two of you sit in comfortable silence, the sunlight illuminating the unlit city. Fu Hua smiles at the sound of the dogs barking; it's the one thing that has stayed constant throughout all these years. She hopes spending mornings with you like this will become one of those things as well. "Happy New Year, my love."

╰┈➤ NSFW ;

: ̗̀➛ Very vanilla and traditional so Fu Hua thinks she should always be submissive, at least at first. She's open to trying out new things in bed. We all know that she'd be submissive regardless of her old fashioned mindset, though.

: ̗̀➛ Fu Hua is open-minded when it comes to kinks, so she's willing to try anything at least once as long as it isn't anything too extreme or unhygienic.

: ̗̀➛ She's really big on safe sex. Fu Hua is actually very educated on sex despite having little to no personal experience with it/things related to it, mostly because she's had to give her disciples "the talk" before.

: ̗̀➛ During sex is when Fu Hua is the most emotionally vulnerable. She accidentally slips out words that she'd be way too prideful to say in any other situation, says "I love you" a lot more than usual, and reaches out to hold your hands subconsciously.

: ̗̀➛ She can go for a lot of rounds, but afterwards, she's immediately falling asleep. She'll try to give you the best aftercare she can (even if you were the one on top,) with the energy she has left, but the most she can probably do is get you a glass of water and a towel.

"My love..." She sighs, desperate and needy. Her legs rest at either of your sides as your hips rut slowly and softly against hers. Slender, calloused hands rest on your back, clawing ever so slightly whenever you hit a certain spot inside of her.

The room is dimly lit with scented candles, your clothes scattered on the floor while sensual music plays in the background. A scene telling of the romance and passion between two lovers.

You adjust yourself to hit deeper inside of her, and Fu Hua sings. She sings your name like an angel gently comforting you with her embrace; soft, and loving.

Feeling yourself nearing climax, you groan her name and bury your face into the side of her pale neck. As if in unspoken understanding, her fingers reach out to intertwine with yours, and her legs wrap around your waist.

Your hips stutter, and you fill her deep with your cum. Her chest rises up and down as she catches her breath, and she looks ethereal. You're set on spending the rest of your life with her.

March 7th

╰┈➤ SFW ;

: ̗̀➛ You and March 7th are the epitome of the saying "opposites attract." Or so, people say. While that might seem true on the surface, you actually have a lot of similarities like two stars in different galaxies, shining with unique brilliance yet connected by the vastness of the universe.

: ̗̀➛ For example, the two of you like quiet places; only for different reasons. You like quiet places because you like being able to be at peace and be alone with your thoughts. March likes quiet places because she can often find you in them. She loves bustling atmospheres and the blinding city lights, but she loves you more.

: ̗̀➛ Her troubles affect her more than they seem to, and when she can't silence the negative thoughts in her head, it's you that she comes to for respite.

: ̗̀➛ There's something about you that makes March feel so... safe and secure. She feels comfortable telling you about things that she'd normally repress herself. You keep her grounded. You help her get through the bad times and replace them with good ones.

: ̗̀➛ You care for her and try to comfort her the best you can, but you don't really care about things like "who she used to be" and "what she even is." Human, alien, or even as an emanator, you'd love her all the same. What matters to you isn't her past, but the future that you can have together.

"Hehe..." March looks up at the new ring you bought for her. The cold, silver metal shines when the moonlight hits it just the right way. To her, its glint symbolizes your love and the future to come. "Do you really like the ring that much?" You ask since she's been staring at it intently ever since you first got it for her. Of course, you're flattered since you also chose it, but you know March can be a bit overdramatic sometimes.

March turns to you as soon as the question leaves your lips. "Of course! You bought it for me, after all." She smiles with pride. You chuckle at her reaction and pat her head. "I'm glad you like it, but don't dote on it too much. I can always buy you a new one, y'know?" You weren't exactly rich, but that ring wasn't exactly expensive either. It was just something you bought because it seemed to be her style.

"Sure, but every gift from you is special to me. Even if you get me an extravagant wedding ring one day, I'll still treasure all of the handwritten notes you leave me sometimes." You blush at the implications of marriage. Of course it's been on your mind too, but to hear March mention it so casually has you feeling a bit bashful.

"When that time comes, let's get a big house and a whole army of pets! Ah, but that might make it difficult for the express... What about 5? Or if Pompom allows us, 10?" You chuckle at her ambition. You can already imagine Pompom going crazy with cleaning all of the fur. Still, a future like that with her sounds quite nice.

"We'll get as many as you want, March."

╰┈➤ NSFW ;

: ̗̀➛ She's not a stranger to the concept of sex, but there are a lot of things that she doesn't know about it. Despite that, or maybe because of that, she's always wanted to try.

: ̗̀➛ March 7th mostly bottoms--she counts on you to take the lead since you're more knowledgeable. She can definitely be the dominant one if asked, though. Top or bottom, her main goal is for both of you to feel good.

: ̗̀➛ Getting tied up and wearing nice lingerie are her favorite things! The intricate designs make March feel prettier, so she sometimes wears them underneath her clothes just for that confidence boost.

: ̗̀➛ She's up for it anytime anywhere mostly, but she's a bit hesitant to have sex in busier places. She likes it when there's a chance of someone spotting the two of you in the act, but she doesn't want to actually get caught. That would scar her for life.

: ̗̀➛ Loves it when you get more assertive. She loves how gentle and caring you are with her, so seeing a side of you that's so different gives her whiplash in the best ways possible.

: ̗̀➛ Her nipples are the most sensitive part of her body. She could have an orgasm just from you playing with them. A close second is her neck, though. Whether you leave kisses all over it or choke it ever so slightly, you're sure to get her gushing in her panties.

"I swear to Akivili, I'm going to kill you once all this is over!" March whisper shouts, turning to face you with an angry red all over her cheeks. Whether it's from embarrassment or arousal you're not sure.

The Astral Express had been invited to a fancy dinner, and as a result, you're spending the night mingling with the other guests; mostly the bigwigs of the planet you had just arrived on.

Or so, that's how March expected the evening would go. Now she's sat on your lap, legs spread as she gets fingered by you under the table. To others, you'd merely look like a young, naive couple in love, unaware of how her cunt drips slick and clamps down on your fingers.

Everyone turns their heads towards both of you when March whimpers in the middle of her sentence. She's quick to dismiss their concerns, and you chuckle at their cluelessness, saying March is just feeling a bit nervous.

You hold her gently by her chin and press a seemingly chaste kiss on her lips, swallowing her moans as she cums all over your hand. The rest of them are left none the wiser to the filthy acts the two of you are committing behind the scenes.

March hates how good you can make her feel.

Firefly

╰┈➤ SFW ;

: ̗̀➛ Your relationship is one full of secrets, but neither of you really mind. You understand that everyone has things that they wouldn't want anyone else to know, and that being their partner doesn't make you an exception.

: ̗̀➛ She doesn't question you when you come home at ungodly hours of the day. You don't question her when she comes home smelling like smoke and motor oil. You rush into each other's embrace regardless of the day you had beforehand. It gives you comfort and warmth and makes you feel like nothing else matters other than being in your lover's arms and the steady beating of their heart.

: ̗̀➛ Her favorite activity to do with you is baking! Neither of you is particularly skilled at it, but she finds the experience therapeutic and wants to share it with you. Firefly also has fun experimenting with the recipe to see what works the best.

: ̗̀➛ Firefly is a very kind and gentle partner, but only when she's awake. When the two of you are in bed together, (which is very rare considering how different your schedules are,) she becomes a heartless monster who hogs literally all of the blankets and pillows. Yes, blankets with an s. You've tried to solve this problem by getting your own, but to no avail.

