#day dream j hope

[thebookofbill]

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

HE’S FUCKING BACK

I CALLWD MY BEST FRIEND IMMEDIATELY TO SCREWM AND TELL HIM ABOUT IT. WE YAVE COLLECTIVELT PREORDERED ALL THREE AVAILABLE BERSIONS. I AM SO SOSP SO FUCKIMG EXCITED

[sincerely-sofie-shoebox]

Yee yee!! Honestly mood, I also grew up in a not very great place to make friends so having more is always such a nice feeling tbh

But yes, you're my bestie now, so says me

Getting promoted to One of Aria’s Besties and feeling like I need to write an award acceptance speech as a result rn

[myobsessionsspace]

ARMYPEDIA LIVE

Live performances of:

No More Dream

Just One Day

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[umareba]

accidentally stood up until 2 am making these

i love drawing my favourite characters

I don't know why i tried to remain unopinionated in a blog i made specifically to express opinion

[sinceileftyoublog]

Steve Wynn Interview: A Working Musician

Photo by Guy Kokken

BY JORDAN MAINZER

Make It Right (Fire) isn't your standard issue singer-songwriter record, even given the history of its creator, Steve Wynn, best known as the leader of legendary neo-psychedelic band The Dream Syndicate. Each song references, lyrically and/or aesthetically, something about Wynn's past, moments in his life and sounds he dived into throughout his long career. Peppy album opener "Santa Monica" is named after the city and boulevard where he was born. The drum machine-addled, deadpanned "What Were You Expecting" and slinky slow burn "Cherry Avenue" loosely connect with a time in his life where he was no longer bright-eyed and idealistic, learning the rules of a cynical world. The jangly "You're Halfway There" and proto-punk-funk of "Making Good On My Promises" soundtrack a perspective shift, where Wynn realizes that conquering antagonism can breed strength. "Scars, scars / I've got them pickled in a jar / Fables and warnings / I eat them for breakfast," he cheekily sings. The album ends with a strummed, yet distorted track named after where Wynn lives today: "Roosevelt Avenue". You can pick apart Wynn's life and point to exact moments where these songs might have taken place, but Wynn would rather you do something else. "You can just put on Make It Right and use it as the catalyst to create your own life story, dig into your own past," Wynn wrote in the album's bio. "It belongs to you now. Let it tell your own tale while I tell mine."

Really, if you want to know about Wynn's past, just pick up I Wouldn’t Say It If It Wasn’t True (Jawbone Press), his debut memoir, released in tandem with Make It Right. Though, according to Wynn, one is not needed to understand the other, it does make the exercise of not just breaking down Make It Right, but applying its lessons to your own life, a little easier. We might not all have grown up in Santa Monica, gone to a high school that produced members of Germs, had our band signed to a record label in our early 20's, and had said rapidly successful band break up in our late 20's. (That's where the book ends.) But we can all identify with having periods of our life that feel like a whole lifetime, followed by times of languishing. Really, it's not just Make It Right but Wynn's life, too, where we see ourselves.

Sunday, at the Hideout, Wynn will make a tour stop--that's a book and album tour--where he will play on acoustic guitar some tunes from Make It Right, Dream Syndicate songs, and other covers. He'll intersperse the performance with passages from I Wouldn’t Say It If It Wasn’t True. And he'll be joined by Eleventh Dream Day guitarist and vocalist Rick Rizzo, who will open the show, sometimes join Wynn in playing, and sometimes lead a Q&A session. Or, as Wynn put it to me over the phone last month, "asking me questions, calling my bullshit." Wynn's "foil for the evening" Rizzo was there for a lot of Wynn's stories, playing on the very song that inspired the book's name; he sounds like he'll be a proper, but friendly, antithesis.

Below, read my wide-ranging conversation with Wynn about his new album and book, his artistic process, and the difference between then and now when it comes to the music industry, scenes, and touring. One difference, according to Wynn, is that people plan far ahead now; Wynn let me know that the band's sophomore album Medicine Show will be reissued next summer! For now, immerse yourself in the world of Make It Right and I Wouldn’t Say It If It Wasn’t True. It won't feel like a lifetime.

Since I Left You: You released I Wouldn’t Say It If It Wasn’t True and Make It Right in tandem. You mentioned in the epilogue of the memoir that you got some external encouragement to write a book because Alex Abramovich liked what you had given him about The Velvet Underground for The New Yorker. The pandemic was as good as a time as any to start writing, but at what point did you realize you wanted to make a record alongside your memoir?

Steve Wynn: The whole time I was writing the book, which was over about 5 concentrated years, 10 years in total, I kept writing songs and recording material. When it came time to release the book, I thought it would be nice to have a solo record come out at the same time, just because I was gonna be touring the book. As much as I enjoy being an author, I'm primarily a musician. When I [looked at the songs] I had been working on, I realized they all completely reflected the memoir. Of course: I had been so immersed in writing about my life and things I had long since not thought about, the songs I was writing fit that same subject matter. I put [them] all together for a record that really fit the book. I contacted my label, Fire Records, and said, "Hey, I'm probably gonna press about 500 copies to have at shows," and they said, "It works as a cohesive, standalone record. We want to put it out."

SILY: When people read that the two are coming out at the same time, they might at first ask themselves to what extent the record is autobiographical. I like that you very much clarify that it's instead a parallel to your life, a collection of feelings rather than a collection of events.

SW: I always put my own feelings and emotions and judgements and takes on life in all of my songs, even if I'm writing about a baseball player or a killer or a character I read about somewhere. I still put my own stamp on it. On this record, most of the songs are about looking back on things that happened in your life, moments where you might have done something different, things you might regret. Time and time again, with all 10 songs, that's what's going on: "That's where I was, here's where I am now." That little path in between, would I change anything or just say, "Yep, that's what went down." That's me in all of the songs.

SILY: Sonically, the record seems to touch on different moments of your career, both with The Dream Syndicate and solo, and your different aesthetic inspirations. Was that a conscious decision?

SW: I don't think I thought about that much. The record [was made] in different sessions in different countries and with different musicians, [some songs] with longtime collaborators and some with people I had just met and said, "Let's try a song together." Like with every record, I went in and followed the other people in the studio, the songs, the mood at that point in my life, and what I was listening to, what it all pointed to. Even when I go into a record saying, "It's gonna be this kind of record," I roll with whatever happens.

There's a section in the book about jamming and how a lot of what I do is just respond to what's around me. That's my favorite thing and why I love new places on tour. I went on tour with The Dream Syndicate to play new songs [in preparation for] a record that became These Times, about six years ago. I was very influenced at the time by Donuts by J Dilla, which seemed very unlikely because of what I do. But I don't think it really was, because it's a record that has a psychedelic dream state collection of sampled music. It's someone saying, "This is my record collection processed through me." I thought it would be a fun thing to do in the studio, but by the time I got down to Virginia to do the record, with the other members of The Dream Syndicate, not only did it become a very different record, but they were the sessions that produced The Universe Inside. The surprises often outweigh what's premeditated. I'm fine with that.

SILY: In the book, you're very open about what songs in the past you've tried to rip off, because you think there's no way you'll get sued since the inspiration and your final product end up sounding nothing alike.

SW: [laughs] It's so true. If somebody says, "I love the reverb on that Yardbirds record," people now know how to get it. It used to be you didn't have a lot of choices or tools at your disposal to try to recreate something, so you'd get close to it. Now, you hear a record on Underground Garage on Sirius XM, and people have figured out how to do it. In my case, I loved this record by The English Beat, and [the song I made that was inspired by it] sounded nothing like that, becoming "Tell Me When It's Over". Before this book, I'd give $100 to any given audience member who could have [correctly] told me where I got the song from. I'd be saving my $100.

SILY: The book offers a window into your process without getting bogged down in it too much.

SW: I love stuff like that. A lot of books don't do that. I really try to do a fair amount of that in this book, and I could have done more. I really enjoy books where people talk about how they made the music. Not just, "I used this EQ setting," but where their mind was while they were getting there, why their favorite album became the way it was. Richard Hell writes about his sex life and psychological challenges: all great stuff. I chose to write about how I connected with music from age 4 as a fan to age 21 as a kid making his first record all the way through to the end of the book at age 28 when I became disenchanted and then regained the love for it once more. If I had to say the book is about something, it's about someone who loves music, embraces it, and gets lucky enough to make a career out of it.

SILY: Because a lot of the book takes place in and around L.A., every stranger you run into seems like a future star. One person turned out to be a young Hope Sandoval, and another "new band" you rejected for your label turned out to be the Pixies. Each reference one-ups the previous ones, and you can't help it, because that was the environment in which you grew up, and the time period seemed to be conducive to things like that happening.

SW: I think you're right. Most people who write a memoir who have "made it," you're going to run into people [in the book]. Most of my friends at this point in my life are other touring musicians. We can get together for dinner, like we did last night, and you're not trying to drop names, but the conversation is, "I ran into this guy." or "You know who I met last night?" It was a time where things were very innocent. You could meet Hope Sandoval as a 14-year-old kid star-struck at soundcheck who would later become frontperson of a great band. Even encountering Bono on that tour [where we opened for U2], we were all in our early 20's or younger, trying to figure it out. At the time, there wasn't as much of a developed scene for so many things that are taken for granted now. Before The Dream Syndicate, if you wanted to be a musician, if you wanted to pick up a guitar and make records, your goal was to be a star, to play the arena in town. There wasn't the idea, "All I want to do is make records and sell 2,000 copies, get some reviews, and be the coolest kid on the block." A lot of bands did that, like Big Star and The Modern Lovers, but that wasn't their goal. Even those bands thought, "Well, I'm on my way." Our generation, The Dream Syndicate and The Paisley Underground bands, was the first generation to say, "We'd like to make it, and it'd be fun, but we're emulating our other failed heroes." Some, despite that, made their way out of that. We did, kind of.

SILY: I always have to remind myself that a band's ascent and descent happens these days more gradually. Back then--and you give Creedence Clearwater Revival as an example in the book--not only were bands putting out multiple records a year, they were putting out multiple records a year we now consider all-time greats. The way the industry works now, with record release cycles, it seems like labels want to milk as much as they can out of one piece of music. A band that's been around for 20 years might only have 4 records.

SW: I find that to be not the case now. What you're describing was very much the case in the 80s, which I and so many musicians found frustrating. You'd make a record, and you were not expected to make one for another two years. What you're describing is probably true for the biggest artists, but what I really love these days is you can make 10 records a year if you feel like it, under different names and expectations. A band like Wilco can release albums, and Jeff Tweedy can make solo records and records with his sons at the same time. You can have your big label release and a record you put on Bandcamp. If somebody wanted to be the new Creedence, they could. They may not sell a million records, but who does these days? It's kind of come full circle to what it was before I was born, where the records are just something you use to get attention for your tour. That's okay, too, because I like touring. But yes, you do raise a good point: There were times when you were discouraged to be prolific. Now, if you want to be [prolific], knock yourself out.

