#its a sunflower and it says “you are worthy of good things” and he literally went from going to walk out to beaming about it

[1ddotdhq]

💐Fri 4 Dec ‘20 🌍

Cooking competitions were fought, flower shops were opened, petitions were signed, and today was all in all a lovely, gentle sort of day! 

Before last night’s Variety show, real!Harry popped back on instagram to tell Kid Harpoon that the producer award he got was “Fake News” and to “Stop the Count”. Look if Harry wants to keep showing more personality on Instagram I WANT TO SEE IT! Then Variety’s show aired, and Niall and Harry were “there”: Niall presented Lewis Capaldi’s “songwriter of the year” award (in response to it, Lewis thanked the other songwriters for “being a worse songwriter than me”), and Harry, of course, was the Hitmaker of the year! He was introduced by a lot of Big Industry People who all decided to say that they were, uh, so proud of him for leaving a boyband and becoming a rock star? Ah, good, that means it’s the “elitist music takes” segment of the hour. When are people gonna realize that shitting on a really successful, record breaking band in order to say nice things about Harry (one of its members!) is not the compliment they think it is. Nick Kroll's longer intro was at least more interesting, sharing some DWD set moments, confirmed that Harry is a ‘manly man’, and jokingly said that he and his wife and Harry have become a throuple (ANOTHER threesome? Really Harry?). Harry then showed up, looking pretty tired (he’s been doing very long hours, guys!) and wearing his dick banana necklace, and said, “Thanks to [my team] and everyone who supported me through it...thanks to the label for leaving me alone..this is...cool. Cool. I’m gonna get back in the studio”. Cool! 

Anyways, that discourse was quickly overtaken by the revelation that Harry DID pay his touring crew back in the spring when his tour was postponed: it came from a local Belgian publication in Ghent, where a man named Yves Van Acker has opened a flower shop (yes I DO think that this sounds like the beginning of a fairy tale!). Anyways, Yves has toured with a number of famous bands over the years, Harry being most recent. “The entire crew was suddenly out of work,” Yves said of Love On Tour’s crew, “But Harry Styles did not want to leave us. Each member was therefore paid an amount. A nice gesture, on which I decided to do something positive with this latest income”. A few things about this 1.) it was not just a nice gesture, it’s the Right Thing to DO! He’s paying people for work he hired them to do! 2.) It's wonderful enough to see, in fact, that it really isn't actually necessary to inflate: the employee told us that he received an amount, clearly a decent amount (enough to open a business), but we do not know if he was given his full wages. It sure is amazing though! And 3.) he named bouquets of flowers after Harry songs! He has “Adore You”, “Golden”, “Canyon Moon”, and “Ever Since New York”, but not, shockingly enough, “Sunflower Vol 6” - COME ON! It’s RIGHT THERE! Anyways, I adore Harry and I want everyone to know that - he does always do his best to be kind. 

Liam has a new COVER out, and one of my favorite songs: “Waiting on the World to Change” by John Mayer! The cover is for UNICEF Changemaker, and Liam says that he’s “proud to support them in any way I can”. Okay I’m a NERD so I’m about to rant about how this was the PERFECT song for Liam. The first is his RANGE: he gave the song a really gravelly, soulful sound that it deserves, and his falsettos are SO GOOD that he hits the high notes EASILY. The second are the LYRICS of the song! Literally: “It's hard to beat the system when we're standing at a distance” and “and when you trust your television, what you get is what you got; ‘cause when they own the information, they can bend it all they want”. UGH CHILLS! But that was NOT ALL for Liam, who made a guest appearance on Abby Robert’s YouTube channel in a cook off competition! They made roasted potatoes and Yule Logs (weird combo but okay), and chatted about Christmas traditions a bit. Liam said that he actually DOES do quite a bit of cooking on Christmas because he liked to watch the “tea” go down but not be a part of it (Liam do you read this blog? Was that a hint??). Anyways, he also said that he spends every Christmas with his son, because “Christmas is about kids” (Abby Roberts did a HARD eye roll it was very funny), he put out a fire (firefighter!Liam), and he dropped a boiled potato and lots of powdered sugar. Liam won for his potatoes and Abby won for the Yule Log, and *I* got really hungry. “Don’t set your kitchens on fire,” Liam warns cheerily at the end of the video. Yeahhhh, thanks for that! And now for Liam’s short but lovely content: his alarm this morning said, “It’s that Friday feeling” and then he and Roman talked about their holiday plans - Liam with his fam, Roman with his booze and Karaoke (“I’ll be doing strip that down in front of my mum”. Yeah, cuz that’s not weird at all), and they FINALLY released their bedtime story - It’s twenty minutes long and it’s called “Bedtime Bromance” (can’t wait to hear it!). He also posted an Instagram story of himself in a recording studio in Stockholm singing “Last First Kiss”. “Back to Where it All Started,” the caption read. :{) 

And now for Niall and Louis, both of whom are taking up some social issues! Sam Fender (who got into a bit of hot water yesterday for, uh, a joke about Louis’ fans and our key smashing tendencies alkdjfladj) called on the UK-based “Tomlinators” (lmao no <3) to sign a petition which requires local governments to have free helplines for the homeless and vulnerable. And, of course, fans got right on that and helped Sam reach his goal! Oh, wait, no, that DIDN’T happen - instead, fans jumped down his throat for, uh, clout chasing?? And they told him that he couldn’t get away with mocking us and expect us to HELP him!! YEAH GUYS! How DARE he try to use his influence to make a difference?? Anyways, Louis was clearly super mad, you could tell by how he liked the tweet, retweeted the petition, and then said, “Very important cause. If you’re a UK resident please sign!”. As of right now, the petition sits at 10,000 out of 100,000 signatures needed, so. Let’s get it done! Niall is also going to do some community work: he will be at Comhairle Na Nog’s meeting ( it’s an Irish child and youth councils in Ireland) on Saturday giving a shout out to the kids who have been working on projects and in their community despite lockdown. Awww, best of luck to both of them in their very worthy causes.

[stayshineee]

late night adventures

w/ bf!johnny

words: 785

genre: fluff 

summary: when your boyfriend woke you up to get tattoos during witching hour, you thought nothing good can come of this. but maybe the best memories are those made when they’re the least expected

a/n: hey guys!! this is my first ever story & I’m super excited!! I’ve been wanting to do this for so long & will start uploading more soon!! I plan on writing for many groups & on taking requests so feel free to send any suggestions you may have!! also constructive criticism is welcome but no hate please!! 

You have never dubbed yourself as an impulsive person. While others did things spontaneously (recklessly in your opinion), you preferred to plan things out accordingly. Because when anything is done with logic and reason, there would be no room for regrettable decisions. 

You should’ve known that fate had other ideas. 

If you had to pinpoint a single moment in your life that deviated it from its path of predictability and safety, you would say that it was the moment Johnny Suh rolled into your life. Literally rolled in but that’s a story for another time. 

Now here you are 4 years later, sitting in a tattoo parlor, wearing nothing but a hoodie pulled over your koya pajamas, at 3 in the morning, angrily watching as your boyfriend discussed his design with the tattoo artist. 

Let me back track a little. Normally when people can’t sleep, they drink a warm glass of milk or listen to classical music or even watch a movie. Let me repeat, any normal person. But if you’ve learned anything about Johnny in all your years together, it’s that he takes great pleasure in doing things in a spur-of-the-moment. 

So of course tonight when your boyfriend couldn’t sleep, he thought it would be a great idea to shake you awake and go get tattoos. 

“I can’t believe you dragged me out of bed for this! How are you gonna get a tattoo when you’re deathly afraid of needles?!” 

“And that’s exactly why you’re here Y/N, my lovely girlfriend and one true love whom I love very much and is always there for me and supports every decision I make by holding my hand and never judging me,” Johnny replies while giving you his infamous puppy dog eyes. 

God damn it. 

“FINE! FINE! I’ll hold your hand but can you at least tell me what you’re getting?”

“A sunflower. Right here on my forearm.” He pauses for a moment, and then lets out a deep sigh.

“Y/N, I love you. I love you so much that when I’m not with you, my soul hurts. My heart hurts. And I know that you deserve so much more. So much more then I can give you. You deserve someone who can be with whenever you need them and not always have to rain check because of their job. You deserve someone who can make you their first priority without any distractions.”

“But despite how I will never be worthy of your pure heart and never ending kindness, I am incredibly honored and beyond grateful that you chose me. That despite all of my flaws and my demanding job, you chose to love me and stand by me all along. There will never be enough words for me to tell you how much I love you and how much you’ve inspired me to better and to keep going.” 

“Do you remember our first date? We got rained on and ran to a convenient store and ended up drinking beer and inhaling the entire store’s ramen supply. But I remember when I asked if you were disappointed by how things turned out, you simply pulled a sunflower out of your bag and told me “No matter how rainy your days get, as long you have a sunflower, the sun will always be with you.”

“I realized that day that you were the only sunflower I needed in my life. So when I get this tattoo, it will be a constant reminder to myself that no matter how far away you are from me, you’ll always be my good luck charm and source of happiness. 

You didn’t realize you were crying until Johnny reached over and wiped your tears with his fingers. 

“Hey, hey, don’t cry. If you cry, I’m going to think I did something wrong,” he chuckled softly

“God damn it Suh!! How can you expect me not to cry when you drop something like that on me,” you yelp, hitting him on the shoulder.

Without a second thought, you reach over and pull him into the tightest and warmest hug you’ve ever given. 

“Even if I had to redo it all over again, I would always choose you because you’re the boy who I fell in love with 4 years ago. You’re the boy who knows how to cheer me up when I’m down. And you’re the boy who saw all of my flaws and still deemed me worthy to love and I will continue to fall deeper and deeper in love with you everyday.” 

You ended up getting matching sunflower tattoos, but as you held his hand while the ink permeated his skin, you thought to yourself:

late night adventures aren’t all that bad.

xxx

thank you for reading !!! please like/reblog if you enjoyed <3

masterlist

[steponmepinkjun]

who's your favorite stardew LI? my friend got me into it not long ago and I am literally so in love with every LI it's kind of sad lmao

OKAY SO LIKE LETS NOT PRETEND THAT SABASTIAN ISNT GOD-TIER. I BE IN HIS HOUSE EVERY DAY GIVING HIM SASHIMI AND FROZEN TEARS LIKE ITS MY JOB, BITCH. But also like..... I have a hella soft spot for Elliott. I'm love me a good Elliott. When he dedicates his book to you? Oh, bitch. My heart and my pussy exploded. I do love Haley purely because of the effort it takes to impress her, like the fact that I had to spend months growing these fuckin sunflowers just to make a bitch smile is pretty brag-worthy at the end of it all. But Leah.... Ohhhhh Jesus Leah. I could say SO many inappropriate things about this fuckin fictional character. But hon trust and believe I would treat Leah RIGHT.