: ̗̀➛ Honestly, it'd be pretty easy to take the blankets away from Firefly since she isn't very physically strong, but you can't. She just looks so peaceful asleep like this (despite leaving you vulnerable to the cold) and you know that she's tired. Hell, it's probably been a week or two since she's slept this well. You just don't have the heart.

"See, all you have to do is place the icing into the bag and..." Firefly rambles on about the techniques she uses when decorating pastries, even going as far as to give you a live example on the cake rolls the two of you were currently baking.

You cherish every second of these comfortable, domestic moments with her given how rare it is for the two of you to have the whole day to spend with each other like this.

However, there is one problem.

Earlier, you noticed that she accidentally put salt instead of sugar when making the batter. Should you tell her, or let her taste the consequences of her actions?

As you're faced with this life-threatening dilemma, Firefly looks up at you with a concerned expression and asks, "Are you okay, Mira...? We can always do this another time if you want."

For a moment, you almost take pity on her. Thinking of all the nights she took all the blankets and pillows (albeit unconsciously) and left you without protection against the cold, you make your decision. This blanket hogger must be brought to justice.

╰┈➤ NSFW ;

: ̗̀➛ It's good that you're more into soft sex because that's quite literally all that Firefly can handle. Seriously. Don't go rough on her unless you want her to get sent to the hospital.

: ̗̀➛ She can get a bit insecure about this and think that you deserve someone that you won't have to restrain yourself for during sex, but you reassure her that isn't the case and that intimacy isn't the most important part of your relationship with her.

: ̗̀➛ Due to how frail she is, it takes a lot of trust for her to engage in intimacy with someone. Chances are, you're probably her first time. She trusts you to not only make her feel good, but she also trusts that you'll be gentle and respect her boundaries.

: ̗̀➛ She's more on the vanilla side, but being physically weak doesn't stop her from having a few kinks of her own. For the most part, she'd be into getting blindfolded and temperature play.

: ̗̀➛ Whether Firefly is on top or not, she's way too gentle to ever hurt you, even accidentally. She's definitely the type to ask for consent/ask if you're feeling good every 5 minutes, regardless of how horny and desperate she might be.

When Firefly walked through the door with a sense of restlessness in her footsteps, rushing to take off her coat and straddle your hips as you sat on the couch, you already knew what she wanted.

Every time she's away at work (if you can even call it that) for a long time, she comes back all tense and desperate to please you. It's her favorite way to destress, she says. Still, you can never get used to your sweet and gentle Firefly being so... lustful.

Of course, you don't mind and you'd gladly help her take her mind off work, but the contrast in her behavior never fails to catch you off guard.

She buries her face into your neck, breathing heavily as her hands fumble for the waistband of your pants. "Pants, please?" You snap out of your inner monologue and help her.

Once she looks up at you, you can't help but notice the glint in her eyes. It's... different, and hungry. You can't help but be glad that you don't have to wake up early the next morning.

[nicoline1998enilocin]

Santa's Naughty Girl

Pairing | FWB!Loki Laufeyson x FWB!Avenger!Fem!Reader

Word count | ~ 800 words

Summary | You and Loki haven't met up in a few months due to conflicting schedules, but this night the stars finally align for you. He decides to surprise you whilst he's dressed as a sexy Santa, and you've never been more excited to be on someone's naughty list.

Rating | Explicit (E)

Warning(s) | Established relationship ~ Friends with benefits

Smut | Porn with very little plot, oral ~ M receiving, throat fucking, cum swallowing, implied unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!)

A/n | I want to give a massive thank you to @buckys-wintersoldier for sending me this delicious photo and giving me the inspiration, and thank you to @ccbsrmsf1 for proofreading, I appreciate and love you both to bits! 🩵

Events Masterlist | Sexy Santa | @sweetspicybingo

Banners: @vase-of-lilies | Divider: @firefly-graphics | Photo: Owner

Main Masterlist | Loki Laufeyson Masterlist | Read on AO3

Christmas is nearing rapidly, and you were under the impression you wouldn't see Loki before then. You were met with a rather festive surprise when you came back from movie night, though, because when you walked into your room, you saw Loki sitting in a big armchair in your bedroom, a Santa hat on his head, a candy cane in his hand, his shirt half-open exposing his chest and his leg spread invitingly.

Your breath hitches when he sensually licks and sucks the candy cane in his hand, and all you want is to lick and suck his candy cane.

"Loki! What are you doing here?!" you ask as you walk into your room, shedding most of your clothes on the way to him. When you get closer to him, you can see he's straining in his pants already, and you haven't even touched him yet.

"I just took a look at my list-" he tells you as he forges a list out of thin air using his magic, "-and it looks like you're on top of my naughty list this year. Have you been a bad girl for me?" Loki asks with a raised brow, and you quickly nod your head. Your thighs squeeze together in anticipation, and you can feel your arousal pooling in your panties.

"Yes, Santa. Been a very bad girl for you." The last of your clothing is on the floor, and you kneel between his legs, your hands sliding over his thighs right to where he needs you most. Your long fingernails scratch over his thighs, his eyes shuttering closed at the feeling.

"Don't tempt me, Gorgeous," he groans deeply, and with a small smile, you let your hands wander to his button and zipper, undoing them swiftly as he lifts his butt, sliding off his pants to reveal he's bare underneath the fabric.

"Fuck me..." you whisper as you see him standing at full attention, the tip already leaking a bead of precum before you even get your hands on him. When you do, and your fingers wrap around his shaft, he lets out a long, deep breath as you slowly move your hand up and down.

"That's it, Gorgeous, keep doing that," he says as his head falls back against the backrest of the chair, and that's when you lean in to give a little kitten lick over his tip, licking the precum off and letting the taste invade your mouth.

"You taste so good, Santa," you tell him, and you see him looking down at you with his pupils blown wide; the green of his eyes completely disappeared. Lust has taken over as he puts his candy cane down, and his long, slender fingers slide into your hair to guide you precisely where he wants you to be.

"C'mon, Gorgeous, you want to make it onto Santa's nice list, right?" you try to nod with all your might, but it's not easy when he's holding you like that.

"Open your mouth," he orders, and you do, all while keeping eye contact with him, and he guides his cock into your mouth, letting a groan escape when you immediately start to suck softly, just the way he likes. You slowly take more and more of him into your mouth, and before you know it, he's completely buried, your nose touching his pubic bone.

The groans he's letting out are unmistakable, and he starts moving your head up and down, practically using you as a fleshlight. Where his thrusts are short and quick at first, they slowly change into slow, long strokes as he pulls out almost entirely, only to thrust back in harshly, making you gag around him, the tears now streaming onto your cheeks.

"Oh, fuck, that's it! 'm cumming for you, Gorgeous; you better swallow it all!" he tells you through gritted teeth, and with just a few more strokes, his pace falters, and his grip on your hair tightens. When you feel the first spurt of his cum hit your throat, you look up at him, meeting his pitch-black eyes as he cums.

He slowly pulls out until the last few drops fall onto your tongue, and you make sure to swallow every last drop before you stick out your tongue.

"Hmm, maybe you'll be on my nice list by the end of the evening, Gorgeous," he tells you, and you smile up at him before he pulls you up and into his lap, lining up with your entrance before you sink with a deep moan.

"Good girl," he whispers in your ear before you roll your hips slowly, adjusting to him as you go. The rest of the evening is spent either fucking each other senseless or just enjoying each other's company, but one thing is for sure, you have never seen a sexier Santa in your life.