SILY: Touring-wise, nowadays, you can still be the scrappy band coming up and playing for not a ton of money but touring cheaply. You can be an arena rock band, too, of course. But it seems like that mid-sized band, who might be signed to a major indie label, seems to have trouble staying afloat when it comes to touring, balancing their expenses with their revenue. In the book, you mentioned some touring struggles, too, playing to half-capacity crowds in rooms you sold out the prior year, perhaps due to oversaturation. What do you feel are the differences between touring then and now?

SW: There's a lot of truth to everything to you just said. We just had this meteoric rise, and before we knew it, we were on tour buses opening for two of the biggest rock bands in the world. I was staying in nice hotels and had a four-man crew catering my every need. I thought, "I guess this is how the world works." Luckily for us--even though it seemed unlucky at the time--we had a quick comedown after that. By age 25, I thought, "All I am is a working musician," and not in the way an arena rocker is. I learned early on that what I do is not that different from what John Lee Hooker did or what Dexter Gordon did, or all of these people who were not rock stars but jazz, blues, and folk stars. John Fahey went from gig to gig. Where it's all leading is two hours down the road where somebody is paying me $375 to play to 40 people, and I'm pretty damn happy about that, because that's the next stop. It's very rock and roll to say, "I'm building this," but we're working musicians. You hear people say, "Why is Bob Dylan touring? Doesn't he have enough money? Doesn't he want to take it easy?" No, because Bob Dylan is cut from the cloth of, "This is what I do. I play music for people and keep moving on. I'm a troubadour." I play in the band The Baseball Project with two people who don't need to tour, Mike Mills and Peter Buck, who have done very well for themselves with all the success they've gotten with R.E.M. They could live out their lives on some beach, but they love playing music. They love their friends and being on the road and having adventures. That's why they do it. For a lot of musicians like myself, that's more important than the end goal. My end goal is to continue to do it for the next 10 or 20 years. [That's] more important than strategizing.

SILY: I wanted to ask, since The Dream Syndicate and them seemed to have similar ascent and descent paths: Did you ever cross paths with Pylon?

SW: I was a big fan. In the days before The Dream Syndicate, I loved their first album and saw them at a club in Hollywood. I'm still a huge fan. I've met [vocalist] Vanessa [Briscoe Hay]; I wouldn't say I'm a friend. It's funny: These people were our heroes two years before we started, which at the time it seemed like they were so much older, like they'd been around. "We can only dream of some day living a life like Pylon or The Soft Boys." The next thing you know, you're playing the same clubs and talking about the same things in the bar after the shows. All roads lead to the same place.

SILY: In the book, you tell the story of when your 5th grade teacher told your class everyone was free to do whatever they wanted for 15 minutes, so you decided to mess with a classmate who was painting. Your teacher scolded you for using your freedom to stop your classmate from expressing his freedom. You write about how that interaction informed your philosophy on playing music, that there is a language and, if not a structure, a ways of working to jamming. Is that something you take in to every recording session, even on a record like Make It Right that's comprised of short pop songs?

SW: I try to. That [section on improvising] was the last thing I wrote for the book. I [included it] because it says a lot about what we did and still do. [The teacher's lesson] was a good lesson. As a bandleader, and I'm a bandleader to different extents, because The Baseball Project has 5 bandleaders and I'm kind of the bandleader of The Dream Syndicate--I get a lot of welcome pushback from my bandmates. I try to be energetic and excited about the idea I have and what I'm doing while realizing the people around me are musicians getting excited about what they're doing, too. If somebody's playing a beat or a riff or sound that rankles me, when is the right point to say, "That's not what I'm going for," or, "Maybe they have something going here I'm not quite understanding. I should give it a second."? Believe me, my wife and drummer, who is two rooms away right now, would say, "Steve, you do not [do that.]" It's such a hard thing and one of the hardest things in life, if you're in a relationship, in a band, or President of the United States, to say, "Thank you for all of the advice, but I've gotta do it my way." There's no right answer. You can point to 10 different instances in your life where you should have taken more control, and 10 more where you should have let up the control. We're always trying to figure that out.

SILY: In the bio for Make It Right, you encourage folks to use it as a launching point to tell their own story. In the book, you mention how much you loved Once Upon a Time in Hollywood... and felt it very much captured the essence of where you grew up. I know people who have seen that movie, who remember Sharon Tate's grisly murder and hate the liberties Quentin Tarantino took with the ending. Are you one who pays more attention to narrative in terms of a feel that a linear story?

SW: Sometimes, yes, sometimes, no. I like when a record or a song or a movie leaves a little room for you to find your way in. Sometimes, you can spell it out too much, and [as a member of the audience,] you think, "You did all the work, I have no place in this." Randy Newman writes minimal words to make his point, and you come out thinking, "Is that irony? Is that what he believes? Do I really understand this character?" I like a little mystery in the writing. I don't like fluffy nonsense impressionistic stuff from all of the people who thought they could be Bob Dylan in the 60's but are just [making] word salad of psychedelic terms. If you write something that makes just enough sense to give you an image but doesn't quite take you all the way there, that's exciting for me. My favorite things I've done are like that as well.

SILY: Your memoir doubles as a story of how a scene was born. Do you find yourself wanting to explore scenes of music these days?

SW: I don't think about it as much. It's really different now than the days of the Paisley Underground, British Invasion, or even punk rock. Even far into the grunge scene, we were still working separately. In the pre-Internet days, Seattle was one scene and New York was another scene. Now, in a city, there might be a bunch of bands who hang out, but we're all unified. You know everything and connect with everything. You can be Facebook friends with someone in Slovenia who shares your taste, start collaborating, and find out what's going on over there. I don't think "scene" means [what] it used to. If I hear a band I like today, if it's current, sometimes that's enough. The great thing about streaming or blogs or YouTube is you can keep digging as deep as you want. That's exciting.

It's easy to say things were better then for this reason, or 50 years ago, 30 years ago, 5 years ago. It's just different [now]. I wonder whether we'll talk about bands who have come up in the past 10 years, 50 years from now, the same way we talk about the bands from the 60's like the Kinks, or Television and The Clash. Will it have the same longevity? Maybe, maybe not. Even the big ones, like Taylor Swift. Will we in 50 years say, "She's 85, better than ever, singing all the great hits!"? Things seem a little more disposable now, but I shy away from saying that. [After all,] "Tell Me When It's Over" is a song about a 23-year-old saying to someone, "I don't need you to tell me how it was or how it is. I'll figure it out myself."

SILY: It can make you feel straight-up existential when you think about how today's bands will hold up in the future. The only sure answer is, ironically, that we don't know. Certain things can shift the cultural consciousness to the point where something you never thought would be long-lasting or influential turns out to be so. Anyone who says, "I always knew this band would get its flowers," is probably exaggerating.

SW: Big Star and The Velvet Underground are so fascinating. They weren't utter failures--they were more successful than people realize, as a touring band making records that didn't top the charts--but 50 years later, their music travels the world and is so beloved. If you're in your basement making music for 10 people on Bandcamp, you can say, "That will be me in 50 years," and maybe you will be. It's so hard to say, but it's great it can happen.

The one thing that's different is a certain type of music fan grew up in the glorious era of the 70's, 80's, and 90's where albums reigned supreme. The album was a great art form. This 45-minute thing, give or take a minute or two, was how we gauged great artistic achievement. We look at the Mount Rushmore records, the Exile on Main St.s, the Revolvers, the Blonde on Blondes, the Neverminds, the cherished great albums. [Like] before the 60s, [over] the last 10 years, albums [haven't mattered] as much. I wish they did, because it's a great art form, expressing a collection of songs. But I think we're back to the world where it's just a bunch of songs that show up on Spotify that make you happy for a few weeks. Maybe the next Jimi Hendrix will be a blogger. That's fine, too.

SILY: Recently, I interviewed a blues musician who said the sequencing of her records is not that important to her. She said, “But it’s important to me that they hear all the songs. They all fit on the record in some shape or form.” Pitchfork does a video feature where they ask musicians to name their Perfect 10 album, and a lot of them say, "It's great front to back, no skips!" Perhaps I'm an anomaly as a millennial, but I don't really skip songs on albums I don't like that much! I just listen through! It's what's intended. Even if I'm listening digitally, I think about it as if it's a record, where you can't just push a button to skip to the next song.

SW: Personally, when I hear an album, I still think about it in terms of side A and side B. I don't just think about sequencing, but I think about the spacing between the songs. When I go in to master a record, I don't want there to be a millimeter of a second too long. The space between song 1 and song 2 matters. If you're hearing an album as an album, that stuff matters. I'm a big movie fan. You know they're thinking about that stuff when they're making a movie. They cut the last 3 seconds off of a scene [to make it flow more.] That stuff matters. Whether it matters to a new generation, it may or may not, but it does to me. I'm making records for myself at this point, and luckily, enough people are along for the ride.

SILY: As much as I don't like to talk shit about Gen Z, because in many ways, they're the most tolerant, respectful generation yet, I saw the trend that some of them watch films sped up because their attention spans can't hold up.

SW: Wow. That's the first I've heard of that. The multi-tasking thing, "I'm gonna check my email, watch a movie, look at my phone every 10 seconds." It's just different. I don't want to make a judgement. When people get cynical or disdainful of a 7-year-old looking at the games on their iPad, I think, "Maybe we're just training a new era of humanity for what's next." Our great-grandparents had horses and buggies. We evolve. Maybe the way things are now is just part of the evolution. That's okay! Maybe there will be something fabulous. Maybe this is the next step to transporting into a new level of consciousness that will put us to shame. How do I know? It will be long after my time. I'm 64 now, and I think I've got hopefully a lot of years left of making records and not standing still. That's exciting. Maybe I'll make a record that will blow my current mind. That'll thrill me.