[cad-faoi-maeglin]

Ahhhhh! I didn't mean to seem attack-y? Anyways tell me more about zukomairon who's he teaming up with and why? Who's the common enemy? And since he's zuko what wacky hijinks and serious things happen?

(I got too excited and did a little infodumping.... sorry anon!)

Oh, I was only joking! It was just the ‘it’s usually Mairon with you’ had me thinking “this is what I’m known for, being the Mairon sunflower” XD

Anyway, I am in looooooove with my fic idea and I really don’t care if no one else agrees so I’m soooooo glad you asked me about it!! It’s a very half-formed idea though so this answer may be a bit wonky. Also, it’s not meant to be Mairon’s story, but because he was the inspiration what I have so far is a bit more Mairon heavy than what I want it to be in the end.

Okay, so the thought process that actually started me off was me thinking what it would be like if Mairon met the Fellowship and had to work with them for some reason. Just, you know, for giggles. I liked the idea enough that I wanted to actually write something like it but then I thought “but the purpose of the Fellowship was to bring him down, why would he help that? That makes no sense. How do you even bring yourself down??? Surely if you decide not to be evil anymore that would be it??” And then I remembered a little abandoned idea of Tolkien’s that I could exploit for my self-indulgent plans:

Dagor Dagorath (dun dun duuuuuunnnnnn!!!!!!)

See, Mairon wanted to enslave the world (supposedly so he could reorder it for its own good...) but by the end of his time in Middle Earth, Melkor wanted to destroy the it. They don’t exactly match... So, when Melkor breaks out for the Dagor Dagorath ready to once and for all bring an end to Arda, well, even Mairon doesn’t particularly want to side with him. Not to mention the fact that Mairon has gotten used to being his own boss and Melkor suddenly coming back and calling all the shots is more than a little jarring for him. I actually have way more planned for the more personal side of their reunion and then splitting up. I am a shameless Angbang shipper and there is all sorts of shit going on with these two. Honestly, it’s more the personal side of things that makes the split happen. Mairon is fueled by pure spite and betrayal for a good chunk of this fic. You know what they say, “Hell hath no fury like a Maia scorned” (what do you mean no one says that??) If I went into all of it though, this answer would be waaaaay too long!

So! Tar-I would like the world to continue existing,actually-Mairon heads out on his own. Well, not completely on his own. Thuringwethil defects with him. Mairon can have one (1) friend. As a treat.

The best thing about the Dagor Dagorath setting is that I can literally put whatever characters I want into it. It’s canon that Elves don’t die of old age and those that do die other ways get rehoused. So I can have any of the Elves. Part of the...prophecy(??) of the Dagor Dagorath is that Túrin will return to kill Morgoth (now there is someone fueled by spite!!), so this means that I can bring back any of the humans. It’s a thing. Hobbits are supposedly related to humans, so any of them can come back too. And for the Dwarves, if they go to the Halls like the Elves then surely they can be rehoused too? Every one can theoretically come back! (plus it’s my fic, so what I say goes!). 

So, as I was originally thinking up this idea MONTHS ago, I started to get really excited about who I could bring back and what part they could possibly play. Unfortunately there aren’t many very solid ideas though from here. I know who’s coming back, but not quite what they’re up to. Now, I do have some solid ideas, but they are something I’d rather keep quiet in case I do get to write this. I have ideas for some of the big things and I don’t want to share XD

However, I have a long list of bullet points for this fic and I will now share with you some of the ones that I find more amusing on reading them for the first time in a while (I’ve kept all the original emphasis from the list):

He pulls a Zuko and decides it’s time to join their group

Tyelpe is not fond of Mairon.

Feanor gets a ridiculously epic entrance. Like, it needs to be BIG. It needs to be worthy of Curufinwe Feanáro himself! Boom, bitch, I'm back! And he needs to be an absolute bastard.

Frodo is 100% going to be part of the group that Mai joins. What else did you expect??

The entire Fellowship is back. This includes Boromir!

Someone's quest has to start in Rivendell. It's just proper

Mairon doesn't actually have great social skills

Túrin always goes back to being a complete disaster. Why do you even like him Beleg???

For context, these are just the ones that I thought were kind of funny (like, why did I specify Boromir?? I don’t remember the reasoning behind that!) or are partial bullet points (Mairon’s social skills are part of a long rant on characterisation).

I do have way more planned. There’s all sorts of espionage and betrayal and stuff going on, but it’s either so bitty it wouldn’t make sense to someone not sitting right in front of me or it’s a big thing that I’d want to keep secret so that it would actually be the twist it’s supposed to be...

[shadowsof-thenight]

Hopeless (A Bucky Barnes one-shot)

Summary:

Takes place right after civil war, slightly altering the events at the end. Written in first person (which I never do, but here we are)

My hopeful nature has always been an asset, and as Steve brings Bucky to our newest hide-out, I thought it would help him. I thought I could help him.

Words: 2633

Ship: Bucky Barnes x Reader, though platonic. 

Warning: Sadness, depression, mental health issues/

A/N:This was literally written in such a short amount of time, but I wanted to post it anyway. I might dislike it in a little while, but I've hardly written anything since I finished the long way home...I just wanted to write. And though this'd not work out at all how I had imagined after thinking up those first few lines, I think this suited me better at this moment. I guess I'm not in the right state of mind for lighthearted. Anyway, let me know what you think of this one.

***

It’s a nice feeling, the first time your heart skips. That initial moment that you realise someone has that effect on you. As a teenager it used to make me incredibly nervous, effectively rendering me speechless. I would simply stare at the guy in question and hope he would notice me, eventually speak to me. Always too scared to be the first to speak myself. 

I can’t tell you how often that worked against me.

These days it still makes me nervous, but doesn’t leave me speechless. Instead I can manage a sentence, a conversation even. Making getting to know someone a little easier. 

What it does not help with though, knowing if the person in question returns the feelings. Those budding ‘ oh that person is cute’ feelings. When you want to know if flirting is the right call. 

So when Bucky was first brought into the building by Steve, and my heart skipped a beat, I decided to slow it down. He had been though so much and didn’t need to know that I thought he was gorgeous. In the past I had jumped into these things. However, in those instances the receiver of my budding affection had not been through hell. I could not be sure how he would react to someone complimenting him, flirting with him. I could be sure that it was not what he needed. What he needed was normalcy, time to ground himself. Time to catch his breath. The space to rediscover himself. Perhaps he could even use a friend.

So I squashed my crush. Ignored it. It wasn’t too hard, since I knew nothing about him and it was all very superficial. Instead I was patient, kind and welcoming. Offered him friendship, distraction from his wandering mind and a place he could call home. The entire team worked on that. Our love and respect for Steve was enough to want to act as a warm blanket for his oldest friend. 

That first day, as he sat stoic in a chair at the table, anxiously looking around at the faces in the room, everyone tumbled over themselves to tell him he was welcome. Looking back on that now, I realised we might have overwhelmed the poor man. 

Bucky was distant, keeping everyone at bay. Wary of any form of attention. Often he stayed in his room throughout the day, not even coming out for food or drink. Steve tried so hard. Tried to help him, give him space, be his friend, but it soon became clear that he was unsure of how to proceed. Bucky was so withdrawn and it was difficult for him to figure out a way to get through to him. Steve had confessed that even when his friend allowed him into his room, there was little conversation. Bucky seemed to have forgotten how to connect. To anything and anyone. 

Eventually Steve simply began to leave things in front of his door. Hoping to show instead of telling that he would be by his side. He left food, beverages, mementos of their shared past. It always made its way into the room, though nobody saw Bucky open the door. 

It wasn’t until one night after a particular long mission, where I had tried and hopefully succeeded to put the government on a wrong trail, I found myself unable to sleep, and wandered through the farm we called home at the moment. Careful not to make a sound, I walked around on sock covered feet. Midnight snack in hand, music in my ear, I made my way to the balcony that overlooked the surrounding fields. The balcony was on the second floor, right of the attic that we now used as an office. Usually the doors to the balcony remained closed, but you risked the exposure as you unlocked them. 

It was a warm night, clear skies offering a beautiful view of the trees, sunflowers and grass illuminated by moonlight. It was my favourite place of all the hide-outs we’ve had so far, especially in the silence of the night. Stepping onto the cold weathered wood, I shivered before sighing deeply, taking in the scene before me and letting the fresh air wash over my aching body. My racing mind instantly seemed to clear up. 

Lazily I leaned forward on the railing, staring up at the full moon, when movement below the balcony caught my attention. For a moment I was on high alert, fearing for a hostile break in. Then I recognised the long dark locks of the silent figure, as he sat down on the overgrown lawn. I watched as his fingers absentmindedly moved through the grassy greens, while he stared straight ahead. It took me a moment to realise what he was doing, not until his flesh hand angrily wiped at his face. He was crying. Dumbstruck I stood rooted to the ground, unable to move an inch, simply staring at the lone crying figure. 

A few moments passed before I was able to remove myself from the scene. Turning around I silently walked back through the double doors and walked straight to my room. He didn’t need an audience. 

After this I began to notice his movements more. As soon as people had gone to bed, he would leave his room. Sometimes to run, crossing the surrounding fields, running until he had exhausted himself so he could hardly move another muscle. Other times he would sit outside on the grass, staring straight ahead. I wondered what went through his head in those times, for he seemed so lost in those moments. Stuck in a state of constant torture. It was clear that he had trouble adjusting to this new life he had been given. 

With my room next to his it was easy to hear what went on in his. More than once had I heard him cry, rage and scream. His pain was eating at him, keeping him awake at night and isolating him. 

He was struggling and needed help, but I wasn’t sure how to offer any. If he wasn’t accepting it from Steve, why would he accept any help from me?

Still the next sleepless night, I waited for him to leave his room, before following him outside. Hesitation halted my steps as I watched him sit down in his usual spot. Finally I took a deep breath and opened the door to follow him, making sure to made a sound so he wouldn’t spook. At least if he heard me coming, he would be able to take himself out of the situation. 