[nrcissasblack]

When: Firefly Festival Where: Meadow, at dusk Who: Narcissa & Pen @pen-kneeling

Narcissa spotted the dress first and realized who was wearing it after the fact. She frowned. Why hadn't she thought of wearing a dress like that? It was gorgeous, but she could only imagine what her mother would have to say if she wore something that revealing. As it was her mother had barely wanted her to wear the dress that she had decided on. Druella Black could be so draining.

She noticed who was wearing the dress after she looked again. Narcissa recognized Pen and made her way over to them. "Your dress is beautiful. I wish I would have thought of wearing something like that myself," Narcissa complimented.

[aquagirl1978]

Chasing Fireflies - Chevalier Michel x Reader (Ikemen Prince)

A/N: Part of the Summer Days Sultry Night writing event I am co-hosting with @violettduchess

Pairing: Chevalier Michel x Reader

Prompt: fireflies and summer festival

Tags: fluff

“Look, Papa!”

The young boy proudly held out his cupped hands to his father; nestled inside was a firefly, its abdomen glowing brightly in the fading twilight sky. 

Chevalier smiled softly as he watched his son gaze at the firefly, his face alight with joy, amazed that amidst all the lights and sounds of the summer festival that this small creature captured his full attention.

“What are you going to do with him?” Chevalier asked his son as the firefly crawled along one of his small fingers.

The boy looked up at his father, his attention finally pulled from the tiny insect. “I’ll let him go,” he replied quickly, as if there was no other answer in the world. “I just wish Mama was here to see.”

“Your mother and sister will be back shortly. With a pile of books, I’m sure.” The firefly fluttered his wings before flying away, his flickering light soon disappearing in the distance.

“Goodbye, firefly.”

Something stirred inside Chevalier as he watched his young son wave goodbye to his friend the firefly. Looking back on his own childhood, he couldn’t recall a single, innocent moment like this shared with either of his parents. This. This affection, this connection, this love was everything he had been missing and craving for so many years.

That all changed when he met you.

Chevalier looked up, his smile bright like the firefly, as soon as he spotted your figure approaching. In one of your hands was a small stack of books pressed against your chest; the other hand held a smaller hand, that of your young daughter. 

Warmth filled his body with his family reunited, his queen by his side. No longer a strange feeling, it was something he secretly wished would never go away.

“What did you two do while we were shopping?” you asked, genuinely curious.

“I caught a firefly, Mama. But…he flew away before you came back.”

“Oh, that’s a shame. I wish I could have seen him. 

Something in the air caught Chevalier’s eye; he reached out, his fingers outstretched, quickly closing into a loose fist. He turned over his hand, his fingers opening to reveal a tiny firefly in his large palm. 

“Papa, you caught one!” the boy and girl exclaimed together excitedly.

Chevalier turned to you, proud to present you this prize. He cupped his hands like his son did earlier, careful to not let the firefly fly away just yet. He stood there silently, simply enjoying the childlike joy that filled your face.

Tagging: @redheadkittys @alixennial @rhodolitesroseforclavis @kissmetwicekissmedeadly @chaosangel767 @queengiuliettafirstlady @queen-dahlia @ikehoe @ikemen-writer @talfollowingstuff @kpop-and-otome @kisara-16 @altairring @lucyw260 @lordsisterxotome @violettduchess @umi-adxhira @bellerose-arcana @yarnnerdally @crypticbibliophile @lancelotscloak @scorchieart @tele86 @nightfoxqueen @melodiousramblings @wendolrea @aceuuuu @randonauticrap @aria-chikage

[mckns]

When: Firefly Festival Where: In Hogsmeade Who: Marlene & @woofhaunted

Marlene was thankful she had a good handful of muggle friends. They always showed her the most fun things, like these so-called magic mushrooms. No, they weren't really magic, but they definitely made her trip. The glowy lights and pretty colours had her absolutely captivated. It was the perfect event to give them a go, and she couldn't wait until the Lighting Bugs woke up, it was going to look so cool, she was sure of it.

"Remus!" Marlene called, watching as her friend passed by her, "What's up with your pants, dude?" She giggled, walking towards him and kneeling down to get a better look. "They're so shiny, Remus! So pretty…" She took another moment to admire the starry pattern on his pants before standing back up, a wide smile on her lips. "What is up, my friend? You gonna hang out with me or what?"

[littlekiara96]

Why are there so many little inconsistencies about Gallagher and who he is?

[Obvious spoilers for 2.0 Penacony content undercut, you've been warned.]

This reflexion of mine started back when I first saw him during the Penacony storyline and in that one occasion you can mention him to an NPC at Dream's Edge.

Let's talk about the first time we see Gallagher, and more precisely, how the two NPCs present react to him.

(Let's call them Taylor and Bob. Taylor uses a fem 3D model, but Gallagher keeps gendering both of them as men, so I'll roll with that.)

First, Taylor does not know Gallagher at all. Nothing strange there. The Families have a lot of members, it sounds believable. For now.

Bob, on the other hand, recognises him. But he seems to do so thanks to his appearance and his "trademark" features (brown hair and grey vest) more than because he actually knew him.

He also describes Gallagher as the "officer sent by the Family". Here, "officer" could either mean a worker for the Family, which is a given, or it could be an actual rank, which sounds more probable. He does wear what looks like a badge on his left lapel.

And afterall, Gallagher trained those two, so it surely means that he's of a higher rank than them-

Wait. He's training them?

Bob recognised him, technically, yes. But Taylor couldn't even tell who he was??

And "he's been training them"???

How does one of your trainees not recognise you on sight??!

And that's not the weirdest part.

So, Gallagher was specially sent by the Family to ensure the safety of the Charmony Festival, right? So, that sounds like he's kind of a big deal, right? Like... Other Bloodhounds would know about his presence, right?

Okay. Either the guy who won't let us to the secret place is lying as a means to do his job...

Or there's something wrong about Gallagher, actually...

Alright... What do we know about him, at this point?

Bartender and security officer. That makes sense for different reasons.

Coty and Woolsey, two other Bloodhounds, also explain the extent of the Bloodhound Family's job.

Coty puts it quite literally: they will help you manage your emotions. Because doing so is also part of taking care of safety issues, because of how the Dreamscape works and can be affected by said emotions.

And Woolsey is the NPC who tells you if there are people in the Dreamscape who still need such aid in managing their emotions.

Thus, Gallagher being security staff and a bartender makes sense.

Here's the citation from his reveal on the HSR Youtube channel:

"Making a drink is a sensory skill. In dreams, creating fizzy concoctions requires adding a bit of your mood. Heavier if you're troubled, a touch sweeter if you're in high spirits... It's not just about mixing beverages. It's about mixing the experiences of life."

And funnily enough, there's this no-name bar with a no-name bartender somewhere on the commercial street and uhh...

Yeah, that House-Blend sounds like something Gallagher could make.

Hell, it perfectly fits!

But let's go back to his "downloading" description...

Local of Penacony. Very knowledgeable, but also lowkey about it.

So, Gallagher is a discreet bartender with a discreet bar, and also a security officer of a high enough rank to be sent by The Family to secure the biggest event to them, and to have trainees...

And no one knows who this guy is.

Except Misha. Who doesn't even work directly with him.

... Am I the only one getting weirded out by all of this?

Bonus:

Have a lil' crack theory of my own. Because I'm silly, aha.

Gallagher and Firefly share the same shade of green with a "starry sky" pattern. He's not the real Gallagher, and the only things they actually have in common are the "brown hair and grey vest", but of course that's enough to fool everyone Superman-style.

The Bloodhounds are looking for a silver-haired boy, or at least, that's how "Gallagher" corrected them.

Is it Sparkle in disguise? Someone else? Why are they helping Firefly? Does she know them? I don't know, this is a crack theory.