[yeah-thats-probably-it]

say what you like about having your vocabulary ruined by bertie wooster but at least whenever I'm indecisive from now on I'll always be able to say that I'm letting 'I dare not' wait upon 'I would' and make everyone think I'm cultured

[whumpy-wyrms]

hey guys

[lifestyle079]

Get investment for startup business

Every small business man wants to start business properly but for some reason they cant do properly here is those reason

[corinthianism]

corinthianism's fic recs

here are my personal favorite fanfics! idk how often i'll update this, but i hope you like them as much as i do :) *indicates smut

last updated: march 26, 2024

MARVEL

loki laufeyson - from the void, with love — by whirlybirbs (my fav fanfic of all time!!! i think about this fic several times in a day bro) - riptide — by starks-hero - the tailor* (series) — by birdofhermes (ao3) - time after time (series) — by goldencherriess (ao3) - a friend from work — by cozy_the_overlord (ao3)

thor odinson - god of fertility* (request) — by charnelhouse - highway don't care (but i do, i do)* (part one, part two, part three) — by spacelabrathor

peter parker (andrew garfield) - agree to disagree — by delicate-dorothea - nerdy peter (request) — by webslingingslasher - good boy x bad girl trope (request) — by webslingingslasher - hold you here, my loveliest friend* — by p3mybeloved - your friendly neighborhood sensitive spider* — by jin0 - glad you're home — by withahappyrefrain - the mechanics of a soul — by irndad - 3 is the magic number* — by withahappyrefrain - crush — by ptersparkers - as it goes — by forever-rogue - here comes the sun (part one, part two, part three) — by withahappyrefrain - stability, reciprocity, and a romance for the ages (series) — by privateanxieties (ao3 - need an account to read)

steven grant (moon knight) - hold me close — by stormkobra-5 - gift of min* — by astroboots - puzzles* — by stormkobra-5 - first time* — by luvpedropascal - domestic adonis* — by peterman-spideyparker - where it starts — by silversweetpea - fallen from heaven, grown on earth* (series) — by davosmymaster (ao3) - call me poe* — by kittyfandom (ao3) - elemental — by batsingotham (ao3) - the boy with the thorn in his side — by eating_flowers (ao3)

marc spector (moon knight) - not him — by loud-mouth-loser - it's worth it, it's divine* — by the-archxr - i'm getting to know someone — by davosmymaster (ao3)

wade wilson (deadpool) - tea and sympathy (series) — by bucketsoffrogs (ao3)

SHERLOCK (BBC)

sherlock holmes - your hidden strength — by okay-j-hannah - sublime dexterity* (part one, part two) — by daydreamtofiction - literally everything by starks-hero

SUPERNATURAL

sam winchester - playing house (part one, part two) — by uncouth-the-fifth - baby i'll stay (heaven can wait) — by uncouth-the-fifth - move over.* — by ggwritesstuff - where's your head at?* — by beau55515 - birthdays: sam winchester style* — by karleekarma (ao3) - the comforts of home — by zepskies - under the hood* — by shawslut

dean winchester - whether you like it or not — by kbeautimous (ao3) - reading you wrong — by zepskies - cherished — by thatonewriter15 (ao3) - soft touch — by wearywinchester - i love her, that's why* — by kaleldobrev - drivin' me crazy* — by lis-likes-fics

castiel - salt n' lick* — by aperfectgrace (ao3) - a bite of apple pie (series) — by ac_deanc (ao3)

THE SANDMAN

the corinthian - bring me a dream* (series, ongoing) — by placeinthemiddleofnowhere - nihil — by lis-likes-fics

dream/morpheus - sweet dreams (are made of this) — by stranger-nightmare

CRIMINAL MINDS

aaron hotchner - from eden — by heliotropehotch - gold star — by honeypiehotchner - love, an abstract concept — by luveline - honeymoon phase* (series) — by hotchsbitch (ao3)

THE BOYS

soldier boy (he's absolutely horrible but so. so. hot.) - break me down* (series) — by zepskies (go read their other stuff too!) - talk to me — by zepskies

homelander (also absolutely horrible. would sleep with him.) - if i can't have you — by watchstarscollide - milky white* — by after-witch

GAME OF THRONES

jaime lannister - i'm not made by design — by ichorai (this legitimately changed my brain chemistry)

STAR WARS

obi-wan kenobi - like turning on the light* — by full-time-make-believer (deactivated acc) (this also changed the trajectory of my life) - where it wasn't* — by 221bshrlocked - your thoughts are loud — by spidersbane - empty me out* — by 221bshrlocked - house of memories* (series) — by meshlasolus - bad idea, right?* (series) — by mischiefling (ao3) - you make me feel like dancing — by saradika (ao3) - it's a wonderful lie — by firstofficerwiggles (ao3) - temptation's kiss — by karasong (ao3) - you make my dreams* — by wickedscribbles (ao3) - like a living mirage — by karasong (ao3) - broken drought* — by rosalindbeatrice (ao3) - never grow up — by doihavetoloseyoutoo (ao3) - never ending story — by kybercrystal (ao3) - volveré* — by kxnobi (ao3)

din djarin (the mandalorian) - the savior* (part one, part two, part three) — by dindjiarin - significant — by softlyspector - touching din — by archieimagines - uncharted territory* — by pedrito-friskito - creed* — by wheresarizona - home is wherever i'm with you* (part one, part two, part three) — by saradika

DRACULA (BBC)

count dracula - the székely* (series) — by theplumsoldier

LOTR/THE HOBBIT

thranduil oropherion - a boon* (series) — by inksplots (ao3) - beauty and the beast (series) — by tamurilofrivendell (ao3)

DOCTOR SLEEP

dan torrance - of monsters and men* — by helaintoloki & obitwo - domestic life (headcanons) — by thornsinmycrown - smut alphabet* — by daincrediblegg

[teapartyprincess4two]

Hi

Can i ask for a johnnie guilbert x reader where the reader is a friend of tara who is a very private person, so she gets know in the channel as "baby" and people start to notice that johnnie gets shy and is always looking somewhere off camera (to her)

A LOTTTT of pinning by johnnie (like so much it hurts)

And maybe at the end he confesses she kisses him and a lil sum-sum 😏

Thank uuuuu 😘

Babygirl- J. Guilbert

pairing: shy!reader x Johnnie

classification: fluff

warning: use of y/n, slight cursing, slow build up, Jake and Tara are dating in this, suggestive content but NO smut, very long

inspiration: request^^, Deaf, Mute, and Blind Baking, Becoming Tara Yummy for a Day

summary: You didn’t choose a life in the limelight, you were just famous by association, and now you’ve earned yourself the nickname “babygirl” by the entire internet.

—

Most people wish they had the fame you had, they spend their entire life reaching for an unattainable dream that fell in your lap by coincidence. They wish for the fancy cars, the expensive clothes, and especially to be so famous they’re stopped by fans on the street for a picture.

Tara, your best friend, was one of those people. She spent her childhood and teenage years fangirling over pop stars and YouTubers, hoping that one day people would be fangirling over her too. She worked hard to earn the platform she has today, bringing you along with her to the top. But you never asked for any of this.

At first her newfound fame didn’t affect you, you were just a recurring background character in her videos and would sometimes, but very rarely, have a main role in them. Although you tried remaining in the background, the internet is quick to get attached to shy, background characters and before you knew it the fans were begging for more content with you.

So now you and Tara are a well known YouTube duo and you’re featured in almost every one of her videos, most of the time opting to participate from behind the camera. You especially remain behind the scenes when Jake and Johnnie are involved, specifically because you’re never able to hide your crush on Johnnie and would probably die from embarrassment if the fans caught on.

Like today for example, Jake and Johnnie are over at your house filming. They’re filming a video they’ve filmed many times before, they’re turning Tara emo. The three of them are piled onto the couch, discussing topic after topic as Johnnie packs on black eyeshadow on Tara’s eyes.

“Ow, Johnnie. You’re hurting me!” she squeals as Johnnie accidentally pokes her in the eye with the bristles of the brush. You can’t help but giggle from behind the camera, watching as Johnnie becomes flustered. “Sorry! I only ever do my own makeup, okay?” he apologizes, not becoming any more gentle with his motions. Johnnie glances at you quickly, a smile forming on his face because of your laughter.

“Why are you laughing, Y/n? You’re next,” Jake chimes in, following his statement with a boisterous laugh. Your face flushes slightly as you reply with a laugh, “no I’d prefer not to be tortured.” Johnnie laughs at this, sending you a fake pout, “you hate my look that much?”

Your face becomes even more red, if that was even possible. You didn’t mean the comment like that. Tara, whose face is being attacked with makeup, chimes in, “No, Y/n is too babygirl for this.”

“Oh God, you’re making me sound so high maintenance,” you laugh, shaking your head in disbelief at Tara’s comment. “It’s true though!” she exclaims, turning to face you just as Johnnie begins applying eyeliner, causing a black streak to run from the corner of her eye to her hairline.

“Guys, Y/n is probably the most high maintenance out of the four of us. She gets a manicure exactly every two weeks, she gets her hair redyed like once a month, her room is NEVER dirty. She almost never ever has dirty laundry, AND she irons her clothes. Who irons their clothes?” Tara exclaims, flailing her arms in the air dramatically.

“So yes, she’s babygirl,” Tara’s talking to the camera now, completely oblivious to her appearance. You scrunch your name at the nickname, the internet tended to latch onto things like that, “First of all, you look ridiculous right now. And secondly, don’t call me that. I don’t need to be known as ‘babygirl’ for the rest of my life,” you reply, laughing as Johnnie tries to fix his mistake but fails.

Jake, who’s sitting on the couch next to Johnnie, straightens up and leans forward to look at Tara. He immediately laughs at the sight, the black eyeliner smudged all over her face. “You’re just mad that it has a nice ring to it,” Tara retorts, choosing to ignore the mess Johnnie made. You scoff, glad that the camera isn’t on you to catch how your eyes train on Johnnie.

“Okay, but doesn’t it sound cute?” Tara proposes the question to the boys, waiting expectantly for them to answer. Jake was always quick to agree with her, it was a trait she trained him to have over the years of their relationship, “yeah, it’s pretty cute.” Tara nods her head in triumph, turning to Johnnie for his response.

Johnnie doesn’t know what to say, he agrees that the nickname is cute, but he’s afraid he’ll say too much and expose his crush for you. “Johnnie?” Tara says, widening her eyes as she awaits his response.

“What was the nickname again?” Johnnie asks, trying to act casual. But if the cameras zoomed in they’d easily catch how his hands tremble as he fixes Tara’s eyeliner. “Babygirl?” he reiterates, attempting to sound confused and oblivious. Tara nods her head, causing Johnnie to mess up once again, but he’s too busy trying to keep his composure to care.

Coming from him the nickname doesn’t sound so bad, it actually makes you want to take back everything you just said. “Babygirl is cute,” he murmurs, sending you a small glance before quickly turning back towards Tara. You hide your face in your hands, trying to hide your flushed cheeks and the smile that won’t go away no matter how hard you try.

“Enough with the babygirl talk,” you groan, but you really loved hearing him say it.

—

From that moment on, you were known as babygirl within the fandom. You couldn’t escape the nickname no matter how hard you tried, and the fans loved teasing you about it. Whether it be through edits, Instagram comments, or tweets; the fans were always calling you the nickname.