His head perked up, but he remained seated as I moved closer. 

“Hi” I said softly, lowering myself down on the grass next to him. His eyes shifted over to me, but he didn’t say a word. His shoulders were tense and I knew I had to say something to make him relax. 

“Sorry to invade your space. I just…” for a moment I wasn’t sure what to say next, “I want to help you” 

“Help me?” His voice surprised you. It was soft, gruff and uncertain as he looked at me. Emotions seemed to wage a war behind those beautiful blue orbs and it took me by surprise. I’d never seen such devastation in a person before. Finally I could see just how broken he really was. It only made me want to help him more. 

“I’ve seen you come here. I’ve seen you struggle. I’m not trying to pry or make you do anything you don’t want too, but I’m told I’m a good listener.” Stopping a moment to look him in the eye before I spoke the next words, “I just want you to know that you don’t have to do this alone.” 

He didn’t say a word, but his shoulders slumped and his eyes moved straight ahead again, where he seemed to take in the dark shadows of the sunflower fields that surrounded the farm on three sides. 

After what seemed like an eternity he moved again, looking at me, and he opened his mouth. Nothing came out and he closed it again, looking down at his hands. Sensing he wanted to talk, I stayed silent as I watched him struggle to get words out. It took him a while, but finally he seemed  to figure out what he wanted to say. 

“He gave up everything for me. All of you did” he began, “I just don’t think I’m worth all that”. He sniffed and a single tear rolled down his cheek, effectively breaking my heart. Without thinking, I grabbed his hand in both of mine, holding it close to me. Surprised his looked down at our touching hands and I followed his gaze. I’d grabbed his metal arm. He seemed shocked by that fact. Not letting it go, I looked him in the eye. Hoping he could see my determination, my drive to truly be of help. 

“You’ve been through hell and back, you deserve better.” 

“I did horrible things” his voice cracked and it took all my willpower, not to hug him. He’d not been around kindness, touch must be difficult. Grabbing his hand had already been a bold move, huddling him could easily push him further away. I didn’t want that to happen at all. 

“You weren’t given a choice.” He shrugged at my words, as if that didn’t matter and I realised that in his mind it probably didn’t. He still had to live with the things he had done even if it had not truly been him. 

“Bucky listen to me” using one hand to turn his face in my direction, “I know you must feel responsible for all of it, but you are not. Your hands were forced, your mind was erased more times than any of us can even imagine. For years you had no control. You were tortured and forced to live a certain way. That is not on you.” 

“Then who?” He asked.

“It doesn’t matter who. Hydra was discovered and they will be dealt with. You need to focus on you now. Realise that you are a good person. Worthy of help. And you are only responsible for the moments where you had a choice.” 

He didn’t speak and I allowed the silence to sit between the two of us for a moment. His breath came out ragged and I began to draw circles on his back with the hand that had turned his face in my direction, while my other hand still held his cold metal hand close. 

“You’ll have to figure out who you truly are, without the strings hydra has been pulling for so long. I don’t think you can if you pull away from everyone. Let us help you” 

Releasing his hand, I impulsively pressed a kiss to his temple and got up off the ground. Without looking back, I walked back inside and went to bed, hoping that my words would have effect. 

The next morning as we sat in the attic, discussing our next move, the creaking of a floorboard caught our attention. Silence took the room immediately and Wanda quietly moved towards the stairway, hoping to get a feel of however was moving in our general direction. Soon a soft smile played on her lips as she moved to open the door that as blocking our view of the culprit. 

“Come in” her kind smile beaming at the intruder. As soon as she had begun smiling, everyone had instantly relaxed, she was the best judge of character anyone could ask for. And when Bucky hesitantly stepped into the room, a collective sigh passed. Steve moved quickly, enveloping him in a hug. Over Steve’s shoulder, Bucky caught my eye and I smiled at him, grateful that he took a chance. 

Over the course of the following two weeks, Bucky made an effort to be around the group an hour or two a day. He still wasn’t comfortable, but he was trying. Steve had been rejuvenated by the progress, walking with a spring in his step. Eager to figure a way out of their dire situation. Steve knew that they could not run forever. Yet there wasn’t a clear path to take. They were still wanted criminals, all of them. But they were human beings who had walked away from all the family they had known. Wanda was missing Vision more and more each day. Sam was going stir crazy, as was Natasha, especially with Clint gone. And the constant moving wasn’t easy on anyone.  We were all becoming increasingly tired. 

Those first two weeks, I had been convinced that I was helping Bucky. That being amongst the group would help him. I thought he was getting better. That he would start feeling better. Not until I caught him sitting outside of our current hideout in a small European town in the middle of nowhere, tears streaming down his face, that I suddenly realised he wasn’t mending. He was breaking. Seemingly conflicted as he sat there, his emotions clear on his face. 

Confronting him he had confirmed as much. He didn’t dare trust himself. He was afraid of his own mind. It was still so easily manipulated, since so little was known about what hydra had done to him. The trigger words that Zumo had used, they were still in there. If anyone else found out about them, he could easily be turned against anyone. He didn’t feel safe. He felt a danger to everyone that was trying to help him. He was afraid of himself and everything, since nothing in the world seemed familiar anymore. He was anxious all the time. 

Though I had wished to give him hope, wanted to help him, there was nothing I could say to ease those fears. Those were some well founded fears. And as hard as I tried, this was not something I would ever truly understand. I never had to be afraid of my own mind. It had never betrayed me like his had. Control had never been taken from me in such a massive way. 

All I could do was hold him, promising I would try and find a way to help him release those fears. 

And there was only one person in the world that I knew could help. 

The next morning I suggested we’d move south, to Wakanda. There we could recuperate for a moment. Allow ourselves to finally relax after weeks upon weeks of running. T’Challa had promised us a safe haven and we needed it now more than ever. Though I did not tell them just why. 

If I had known the choice Bucky would make over the following days, I’m not sure I would have made the same choices. Seeing Steve’s heart break over his friend, so shortly after thinking things were getting better, was hard. His fallen face and slumped shoulders were fixed in my memory. And as I said my goodbye to Bucky, right before he went back into cryo, my hopeful nature took a huge hit. I thought it had been my greatest asset, but it had been so wrong this time. Seeing the good in Bucky had not been enough. Trying to get him to see the good had not been enough. 

And now he was lost to them once more and the fight they had picked over him had suddenly seemed useless. 

It was hard telling myself that the fight had not been solely about Bucky, even though rationally I knew the truth of it. Right now it just seemed too difficult. 

And as I tried to comfort a crushed Steve, I wondered if I would feel that flutter in my heart again…the one Bucky had caused when I first laid eyes on him. 

[monkey-network]

Good Stuff ~ Seven of the Season: SU Season 5

Wallop on my jollops, Batman, we got ourselves one of the best seasons of anime that I dare say will be the best of year in its entirety. I’m talking Mob Psycho 100 II like, holy shit, talk about doubling down on giving people a roller coaster of a time in the first month; it’s amazing. But enough about that, we’re talking about Steven Universe’s climatic season before Steven Universe 2 potentially blows us all away. Here be the TOP 7 Best Episodes of Steven U’s final season. Seven, because it’s lucky, babey. Okay *pops a beer* so....

Number 7: Can’t Go Back

It is something where I don’t hate Lapis as much as I’ve seen most else. So when we got an episode where Steven and Lapis get to casually talk to each other on the moon, I was definitely down with that. Wasn’t too big a fan of the musical number, but I liked that Steven and Lazuli just had a sincere yet casual chat about her situation after jetting off, Lapis coming to terms with her more aloof character, something I wanted more of from this series. However, the ending definitely set this back. In the sense that Lazuli was surely coming around, at the very least work through to shed off the fears she possessed previously, those doubts and anxieties are unnecessarily strengthened as the Pink Diamond plot gets in the way with Steven not even trying to stop and ease Lapis’ panic mode after his nightmare; practically made the episode just feel like set up for the Rose Quartz twist in that instant when it didn’t have to and Lazuli’s turnabout in Reunited feel slapdash. The casualness or laid back atmosphere of this is what I say made this episode in the list, but, with all due respect, fuck that ending.

6. Change Your Mind

It’s safe to say I was thoroughly entertained from this finale like my god, it just went all out with giving people the confrontation of a lifetime and I can’t stay mad at it. But, on rewatch, it loss the enticement when it’s pretty by the book. If Steven wasn’t Pink, I’d have no doubt that not only would this have been different, but would’ve been a whole lot challenging for Steven and everyone in its entirety. But for this, it’s kinda the prime example of why I see many be frustrated with this show: because you’re either with it and applaud it for its efforts or sit there empty or disappointed the second you turn your brain on and try to process what legit happened. And for me, the diamonds having a change of heart in their more abusive connection with Pink, Steven fusing with everyone, White Diamond not even fighting for her worldview after getting roasted one time, didn’t feel earned as it did just fall in place for Steven, the exception being his connection with Pink Steven. Everyone was just on the same page by the end, except for those forced shard fusions who writhe and scream in constant pain and agony, reaching out to escape their torment after the Diamonds approved experimentation on them; the ones who can't be fixed. I bet they're okay with the Diamonds laughing it up with Steven at a pool party. And as bombastic and emotionally charged as it was as a entertaining episode, it lacked coordination or a good semblance of logic to be a good episode.

Number 5: Pool Hopping

Honestly Garnet getting to act more eccentric, hanging out with Steven, is what made this episode stand out at first, but to see her acknowledge Steven’s growth, changing her perspective on him, is what made this a stand out episode. I like how this is parallel to season one’s Future Vision except it’s at no one’s fault and Steven is more comfortable with the unpredictability of things compared to beforehand. And what’s especially poignant about this is that it serves as both a standalone that genuinely felt like a “Season 5″ episode and in hindsight a great preface to Ruby and Sapphire’s arc later on. It’s pretty middle on the list because the next entries have a little more to them, but I nonetheless say this a great episode for Garnet.

Number 4: Reunited

I’d say any criticisms I have for this were how I felt about Change Your Mind but not as heavy. It was all entertaining, but loses momentum when you bother turning your brain on for a bit. Like, even on my first viewer, knowing full well that Steven is Pink, I figured soon as the Diamonds would arrive that “Ah, Steven’s gonna make them open up their eyes,” which initially diminished any impact the whole fight scene had on me; making it more of a laughable tussle then a serious root worthy standoff. It’s kinda hard to feel invested when you feel the protag’s not gonna lose in any semblance! But, what makes this generally better than Change Your Mind is the wedding part of it all. Man, if this episode was just about the wedding, it would’ve been #1 no question. The musical, the ceremony, Rubes and Sapphy in general, it all just came together like quality fettuccine! I’m a sucker for weddings and that was one of the best moments of the show.