Good night and have nice dreams~

ADDENDUM, because another post made me go "Waiiiit that is ALSO very weird:

Hey, remember the Pepeshi Club and its entry rules?

Cielo confirms that anyone (not just Sparkle) can change their "Dreamscape avatar" a.k.a. appearance. And the Dreamscape Pass serves as an I.D. to check someone's true identity, even when they are using an appearance completely different form it.

So uuuuuh...

Why didn't Gallagher just check Firefly's I.D.??? Wouldn't that be the first thing to do in the Dreamscape while searching for a stowaway who could change their appearance so easily???

No need to be uncourteous about it too, like Bob and Taylor were... Just a lil' "Excuse me, milady, may I have a look at your Pass, please?"

Would that have been too much??? Gallagher, dear, care to explain yourself???

[writingcold]

Chapter Five - Heavy but not as hard as last chapter.

Content Warnings:  I need to put this here - this is a work of fiction. There will be imagery of violence, character deaths, inequities, poverty, heavy angst, and adult sexual situations throughout the story. Please read at your own discretion. All characters are fictional, though some of the big events that are shown are historical, but may not be historically accurate. 

Thank you to @edgingthedarkness for all of her help as my all mighty beta for this fiction. She listened to me drone on and on about it for months on end. She really took a bullet for this one! She created the banner for this story as well! Also thank you to @katuschka for her amazing skills in bringing our hero Jakub to life. Divider art by @ firefly-graphics.

The Dead

Jake X Fem!Reader

Chapter Five word count: approximately 4300 words

Warnings in this part: Intense action and injury, with a heavy dose of angst to start. Indirect talking of death.

Chapter 5.1: Lurking in the Graveyard

     I was waiting at the door of the library at nine the next morning with a box of fresh donuts and a smile. Becca and the other staff members were surprised and insisted that I share one with them while they prepared for the day. I laughed with them until the first of the patrons began to wander inside. I made a b-line straight for the bound volume of newspapers. Having marked my path along the mammoth sized volume of newspapers, I made my way to where I had left off with the death of the friend and slowly slogged forward hoping that Jake would appear, still prowling the stage. At the end of 1987, there was a blurb saying that the album for Black Flag Expedition was on hold indefinitely. My heart sank. No picture. Just the press release. April of 1988 held a nugget - Little Archer had been picked up by Mid State, a slightly larger studio. Mid State was announcing their summer festival schedule of its talent. Though BFE was not on the ticket, Jake Thomas was. His name was attached to another act with a ‘featuring’ tag on it. 

     I let my fingers ghost across his name. He had returned to his stage. My heart felt lightened to know that he had continued. Two weeks after the Mid State blurb, there was a picture of Jake on stage, drenched in hot sunlight, shirtless, face calm as he moved on his stage. Unlike before the death of his friend, he was not as skinny; not as sharp looking. He looked healthy - skin a lush shade of caramel, hair clipped just below his shoulders. I found myself feeling a swoon threatening as I read about how Jake had been added to six more shows, having joined another band - no longer the ‘featured’ but now the lead guitarist of the freshly renamed The Lost Horizon. A stab of familiarity hit, but I couldn’t quite explain why. I took the note down about the band with the intent of looking for more information.

      I pushed forward through the summer blips of successful shows, taking pictures of each one to document. 1989 was silent. My heart clenched as I felt a frantic energy that prickled at my fingertips. There was nothing all through 1990. I was chewing my lip to ribbons and my brain was chugging forward. April, 1991 brought a gasp and a breaking within that I did not realize I would feel. I knew this man was in the cemetery - haunting it, and yet. A full minute floated through the air around me before I could fully realize that this man died the day before my birthday. 

     There was nothing as to why Jake had passed within the obituary, only those few who he considered family, and that he was gone. Emotions snapped and bit at my fringes. I knew this man was dead and somehow my brain wanted him to not be. The feeling of being at the end of a path, the end of a trail that was supposed to go on struck. There had to be more. He existed, he blazed in life and now… Gone.

     Grief? How could one feel grief for someone not just gone, but gone before one was born? Let alone never met, never felt their actual presence. This deep lingering sense of loss felt engraved in my bones - the pain was old and…  I was being weird. I was too invested in this path. But then my eyes trailed back to the obituary and it would start again. I’m unsure how long I stared at the photo. He looked so young. I found a hard breath in my lungs pushing up through my throat as the notion of the 27 club slithered into my brain. It was more than a shame that his talent never broke out of the small circle of Detroit. His sound had been bigger than the small stage he had graced.

     Instead of wallowing, my fingers hit the keys of the laptop as my eyes remained fixed to the drizzle that blew against the window and the blurred color of the autumn that lay just beyond. I must’ve looked entranced. It was a complete drivel that was leaked out on the screen, but it felt good. It was like the characters were beginning to rise from the ether and take form. Tattered clothing matched tattered turmoil on his skin. The thought made me smile and I was okay with that.

     The alarm on my phone chirped me out of my stupor. I fumbled to kill the overtly cheerful tone- reminding me that it was lunch and my meeting with Uther Mason was to follow. In a dreamlike state fog, I straightened up and waved to the library staff on my way out the door. Food in my belly, chai latte in hand to take out the chill, and back in my room with the laptop booting up, I found myself dragging over the loss once more. I needed to clear those cobwebs from my skull and get out the list of questions to keep me in check. I had a few carefully orchestrated queries to keep things moving in a direction. I could and would be a professional in this meeting.

      I located Vin’s meeting link and clicked on it to get into the ‘waiting room’. I’d have just enough time to take a few sips of my drink and make sure everything was at arm’s length in the case that I needed it. A few minutes after the official start, the screen chimed with another joining in. Before me, a man roughly in his early 70’s with patchy hair and craggy features. There was no smile on his face. I took a breath before bringing up my most professional expression.

     “Mr. Mason, it’s a pleasure to meet you,”  I started.

     “Drop the mister. Call me Uther and we’ll be good,”  he said, his eyes lightening with a genuine smile. “I hear you want to know about Black Flag Expedition.”

     I appreciated that the man was right to the point. I pressed my fingers into the paper that held my questions. I moved through the typical inquiries about the studio and the band; he was ready with answers that filled out what was in the newspapers. I found myself nodding and jotting down a fresh web of notes. 

      “You were named producer, Uther, so I must ask, did they ever finish their album?  I mean, were there any tracks put down, anything fully realized?”  I asked, my eyes wandering back over the names of the members of the band, scraps of background on each one, and the lack of information about the band actually being in the studio. “I listened to the demo you shared. It was quite good. Excellent, in fact.”

     He grinned. “I wish I could say that we had a finished album. Those boys were working so hard, but Jake had a distinct idea of what they needed to be.”

     I looked up from my notes. “Was he…”

     “He was such a perfectionist,” Morgan replied with a grimace. “That kid was his own worst enemy at times. We got a lot of good stuff, just not what he thought would set them apart. I mean - the shit that was coming out during that time was all super sonic riffs and hair a mile high. It wasn’t his sound; the band’s tempo was from other eras, but fresh, you know?  He wanted to not be compared to anybody. He wanted his own sound to be something unique.”

      I raised an eyebrow before turning my attention back to my notes. “What was he like?”

      “A total asshole,”  he laughed with a wave of his hand. “No. I wish I could say that was true. He was really a good guy. Just very focused, very driven. That was Jake. He’d half starve himself working for days on end like there was a ghost chomping on his ass, while the others were just looking to be young and dumb.”

       My brows pinched. “So, they did not finish the album…”

      “No. And unfortunately, that demo is all that was left. We had a roof collapse and there was extensive damage to our storage area about ten years ago,”  he explained. “Almost all of our original demo stuff that had not been digitized was lost. It was catastrophic.”