Johnnie, Jake and Tara are currently filming yet another video, despite your protests. The three of them are standing behind the kitchen counter, with either tape on their mouths, earmuffs on, or blindfolded. They were trying to bake a cake, something they struggled to do even without the inhibiting factors, so all they were really doing was making a big mess.

They understand your hesitance with being on camera, so they never force you to make any special appearances, but you still loved to watch. You sit behind the counter, just out of view of the camera, watching in amusement as the three interact.

Johnnie keeps getting distracted by you, fumbling and stuttering his way through the intro. You watch as Johnnie struggles to find the supplies needed for the video, searching through every cabinet in the kitchen. “Every time Johnnie says he’s ready, he’s never ready,” Jake comments, adjusting the black beanie on his head. “Where the fuck did I put it? No, Jake where did you put it?” Johnnie replies, scavenging for the baking supplies.

“They’re in the pantry,” you comment, walking over to Johnnie briefly and guiding him towards the pantry. Johnnie smiles at you, grateful that there’s at least one sane person here to help him. The interaction was caught on camera, but you were too distracted to realize.

“Thanks babygirl,” Tara exclaims, bopping her head to the music blasting through her headphones. You roll your eyes, helping Johnnie take everything out of the grocery bags and sprawling them out onto the counter. Once everything is in order, Johnnie’s mouth is quickly covered with a sticker, but he’s happy he isn’t blindfolded because he can keep sneaking glances at you.

The entire situation was chaotic, none of them had any clue how to communicate properly and they had less knowledge on how to bake a cake. Jake’s arms were stretched forward as he tried finding his way through the kitchen, Tara’s loud singing making it hard for them to concentrate on one task alone.

Tara, who wore the headphones, was more focused on singing than the cake. You watch them intently, unable to stop yourself from laughing, “you need to whisk the cake!” Tara, who can’t hear a single thing you’re saying, repeats your statement causing you to burst into laughter.

Johnnie pulls out a plastic butter knife, deeming it appropriate for the task. “Get the beater!” Tara yells, following it by belting out song lyrics. Johnnie has no idea what Tara is talking about, so he sends you a pleading look. If there’s anyone here who’s going to help him finish this cake, it’s you.

“The whisk, get the whisk!” you exclaim, trying to talk over Tara’s singing as best as possible.

“What’s going on?!” Jake asks, one of his flailing arms slapping both Johnnie and Tara. Johnnie’s laughs are muffled by the sticker as he holds the whisk out for Jake, guiding him to the bowl.

“Babygirl?!” Tara is being so loud, her voice a good three octaves higher than normal. “Stop yelling!” you exclaim, but she ignores you and changes the song, continuing to belt out the lyrics.

“Y/n, we need your help,” Jake comments, stirring the bowl so aggressively that it was twirling. “We have no idea what we’re doing,” he continues, lifting the whisk up and blindly taking a lick.

“JAKE DON’T LICK IT!” Tara yells.

Johnnie’s laughter and shocked scream are muffled, his face scrunched up as he laughs uncontrollably, and you can’t look away. You wish you weren’t so shy, so that way you’d be able to join them in this fun activity without feeling anxious.

“This cake is going to be so bad,” you chuckle, catching Johnnie’s attention. His eyes linger on you for a little too long, a moment the fans were definitely going to clip and edit.

“What did you say?! Did you say my singing is bad?!” Tara is still yelling, following each and every statement with loud singing.

Many dirty dishes and a messy kitchen later, the cake is finally done. The oven rings throughout the kitchen, and Jake and Tara send Johnnie to fish the hot pan out. The cake didn’t look too bad, but considering you watched them make it, you weren’t too excited to actually try it.

“You have to wait until it cools to frost it!” Tara exclaims, the headphones causing her volume to be more than pleasant. Johnnie can’t respond because of the sticker, and he doesn’t want to wait for it to cool, so he continues haphazardly spreading the icing over the camera. Jake, on the other hand, is in his own world.

“That actually looks disgusting. It’s raw,” you gasp, watching as Johnnie lifts the spatula to reveal an uncooked, watery mess. “It’s undercooked!” Tara yells, her inability to hear you causing her to repeat everything you say in different words.

Johnnie’s muffled laughter is infectious, earning a string of laughter from you. “Let’s just eat it,” Jake suggests, facing the complete opposite direction of the group. The beanie on his head inhibits him from seeing the state of the cake, but even if he could see it, he would probably still ask for a bite.

“Wait let me help,” you get up from your seat and walk behind the countertop, immediately searching for something to serve the cake in. “This is gonna have to do it,” you hand Johnnie three plastic cups. He scoops up the raw batter, the liquid cake jiggling in the cup and running down the sides, immediately coating his fingers in frosting and batter.

“We’re gonna get salmonella,” Tara is staring at the goopy mess in shock, how had they managed to mess up such a simple recipe?

“I wanna see… I think we should take this off,” Jake yanks his beanie off, a fit of laughter attacking him as soon as he sees the state of the cake. Tara was subconsciously poking at it, creating a big hole in the center. Johnnie’s hands were full of chocolate frosting, and he held them up in exasperation as he waited for someone to remove the sticker from his mouth.

“Here lemme help you,” you murmur, gentle hands removing the sticker. Your touch lingers a little too long, but he doesn’t complain. If he had it his way, you’d have your arms around his neck and his lips would be on yours.

“Thanks, babygirl,” he whispers in return, loving how easily the nickname riled you up. You hated how much you loved hearing him say it.

“This is actually not that bad!” Tara’s boisterous voice breaks you two from the intimate moment, forcing you to reenter reality. “Try it,” Jake suggests, going back for a second scoop.

Johnnie is hesitant, but he grabs the cup and puts a spoonful of the raw cake batter in his mouth. His face contorts in disgust, but it couldn’t be that bad, could it? “Here let me try,” you take the cup from him, using his spoon to take your own bite.

As soon as the cake hits your tongue, you’re gagging. “Oh wow this is horrible,” you say, fighting the urge to throw up. They’re all laughing at your reaction, Jake pulling a long hair from his mouth in the process. “I love this hair, adds flavor.”

“Oh my God, I’m gonna throw up,” the hair Jake held between his fingers was only making the situation worse for you.

“See, she’s so babygirl,” Tara laughs, joking about the situation even if she found it equally as gross.

—

It seemed like your friends were always filming because every time the four of you hung out there always seemed to be a camera lurking not too far. Like today for example, Tara gathered everyone for a casual hangout, but once you arrived she explained that everyone was going to be living like her for the day. At first, you declined her invitation, making a lame excuse about not feeling good. But she begged and begged for you to be in the video, and before you knew it you were an integral part of it.

“Okay, since you guys are becoming me for the day, it’s only fitting that you dress the part. So, put on these track suits,” Tara says as she hands you, Jake, and Johnnie each a pink track suit. You’re trying to hide from the camera as much as possible, but Tara keeps pulling you back in every time you almost wander away.

The three of you shimmy into the outfits, immediately feeling the Tara Yummy essence wash over you.

“This is sexy,” Jake comments, admiring his figure as the sweatpants hang loosely from his hips. “I’m serving cunt,” Johnnie says, joining Jake in admiring himself. Their tattoos peeked through, contrasting the pink outfits entirely.

You emerge from the hallway seconds later, the track suit providing you with a newfound confidence, “I feel so stupid, but I also kinda feel like that bitch.” You stand still, allowing the camera to pan to you before hitting a dramatic pose. You turn around to show the camera the backside of the suit, the word babygirl written in curly white letters across your ass. “Slay, babygirl, slay,” Tara chimes in, strutting over to you and hitting the same pose.

“Let’s please not start with the babygirl jokes,” you groan jokingly, adjusting the sweatpants that kept riding up, you were starting to get a wedge. But you knew you weren’t going to escape the babygirl comments today, especially not with it written across your backside. It was like a label that you were forced to wear for the rest of the day, and the fans would surely seize the opportunity and run with it. To top it all off, the four of you were so well color coordinated that you looked like a 90’s girl group, ready to perform on stage at any moment.

“This is fun, but I still don’t understand why I’m being forced to do this,” you say, staring at Tara blankly.

“Because you’re my best friend,” she replies cheerily, offering you a big smile and booping your nose. It was hard to stay mad at her. She walks away, joining Jake as they engage in conversation.

“And you’re babygirl,” Johnnie teases, coming up from behind you unexpectedly, immediately causing a blush to form on your face. He loved watching you get flustered over the nickname. He laughs at your reactions, relishing every bit of it.

“Alright, first things first, time to eat. Mama’s hungry,” Tara says, ignoring yours and Johnnie’s interaction before facing the camera and leading everyone to the car. Jake and Tara are far ahead, leaving you and Johnnie to trail behind.

“It’s gonna be leaves,” Johnnie whispers to you, earning a laugh in response. He loved making you laugh. “Yeah, how much you wanna bet we end up at Health Nut?” you ask, settling the bet with a firm handshake between you and Johnnie. His hand holds a firm grip on yours, almost like he’s hesitant to let go as he says goofily, “$2, take it or leave it.”

As predicted, the four of you end up at Tara’s favorite restaurant; Health Nut. It’s no one else’s restaurant of choice, but you’re living as Tara for the day so it doesn’t matter what the rest of you want. You’ve been here with Tara enough to be familiar with the menu, so you order a simple salad and drink before moving to the side and allowing Johnnie to order. Once he’s finished ordering, he pays for your meals before letting Jake and Tara order.

Johnnie is playing it up for the cameras, trying to embarrass himself with his actions before the pink track suit does it for him. He’s sitting on a toddler chair and you stand next to him, choosing him as your comfort zone.

Because you always opted to remain behind the scenes, most of the viewers weren’t completely aware of yours and Johnnie’s dynamic. You two were always clinging to each other in uncomfortable or unfamiliar situations, making quiet jokes to make the other laugh. You both also had a huge crush on each other, which further served as a gravitational pull.

“Order for… babygirl?” the employee calls out, a hint of confusion in their voice as they read the name on the order. This immediately causes you to laugh out loud. “You did not do that,” you whisper shout at Johnnie, who held his hands up in feigned defense as he tries not to burst into laughter. You awkwardly grab the food, both of youwalking over to Tara and Jake’s table.

“Did they just call you babygirl?” Tara asks as soon as you’re sitting down. “Yes dude, fucking Johnnie told them that was my name,” you laugh, hiding your red face in your hands. They call out Tara’s name and she dismisses herself briefly to pick up the food.

“Let’s go!” She exclaims from the restaurant’s front door, bag and drink in hand as she pushes the door open and walks outside. “Oh, I guess Tara Yummy eats in the car,” Jake says sarcastically, the three of you following Tara to the car.

Once you’re in the car, you and Johnnie sit in the backseat while Jake and Tara occupy the front. “I wanted to eat in there, but you guys are so embarrassing,” Tara says, handing Jake his food.