Number 3: Escapism

I’ve already talked about this episode, almost ad nauseam, so if you wanna know more about why I say it’s the best of the Diamond Days arc, links here, here, and here. But long story short, this was an episode that utilized the point of the title extensively. In contrast to Steven and Connie’s barren situation, the episode was an escapism in a literal and figurative sense and even then, it’s one where Steven had to genuinely fight to get the ending he wanted. Reminded me a lot of one of my all time favorite books, The Odyssey. It’s one where I genuinely empathized with the kid’s struggles since he found his situation dire and serious. It was mostly absent of dialogue which made the visuals stand out more to me. And really, I had a laugh at how Steven was done with this shit which made his successes feel more.... gratifying, lack of a better term. And the cherry on top was the musical number, which had me thinking of its purpose for once. Needless to say, I enjoyed thinking about this episode.

Number 2: Back to the Kindergarten

This episode is an earnest time waster. I mean that as a big compliment and because it literally amounts to Peridot wasting time on futile efforts to come to a valid sense of self actualization. Seems episodes containing the shorty squad with Scallion head as the central focus amount to the most meaningful slice of life episodes and I’m for episodes like this. Raising the Barn was generally boring until the end, but this episode makes up for that with a solid experience for Peridot handling the aftermath of Lapis abandoning her. Amethyst was a direct, yet necessary push for Peridot to head to the Kindergarten, especially when she herself was pumped to go now knowing her lineage, and it was neat how Peridot’s newfound colorful perspective shined a profound light on how the Kindergartens were harmful to Earth. Even Steven was a great backbone to the others, being a good team player to both Peridot and Amethyst when they briefly tag teamed to be Smokey. While I was questioning why the trio were planting sunflowers in a place… devoid of sunlight, the end where Peridot looks over the leviathan batch of ‘em, signifying the vast opportunities she still has while alive, in comparison to the first train ride she had where she sulked away from the scenery, was a lovely feel to look back on. This was an enjoyable watch the whole way through and a good episode to think about from time to time. But I’d expect nothing less for best Crystal Gem.

Honorable mentions: Jungle Moon, The Trial, The Question, A Single Pale Rose

Number 1: What’s Your Problem?

My only complaint for this episode is the beginning where Amethyst is more callous than before, being generally ignorant to Pearl and Sapphire sobbing right in front of her. I understood what she was going for, doesn’t diminish the episode, but the writers made her sound pretty out of character. A great joke in this is when Amethyst tries to literally jet off and for a split second, I forgot that Steven can jump high and seeing him pounce at her just caught me off guard. Then we have the end, where, after trying to help him open up, Ame tells Steven that she’s tired of him having to carry the others’ melancholic baggage and that he deserves to have a voice for himself. And that… stuck with me, resonated with me because her putting her foot down felt honest, sincere, and to the point. And man, if I can resonate with a Steven Universe episode at this state, someone did something objectively right. I especially like that after her big moment, she playfully recoiled when Steven casually gave her a compliment to think about. I’d say it showed that Steven does want to express his feelings, but he feels that venting isn’t gonna resolve much like how it used to. It showed the two supporting each mutually without having to feel sorry for themselves. This episode not only boosted my love for Amethyst, other best Crystal Gem, her and Steven’s sibling bond over time, culminating to this moment, is what I enjoyed most about this series. If more episodes was like that third act, I would praise this show a whole lot more.

Won’t lie, got mixed feelings about this season. On one hand, it’s the Kingdom Hearts 3 of this series where there’s some finality to it, there was quite a lot to enjoy, and I feel relieved sticking by it the whole way. On the other hand, the majority of episodes didn’t faze me as much and it felt exhausting actually getting some finality to this series since this season took almost two years to premiere everything. At the very least, I’m optimistic in the fresh start SU 2 will potentially bring with the movie this coming fall; it’s gonna be the Knack 2 of Cartoon Network. In any case, my kudos to the crew for this series and their dedication* to it.

[floralseokjin]

;the touch of silk (m)

In a world where vampires coexist with the living, there are many humans looking for a cheap thrill…you’re ashamed to admit you’re curious too, putting to good use a dating app you find…but Min Yoongi is nothing like you imagined a vampire to be…

pairing; min yoongi x reader genre/warnings; (slight) sugar daddy! yoongi, vampire! yoongi, smut, romance, blood mentions, but nothing too crazy words; 14,221

⇶ more; black honey—sunday mornings—small things

⤑ read over on ao3 here

The first time you meet Min Yoongi it’s in a crowded bar. He’s sitting in the darkest corner, the muted lights illuminating his pale skin. He’s beautiful, even better than the pictures you’d seen online. His skin is blemish free, glowing with a freshness a dead person shouldn’t have. For he’s a vampire. Has been for over 90 years in fact, if what he put on his profile is correct. He’s older than your grandparents but doesn’t look a day over thirty; youthful forever, on this earth for eternity. Or until someone sticks a stake in his heart or he burns in the sunlight.

You’re not nervous or afraid. You’re unsure why because everyone you know is too scared to be in walking distance of the night crawlers. Not you, you’ve been curious ever since they began coexisting with you guys. Most are just like humans you think. Of course you get your bad vamps but you also get your bad humans too. You can list infinitely more serial killers that have been human as oppose to vampire. Yoongi actually laughs at you when you tell him the exact same thing.

“What’s so funny?” You ask, face puzzled.

“You do realise half those serial killers you think were human aren’t, right?” He tells you. “Jack the ripper, Cleveland torso murderer, black dahlia—all vampires. That’s why they never got caught.”

“You’re lying,” you accuse.

“Why would I lie to you?” He chuckles. “The clue is in the crime. All committed at night.”

“But none of those victims had bite marks,” you puzzle. It didn’t make sense.

“Cute,” he smirks. “You think vampires only kill for blood.”

That’s the first reminder you’re dealing with a vampire. Of course, Yoongi is as harmless as one can get, but that doesn’t mean he hasn’t hurt a person before, killed somebody once upon a time. You’re not dumb. You know how they work. It’s just some vamps get bored of the bloody and violent lifestyle quicker than others. They crave a normality to life only humans can have and some try really hard to follow the rules and make sure they’re as mortal as a vampire can get.

“Do you have a preferred blood type?” You ask.

Yoongi says he’s been drinking artificial blood ever since it came out, only choosing to feed from a willing mate for the real stuff. When he tells you that, your breath hitches because that’s what you’re here for right; a potential mate that will provide him company…and…other unorthodox activities that makes your stomach bounce around in desire. Min Yoongi is a good-looking man, even if he wasn’t a vampire, you’d bet the girls would be lining up for a go at him…and the men.

You watch him take the bottle in his hand and flip it around, the label now facing you and you see in big black text: A positive. That’s your blood type. It says so right on the dating profile you used to find him. If your mother knew her daughter was using satan worthy means to find a guy—or hell to that, find money, she’d go to her grave early. However, what she didn’t know won’t hurt her. After all, you were just having some fun.

“What does it taste like?”

Another question. At this rate he’ll think you’re interviewing him for a special piece in the city’s newspaper. He shrugs, dark fringe flopping in his face as he does so and you watch him take a large sip of the red liquid. He smacks his lips loudly, enjoying the taste as it laces his mouth and slips down his throat. For some reason, the sight makes your heart race; oddly erotic in the dimly lit bar and you know you have to control yourself. This is your first meeting, just to get to know one another. You are not supposed to be thinking about how beautiful he would look with his fangs extended and how much you would practically kill for that visual.

“Sweet,” he replies simply, a smile on his face, and you have to look away when your eyes lock, something about it too intense for you after all those thoughts. Sweet…did that mean you would taste sweet to him?

“Does the blood type really matter?”

“I mean, a casual vampire isn’t going to care about the blood type as long as the human is clean of diseases, but there are some who think they are the superior being and are owed whatever blood they choose. I have no time for those type of creatures,” he shrugs off, nose wrinkled in disgust and you’re surprised by the distaste for his own kind.

Granted, not every vampire is like he described. Some take to living life like normal humans; working beside you, dating humans, even getting married now the law had passed… But there are still some who think humans are inferior to them—whilst still taking all the privileges they can get from this world, you may add… You guess Yoongi has no time of day for those kinds of vampires, and for some reason that has you feeling some type of way.

“But you chose me because of my blood type, right? It says I’m A positive on my profile…”

For some reason you can’t shut up tonight. You should definitely feel more nervous, but instead, only a mild buzz of excitement flows through your veins. Some would say you’re reckless, but you see it as adventurous…

You watch him pause, placing his bottle down with a clank. When he smiles he looks you straight in the eye and your heart thuds against your rib cage. He’s breathtaking.

“No,” he shakes his head simply. “I chose you because I thought you were incredibly beautiful and I wanted to get to know you better. You are more than just a blood bag to me…”

And he stays true to his word.

You decide you want to see each other again and before you know it weeks have past, no blood taking in sight. He hasn’t even made a move in other ways … Not even a kiss. Of course there’s a hand on the small of your back when he leads the way and there’s definitely flirting going down. He can tell in your eyes you want him like no tomorrow but he’s a man of patience. He always seems to offhandedly mention he can wait eternity for things and you know deep down he’s teasing you. You wonder how long you have to wait…

You get along brilliantly though. He has a quick witted, dry sense of humour that you love. He can make you laugh till the sun comes up—quite literally. He also doesn’t seem to mind your fascination with him. He answers the questions you give to him with ease, but almost every time with a raised eyebrow, because well, you’re you.

“Have you ever killed someone?”

You whisper this question because you’re in a crowded art gallery. It still amazes you how businesses now open their doors at night as well as day. Although you aren’t surprised—double the business is always great. It’s while you’re viewing a pretty dreadful painting—not skill wise of course, just…content…a man covered in blood next to a dozen dead bodies or so, the question pops into your head. You’re comfortable enough to ask Yoongi, although whether he gives you an answer is another thing…

He raises that eyebrow slowly as you look up at him, expression innocent and he chuckles under his breath. “You are incredibly morbid.”

With a hand on your back he moves you along to the next painting—sunflowers, definitely more innocent and you guess he’s not going to reply. That is until you feel his mouth by the shell of your ear, breath hot as he whispers against it.