       “I’m sorry to hear that.”  I tapped my pen to the notebook while my eyes skated over to my list of questions. “He disappeared for a while, it seems, after the death of the drummer-”

       “Oh, Danny. Yeah. That was just bad all the way around,”  Morgan remarked with a grimace. “We were able to get them out of the studio for a lake day.”

      He seemed to get uncomfortable and I watched as he shifted around. “May I ask what happened?”

      “Too much booze. The kid got too damned dehydrated,”  Morgan answered, eyes cast down to the corner of the screen as if he was trying not to remember everything. “He said he didn’t feel well and the rest of the group didn’t listen to him at first. The doctors said he went into shock and fell into the water because of heat stroke. They tried to get him off the water, but…

       “After the funeral, Jake wasn’t as focused. We assumed that he was drinking heavily.”

       I bit into the corner of my mouth, unsure why I felt a wave of sadness. It was not like I knew these people. I jotted down the incident then reached for a sip of water as if to regroup. Instead of moving onto my next question, I found my eyes were frozen to the page. Morgan seemed to step back for a respite as well. His thick breath close to the mic on his end drew me back to the screen.

     “I saw that he did continue on, a few years later?”  I asked, my voice a little softer. “Lost Horizon?”

      It felt strange to have those words cross my mouth. It resonated within me in a way that left me searching for why, but not truly wanting to know the answer.

     “Yeah. They were out of Green Bay, and were not the best fit for him. He was too big for them,” Uther remarked, his mouth curling down over his words. “Jake went dark after he lost Danny. Not too many wanted to deal with his moods, or his string of bad luck.”

     “Dark?” There was a stab in my gut over the word. “Bad luck?”

     The man on my screen struggled. His bright blue eyes trailed across the table before him like he was stalling until he could find the right phrasing. I feigned taking a note, but really I was hanging on with all my might not to demand an instant answer.

     “He was changed,”  Uther started quietly. “He was fixated on fate. He’d talk about dark magic and what he called deep time. His playing reflected it. Shit. I can’t even say it right. It was like all his light was dimmed.”

      “Light?” I asked, my heart constricting painfully.

     He laughed as he rocked forward, a color rising in his face like he was embarrassed. “That kid had more charisma in his hands than some of those top guitar heroes of the time. Hell, I’d even say ranking amongst the top of the top. He had a confidence that was so sharp. Kid had a light that was catchy.”

      I let the silence stretch to allow for him to collect his thoughts that appeared to be scattered. I wrote ‘darkened’, all the while my brain was trying to picture what that sound would have felt like. Melancholy? Perhaps faster, harder? More like the heavy metal that was emerging? Or was it deeper, languid?  

      “By that point, Archer had been bought out, and my new bosses thought Jake was a drunk,”  he continued, as if the words didn’t want to be breathed into life. “It was on them, though. Kid was sober the whole time.”

      My pen paused in my notebook. I swallowed, finding a thickness that I didn’t want to take. I knew what was coming and I knew I needed to hear it and I knew I did not want to truly know. Did I? The knowledge that he died would be enough. Did I need the actual ‘how’ was the question.

      “Sober?” I prodded as flame tickled my diaphragm. 

      “Can you believe those assholes griped that he didn’t party with them? He was elevating them from their stupid Paper Bag Recital garage band days. What a dumb ass name for a band. Little shits,” he scoffed. “It’s what got them out of the game.”

      I could feel his anger pulsing through the screen. “I’m not following.”

      “Jake, as I said, was sober. The singer, Caleb whatever-his-name-was, went to management and complained that Jake wasn’t part of the group if he didn’t party with them. They didn’t trust him if they didn’t know him,”  he said. I watched as he took a sip of his drink. His hand was white knuckled on the glass. “As if being that stupid was a good thing. The kid had seen things, fucking lived things, and those-”

      “How did it happen?”  I asked as his words broke.

      He leaned to the side, coming to rest on his elbow. He bared his teeth as his eyes turned sad. “Between shows, Jake called, arguing that he wasn’t going to get in the band’s van if any one of ‘them’ was driving. They refused to give him the keys. I don’t know if he was just tired of fighting, but he got into that van and never came out. It was Caleb that was driving. Jake and Johnny were in the far back and were crushed. Caleb and the other two walked away.”

      I fought my face over showing any emotion, but found myself wiping at my eyes while my mouth pursed hard. I cleared my throat as I scrambled to collect my thoughts. “I don’t suppose Lost Horizon cut any-”

     “Those fuckers couldn’t find their asses with both hands,” Uther snarled. “They wasted him.”

      The silence that followed hurt. Jake’s talents had been wasted. What a thought to percolate through at such a moment. With one hand covering my mouth, the other was slow to scratch the words into the paper before me.

      “Jake was one of those talents that deserved more than it got. More support, more attention. It was a fucking shame.”

      I nodded slowly. An ache wrapped around my middle and reverberated up into my skull.

      “I don’t know what you were looking for here, but it’s-”

      “Right now, I’m in character development,”  I said, allowing my professional self to step up and around the mass of goo that was really present. “I came across Jake in an old newspaper and it just seemed like an interesting story.”

      He was nodding, his brow pumping with a new resolve. “Well. He was a unique guy. I wish we could’ve done right by him.”

      I made my thank yous and light small talk to wrap the meeting. We parted with a fragment of a smile between us. I had kicked a hornet nest of emotions for that man, and felt it as I ended the call. Uther Morgan’s regret was a chasm of time that would not heal for him. 

      It was a strange case of emotions that settled into my brain. I opened a new document and my fingers lay prone on the keyboard, but did not move. Wasted. The word was palpable on my tongue and it hurt. It choked in my throat like acid. In the silence of the room, I began to write in earnest.

Chapter 5.2: Lurking in the Graveyard

     The very real human tactic of the avoidance of pain haunted my steps as I watched the creature rise from my grave once more. I lurked in the farthest corner that my tether would allow, my face sullen with rejection. I am unsure why I was convinced that this creature was the embodiment of Maéva. It seemed correct, but why would I need to be taunted further by this curse?  One would think four centuries would be torture enough, but to have this thing and memories together was nearly too much for my in-between being to handle.

      She was nearly returned to the gate, turning once more to look across the craggy grounds. I barely looked, knowing that her exit was just one more dagger to the chest. I smiled over the idiocy of that thought. I noticed she lingered. It was moments only, but she remained longer than she had ever had before. Her face turned away from me as if she was looking for…  Me?  I drifted forward just as she turned towards the gate, her hand pushing the iron forward. I called for Maéva, foolish hope rising in my throat. But she was gone. Defeated, I retreated, following the path that she had trod only minutes before. I lay down upon what had become her spot and imagined that she would return soon.

     Unlike my peers, I was not wrapped in a heavy greatcoat or furs to protect me from the biting winds. The captain - normally a fair master - took no pity upon me. I found my exposed body on the rigging as the storm battered against the waters we trod. There was ill ease amongst the crew, though the exact reason for our expedited route was not truly known save for the Captain and first mate. The whispers were thick that there was not a rushed cargo to obtain, but to rid Sault Ste. Marie of a criminal. I kept my mouth shut, despite knowing that all the souls on the ship were in jeopardy because of me. The ice floes were still heavy on the lake, making the normal route to La Baye impassable. It was obvious when we set sail that our Captain knew of the conditions. He knew that there was only one way that we might reach our destination.