She doesn’t give any of you enough time to respond, “you guys are already pretty embarrassing, but the pink track suits make us all look genuinely crazy.” She’s obnoxiously shaking her salad from the front seat, causing the entire car to rock.

“Damn, don’t gotta put your whole pussy into it,” Jake laughs, earning a sly remark from Tara. Soon, they’re lost in a conversation of their own, leaving you and Johnnie to talk quietly in the back seat.

“Why do you keep pushing this ‘babygirl agenda,’ sir?” You ask, both in true curiosity and to make light of the nickname. He blushes, mindlessly picking at the salad in front of him.

“Oh come on, don’t get all shy now,” you tease, piling up a good bite on your fork. He smiles at you awkwardly, preparing to admit something embarrassing.

“I think it’s kinda cute,” he admits with a shrug, taking a big bite of his food. Your eyes blow open in shock, this whole time you thought he was teasing you, but now it turns out he thinks it’s a cute nickname? “Don’t make fun of me,” Johnnie pleads in defense through a mouthful of food.

“I’m not, I just wasn’t expecting that,” you respond, trying not to be too loud. You couldn’t help it though, your giggles were soon filling the backseat. There was something about the confession that gave you hope that maybe you and Johnnie could be more than just friends. But you don’t want to get your hopes up, ir could easily all be for the video. You’re about to say something crazy and bold, but you’re cut off by Tara.

“Are you two done flirting? Cause I’m in the mood for coffee.” Leave it to her to ruin a sweet moment.

—

The day is finally over and the four of you are now wearing pajamas, reminiscing on the day’s events. Tara and Jake leave once the video is over, leaving you and Johnnie to lay on the large couch. The room is silent, but it’s not awkward, you’re both just catching up and joking.

“I was serious earlier, by the way,” he murmurs, staring at the ceiling above. “Yeah?” you say in a teasing tone, rolling over on your side so you’re facing him.

He takes a deep breath before continuing, “Yeah. If I’m being honest, I’ve had a crush on you for a long time. I’m surprised you haven’t noticed, I mean the fans definitely have.” You mindlessly play with the strings of your robe, subconsciously scooting closer to him.

“So that’s why you keep calling me babygirl?”

“Mmm yeah, mostly. I think it sounds cute,” he smiles down at you, your figure just slightly further down the couch. You feel a surge of confidence wash over you, something you don’t usually feel as a shy person, and straddle his lap.

He looks at you in shock, both arms limp at his sides. “Say it,” you whisper, moving your face dangerously closer to his. You use your hands to grab his, placing them on your waist. He feels excited, nervous, and shocked all at the same time, was this really happening?

You grind your hips down onto him, hoping to elicit a response from him. “Babygirl,” he whimpers, the sudden friction sending a shiver up his spine that has his hips bucking. You hum in response, finally inching close enough to connect your lips to his.

You’re in a heated make out session, completely obvious to the world around you. Johnnie’s hands are roaming your body, your hips are grinding down onto him, and your fingers are tangled in his hair. You kiss from his lips down to his neck, sucking and biting the delicious skin until you leave a hickey.

The situation is about to escalate, but Jake and Tara interrupt before it can. They saunter in loudly, both you and Johnnie jumping off of each other in shock.

“About damn time!” Jake says, applauding you both for finally make a move on each other. “Get it babygirl!” Tara laughs, joining Jake in his obnoxious round of applause.

“So annoying,” you groan, throwing a pillow at them and shooing them out. Once they’re out of the room, you and Johnnie share a sheepish look.

“You’re never escaping that nickname,” he chuckles, silently pulling you back on top of him. “That’s okay. If you’re the one saying it, I don’t mind,” you murmur, kissing him again.

“Okay, babygirl.”

—

MASTERLIST

a/n: Such a good request, I LUV being challenged with these specific requests!!! Hope I did it justice bby, I rewrote this like 5 times & had a different storyline each time. Also, I mentioned the famous hickey (💀💀) and I changed it from “baby” to “babygirl” because he mentioned that he’s “so babygirl” on Trisha’s podcast.

anyways, enjoy hunny bunches. Luv uuuuu

-L.A.M.B👼🏻💗

—

taglist: @nicksmainbitch @sturniololovers @mayhem-72 @worldlxvlys @gnxosblog @meg-sturniolo @creamoncreamoncream2 @mattnchrisworld @sanyi5 @lustfulslxt @whicked-hazlatwhore @tworosesblackthorn @mxqdii @fawned01

note: if you want to be tagged in my fanfic related posts, you can access my TAGLIST and comment 💐

note: requests are open, I will be writing as many as possible because you guys have sooo many good ideas. Please be patient 💗✨

[lyvhie]

hi!! I read your nct dream x reader who's shy during sex and as a haechan bias UGH. I busted. /j but fr, I need to see more on meanie haechan x shy reader, any thoughts?? :3

on my terms | lee donghyuck

lee haechan x fem!reader (18+ mdni) ꒰ summary ꒱ haechan likes to have fun with you. ꒰ a/n ꒱ HIIIII ANON!! ok, so, um, i'm also totally in love (obsessed) with haechan and, haha, this was supposed to be super short, but i kinda got a little carried away oops! BUT I HOPE YOU ENJOY!! ꒰ cw ꒱ smut, fingering, mirror sex, praise, edging, pet names (baby, pretty girl, love, good girl).

haechan would have the time of his life with a shy girlfriend, teasing you would be his favorite pastime. a simple kiss, whether in public or private, would be enough to make you crumble, burying your face in his chest as if that could somehow make you invisible, sex wouldn't be any different.

what he enjoyed most, though, was the process of getting you there. he'd spend the entire day building anticipation, teasing you at every opportunity. his kisses would linger just a little longer, his tongue brushing against yours with a tenderness that felt almost deliberate, as though he were savoring you. his hands would explore your body in the same slow, calculated way, teasing the hem of your shirt before slipping beneath it to let his fingertips graze your warm skin, sending shivers through you. then, they'd trail down your thighs, lingering close enough to your core to drive you wild, but soon withdrawing it.

just that, and he already had you in the palm of his hand. it wouldn't take long before you found yourself subtly grinding against his thigh while cuddling, trying to play it off as innocent but failing miserably. you wanted him to notice your desires, yet you were far too embarrassed to openly admit it. of course, he was fully aware of what you were doing, he always was. after all, he'd orchestrated the entire situation. but he loved to pretend he was engrossed in the boring movie playing on the screen, just to see how long you'd last before finally breaking and telling him what you wanted.

occasionally, he'd shift his leg ever so slightly, pretending it was just to get comfortable, but it would send a jolt through you, making your breath hitch. he'd smirk to himself, knowing exactly what he was doing.

finally, when you couldn't stand it anymore, you'd whisper his name, your voice shaky and almost inaudible. "hyuck...” he'd hum in response, his gaze still fixed on the screen as though he hadn't noticed the way your hands gripped his shirt or the way your breath grew uneven. "what is it, baby?" his tone was casual, teasing, as if he didn't have you squirming in his lap.

you'd hesitate, biting your lip, unsure of how to put your thoughts into words. he'd shift his attention to you, finally locking eyes with you. "do you need something, pretty?" his voice low and dripping with amusement as his hands rested lightly on your hips, fingers teasingly brushing your skin. "or were you just planning to keep using my thigh like that?"

his words would make you freeze, your face now fully buried in his chest to hide yourself. his hand would tilt your chin up gently, forcing you to meet his gaze. “c'mon," he'd coax, his lips brushing yours in the softest tease. "you've been so bold all night... don't get shy on me now.”

you knew he wouldn't give you what you wanted unless you said it out loud, but the thought of voicing your need felt impossible. still, a small part of you hoped he'd have mercy this time and let you off the hook. "fine, baby," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek, his tone mockingly sweet. "since you won't tell me, you can keep using me like you were. but don't expect me to help."

his words sent a jolt through you, and you instinctively clutched at his shirt, your grip tight as you leaned closer. "n-no, hyuck, please!" you blurted out, your voice trembling.

“oh? are you this desperate, my love?” he murmured, his voice dripping with the same mock affection as his hand cupped your face, his thumb gently caressing your cheek. you felt a pang of embarrassment at the way he worded it. “just tell me what you want, and i’ll give it to you, hm?” he coaxed, his tone soft, almost soothing, yet laced with that familiar teasing edge that always left you reeling.

his proximity, his touch, his voice—it was all too much, and yet not enough. a small pout curled on your lips as you looked at him with wide, pleading eyes, but it did nothing to unsettle him, despite the way it made his heart race.

you parted your trembling lips, finally gathering the courage to voice your need. "i... i want you," you whispered, squeezing your eyes shut as the words left your mouth. they weren't explicit, nor were they clear, but they were the most you could manage in that moment.

donghyuck couldn't help but grin at the sight. god, you were so adorable. "see? was that so hard?" he teased, leaning in to place a soft kiss on your lips. the simple gesture did wonders to ease your nerves, reassuring you that he was pleased with your request and didn't expect more. his hands moved to your thighs, gently tracing the inner side until his fingers brushed against your clothed center, causing you to gasp. "if my babe wants me so badly, who am i to say no?”

and just when you thought things would turn tender, that he might finally give you what you craved, you were met with a cruel twist, exactly as haechan liked.

"look at this," he cooed into your ear, his tone dripping with mockery. "you're such a mess, love."

he wasn't wrong. your reflection in the mirror said it all—disheveled hair, tear-streaked cheeks, and trembling body laid bare in his control. behind you, his chest pressed firmly against your back as his fingers slid torturously slow along the slick, swollen slit of your cunt. his hand glistened with your arousal, a damning evidence of how much you wanted him, even as your weak moans turned into frustrated whimpers.

his fingers teased your entrance but never dipped inside, never gave you the satisfaction you so desperately craved. your legs shook from the strain of being spread so widely, the position leaving you completely exposed to both him and the mirror. every movement, every reaction, was laid bare for his hungry eyes. and still, all he did was edge you, over and over again, driving you to the brink before cruelly pulling back.

your head fell back against his shoulder, seeking some reprieve, but his hand quickly found your chin, gripping it firmly and guiding your gaze back to the mirror. "eyes here," he commanded, his voice low and sharp as his dark eyes met yours in the reflection. "you keep looking away, that's why i can't make you feel good, princess," a shiver ran through you as his lips brushed against your neck, nibbling softly before soothing the spot with a tender kiss. "if you keep your eyes here," he murmured, his voice almost sweet, "i promise i'll let you finish, hm? do we have a deal?”

you nodded desperately, your eyes wide and pleading as they stayed locked on the mirror, his grin widened, his satisfaction evident. it was almost humiliating-there you were, utterly bare before him, your body trembling with need, while he remained fully clothed, looking effortlessly composed. you felt so exposed, so vulnerable, more than you ever thought possible.