“I’m a vampire,” he tells you, as if it answers your question, and it does, for the most part.

But you’re curious, one day it could probably get you killed—in this world it could definitely get you killed…

“Of course I’ve killed people—humans, vampires,” he pauses as you hold your breath, in sudden shock at his frankness. “—never animals though, I love them too much.”

His hand’s still on your back, having dropped to the lowest point, just atop your bottom and it’s all you can feel, like it’s burning its way inside your body. His mouth is so close to your face you’ve never wanted to kiss him more, and you pray for it, even though it won’t happen in a place this full. Instead you bite down on your bottom lip and try to flush away the disappointment that fills you when Yoongi steps back and regains his position next to you, viewing the painting as if it’s the most interesting thing he’s ever seen. You bet he’s seen so many wonders of the world… You want to ask, but you’ve already filled your quota for tonight.

It’s when you’re leaving the gallery he feels the need to tell you something, as if it’s been weighing on his mind the whole time after you asked him that very personal question.

“I haven’t killed anyone in thirty years. Not since I decided I wanted to live a normal life.”

For some reason, knowing he hasn’t killed in your lifetime eases you slightly. As if knowing he’s been a good guy for a while now would make everything better for your mother if she accidentally found out her daughter was getting paid to date the living dead…

You scoff to yourself. Nothing would make it better.

Another question you’ve been dying to ask comes out one night after you’ve watched a late night showing at the movie theatre. The Great Gatsby. A movie set in the 1920s. By your calculations, if correct, Yoongi was turned in that decade. So naturally, while engrossed in the movie you can’t take your eyes off him, wondering what he’s thinking about, his gaze intense, forehead furrowed, deep in concentration. He’s lived through all that, you think. He’s seen the real thing.

The question comes out as he drives you home.

“How did you turn into a vampire?”

His story is a simple one. Love. The simplest, yet also most complex emotion. He fell in love with a vampire and upon finding out what she was, made the decision to ask her to turn him. It’s that of modern day books and movies, but it’s real for him. Very real. He’s proof—more than ninety years on. You want to know if he regrets it, if only just a part of him…but you decide that’s a question for another day…

Despite getting to know him as well as the back of your hand, he’s still yet to make a move. You enjoy his company and he’s the perfect gentleman but you’re growing restless. Being around him lately is like being attached to a ticking time bomb. With every little thing he does; a look and a smile your way, a touch or even just a brush against your arm, you’re weak and in fear of combusting.

That’s why you take it into your own hands one night…

You’re in a restaurant when the waiter seems a little on the judging side. Vampires have been coexisting with humans for over three years by now but obviously some people just don’t like it. However, what some really despise are the humans that choose to associate themselves with the creatures. Vampire sympathisers, that’s what they call them. And that’s you, you guess, if you’re going by their logic.

It’s when the waiter is handing you your food, just after serving Yoongi his bottle of blood that he whispers—looking you directly in the eyes, hate driving through them— “Enjoy your meal, vamp fucker.”

Yoongi hears it, of course he does, he’s a vampire. The waiter’s more than stupid. And as he turns to leave you notice Yoongi slam his fist on the table, face stern as he breathes angrily through his nostrils. You’re still in shock but you think fast and reach for his hand, squeezing it gently to silently warn him. There’s no point in letting those hateful people think they’re right.

The rest of the meal goes by pretty tensely. Yoongi is silent for most of it, only speaking when you try to make conversation. When you leave, he doesn’t give a tip and it’s when you’re walking to his car, stopping beside the passenger’s door to open it for you, that he finally makes conversation. And it’s not one you like.

“Are you sure about this?” He asks, and when you knit your forehead together in confusion, he coughs, clearing his throat to begin again. “Me? Are you sure about me?”

“Or course I am—

But he’s not listening, shaking his head as he begins to talk over you. You’re not even listening too by this point because he’s talking rubbish. If he thinks one idiots’ opinion is going to make you change your mind, then he doesn’t know you at all. The weeks of getting to know one another must have been a waste then…

“I understand if you don’t want to carry on this agreement. No hard feelings…”

He’s still going on and you roll your eyes in irritation. For a vampire he’s not very head strong. He has it all wrong. What happened inside the restaurant doesn’t make you change your mind regarding him, more like another knock when it comes to the compassion of humans on this planet.

Yoongi is a gentleman. A kind, well spoken vampire, who could show them a thing or two when it comes to this world. To realise he thinks so lowly of himself that he would come to the conclusion you don’t want him anymore, just because of a rude imbecile’s comment is shocking. Yoongi is twice the man—yes man, because he’s more than a vampire— than that guy will ever be, and he needs to know it.

He’s still mumbling about god knows what when you go to kiss him. You don’t think too hard, because if you do, you know you won’t do it. His lips are soft, partially wet because they’re still parted. His breath hitches once he realises what’s happening, body freezing, but he doesn’t push you away. You peck at his mouth, once, twice, a third time, cautiously as you wait for him to kiss back and it’s as your lips press for a fourth, that he does.

He’s just as gentle, as if he doesn’t want to mess it up and you brave it, reaching out to press your palms against his shoulders, wanted to feel him a little. After a moment, he’s doing the same, reaching out to hold your neck, angling your chin so he can deepen the kiss.

His lips aren’t cold like you imagined, or hard. They’re plush and warm against yours, applying hardened pressure as he hums in approval. Both the sound and vibration do something to you, you’re unsure what, but you feel the tingling all over your body and gasp a little. The sticky sound as your mouth parts greater against his sounds in your ears and then his tongue hints across your bottom lip, seeking permission to enter.

The kiss isn’t greedy or eager. You’re just both enjoying the sensation—the sensation you’ve craved since you met him. There has been no doubt in your mind since the first time you met Min Yoongi, he’s different. There’s something about him.

He pulls away suddenly, turning his head away from you and for a moment you’re confused, until he whispers a sorry, and then it all makes sense. His fangs are out. You feel your cheeks heat up. If that’s not a for sure sign that he’s enjoying himself then you don’t know what is. It must be a bind to hide, but you don’t care anyway. Why does he need to hide from you?

Without thinking you take his face in your hands and make him look at you again. You’re in awe for a moment, eyes flicking over his face before they land on his protruding fangs. They shine in the moonlight and he looks beautiful. So beautiful in fact, you kiss him again.

He doesn’t pull away.

You kiss a lot during the next couple of weeks. But if you thought this was to mark a change in your relationship, you’re wrong. Kissing is all you do, and you’re losing your patience. How are you expected to keep your cool when you have to see him multiple times a week? You’re turning desperate, and he knows it too.

Tonight you have your arms wound tightly around his middle, hugging him to your body that’s flat against your front door, mouth attached to his. He’d walked you to the threshold after your date, not expecting and surprised when you’d flung yourself at him dramatically. He’s into the kiss—you wouldn’t continue to embarrass yourself if you knew he wasn’t—he’s hard against your pelvis. The sensation only makes you more desperate, a wanton mess, before you try to pull him back when he breaks away. His fangs are out again and he’s partially out of breath.

“Let me see them,” you beg, tugging at the collar of his black coat.

“You have a fetish, Miss,” he chuckles, but he lets you have him.

Kissing when his fangs are extended isn’t as hard as you’d thought it would be. Each time they drag across your parted mouth or each time you run your tongue along them, you’re reminded of how much he’s into this—you. And oh, are you into him too. You want him. All of him. You want to feel what it’s like to be pleasured by him, taken by him.

But for some reason he thinks each opportunity isn’t the right one.

“Are you trying to end me?” He pulls away, voice affected terribly because you’ve just shamelessly ground against his erection. “We’re in public.”

“There’s no one about,” you shrug, straightening his collar that’s been pulled all shapes. “Besides, why don’t you just come inside?”

There’s a teasing to your voice that he hears but doesn’t do you any favours. Instead, it’s him doing all the messing around when he smiles and replies, “maybe another time.”

Before you can reply he has his hand in your coat pocket, reaching for your keys. In one motion they’re in the door and he’s turning the lock. You look up at him to see a smirk on his face and you scowl, to which he chuckles loudly.

“Goodnight,” he whispers, bending to kiss your cheek. “See you next time.”

And then he’s gone.

You don’t wait till next time. You mean business when you try and seduce him tonight. It’s halloween, and you know just the thing. Yoongi has mentioned in passing that he owns a nightclub. Not your average one at that. One for vampires…and humans. A place for folk to quench their curiosity. He’s told you the name of the place so it takes no time at all to google and find the address.

Club Dead.

It’s a little out of town but nothing that a taxi can’t solve and as you get out and pay the guy you stop to look up in awe. The building’s all black, door bright red and you can hear the blaring music and crowd from out here. It’s crazy to think Yoongi owns this place. It’s even crazier to realise he’s in there right now. And you’re turning up unannounced. Nerves fill you, but you carry on and step inside.

The place is pact, it’s hard to tell whose vampire and who is human. It’s even harder to find Yoongi. Maybe he’s in his office… Now that you’re here you realise you haven’t thought this out much… The club is loud and not your scene at all. Call him! That’s a great idea, but as you reach for your phone you’re interrupted when a large hand squeezes your ass.

“Hey there, pretty little thing,” the suspects voice leers in your ear and a bolt of dread flies through your body.

You twist on instinct, knowing it’s better to be facing this creep than have him behind you and you shoot him a look. Whatever he just did does not work as a flirting technique, it’s impossible to ever think it would. The stranger is middle aged and muscular, shaved head and from what you can see of his body, filled with tattoos. He’s still leering at you and you skin crawls.

“What’s a sweet girl doing in a place like this? Curious, are we?”

You swallow slowly, unsure if you can reply, but the more you stay silent the quicker he will realise he has the upper hand, and you can’t have that. While thinking, Yoongi suddenly pops into your brain and you wish he was here right now…maybe if you shouted, he’d hear you? You take a step back quickly, bumping into someone as they walk past. “I’m here to meet somebody,” you explain quickly, voice tight.

The stranger makes a show of looking left and right before a grin appears on his face. It’s not a nice grin, it’s unnerving and ugly, and you’re beginning to wish you’d never stepped foot inside this place. What were you thinking?

“I don’t think they turned up, babe. Why don’t I show you a good time instead?”

Whatever your retort was going to be, it’s wedged in your throat when you see the guy extend his fangs. He’s a vampire, and for some reason that makes this whole thing scarier. Just knowing that he’s definitely quicker than you, stronger than you and deadlier than you, has your heart beating ninety to the dozen.