     Cap a la Mort. The name lingered in conversations and nightmares alike. The pass claimed large sloops and canoes the same. The unpredictable nature of the strait between l’Isle des Poux set many a captain and sailor on edge. The high cost of ship construction made it worth the few days to sail to the north to turn south in the safer waters of the main channel leading to the more calm La Baye, versus the angry, storm riddled strait that lay before us that night. 

     The crew’s screams of terror wove through waves and rock and the splintering of the ship’s stout ribs. I huddled with two others, a mooring line wrapped around us, a thin tether to the rail and a prayer was all that was holding us to the deck. The Captain’s call was muffled and cut short, capturing our attention immediately. The man to my right cursed with fear, while the man to my left quaked against me, hiding his face in my side. The sickening crunch of the ship striking the rocks and the thrust and roll had us slamming against the deck and rail like fish fresh from the sea. The cries of the dying tickled my ears as we thrashed around against each other, completely out of control. I latched my hand to the rigging line in desperation, while the other two pawed and flailed and disappeared into the blackness.

     My body lurched upwards. Jostled. Tossed. Shoved. I plunged into the frigid water. There was no time for fear; no time for pain. Instinctively, I clung to the first solid mass my hands could latch on to. I fought for breath, swallowing so much water that I started to vomit it through my fight. My grunts and groans slid into animalistic sounds as I struggled in the dark. 

     Somehow, I woke upon the rocks of the beachhead. My breathing was labored against shattered ribs. I tried to push myself up, only to scream as my leg buckled under my weight. Hands came down on my back. At first, I fought, but my strength faded quickly. I found myself flipped onto my back and looking into four men’s faces. They spoke English words too quickly for me to understand. My Maéva had only recently started to teach me the language and none of the words that struck my ear sounded right. I shook my head to show I did not understand. I repeated the name of the ship - The Fier  - and LeBeau over and over in hopes that the man’s reputation would save me. I could not swallow the shriek of pain that roasted my whole body as I was lifted and moved. 

      I woke to fresh linens and a fire that danced across my skin. My body rippled with pain from the tips of my toes to the top of my head and back again. I could hear the voices of Franck Gidde, the first mate and Jacque Longchambon, the cook’s assistant. I tried to turn my head to the sound, but the effort and pain was too great. I tried to make a sound, but failed. My body decided to sleep instead. It was months before I was strong enough to sit and speak with Franck and listen to how we would return to Sault Ste. Marie. I found a sympathetic ear in the first mate - he was aware that LaBeau was not well intentioned towards the crew. I explained my love for Maéva, our plans for the future, and how I had been placed on arrest - that this was LaBeau’s manner of getting rid of me so that his daughter would grant him titles through marriage to the viscount’s son.

      It was not until the end of August that we were able to secure transport from Porte de Morts to return to Sault Ste. Marie. Franck would not hear my argument for going directly to LaBeau. He wanted to see for himself if what I said was true - that the shipwright intended to kill his crew to secure clear waters for the damn aristocrats. Stepping foot on the pier sent shivers through my frame. The land was not right. It felt dim as I hid myself in shadows of the alleys, making our way towards safer shores. 

      The Amorous Roar was a tavern on the far side of the pier and was home to a shadier form of man and woman. Franck pointed to a table and told me to sit. I followed orders for lack of any fight left in my body. The world was off. I kept my frame forward on the table, making sure my face was hidden while Franck and Jacque made the rounds of the tavern. Just when I thought I was in the clear, a man sat across from me. His stern brow held a heat that I wasn’t sure if I should brace myself for a blow to my head, or if he was about to…

      “I cannot believe that you have returned,”  he said, in our shared mother tongue.

      I blew out a soft breath as I gathered my horizon. “I nearly did not.”

     He looked around with a wary eye before leaning in. Before I could ask him, he started to talk, hushed and reverent. For a hired henchman, he was close to the villain for a term. His words were soft, but the impact bruised heavily. She was gone. My Maéva had been snuffed out. Her light was gone and I was left behind in a world that I suddenly did not want to belong to. 

      “Why do you sit with me?”  I asked, unable to hide the hitch in my voice.

      He frowned as his gaze fell away. “Just because I am a hired man, does not mean that I know wrong when I see it. Doesn’t mean that I can’t right it.”

      “Right it?”  

      “Aye,”  he said with a nod. He set a huge hand on the table before him, palm down. “You have two evils on your tail, boy. I will be glad to help you.”

     “I have no coin-”

     He grinned, setting his stern face into a relaxed state. “No coin needed. I think we can come to an agreement where we get fat off their coin with some help from my friends.”

     “I know not your name, friend,”  I said, as Franck and Jacque came to stand behind me.

     Ryszard was his name and he had some very powerful friends, indeed. Friends that sailed under no flag and no country on the lakes. They were not good men, but they answered only to themselves. To take down one of the many shipwrights on The Lakes would induce an effect that would aid them in their cause. Franck was patient and listened to the strong man.

     “I need to know that he did this, first,”  the first mate said, though his mind seemed to already be aligned with the man before us.

     LaBeau, it was known, would walk every afternoon down the pier to look upon his ships that were busy in the port. We made sure to be in his path. The look of shock upon his face was hardly satisfactory, but it was a start to righting his very wrong doing…  

Not as dire as our last chapter, but Death's Door lore is really fascinating! There are some real ghost stories that surround the channel that goes into the bay at Green Bay. So, we have the full story of our Jacob Thomas, we may or may not know the identity of our creature that is haunting our ghost. Anyone want to take a stab at what is going on here? See you next Thursday for chapter six! 💚

Tags are in the comments as it seems to work best that way! If you want to be added, let me know. @edgingthedarkness@its-interesting-van-kleep@lvnterninthenight@katuschka@thewritingbeforesunrise @ignite-my-fire @takenbythemadness @jakekiszkasbuttsweat @fleet-of-fiction @demonrat444 @klarxtr @peaceloveunitygvf @hollyco @lipstickitty @joshym @itsafullmoon @josh-iamyour-mama @jake-whatthefisgoingon-kiszka @way-to-go-lad @jjwasneverhere @gretavangroupie @emojakekiszka @wetkleenex-gvf @vanfleeter @losfacedevil @myownparadise96 @lizzys-sunflower @literal-dead-leaf @musicislove3389 @raceb14

[jobean12-blog]

Fair Grounds for Love

Pairing: Joel Miller x reader (Cowboy AU)

Word Count: 1,772

Summary: Joel takes you to your first real state fair

Author’s Note: This is for @the-slumberparty June Writing Challenge and my item is lemonade and my setting is festival/fair as well as a Summer Bingo Event and Choose your own AU box. I also did one with Biker!Joel and since my friends are super supportive and kind I decided to do Cowboy!Joel too because both are the best! Thank you to Navy and Roo for hosting and thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️ All dividers by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: lots of fun and fluff and sweetness, it gets flirty at the end ;) 

This photo below was taken by Iglesias Mas for Strange Way of Life 😍

Joel Miller Masterlist

Joel insists on picking you up for your date to the state fair, ever the gentleman and loving any excuse to spend more time together.

He knocks and waits, his smile growing when he hears you start to unlock the door.

You open it just enough to say, “close your eyes, Cowboy.”

He takes a step back and pulls his hat off then puts it over his face.

When you step out you rest your hand on his arm. “Okay.”

He takes his hat down and it tumbles from his fingers as he focuses on you, his gaze sweeping from your head to your toes.

“My god,” he says.

You grin and bend down to grab his hat before standing and placing it back on his head.

“Does that mean you like it?” you ask, tone cheeky.

You step closer and press yourself against him. “You look pretty good too…if you can stop drooling and close your mouth.”

He pulls you closer. “You are the sexiest, most beautiful woman I have ever seen darlin’.”