"that's it, baby," he cooed, his voice dripping with approval as his hand trailed down your body. his fingers found your folds, parting them slowly, deliberately, to showcase your dripping, swollen cunt in the reflection. "look at this," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. “so beautiful, and all of it just for me, my love."

he kept you spread open, his other arm wrapped around your waist to keep you steady as a single finger traced up your slick slit, gathering your arousal. the soft glide sent a tremor through your body, a broken moan falling from your lips.

"you see that?" he teased, his gaze flickering between your reflection and the mess between your legs. "this perfect little pussy is calling for me, listen to these lewd sounds,” he hummed in approval.

you might've wanted to crawl out of your skin from the vulnerability of it all if it weren't for the intoxicating pleasure he was finally granting you. after craving him the entire day, every small touch he gave your core felt like salvation. haechan's satisfied smile deepened when you kept your gaze fixed on the mirror, obediently following his instructions. it seemed you'd earned a reward.

“mhm, keep looking, love," he murmured, his teeth grazing your earlobe before he slid a single finger inside you. the intrusion, after being deprived for so long, made you gasp sharply, a loud, unrestrained moan escaping your lips. his brows lifted slightly in surprise at the sound, and then his grin turned wicked. "oh, would you look at that," he teased, his tone dripping with delight. "what a beautiful sound you just made, pretty girl.”

his lips pressed to your neck, trailing soft kisses along your skin as he felt his cock stir in his pants. usually, it took him more effort to coax you out of your shy reluctance to let your moans escape freely. despite always telling you how much he loved hearing you, how lovely and utterly sinful those sounds were, it still took time. but right now? right now, you couldn't hold back if you tried.

he groaned softly as he felt the tight grip of your walls clench around his finger, proof of just how much you'd been aching for him. "so eager," he cooed, easing a second finger inside. the stretch had your back arching slightly, your hands gripping his thighs to steady yourself as he began to pump in and out of you with a steady, deliberate pace.

the slick sounds of your arousal filled the room, mixing with your soft cries of pleasure, and the sight in the mirror was almost too much to handle. his fingers worked you expertly, the angle perfect, and you couldn't tear your eyes away from the way he used your body.

"there you go," he praised, his voice low and husky. "see how good you look taking me? keep watching, princess," and to your own surprise, you found yourself liking it, relishing the way he made you feel both vulnerable and desired, the heat between you building into something unbearable and addictive.

his free hand slid upward, cupping your breast with a firm grip. he kneaded the soft flesh, his fingers finding your hardened nipple and pinching it sharply, sending a jolt of pleasure coursing through your body. your eyes fluttered shut at the sensation, and your head fell back onto his shoulder, baring your neck to him. it was an open invitation, one he didn't hesitate to accept, pressing hot kisses and gentle bites against your exposed skin, leaving faint marks.

he could feel how your breathing hitched, hear the soft whimpers that grew louder with each passing second, and notice the slight tremble in your thighs as you grew more desperate. your moans became high-pitched, barely restrained, and he knew you were close.

his thumb found your clit, rubbing it in tight, quick circles as his fingers plunged into you faster and deeper. the dual stimulation was too much, driving you to the edge you'd been teetering on for what felt like forever.

“you're gonna cum already, baby?" he purred, his lips brushing your ear as he spoke. "y-yes," you mewled, your voice breathy and trembling. "f-feels so good, hyuck."

your head felt like it was floating in the clouds, every nerve in your body alight with sensation as his relentless pace pushed you closer and closer to release. his grip on you tightened, anchoring you to him as he guided you toward the inevitable.

"that's my girl," he praised, his tone dripping with approval. "come on, love. let go for me. i want to feel you."

it was so good, too good. the pleasure was overwhelming, and you could feel the knot in your core tightening, ready to snap and finally give you the release you'd been chasing. Your body trembled, your breath caught, and just as the wave of ecstasy began to crest, he slowed. his fingers stilled, pulling back ever so slightly, leaving you teetering agonizingly on the edge.

a broken, frustrated cry escaped your lips, filling the room. he chuckled softly, the sound dark and full of amusement, as he nipped at your ear. "n-no, no, no, hyuck, please," you cried out, your voice trembling with desperation. your hips bucked instinctively, seeking the friction he'd just stolen away, but he was quicker.

“ah, ah," he tsked, removing his hand just enough to deliver a sharp, teasing slap to your soaked cunt, the sting making you gasp. "don't be greedy," he scolded gently, though the smirk on his lips betrayed how much he enjoyed your reaction.

your thighs quivered as you tried to press them together, the lingering ache of denied pleasure making you feel helpless. his other hand gripped your jaw, tilting your face up so you could see the glint of mischief in his eyes through the mirror. "you'll get what you want," he promised, his voice low and teasing. "but on my terms, love. be patient.”

tears of frustration pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you nodded weakly, your need for him overpowering any resistance. his fingers returned to your entrance, moving slower this time, deliberately building the tension back up. "good girl," he murmured, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck. “now, let's see if you can behave.”

↝ taglist: @yizhrt, @sinisxtea, @peterm4rker.

[amazinglyashy]

hello!! can I request fluff reactions of the boys to mc craving something to eat in the middle of the night?

thank youu have a good day 🥰

I'm laughing because you asked this like it would be the most off the cuff situation, when literally every single one of these men canonly have an awful sleep schedule and nighttime habits. Like, there is absolutely nothing weird about this at all except the fact that you're awake when they're awake.

LaDS men when you crave something to eat in the middle of the night -

Zayne -

In all honestly, he was just now getting home from a shift at Akso hospital, so it takes him just a few moments to register why the situation in front of him was abnormal.

He can't help it, he's usually coming home in the early evening, not at three in the morning.

So when he sees you sitting at the counter, snacking on something, he simply sets his stuff down near the door and removes his tie, before coming over to give you a peck on the cheek in greeting.

He's made it halfway to the bathroom, yawning wide and telling himself to get some good sleep tonight- well, technically this morning- wait… morning…? What on earth were you doing up-

He's back in the kitchen in a second, with your eyes flickering back to him in an innocent question, confused as to why he's looking at you so bewildered.

'Why', is the only thing that comes out of his mouth, and when you finally process what he means by that, you can't help but give him a chuckle and a smile, still eating whatever you had gotten from the fridge or cupboard.

"I was hungry."

Not even going to question why you acted on your impulses to eat at three in morning. He'll just sigh, and tell you to make sure you get to bed soon for the sake of your health and mood tomorrow. Gives you one more kiss before heading off to get ready for bed himself.

Sylus -

He's probably just getting up.

So when he starts to rise and notices you lying awake, he's going to be confused, hoping to himself that you didn't have some freakish nightmare, especially not any possibly involving your past experiences with him-

No.

Turns out, you're currently trying to make yourself go back to sleep, despite wanting something warm to eat, but also not wanting to cook.

He's going to find it terribly endearing, letting out a little snicker and making you blush at his reaction, his hand carding through your hair as he leans down over you.

"I think you're forgetting something, kitten. I wake up around this time- meaning, I need to have something for breakfast before working on anything. You do know you can ask the chef to make you something right now, right sweetie?"

He won't say it, but you can tell he's so pleased to be eating with you, even though he knows you'll be heading off to bed right after, it's a nice change of pace for him. He's more than happy to have your company, no matter the odd hour.

Rafayel -

He's finally ready to kick himself into going to bed, but the moment he opens the bedroom door, he runs into you.

At first, he's worried.

Secondly, he's miffed that you got up to come and harrass him into coming to bed again.

Thirdly, he's extra miffed that none of the previous answers are true, but you're actually just hungry.

He's seen the way you snack, he knows you're not just making something up. And he can't exactly let you go back to bed hungry so-

That's how he ended up making a late night dish rather than finally heading to bed.

Any protests to him cooking fell on deaf ears. He's having none of that. He can tell you're still sleepy, and since he hasn't wound down yet, he isn't. So he's more than happy to cook for you.

Definitely wasn't hungry himself, definitely didn't forget to have dinner, no sir-

He'll sit and eat with you, asking if you had any interesting dreams, before making up scenarios that may have occurred involving food monsters and treat fairies.

He's not trying to hear that beautiful sound that is your laugh. Not at all. He's trying even less hard to make the meal last longer, just so that he can spend a little bit more time with you-

Xavier -

He probably saw you on his own way to get a snack, in all honesty.

You two just have to share a look, contemplating the situation, before the both of you begin to grin, realizing what the other is awake doing.

He offers to walk you around the block to the corner shop that's open 24hrs, so that the two of you can get some junk food or spicy microwave noodles to have together.

If you don't want to go anywhere, he'll either go himself or order delivery from somewhere that's open all hours so that you guys don't need to cook. He doesn't want to put out a fire for his attempts this late at night, and you either don't feel like it, or you're not the best at it yourself.

(You're still better than him though.)

Whenever the two of you end up getting your food, you sit together on the couch, legs folded over one another as you tangle together to watch an episode of something you've been binging.

You'll both wake up completely different though- having fallen asleep together on the couch after finishing your food, and ending up snuggled closely, a bundle of warm blankets and pajamas mixed with the relaxing sensation of the other's breathing.

Thank goodness today was the both of your day off...

[valentine-cafe]

I have a request for egg tarts jìngyí 1311! (Egg tarts💛)

He's intimidating and cold, so I can't help but imagine a male reader who crossdresses and likes to wear skirts, trying to give him hints or draw his eyes; sitting in a place within jingyí's field of vision as reader oh so casually lifts the side of his (already short) skirt a bit for him . . . . .... .

˖⁺. “ attention-whore ! ” : 

﹙ top mechanic naga boyfriend x bttm male reader ﹚.𖹭 ݁

. . . verse 1311 jìngyí x male reader !! 🍒 : ﹙ mechanist ˖ naga  ˖ villain character ﹚

you keep trying to snatch the attention of a certain mechanist. while he's hard at work one day - you step into workshop with a short skirt and devious intentions. needless to say, he's tired of keepin his hands off of you 

﹙ cws ﹚: explicit content ˖ cross dressing reader ˖ fingering ˖ handjob  | wc : 1.5k 

﹙ receipts ﹚: finally some requests for jingyi 1311 thank you SO much for this and i hope that you enjoy it !

꒰  other treats : guidelines ˖ m.list ˖ characters ˖ our lore  ꒱

A grunt fills the workshop. Suddenly the cool counter that you are seated on pales in comparison to the pair of white eyes that find yours.