“N-no thanks,” you speak up, trying to sound firm but the stutter gives you away and he laughs in your face, taking a step closer.

You shrink back, ready to scream if you have to, but then you feel an arm wrap around your waist. You jump, turning your head, almost expecting to see another one, but before you can see the new person’s face, you smell him. It’s Yoongi, and you’ve never been more relieved to see anyone in your whole life. His face is as hard as stone as he surveys the other vampire, and you almost shudder when you see how cold his eyes look.

“Get out.”

The stranger laughs again. “Who are you to tell me to get out?”

“I own this place.” Yoongi states, voice like ice, and you watch the shock appear on the vampire’s face for a moment, before he shrugs and smirks.

“Fine, but at least let the girl come with me.”

Your heart starts pounding again, afraid, because it looks like he’s not giving up. You shrink back into Yoongi further and he tightens his grip around your waist, reassuring you silently that he won’t let anything happen to you.

“She’s not going with you,” he chuckles darkly.

“Don’t you think it’s her decision?”

“She’s mine,” Yoongi snarls and even though you can’t see, you hear… His fangs are out and the stranger’s eyes widen in shock before he scowls, realising he’s lost and he storms away. Yoongi’s eyes don’t leave his figure until he’s out the club.

You go to say something to him, mouth open but before any sound comes out, he’s pulling you by the hand, making his way through the crowd. “Come,” he orders.

You follow behind him until you arrive at a door and he leads you inside. The room is square in shape, walls white with a desk in the centre. You guess it’s his office. The door clicks shut and you automatically turn to face him with a heavy heart, knowing he’s about to berate you. You’re not even half way done turning before you’re proven right.  

“What are you playing at?”

“I wanted to see you…” you tell him curtly, hands clasping in front of your lap.

“So you turn up unannounced?!” He exclaims. “This place is dangerous.”

Your narrow your eyes. “Why, because I’m a woman?”

“No.” He shakes his head tightly, “because you’re a human.”

You have no answer to that. He’s probably right. A club filled with vampires probably only means one thing and he proves it in his next statement.

“If you’re here, vamps automatically think you’re down for some fun.”

You are definitely not down for some fun—well, not with a stranger anyway… You’re here for Yoongi, and Yoongi only. There’s a moment of silence, an unspoken “I told you so,” hanging in the air before he has his hand on your hip, his head cocked to the side as he looks down at you, forehead creased in concern.

“Are you okay?”

You nod quickly. Now that Yoongi’s with you there’s no need to feel scared or worried. You know he’ll protect you, and you’ve never felt safer.

“How did you know I was in trouble?” You ask, mildly curious because you hadn’t seen him at all when you’d first stepped in the club.

“I think I’m finally tuned into your voice now,” he smiles briefly, but you’re hardly listening because you’ve just remembered something else… Something that had made your heart jump around like crazy for a moment back outside.

You must look like you’re in your own little world because you’re suddenly aware that Yoongi is looking at you slightly perplexed, wondering why you have such a massive grin on your face probably…

“What?” He wonders out loud.

“You called me yours,” you more or less glee, unashamed to tell him because, well, he’s the one who said it after all.  

He keeps a straight face and you watch him swallow before he’s taking a step closer. You’re hovering against the side of his desk when his arms wrap around your waist tightly, pressing your bodies together. “Are you not?” He asks, shrugging a little, a smug attitude that has your belly fizzing a little.

Even more so when he leans into kiss you, parting your lips instantly with his. His breath is hot and tickly, a sensation you will never get used to because he’s a vampire, he’s supposed to be dead! So why does kissing him feel so real? You could lose yourself in him and just when you’re about to, he pulls away. It’s always him pulling away, never you, because you want him. You crave him.

“What are you wearing?” He questions, one eyebrow raised as he holds you at arms length, eyes racking up and down your body, like he’s only now realised. For a vampire, he’s not very observant.

“It’s halloween,” you quip, tugging at the hem of your dress self-consciously.

“It’s not very scary,” he shoots back, looking at you as if you have two heads.

You take a deep breath, bracing yourself a little before you carry on. “I wanted to dress up for you.”

It was true. You’d gone looking for the outfit yourself a couple of days ago, knowing exactly what you wanted to get. After watching that movie the other week with him, you couldn’t stop thinking about human Yoongi. In his element, in his decade. You’d wanted to be a part of that, or at least just a reminder of the past.

“Don’t I look good?” You press, feeling a tad nervous now that he hasn’t replied yet, still looking at you, but now features etched in deep thought. You tug at the hem of your flapper dress once again, feeling the dark embellishments graze against your fingers and fiddle with your hair. You hold your breath and wait, relief flooding you when he pulls you closer once more.

“You look amazing,” he beams, leaning in to kiss the tip of your nose.

Your heart floods with warmth and it’s all you can do just to busy yourself and ask another question—changing the subject almost.

“What about you? Why aren’t you dressed up?”

“I’m too old for that,” he shrugs, going in for another peck at your lips and you kiss him back, all the while still trying to keep conversation going.

“I forgot you’re nearly a hundred,” you tease.

“Nearly 130 if we’re going to be exact,” he hums against your mouth, eyes catching yours as they dance with something… The atmosphere has changed by now, your voices low and breathing quiet.

“You look good for an old man,” you manage to get in with a grin before he’s kissing you with more vigour; eager and hard.

You latch onto him, arms around his neck as he pushes you against the edge of his desk, his hands traveling down your back until his palms are lying flush against your butt. It’s a new sensation. He’s never shown such keen interest like this before and your belly twists in delight, unable to stop yourself when a moan escapes your throat.

He likes that. His own gruff moan of approval sliding from him too as he pulls away for a moment to look at you, one of hands appearing again to cup your cheek. You try to keep his gaze but for some reason it’s difficult. His eyes are dark and intense, something you haven’t quite seen before and you end up shying away from him. He smirks, leaning forward, and you think he’s going to kiss you again—well, he does, just not on the lips.

His mouth feels foreign on your neck, wet tongue running against your sensitive flesh, plush lips sucking marks that stain your skin. You’re a mess now, a slave to his touch and you become weak in his arms, needing his body to hold you up. It finally feels like this is going somewhere. Something you’ve wanted for a while now and your heart is pounding at the thought. He wants you.

You’re able to think a little clearer when he pulls away again, letting him peck at your open mouth, both hands now holding your face. The first words that come out of your mouth are I missed you, but before you can wait for some kind of reply, you’re gasping in shock, taken by surprise when he grips your hips and pushes, lying you on top the desk in one fluid motion, his own body gracing over yours. You’re sure you’re lying on various things that are strewn

on his desk, stacks of paper, maybe even a pen digging into your spine—as your head falls back you realise you’re using a laptop for a pillow—but that doesn’t matter, not when you feel his mouth on yours again.

“It’s only been a few days,” he murmurs against yours, but you don’t mind. He must have missed you too if he’s acting like this and you grin against his lips, which he returns immediately.

You’re at a loss for words when his mouth trails down your chin and somehow he’s still kissing you. Feeling his lips and hints of wet tongue at your cleavage is enough to make you stop breathing for a moment, your body weak for his touch. You’re already squirming under him, his large hands clamping down on your hips as he holds you still and the heat between your bodies is almost burning you. You want him. So bad. And with the way he’s acting it seems it’s finally about to happen. You hadn’t expected it to be at such a place, but you want him so bad, you really don’t care.

“You really do look beautiful like this,” he awes, eyes locking when you look down to see him kissing at your stomach. The sensation is frustrating, wanting to know what it would be like without your dress working as a barrier. You want to feel him against your bare skin, and you’re beyond control, especially when he’s prying apart your legs to kiss just below your knee.

“W-will they miss you out there?” You manage to get out, although your voice is shaky by now.

It’s your way of trying to gauge what’s happening right now. Is this really going to carry on? You need to know so you can brace yourself. He shakes his head and carries on kissing your body, mouth behind your knee now, the most sensitive of places that has you gasping again, body jumping a little when you feel his fangs graze your flesh. You hadn’t even noticed they were out again, that’s how used to them you were, but now that you’ve felt them, you begin to wonder…

Yoongi had never discussed biting you, apart from when you’d first met at that bar and he’d told you he only feeds of humans if they’re mates, but you can’t say you’re not curious. You’ve heard during sex it’s the most divine pleasure and as you start thinking about it, and he’s still kissing up your leg, at your thighs now, dress falling up to reveal your skin, you begin to get more and more turned on; flesh clammy and breathing shallow. He’s so close to between your legs and your imagination only runs wild. You’re wet, you can feel it sticking to your underwear, see your nipples visibly poking out against the fabric of your dress. Your hands are getting ready to grip his shoulders, to get you ready for whatever’s about to come, but then—

“Yoongiiii,” you can’t help but whine as you feel him pull away from you.

“What?” He deadpans, acting none the wiser, when he knows exactly what he’s done.

You sit up slowly, dissatisfaction filling you as you realise what you want isn’t going to happen tonight. Your left turned on and annoyed, your wet thighs from all his kisses drying in the cold air, only adding to the memory that those few minutes are now.

“Did you think I was going to take you on my office table with an audience at the other side of the door?” He asks with a cocked eyebrow.

In more stable conditions, no, but he’d got you so riled up—on purpose, you may add, that you really wouldn’t have cared if he had. Just him saying the phrase ‘take you’ is enough to add to your colossal amount of sexual frustration, but you grin and bear it, standing up to face him, tugging your dress back in place.

“I should order you a taxi to take you home, I can’t leave this place until closing time and you’re definitely not staying in this cesspit one second longer,” he tells you, straightening up his collar. He pauses to watch you for a moment, a smirk widening on his face.

“You’re cute when you’re pouting,” he notes and you quickly rush to tell him he’s wrong. You’re not pouting, nope, not at all—even though yes, yes you are, but he doesn’t need to know that. However before you can, he’s making you gasp again, twisting your body to his so your back is against his chest. He does it on purpose, maybe to ease your worry—he’s hard under his slacks, because he wants you too. And that’s enough to get you home tonight without much of a fuss.

Your breath catches when you hear his voice against your ear, his words not helping your predicament at all. “…and when you’re trembling—desperate.” He enunciates each syllable clearly, making you wonder how it’s possible a voice can do such things to you and you collapse a little, just wanting him so much.