His arms circle around your waist and he kisses you hello, the sweet gesture quickly turning heated as his hands smooth along your curves and he drags your hips into his.

When he releases you he let’s out a sigh, kissing you one more time, quickly, before taking your hand and walking you to his truck.

“If we don’t leave now I’m gonna march you right back into the house and we’ll never make it to the fair.”

You giggle and hop into the truck when he opens the door. The ride is short and it almost takes you as long to find parking.

“Wow,” you whisper as you enter the fairgrounds, “I’ve never been to anything like this before.”

You look around at all the rides, tents and booths, a vibrant array of colors and sounds, and try to take it all in.

“Let’s go have some fun darlin’.”

You nod excitedly and keep hold of his hand as you wander toward some of the booths, stopping at the first game you see.

Joel tips his hat back and gives you a wink before he takes the toy rifle and gets into position to shoot the target.

You try not to giggle when he leaves just a shred of black on the star-shaped target, failing to win you a big stuffed toy and grumbling something about poor mechanics.

“I thought all you cowboys knew how to shoot!” you tease.

“Gimme something with a decent lever action and I’ll shoot the feathers off a duck’s butt at five hundred feet! This thing…”

He looks at the old and rusty toy. “Sucks!”

“Yeah…yeah,” you continue to tease. “And that poor duck!”

You make a pouty face and he smirks, taking your chin between his fingers and pulling you in for a kiss.

“Don’t worry darlin’,” he murmurs against your lips. “It’s just an expression.”

He slips his hand into his back pocket and hands the guy working at the game booth another dollar.

“One more try.”

You keep still, watching the target intently as Joel readies himself and starts to shoot.

With a squeal you throw yourself into his arms. “You did it!”

“Just needed to warm up,” he says with a triumphant grin.

You tap your chin as you try to pick out your new toy. “I’d like the stuffed dog please, the brown and white one.”

The guy at the game booth pulls it down and hands it to you with a smile.

You squeeze the dog to your chest and smile over it at Joel.

He reaches for your hand and you take it.

“Can we go on a ride now?” you ask, tugging on his arm.

“Sure darlin’.”

You spot the Viking swing ride; it’s squealing and creaking motor making Joel grimace as you approach.

“This has gotta be older than me,” he jokes.

“I’m scared but I want to go on!” you tell him.

Pressing yourself into his side the entire time you’re waiting on the line you finally move up to take your seats, suddenly unsure if you want to hold onto the railing or Joel.

“I apologize in advance if I scream really loud and squeeze the life out of you.”

He presses his lips together to stifle a laugh and you narrow your eyes playfully, startling when the ride jerks forward. Without a second through you wrap both your arms around his bicep and smash yourself against his side.

Now you feel his laughter and you would scold him except the ride starts getting into full swing and the only thing you can do is scream with terrified glee.

He tucks his hat away so it doesn’t blow off his head and gives you a reassuring squeeze.

When you step off the ride you lean into Joel’s side to steady yourself.

“Did ya have fun?” he asks.

“Yes!” you squeak. “Everything is a little wobbly though.”

“I got ya darlin’,” he says softly, tucking you under his arm. Let’s get something sweet.”

He leads you over to the food area and you look around the bustling fairgrounds, trying to decide what to get. The air is filled with the aroma of various foods, each one tantalizing and you finally choose something, deciding first to have lemonade.

“The booth is a lemon,” you giggle as you wait on the line. “It’s so cute!”

“Wait ‘til you get a taste darlin’.”

You take a moment to peruse the menu, and your mouth waters with anticipation as you read the enticing choices. Classic lemonade, freshly squeezed and tangy, is available for those seeking a traditional experience. But there's also a selection of tempting twists on the classic, such as strawberry lemonade.

Taking Joel’s advice you go for a classic lemonade, your eyes widening when the vendor hands you a cup so large you can barely close your fingers around it.

Joel takes it from you, the cup looking like a regular size in his large hands.

“Here,” he says, holding the straw up to your lips.

The cool, tangy sweetness dances on your taste buds, instantly refreshing and invigorating. The combination of tart lemons, the subtle hint of sweetness, and the chill of the ice soothes your senses on this warm day, making you feel rejuvenated.

“It’s sooooo good. Oh my god.”

You take a second long sip before he does the same.

“Shit,” he agrees with a chuckle. “I’m almost forgot how good this is.”

You reach for another drink but he swipes the cup away and instead plants his lips on yours.

“Mmm,” he hums. “Sorry darlin’…just need some extra sugar.”

He adjusts his hat and winks.

“Where are we going now?”

You’re back in Joel’s pick-up, resting against his shoulder, your stomach full and your feet tired.

“It’s a surprise.”

He pulls off the road and into a small clearing, stopping the truck at the edge of a cliff.

Before he opens his door he holds up his finger, signaling for you to wait, and jumps out, running around the truck to help you.

“We’re so high up!” you say, peering near the edge. “It’s so beautiful!”

The cliff offers a panoramic view, stretching far and wide. Below, the vast expanse of the earth unfolds, revealing a tapestry of rolling hills, meandering rivers and lush greenery.

While you’re admiring the view he lowers the tailgate and sets down a blanket in the truck bed.

“Come ‘ere darlin’,” he says, placing his hands on your hips to help you hop up.

Once you’re comfortable and resting in his arms he threads his fingers through yours, idly rubbing his thumb across your knuckles.

The sun, now hovering low on the horizon, casts long, dramatic shadows that dance across the landscape. The golden light bathes everything in a soft glow and the distant mountains are silhouetted against the radiant sky.

You stare out at the breathtaking scenery, but every time your eyes slide to Joel he’s looking at you.

Slowly he brings your hand to his lips, kissing your fingertips before releasing them and curling his arm around your waist to tuck you against his chest.

You push his hat off his head and run your hand through his hair then dance your fingers across his jaw and over his beard.

He closes his eyes and hums, leaning into your touch. His hand moves from your waist and he slips it under your top, rubbing softly and slowly, making the heat in your body build.

Your hand drops to the collar of his shirt then slides inside the open buttons, his skin warm and smooth. You move lower, popping open the next button, then lower to the next, revealing more of his skin.

“Darlin’” he murmurs, his lips pressing to your neck, lightly nibbling until they meet the shell of your ear.

With a shiver you hook your thigh over his, the thick muscle settling between your legs and creating the perfect friction as you shift against him.

He reaches forward with his thumb and sweeps it across your lips, leaning in to kiss you. At first it’s tender and soft but when his name falls from your lips, desperation in every syllable, he rolls over and covers your body with his, deepening the kiss until you’re a panting mess beneath him.

When he pulls away for air he rests his forehead to yours and squeezes his eyes shut.

“Fuck woman,” he groans as he pushes himself up and slides out of the back.

He extends his hand toward you. “Get in the truck. I’m taking you home.”

You crawl closer and grab the front of his shirt, dragging him back to you and chasing his lips.

“Nope. I can’t wait.”

“Darlin’,” he says softly, but it’s gritty with restraint. “I’m taking you home to bed like a proper fucking gentleman.”

Your hands slide up his chest and wrap around his neck so you can bring his mouth back to yours.

“Right now, I don’t want a proper gentleman,” you whisper along his lips. “I want you, Cowboy, fucking me in the bed of your truck, under the sunset.”

You slip from his grasp and lie back on the blanket invitingly. He sucks in a curse and stares, taking you in, the golden setting sunlight catching like little sparks across your skin, lighting you up like an angel.

With purposeful movements he charges back into the bed of the truck.

“You’re gonna miss one hell of spectacular sunset darlin’,” he simpers as he settles over you. “But I promise I’ll make up for it.”