“欠扁.” ( infuriating )

Your brows perch. Head cocking to the side as a small, sweet smile slither to your lips. “Hmm? Everything ‘lright Jìngyí?” You lean your weight back onto your arms that support you from behind. Body cruxed in the perfect angle as your hand pretends as though it is merely fixing your short black skirt.

Tanned hands grip along the undercarriage of the vehicle he worked tirelessly on. The muscles on his arm flexing as he fully pushes himself from beneath the slew of mechanics he had tirelessly been picking apart at for the better part of an hour.

It is a job he could have finished in less. If it weren’t for your pretty self that trotted into the workshop. Batting your lashes at him and asking with that oh so sweet voice if you could - keep him some company since you are sooo bored.

Those white eyes pair with narrowed brows that carry a few drops of sweat. He swipes it off with the back of his knuckles after snatching his cloth and cleaning off his hands. A task he completes with some water once he pushes himself to his feet and rounds over to his sink.

“You are a fucking distraction.”

The mechanist appears before you in a matter of seconds. Those large hands that had worked skillfully with tools and gears now firmly planted on your thighs. His towering height making use of your leaning figure by dipping down to loom his shadow over you.

Reapers should be cold. A reaper snake hybrid should be frozen. And yet his hands are warm from work. Callous. As they slowly trail along the soft skin of your thighs. Slither under your skirt and graze his fingers along flesh that makes you gasp.

Your gaze finds his in haste. Startled by his immediate response and how good his rough palms feel under your skirt. “J-Jìngyí -”

“Hmm?”

Slitted pupils swarm your vision as his head swoops closer. His face with a thin sheen of sweat invading your personal space as he makes himself comfortable between your legs. A rough grip yanking your thighs to hook over his hips. Flush into his black overalls and bend you further. Hike your skirt up more.

What does it matter anyway? Didn’t you -

“Didn’t you want to show off?”

His pelvis weighs down onto yours. You take your teeth between your lips and suck in a breath. Of course this is the reaction you were looking for. It’s the one you’ve spun in you dreams time and time again. To be grabbed, manhandled - pushed and pulled as though you are a pesky invention unable to work well for him.

Cold lips ghost your ear. His large hands splay around your thighs and the curves of your hips. Squeezing. Groping. Feeling the skin that has been distracting him since you pranced on into his workshop and sat upon his countertop. Fucking distracting him from his work.

“Always showing me what is under this skirt. Always playing coy.” Pressure cups around your crotch. The heel of his palm grinds along the underside of your clothed dick and rips a gasp from your lungs. To think that such a cold, dry man could be so. . . forward. “Wanted my attention. Did you not?”

His sneer presses close to your face. Jaw tight. A practical hiss through fangs as his messy hair casts a shadow over his sharp gaze. One that makes your tummy twist. As though the feel of his hand roughly palming along your crotch is not enough.

“Well you got it now.”

A small, cold laugh leaves his lips. One of his hands bury into the back of your hair after promptly shoving you lower. So that the small of your back kisses the counter. So that his free hand shoves your underwear down to your knees - not before spanking the waistband on your thigh for good measure. All so that he can wrap his grip around your pulsing cock and jerk you off beneath that pretty skirt that you love so much.

All the while you are forced to look at him. Even when your eyes flutter. Your chest rises and falls with quickened breaths. Heat spreading over your face as your hips give small, needy bucks into his hand. The rough skin of his palm grazes just right over your sensitive flesh. To add onto the overwhelming feeling - his lips are on your neck in a matter of seconds. Flaring your insides despite the cold, open-mouthed touches.

“J-Jìng - hh. . . yí hah -”

Your whimper meets a rough tug your hair. He scoops your precum up with his thumb and swirls it around your tip. Slowly stroking and massaging along the slit before quickly, mercilessly circling his digit around the head. All while you try to tilt your head back despite his grip. Try to buck your hips faster. Squirm in his strong hold as you quickly take all of his focus rather than that damned car.

The twists in your tummy are your only warnings. Your fingers shoot out to curl into his dark vest. Squeeze at his arms as your lips part in pleasure. Your body convulses. Tenses. And you squirt all over his hand that squeezes so skillfully along your base. Thumb nursing an under-vein that eases a sob from your lips and another spurt of cum.

“Well would you look at that?” Jìngyí’s deep chuckle caresses your hair. Followed by a slew of rough kisses along your jaw, to the underside of it. “Needy little thing. I’ve barely touched you and here you are. Squirting all over the place.”

He tuts and shakes his head slowly. Flips your skirt off to watch the slick trickling down your poor, pulsing dick. Collect your cum along two of his fingers and aim a wad of spit for good measure. So that they might press between your legs further and circle along your rim instead.

“Jì. . . ìngyí wait -” you hiccup. Head flicked back when his digits start easing in. Your hips roll up in tandem. Chasing after his knuckles that continuously withdraw. Skillfully. Teasingly. In a fluid motion that drives you wild with the way he strokes the pads of his fingers along your gummy walls. “W-Want y. . . w-want yr’cock - p-please. please I-I want your cock instead -”

Your pants hiccup into moans the more his fingers move. Inching the long lengths deeper - just as you craved. Your thighs tremble and clamp - if only to receive a harsh spank from his free hand. Before he grabs at your left thigh and shoves it down to the table. Holding you in place as his fingers begin fucking your poor hole sore.

“Awww what? What’s that baby?” His fingers massage up against your sweetspot. A cruel grin meets your arching and soft crying. “Want my cock? Oh poor thing.”

The deepness of his voice only adds a vibration to the croon right above you. His fingers pump faster. Putting your own and any toy you’ve tried to shame ten times and over. He steers you back into them. Fucking you knuckled-deep and spilling drool from your lips with his mere digits.

“Cute to think you deserve it. Precious even. Just be happy with my fingers, fucking whore.”

Cold lips find yours in a messy kiss. His elongated tongue making itself comfortable past your lips. Down your throat as his hand aided your head in forcing it back. Taking his rough, messy kisses as his fingers rapidly pistoned below. A third adding to the mix soon enough.

“Come around here - hah -” another kiss. Heated pants. “Wearing all those pretty skirts. Showing off. Begging for it.” He grips your jaw. Squeezes.

“Better luck next time, pretty boy.”

You aren’t sure how long his fingers worked your hole. He’d keep alternating between your tight rim and your weeping dick. Making you squirm on the table. Kissing away you desperate pleas and cries for him to just fuck you.

Instead all you get is orgasm after orgasm. Until you were laid bare and whining on whatever motion of his hand had you squirming. Whining.

And when his fingers finally withdraw from your tight heat - what does he do?

Wipe the strings of click off on your inner thigh. Fix your skirt, grip at your jaw and press a rough kiss to the corner of your lips —

“Now run along. I have work.”

He leaves you there. A mess. Drooling on his counter. Throbbing for his cock.

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[wholoveseggs]

A Tale of Tinsel and Turmoil

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}{Five Days of Fluffmas}

{Elijah Mikaelson x Reader} When Kol brings home a Christmas tree too grand for the Mikaelson courtyard, the family’s decorating antics spiral into chaos...

♡♡Merry Christmas♡♡

1.5 words - Warnings: flufffff, holiday decorating gone wrong, mischievous Kol, Christmas tree theme debates, Hope's word is law && lots of love and laughter...

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@origshipfan @cocoabliss @eternalnoble @darth-laeka

It had been a while since the entire Mikaelson family had been under the same roof, but when Kol came through the door carrying a massive Christmas tree, he was quickly met by an excited Hope, who had been waiting impatiently for him to come home.

"Uncle Kol!" the little girl cried, rushing into his arms and hugging him tightly. "You brought the tree!"

"Well, of course I did, little darling," he said, returning the hug just as eagerly.

Elijah cast a skeptical glance at the towering tree as Kol began setting it up in the courtyard. It stretched nearly to the third-floor balcony, its branches sprawling like a small forest.

"Was a tree of this size really necessary?" Elijah asked, his tone dry but patient.

Kol shrugged, carefully securing the base. "Why not? The holidays are all about extravagance," he replied, stepping back to admire his handiwork.

"Daddy! Mommy! Come see the tree!" Hope cried out, racing off to find her parents.

You leaned against the second-floor railing, watching the commotion below. Kol stood proudly by the massive tree, grinning like a child on Christmas morning, while Klaus approached, already scowling.

"Where did you get this?" Klaus asked, arms crossed. "They certainly aren’t selling these at the tree lot."

"I found it," Kol answered vaguely, his mischievous grin widening under Rebekah’s pointed glare. "Perhaps with a bit of magical assistance,"

"Kol..." Elijah warned, his calm tone carrying a note of exasperation.

Before Kol could reply, a small voice interrupted. "Uncle Elijah," Hope said, tugging on his sleeve. Her big, hopeful eyes were enough to melt even Elijah’s stoic demeanor. "Will you help me decorate the tree?"

Elijah smiled warmly, lifting her into his arms. "Of course, sweetheart."

Your heart melted at the sight. Elijah had always had a way with Hope, his tenderness shining through in moments like these.

"I can help too, uncle Kol can't keep me from it," Rebekah said with a smirk.

Klaus was quick to jump in, "oh please, Bekah, I think we all know I'm the better decorator."

"Go get the decorations, and then we'll see about that," Rebekah told her brother, crossing her arms.

Elijah handed Hope off to Hayley and went to the storage room where the ornaments were kept. As he walked, he caught your gaze, and gave you a soft smile, his eyes twinkling. You found yourself following him into the storage room.

"Do you want me to carry that?" you asked, taking in the large cardboard box Elijah had pulled from the shelf.

"Thank you, but I'm perfectly capable of carrying a box," he told you with a chuckle.

"Well, it looks heavy," you replied, giving him a smirk.

He raised his eyebrow, "are you saying I'm not strong enough to lift a box? My dear I can lift you without even breaking a sweat."

"Oh, really?"

"Yes," he told you, stepping closer.

You bit your lip, trying to keep yourself from grinning. Elijah's eyes darted to your lips, a smirk forming on his face. He stepped even closer, his body almost brushing yours.

"So, are you going to prove it or not?" You asked, a challenging tone in your voice.

He smirked, leaning in close enough for his lips to brush the shell of your ear. His voice was low and raspy when he whispered, "I will be more than happy to show you later,"

Your breath hitched, and heat pooled in your lower stomach. You looked up at him, his face only inches from yours, and his gaze was hungry, but he wouldn't move any closer, not until you told him. The two of you had been dancing around each other for months now, neither one wanting to make the first move, but you were starting to think he might actually kiss you.

"Are you two love birds coming?" Rebekah's voice called out, effectively shattering the moment.

You stepped back, blushing furiously. Elijah gave you an apologetic smile before lifting the box and carrying it to the courtyard.