“I can hear your heart racing, your breathing’s out of control,” he carries on. “You deserve better than a quick fuck in my grotty club. You mean too much to me…”

You freeze abruptly, that one word swirling around your mind. Fuck, fuck, fuck….fuck. You feel like you’re dangling on the end of a string, your whole body burns with a want so deep it aches…and he loves every minute of it. Of course he does, for he has eternity to tease.

“Don’t worry,” he husks, his breath hitting your ear and it sends shivers up your spine, glad his body is behind you, so you can use him for support. You need it by the time he finishes.

“The wait’ll be over soon—but remember—I’ll have you when I say.”

The wait is over two weeks later. You nearly burst from all the wanting and longing when a package arrives at your apartment one morning and you open it to find a gift and a note inside. Yoongi’s note instructs you to open the large package first, tied with a black bow. You gasp when you unfold a stunning emerald green silk dress. You wonder if you can pull off such a piece, will it drape and flow in the right places?—Do you even have shoes that match? You’re too busy fretting that you nearly forget about the smaller package left in the box and when you open that next, you forget how to breathe. Lingerie. Staring at the items you reach out with a delicate hand, running your fingertips over the black lace, excitement and apprehension washing over you. His note now carries a different meaning.

Accompany me for dinner at my home tomorrow night. I’ll call a car for you. Remember to wear your gifts.

Forever yours, Yoongi.

.

.

You’ve never stepped inside his home in all the weeks you’ve been getting to know one another. It’s more than beautiful when you finally do, interior antique and gothic. Only what you would’ve guessed for Yoongi. It suits his aura, and now that you’re wearing the dress he’s purchased, you feel like you fit in.

To your surprise, he has dinner laid out for you on the dining table. It looks absolutely mouthwatering, and unless he’s hiding the fact he’s a chef now, you know he’s had someone cook for you. The fact that he’s pushing out all the stops tonight has your heart racing. You can’t help but wonder what’s going to happen next.

However, just like Yoongi, he plays it off cooly. He speaks about work, asking you all the small details, how you’ve been, what’ve you been up to… He’d casual and unfazed, sipping on his carbonated blood that takes the place of your champagne. You try to stay as collected as him, but you feel as if you’re on edge. Each nerve in your body is buzzing and you can’t seem to calm yourself. Your legs rattle anxiously under the table and you have to force your food down. You even leave half your lemon cheesecake. It’s heartbreaking. But you can’t seem to concentrate, under your dress the lingerie he picked out burns into your skin. Tonight is the night. It has to be. And you can’t keep imagining what’s to come.

After dining is done and you’ve had more than enough anxiety inducing small talk, that you can’t remember properly because your brain is fried, he asks if you want to see the rest of his house. You nod, unsure of what this entails, but a part of you knows the tour will end in his bedroom, so you wonder behind him, trying to practice your deep breathing exercises.

However, as soon as you step into one room—a music room of sorts, you guess—you see a musical instrument in one corner and gasp, all nerves disappearing for a moment.

“A piano,” you sigh in wonder and he nods—proudly you may add, and that makes you realise something. “You play?”

“It was…my occupation, shall we say, before I was turned into a vampire,” he explains slowly, He pauses while he thinks for a moment, and then he adds. “Want me to play something?”

“Yes please,” you half-plead. You’ve loved the sound of a piano ever since you were a little girl and to hear one right beside you—for your ears only, is a dream come true. Especially played by Yoongi.

You keep to his side as he sits down, hands hovering over the keys before he begins playing from memory, or maybe he’s just that talented the music flows from his fingertips. You’ve never heard the melody before and you wonder if it’s one of his own. Is he even more skilled than you first thought? Your heart fills with something at the thought, pride? It’s hard to pinpoint, but warmth floods your chest and you can’t help but sway to the tune a little on the spot.

He’s still playing when he turns his head to gaze at you, a smile appearing on his face. “You want to dance,” he realises, and stops playing abruptly. “Let me stop, play some music on vinyl so I can show you how talented I am at dancing too.” He jokes with a chuckle.

Your heart fizzes at the thought. He can dance, too? And you’re about to dance with him? He sets up the record carefully and takes your hands as the warm music fills the room. As he leads you, you almost forget that a moment ago you were aflame with nerves. Now you feel relaxed and at ease, gazing up at Yoongi as he grins at you. He looks beautiful, black hair styled against his forehead, the crispest of white shirts on, complete with a black bow tie. He looks radiant and you feel the same, it glows off you.

“I wish I could have seen you back then.”

The words fall out of your mouth before you can think. It’s something you’re curious about, and seeing him like this just makes you even more inquisitive.

“You forget,” he smiles, slowing your steps down.  “I never age. I looked the same then as I do now.”

“Still,” you argue, “just to see human Yoongi—to see if you’re the same.”

“Personalities don’t change no matter how many years go by.”

“So you’re saying you think you’re the same?” You ask sceptically.

“Expect for the insatiable need for blood, yes,” he jokes, halting all movement by now.

You’re still cynical. You don’t believe for one second a person would stay the same if they’ve been on the planet for over a hundred years—even more so seeing as said reason was because they were a vampire. Yoongi defies some of the things this world knows about the species, but you don’t think that doesn’t mean he hasn’t changed to adapt. Everything about him interests you and you can’t help but want to know more. You want to know everything about his life.

“Did it hurt when you got turned?”

Your question hangs in the air for a moment as he regards you. You can tell he’s not used to telling a person so much about his life, but when he opens his mouth to answer you, you’re filled with warmth, because he trusts you.

“No,” he shakes his head. “I was so in love I didn’t feel a thing.”

His reply surprises you. You know he turned for love, but imagining such a thing is incomprehensible. Not because you can’t imagine Yoongi loving someone, it’s just beyond fathomable to imagine loving someone so much that you’d want to live forever. That’s a commitment to make. One you wouldn’t take lightly. Was he that smitten that he became jaded?

“With your maker?” You ask, even though you know the answer already.

“Olivia,” he nods, “yes.”

He shifts on his feet and lets go of your hands. He’s not awkward, if anything it seems like he wants to talk about it, or at least wants to tell you. He’s just building himself up. Hearing her name makes her so much more real. You wonder what she looked like, beautiful no doubt, and you wonder—

“What happened to her?”

“She died,” he replies quickly.

“Oh,” you let out, shocked and instantly feeling like a fool. “I’m sorry, I didn’t—

“It was a long time ago,” he interrupts. “Before you were born. So I wouldn’t worry yourself with condolences.”

“W-what happened?”

He shakes his head and chuckles quietly, amused by something. “You really are curious. One day it could get you killed, do you know that?”

You’re silent in reply because he’s probably right. Your curiosity got you this far after all, and that run in at Yoongi’s club was pretty scary. Maybe you shouldn’t try to appease your wonder all the time.

“She couldn’t live without me,” he continues regardless and you frown a little. Where did he go? Why did they part ways, if they did at all?

“B-but…”

“I didn’t want her anymore. I didn’t love her,” he cuts in again and your eyes widen in shock, his honesty surprising you. How could someone who loved a person that much just fall out of love?

“I guess people fall out of love after years of bloodlust and bloodshed,” he shrugs, and things finally begin to make sense…

“I…I didn’t want to be that person anymore…a murderer—a monster…” he carries on, voice firmer, brave now. “Every time I looked at Olivia I was just reminded of all the terrible things I had done. I’m not one for blaming my actions on other people, but I knew without her I would be able to ease my conscience, or at least begin to anyway…”

“You broke her heart?” You whisper, not meaning to rub salt on the wound, but just to articulate your thoughts. That’s why she had died, because he wasn’t in love with her anymore… She couldn’t take it anymore…

Yoongi nods solemnly, sighing a little before he replies. “It turned out she still loved me as deeply and madly as she had the first day she’d met me, playing at a bar in France. In the end, she couldn’t bear life without me by her side…”

“How did you take it?”

“Would you think badly of me if I told you all I felt when she left was relief?” He asks you, regarding you seriously. “There was no more constant reminder of every horrendous thing that I had done in this world hanging over my head. I felt free. Being with her for so long sucked away all my humanity and it took me years to build it up again. Olivia had no humanity, that’s why she worked well as a vampire. I on the other hand…” he fades off, and you don’t think badly of him at all. How can you? The situation is a complex one and one you will never understand because you’d never lived it. You’re a human. It can never make perfect sense…

“I regret what happened—what I did to her in the end, but mainly I regret begging her to turn me,” he tells you truthfully and that’s one thing you can’t agree on.

“You shouldn’t regret it,” you argue, stepping towards him and cupping his cheek tenderly. “You’re an amazing, kind man.”

It’s true that you didn’t know him all those decades before. You don’t know what he’s done, or what he’s capable of—you can only imagine. However, what you do know is the here and now and the man that’s stood in front of you is breathtaking. He’s worked hard to change his life and because of that, you’re deeply proud of him.

“Man?” He questions, looking confused.

“Yes, man,” you smile. “That’s what you are to me.”

His forehead is crinkled as he thinks your words over and then he’s smiling back at you, holding your hand that’s gripping his cheek.  

“You’re sweet—too sweet for a man like me,” he tells you, leaning in to place a kiss on your lips.

“I don’t think so,” you murmur, rubbing your nose against his and then you’re kissing him yourself, hard, trying to show him how you really feel with actions because words are sometimes hard to express.

You don’t stop at his mouth, pulling away to kiss at his cheeks, nose, eyelids, whatever you can reach and he laughs and lets you. The sound is different to what you’re used to, more like a giggle, innocent and full of life and now you don’t feel anxious at the thought of spending the night with him. All this time you’ve been desperate to take it to the next stage but you’d missed the point; all this time was taken to get to know each other and now you’re fully comfortable with whatever happens next. Your relationship may not be a real relationship, Yoongi may buy you things and pay you to keep him company, but that doesn’t matter. There’s a friendship there, an attraction—a connection, and it’s special. Truly special.

Yoongi pulls away for a moment, out of breath and gasping. “When I’m with you,” he awes, “when I kiss you,” and to signify his point he kisses you again, breaking away with a groan, clutching the back of your head as he holds you to him. “I feel human again.”

Your heart clatters about in your chest, the blood rushing to your face, loud in your ears, his confession catching you off guard and it’s all you can do but to kiss him again, breaking away with a grin and your own admission.

“When I’m with you I feel invincible.”