@sstan-hoe @laineyreads @justkinsey @beccablogsthings @pedritosdarling @lorilane33 @blackwidownat2814 @littleseasiren​

[revserrayyu]

2.3 Penacony thoughts [part 3]

***SPOILER WARNING*** for the 2.3 story update for all the Charmony Festival cutscenes. At this moment in time I’ve already finished the whole story, so be wary that I may reference later scenes as I ramble on.

Could you imagine us traveling the universe on this luxurious ship instead of the Astral Express? I know that’s probably not the intention Robin had in mind upon gifting it to us, as I’m sure the ship can’t possibly leave the dreamscape anyways, but that’s all I could think about.

Now the whole bomb scare Sparkle sets up is.. weird. You knew it was coming because it was shown during the 2.3 trailer and all those self-destruct buttons she had passed out to everyone over the course of the whole Penacony story just had to be used at some point, but to have it all happen during the Charmony Festival, something we were all looking forward to experiencing from the very first moment we heard about this planet and to witness as to why it’s such a grand event, only for it to all be interrupted by a fool is kind of a let down to me? And yet.. it’s weird because it’s this whole panic inducing situation that I enjoyed the most during this part of the story..

First off, it gets everyone to participate in this crazy bomb hunt and help each other out, even characters who don’t know each other well enough or at all, which I love seeing. Secondly, Aventurine.. not everything has to be a gamble, sir! We know from his conversation with Boothill that he’s not even on the ship right now! He’s simply enjoying the chaos from the sidelines, which I suppose is fair because if I was taunted by Sparkle like he was during previous versions, I’d keep my distance too. And Ratio’s bare minimum reply and swift exit? Incredible. Go off king, way to give us nothing.

We’re all a bunch of losers I swear. What I find most amusing here is Black Swan also joining in with a simple “Haha.” I don’t know why but it seems so out of character for her and therefore hilarious. Also, is this woman even here? I know she has a tendency to show up whenever she pleases but is she actually on the ship lending us a hand or just joining in the fun like Aventurine? If it’s the latter and she’s laughing on the sidelines too, then that’s even funnier to me.

These messages reminds me so much of those fake ones I’ve seen people make with how random they could be, like I don’t even think Topaz even knows who Argenti is and yet they’re chatting like best buddies, ready to gossip about the wildest drama ever and I love it so much. Someone with talent please draw this for me.

Breaking news: Boothill turned into a doll. Not really, but hearing a doll say “fork you” along with every other silly attempt at swearing was quite alarming.

Once all the bombs are taken care of, the last one is of course found by Firefly as she goes off this ramble about what’s impossible and how we have to make our own choices based on what we feel in our hearts or else they’ll never happen and yeah.. it gets you thinking about all the things that have happened in our own lives and gives a sinking feeling that perhaps this girl won’t get a happy ending even if that’s what she’s striving so hard for.

Seeing Firefly take a bomb and fly high up in the trailer also gave strong implications that this was how she was going to experience her third and final “death” and I was honestly sort of dreading it. Yeah we still might be in the dreamscape but if this is supposed to be the last “death,” then I feared we’d return to reality and somehow find her.. you know, “not well” in the dream pool.

I love these shots we get of Firefly inside the SAM suit during the cutscene and how even they’re used during her combat and all the trailers she had as well. Heavens know why all the clothes disappear though upon the transformation.

Yo poor us.. we really thought this was going to be the end of our dear Firefly. We’re either in complete shock that she decided to go through with this decision with such certainty or we’re praying with all our might to whatever Aeon will hear us that she survives this. Or both. And honestly? Same. The music was starting to hit hard around here too huh?

For a brief moment they actually lead you to believe Firefly actually got blown up alongside the fireworks with how the explosion was times. As much as I enjoy these dazzling pyrotechnics in reality and in any sort of media, this is one show I wouldn’t be able to cheer loudly for. I can’t deny that it would’ve been such a memorable and powerful death scene though.

Then you got this little menace showing up again, having the audacity to skip so cheerfully up to us as if she’s done nothing wrong in her chaotic life while we’re over here just moments from bursting into tears (probably). 

Until she decides, hey, you really need to take a closer and WHAM! Knocks us overboard with that large hammer we saw in 2.0.. or the Black Swan and Sparkle companion mission, I forgot which.. regardless, it was so sudden I couldn’t help but laugh because girlie, what’s wrong with you??

BUT THEN we’re saved by a literal knight in shining armor! Well, not exactly Argenti with that kind of description, but it works with the way we’re getting princess carried!

Truthfully, I can’t be too mad at how hard they’re pushing the whole possible shipping agenda between the mc and Firefly because they look so darn happy to see each other during this moment, with us actually seeing her alive and Firefly still being alive herself. It’s a good moment for sure.

I mean.. okay, yeah, the hand holding and spinning among the many flashy fireworks feels very much like a shoujo moment, but again, I’m a sucker for fireworks, so I gotta admit it’s at the very least a pretty scene. We’re also sorta falling together so they gotta hold onto each other in some sort of fashion anyways, right?

We get quick glimpses of everyone during the show too, such our lovely family watching us free fall.. Hopefully they’ll save us in case a rogue firework gets too close to hitting us.

Unfortunately, I wasn’t quick enough to get my own screenshot of our IPC ladies sharing a drink but I’m such a fan.

Argenti, Boothill and Ratio.. now there’s a trio I’d never imagine spending time together, but just thinking about all the heartfelt words of praise, mild swearing and intellectual speeches that would result from such an occasion would be so entertaining to watch and I’m sad it couldn’t last longer. Not only because the scene switched to somewhere else, but also since Ratio was just about to leave. I doubt he would last long in the presence of these two dudes.

Hearing Robin’s new “Had I Not Seen the Sun” song during this whole scene truly helped bring out the emotions full force. That’s something I hope continues during future story arcs.. wonderful music. The game never misses with its awesome soundtrack, but songs with lyrics that will leave us in tears? Yes please.

You.. you magnificent and beautiful man. How I wish we could’ve seen you more during the finale! I really would’ve loved seeing all the IPC members working together.. I mean, technically they did, but seeing them all in one place would’ve been nice. Ah, I wonder if he could see the fireworks from all the way down there.. where Acheron nearly killed him.. at the park.. that I helped fix- wait a minute..?

I’m not even gonna question how Black Swan is in Golden Hour right now. She was participating in the texts during the bomb crisis so I’d just assume she was onboard the ship helping out, but with how easily this woman can appear and disappear in the blink of an eye, she could’ve very well took a drink and teleported herself to a much safer location. Regardless, I definitely need to pull for her on her rerun. I enjoyed her very much.

Yeah yeah, the ship vibes are as strong as ever here, I get it, Hoyo. Y’all know that typical romance scenario, where two people are looking at something breathtaking and one comments something along the lines of “it’s beautiful” and the second person agrees, only instead of taking in the pretty sight in front of them, they’re looking right at the other person instead? Yeah. That’s exactly this scene without words because despite all the flashy visuals and loudness of all the fireworks going off around her whilst falling from who knows high up in the sky, Firefly is solely focused on us while we’re just living in the moment. Again, I can’t complain too heavily. It really is stunning to see.. and if a friend I knew flew away with a bomb in order to save everyone and they actually came back alive, I’d probably hold their hand too.

By itself, I think 2.3 was okay, even with the lack of an epic boss battle or mind blowing, dramatic ending cutscene. I enjoyed exploring the new area and the many character interactions, but following everything that happened previously in the story, I feel like there’s a ton of questions I still have and so much more I’d like to see from certain characters.

Oh boy.. I still have all the stuff regarding Acheron and the goodbyes to chat about next. That’s gonna be emotional.