The ornaments were quickly passed around and the decorating began. Klaus, Kol, and Rebekah were trying to de-tangle the string lights, while Hope was helping Freya and Hayley pick out the prettiest ornaments. You and Elijah were sorting through the tinsel, contemplating which colors to use.

As the family began decorating, the bickering started almost immediately. Rebekah held up a string of red and gold ornaments. "We’re going traditional! Red, green, and gold. It’s classic."

Klaus scoffed. "Traditional? How dull. We should go for a winter wonderland theme. White, silver, and blue. Sophisticated."

"Traditional is timeless!" Rebekah snapped, hanging a gold bauble on the tree.

"And winter wonderland is elegant," Klaus retorted, tossing a strand of silver tinsel onto the tree.

Kol, watching from the sidelines, smirked. "Both of you have awful taste. Let’s make it fun! Bright colors everywhere. I bet this sturdy tree can hold all of our ornaments,"

The three of them turned toward each other, their voices growing louder. Freya sighed and crossed her arms. "Are we seriously doing this? Hope is right there. Can’t we go one holiday without arguing?"

"We’re not arguing," Klaus said, his tone anything but convincing.

"We’re discussing," Rebekah added with a sharp smile.

"Oh, really?" Freya asked, raising an eyebrow. "Then why do I hear so much shouting and so little decorating?"

Before anyone could respond, Hope, who had been quietly observing, spoke up. "I want it all purple! Purple is my favorite!"

Everyone turned to look at her. Klaus, ever the doting father, immediately relented. "Purple it is, my little princess."

Elijah chuckled softly, already retrieving the purple tinsel. "It seems the debate has been settled."

"Smart choice," you teased, watching him as he carefully handed a strand of tinsel to Hope.

As the decorating continued, the tree began to take shape—a towering display of purple tinsel and a mix of ornaments, each with its own bit of family history. Despite the occasional bickering, the atmosphere was warm and filled with laughter.

Finally, Klaus stepped back, surveying the nearly finished tree. "Now, we just need the topper," he declared.

"I want to do it!" Hope said, bouncing on her toes.

Klaus’s eyes widened. "Absolutely not. It’s too dangerous. The tree is massive."

"But Daddy—" Hope started, her pout already forming.

"No, sweetheart," Klaus said firmly. "Uncle Kol chose the most ridiculous tree imaginable. You won't be able to reach the top."

Hope crossed her arms and let out a dramatic sigh, she was so much like her father sometimes. 

"Finnnnne," she groaned. "But someone needs to do it!"

"I got it," you offered, climbing the stairs to the second floor balcony.

Elijah followed you. "You should let me," he said, reaching the railing and offering his hand. "If you fall, you could really hurt yourself,"

"Are you going to catch me if I fall?" you asked, your eyes twinkling with mirth.

He grinned. "Of course, I will.”

In one smooth motion, Elijah placed his hands at your waist and lifted you effortlessly. You gasped, your hands instinctively gripping his shoulders as he steadied you, holding you high enough to reach the top. Hope clapped her hands below, beaming with excitement.

"Easy now," Elijah murmured, his voice calm and steady. "You’ve got this."

You placed the star carefully, adjusting it until it sat perfectly centered. "Done!" you exclaimed, turning to beam at him.

But in your excitement, you shifted your weight too far. Elijah tried to steady you, but the combination of your movement and the tree’s precarious balance was too much. The massive tree wobbled, then toppled, sending all of the ornaments and purple tinsel scattering across the courtyard.

Chaos erupted immediately. Klaus shouted something about Kol ruining Christmas, Rebekah shrieked about broken ornaments, and Freya and Hayley tried to calm everyone down. Hope, however, clapped her hands, laughing as she declared it "the funniest Christmas ever."

Elijah, still holding you securely, slowly lowered you to the ground. His expression was a mix of exasperation and amusement. "I think we may have caused a bit of trouble," he said, his tone light.

You couldn’t help but laugh. "A bit?" you echoed, gesturing to the glittering mess.

His hands lingered at your waist, steady and warm as you met his gaze. For a moment, the chaos around you faded. Elijah’s dark eyes softened, and you felt a pull so strong you couldn’t resist. Leaning up, you pressed your lips to his.

The kiss was soft and warm, a long-awaited moment that felt just as perfect as you’d imagined. When you pulled back, your cheeks were flushed, and Elijah’s signature smirk was firmly in place.

"I suppose toppling the tree was worth it," he said, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

"Completely worth it," you replied, grinning.

Kol groaned loudly from below. "Oh, for the love of Christmas, can you two stop being disgustingly cute for one second? Come help us clean up,"

Elijah didn’t even glance at him. "Perhaps if you weren’t so careless with your magical trees, Kol, this wouldn’t have happened."

As the family bickered and laughed, you stayed where you were, Elijah still holding you close. In the middle of the glittering mess, surrounded by laughter, love, and a little chaos, you realized there was nowhere else you’d rather be.

[arc-misadventures]

Your Semblance Is What?

Weiss: H-Hold on?

Weiss: You can do what with your semblance?

Jaune: Shapeshifter. I can change my form to however I wish it to be. Well, almost, I can look like other humans, animals, and even, Grimm, but I can’t change the colours of my eyes. They’ll always be blue.

Weiss: Can you become anything else, like an inanimate object?

Jaune: Yep! I can change into a locker, and you could hide in me.

Weiss: Whoa…! C-Can you change into any… fictional things? Like a weird gun?

Jaune: Depends… I can change into something that looks like one, but I have to know how it works. Like turning myself into a weapon, say a pistol is easy, but to actual fire like a gun, I need to learn how a real gun works. Otherwise, I have to imagine it until I figure out how it best works.

Jaune: My sister asked me to change into a slime from her favourite videogame, it took me months to figure out how to do anything in that body…

Weiss: So… You could change yourself right now to look like a bull faunas?

Jaune: Easily!

Jaune: See? What do you think?

Weiss: Whoa…

Jaune: Personally I prefer wolf ears…

Weiss: Awww~!

Jaune: They don’t get in the way bullhorns do, plus I can hear with them!

Weiss: That’s convenient.

Jaune: I can also become a woman too!

Weiss: Wait, what?

Jeanne: See~?

Weiss: Oh gods…?!

Jeanne: I found out I could do this one day after my sisters made me wear a dress again, they got upset they couldn’t dress me up in drag after I did this.

Weiss: So big. So bouncy.

Jaune: But, I prefer this form in all honesty. Less of a hassle.

Weiss: So uhh… J-Jaune… Since you can change your shape…

Jaune: That’s a shapeshifter for ya.

Weiss: Could we… could you change into… into… (Whisper whisper)

Jaune: Yeah, I can. Why?

Weiss: Because I want you to… (Whisper whisper)

Jaune: What?! You want to do what?!

Weiss: Please! It’s always been a dream of mine!

Jaune: Weiss… this is…

Weiss: I’ll let you choose what we do next time!

Jaune: …

Weiss: Please~!

Jaune: …

Jaune: Haa…

Jaune: Fine…

Weiss: Wonderful! Just do this, this once for me, and we’ll never have to do it again.

Jaune: Oh I doubt that.

~~~

Jaune: Okay… Are you… comfortable, Weiss?

Weiss: Yes absolutely! Let’s begin~!

Jaune: Haa… You know… I expected a lot of things from you, Weiss. That you’re into this! I did not expect that…

Weiss: W-What’s wrong with me being an elf girl?

Jaune: Well, there’s nothing wrong with…

Weiss: That’s been tangled up in a slimes tentacles~!

Weiss:

Jaune: There’s plenty of wrong with…?!

Weiss: Where the tentacles strip her naked, then violate her body leaving her a panting moaning mess cover in it’s… Grrk?!

Jaune: Okay… Let’s just get this over with…

Weiss: (Moans~!)

Jaune: Oh gods… I hope no one else hears about this…

Ruby: Weiss?! You’ve been captured my a tentacle monster?! Don’t worry, I’ll save you!

Jaune: Ruby?! This isn’t what it looks like!

Jaune: …

Jaune: It’s exactly what it looks like… But, I can?!

Ruby: Whoops~? I dropped my weapon, and I’m a defenceless maiden at the mercy of these vile… girthy tentacles~! Whatever will I do~?

Jaune: Haa…

Jaune: No one will hear of this.

Ruby: No one, but you, Daddy~!

Jaune: Gods I hope this doesn’t become a thing…

[sunghoonnsupremacy]

OPEN UP. - perv!roomate sim jaeyun.

- warnings : pussy eating, cnc, multiple orgasms, jakes a perv, panty stealing and somnophilia

- word count : 418

- a/n : this was originally an ask but i accidentally deleted it so i hope the anon still sees it<3

- synopsis : jake didn't plan to catch feelings for somebody this year, especially not his hot roommate. but what can he do? its winter break and he just knows you haven't gotten laid for as long as you've been living there so being the gentleman that he is, he decides to help you out!

it's two am. you're laying on your bed with a dimly lit night, trying to fall asleep. it's been a long day for you. going to school amongst having to work a shift as a barista definitely isn't your thing, yet here you are. as you slip into a deep slumber, you don't hear the door creaking open slowly.

jake slips into your room wearing his sweats and a black tshirt with his hair messy. he seems to be admiring you, as he walks closer to you with his eyes glued to your shirt riding up, showing your panties. he curses quietly to himself before sitting on the bed next to your sleeping figure. jake brushes the hair out of your face and kisses your forehead.

sweet, right? 

not really.

his hand slips down your panties and he immediately groans at the heat that's radiating from your slightly wet pussy. you stir in your sleep, seemingly not waking up any time soon. he sits behind you and slowly takes off your panties. the visual hitting him better than expected.

 "fuck.." he spreads your legs open and leans in to lick at your pussy from the back, not before tucking your panties into his back pocket.

taking a long strip with his tongue, jake groans at your sweet taste. you start breathing heavier in your sleep and weakly attempt to close your legs.

jake clicks his tongue and harshly spreads them to slurp up at your pussy. his tongue maliciously licks around your clit as his fingers circle around your opening. by now you've waken up, which jake hasn't noticed hence he's in pussy heaven right now. you squirm around with widened eyes and soft pants continuously leaving your mouth.

"j-jake what are you doing?" a whimper leaves your mouth when he looks up and detaches his lips from you. he starts caressing the inside of your thighs softly, "couldn't resist it, sorry baby. just lean back and enjoy it" a strangled yelp leaves your mouth when he wraps his arms around your thighs, slamming his face onto your pussy and eating you out like never before.

your legs instinctively close around his head from the amount of pleasure. "open up, baby." he forces them open and holds them down so you can't do anything but let him do his thing.

as the night continues, you've already had three orgasms on his tongue, fingers and most importantly his dick. cuddling your shaking form close, jake wraps his arms around you and pecks your lips softly.

"sweet dreams, roomie."