He pauses for a moment and then he’s grinning. “The perfect match then,” and you nod. It’s true, at least it feels like it is. You’re kissing again, hands running over one another’s bodies. It seems natural tonight—no rush, no urge, just a mutual understanding. A mutual want, that’s finalised when Yoongi stops to regard you, eyes dark and loving as he asks the last question.

“Do you want to see the rest of my home—my bedroom?”

.

.

His room is spacious and dark, a large four poster bed on the back wall. It smells like him. You also find it funny how he needs such a place when he doesn’t even sleep up here, but it’s beautiful either way. You wonder behind him, hand latched in his as he leads you to the foot of the bed and he turns to face you, placing one gentle kiss on your mouth before he’s behind you, hand at the zip of your dress. You shudder in anticipation, chest heaving with adrenaline as you try to calm your excitement, pressing your palms to your lap in a bid to stay still.

“Did I tell you how beautiful you look tonight?” He murmurs and all you can do is nod, not trusting a single word to come from your mouth. Every sense is heightened right now, you can hear him begin to drag the zip down, the noise sending goosebumps down your spine, his other hand holding the top of your arm, hot under his touch, and then his breath hits the shell of your ear and it’s all over.

“Green is your colour, but I know black will be too.”

The zip hits the small of your back, straps falling down your shoulders to reveal the back of your bra to him, the black lace snug against your skin. Your heart is drumming loudly, waiting patiently for him to push the silk down your hips and finally his hand is leaving your arm to hold the fabric. He moves slowly, letting your straps fall fully down your arms to land in front of you and then he pushes downwards, the smooth silk sliding around the curve of your hips and ass. It glides off your body. He barely touches your skin which only makes you crave him more, and before you know it you feel a puff of air as your dress falls from you, pooling at your feet. There’s a pause as you wait for him to say something and you jump a little when he leans forward and kisses your cheek.

“Turn around for me,” he husks against your ear and you belly starts doing somersaults.

It seems like it takes a lifetime to face him, goosebumps appearing across the surface of your skin even though the room is warm. You lift your gaze once you’ve made it, catching his eye before his fall to your body, soaking in the sight of your lacy lingerie. Your brain tells you, you should feel self-conscious, but that’s far from the truth. You feel the most comfortable you’ve ever felt, even while he stands before you fully dressed. It’s exciting and you gasp a little when he places the palms of his hands on your hips, skin colder than yours.

“Beautiful,” he awes, and your heart swells, waiting with bated breath for his next move, every nerve in your body vibrating.

He leans in to kiss you, once, hard on the mouth before he’s pulling away and telling you to get on the bed. Again, time seems to move slowly as you climb on top the mattress, it’s like you’re on pins, willing time to go faster so you can finally feel him.

“Can you sit against the headboard?” He asks as he watches you move and you nod, sitting up so that your back is half leaning on the silk covered pillows and half against the wood of the large carved headboard. The cold is a welcomed relief against your flush skin.

You watch him admire you for a moment, feeling a little overwhelmed, your legs unsure of what to do as you slide your feet against the bedsheet, looking for an appropriate way to place them. It seems too nerving to spread them, knowing he has a perfect view between them, so you settle on lying them flat to the bed. He smirks at something, you’re unsure what, maybe at your obvious fidgeting, and proceeds to unclip his bow tie, dropping it to the floor as he loosens a couple of his buttons with one hand—the large hand, the veins visible. Everything about this moment has your stomach dancing in anticipation.

You’re squeezing your thighs together by the time he joins you on the bed, crawling over you like an animal, still fully dressed and he uses his knees to spread your legs apart, fitting between them perfectly, the texture of his pants brushing against your bare skin. You go to open your mouth to speak but he’s on you again, kissing you hungrily, hands on either side of shoulders, gripping the pillows tightly, a growl leaving him. Your tongues mash together, messy and powerful, fighting to taste every last bit of one another. It has you moaning, finally all that pent-up tension being realised. He has you here, on his bed and it’s only going to end one way.

“You look good on my bed,” he rasps, sliding his mouth down your chin. “Maybe you should stay here forever.”

“That doesn’t seem like a bad idea,” you admit, unable to think of anything better at this moment in time, and you go to tell him that but end up gasping when his tongue runs along your collar bone, fangs grazing against the bone. Your body jerks up, unable to control itself, it craves him and you can’t stop it. You don’t what to stop it.

He’s kissing across your chest now, the swell of your breasts getting all the attention, but he still doesn’t touch you with his body; hands still gripping the pillows and body hovering away from you, a barrier that you don’t want to exist. You want his body against yours to ease the pressure, to feel him. You moan loudly when he starts sucking one of your nipples through the black lace, your heart falling back and hitting the headboard with a thud. Your hands shoot out to grip him—his hair, head, neck, whatever you can reach but he growls and grabs at them, pinning you down as he links his fingers with yours.

Kissing your chest feels pleasurable but it’s also sending you crazy, the pressure between your legs building up as you twist and turn, trying to relieve it desperately. He likes that, chuckling against your chest, fangs nipping at your breasts and that only sends you further out of control, belly plummeting as you feel the obvious wetness form inside your panties. The idea of him piecing your flesh is too much, sucking your blood, tasting the rich liquid you want to give him so badly…it’s making you whine, uncontrollable in his grip. You want that pleasure—you need that pleasure.

He pulls away with a gasp, surprising you slightly when he leans towards your face to rub his nose against yours, leaving go of one of your hands to run through your hair. His mouth is open as he pants loudly, fangs displayed for you to see perfectly. He looks divine—mouthwatering, and with your chest heaving you reach up with shaky fingers to touch his them, gliding your fingertips over the sharpest point. He shudders at the action, eyes closed and when he finally opens them again, they’re as black as the night sky, bearing into your soul, pleading almost.

“Let me taste you,” he whispers and you let out a breath. Is it that everything you want tonight will come true?

“Please,” he adds, looking hopeful, and you nod.

You’d want nothing more. Leaning up to kiss him, he smiles against your lips. It’s chaste before he pulls away and whispers in your ear, his hot breath tickling you, sending shivers of pleasure up your spine.

“It won’t hurt, I promise,” he tells you, and his caring attitude knocks you a little, heart swelling inside your chest. You’ll never get over how chivalrous he is, even when he’s begging to bite you…

“It’ll feel good,” he carries on, placing a kiss against your neck. “I’ll make you feel good.”

His voice is low and effects you immensely. You want him to make you feel good, you really do. It’s all you can think of, and then you’re pulling him back to you, kissing him slowly, smiling shyly when you pull back to divulge something.

“I want to make you feel good too.”

He chuckles at that, kissing your forehead before straightening up, running his hands down your sides, finally touching you and you sink further down the bed. “You are already—trust me,” he lets you know and you smile wider, only to shriek suddenly when a hand travels to your chest and rips your bra in one clean movement, lace snapping in half to reveal your breasts, cold air hitting your nipples.

Your speechless at his strength, something he hasn’t shown you properly before and your heart pounds in your chest, looking up at him in awe. You only ease up when he begins kissing down your stomach, large hands wrapped around your waist and you moan when he runs his tongue upwards, muscles spasming under his touch, chest heaving as you watch him intently, goosebumps spreading against the surface of your skin as he grazes his fangs against the flesh before dipping his tongue inside your navel.

“Yoongi,” you gasp, unsure of what you want to say, you just need to get words out, to express the pent-up pressure inside your body and what rattles your mind. He squeezes you harder in return and you jut your hips towards him, needing some sort of relief, your feet failing to grip the bed as they slide along the sheets.

He growls, moving further down your body until he’s kissing your thighs, head forcing your legs wider. The pressure builds. He’s so close to your core the excitement is too much for you, your skin is hot and sticky, nerves tingling as he continues to lick and nip at your legs. You feel a sharp pain for a millisecond and realise he’s pierced the first layer of flesh, just deep enough for a couple drops of blood to spill out and he lets it settle on the surface before he laps at it. He sighs in great pleasure, like his thirst has been quenched and his tongue glides across the insertion, healing it before your eyes. You’d heard that a vampire’s saliva had healing properties, but to see it with your own eyes in something else and you ogle him in amazement, heart stilling in your chest for a moment. you almost forget your practically naked and desperate on his bed right now. Until he’s speaking again, and you’re very much thrown back in at the deep end.

“You taste delightful,” he praises. “Just like I thought. I can’t wait to have more…but first,” he hums, suddenly thoughtful, hands trailing down to hover over your clothed core. “…I want to taste you in another way.”

Your heart stops jumping around again, fingers gripping the sheets in anticipation. This time he tears your panties, the ripping noise sounding around the room as he tugs the material from you, exposing your soaked centre.

“They were new,” you pout.

“You’ll have to get used to it,” he tells you, unable to tear his eyes away from the one place he wants the most. “I’ll buy you more.”

Your belly fizzes at his admission, wondering to yourself what you’re getting into. If sex with Yoongi is like this every time, you don’t think you’ll be able to handle it. He’s still dressed, the polar opposite to you, who is now naked, the only thing hanging on your body the split bra. The sight turns you on even more. Your slouched now, your head the only thing leaning against the headboard as your back uses the pillows for support.

He’s silent as he makes a move, the pads of his index and middle finger brushing against your folds, parting the sticky flesh. You gasp silently, mouth open as you concentrate on his ministrations, eyes practically rolling back into your head when he begins to run circles against your clit. You’re sensitive, the sensation making you wriggle about; pressure almost too much but not enough… You’re so wet you can hear it, it squelches against his fingertips and he smirks.

“You’ve waited patiently,” he admires, sounding proud of you. “The wait is what always makes a thing better. I praise myself on my patience, but you,” he chuckles darkly, fingers stilling, “—you tested that. You made me fight myself until I couldn’t hold off anymore.”

His words are sending you into a pit of madness, an inferno aflame in the pit of your stomach as you try to get a grip off yourself. You’re tense, unable to wind down and it’s all you can do but to bite down on your lip, breathing loudly from your nose as you watch him descend between your legs. You have just about enough time to brace yourself, to feel his breath against you before his mouth’s attached.

The pleasure is instant when you feel his tongue glide against your folds and his fingers begin to rub circles against your clit once again as he practically makes out with your core. The hints of tongue against your sensitive bundle of nerves has you squirming around the bed, sensory overload. It’s when he trails the muscle down until he reaches your hole, tracing around the flesh until he’s back to your clit again, repeating said action multiple times, you really feel yourself lose it. The graze of his fangs doesn’t help either, just adding to your desperation.

“Yoongi, please,” you beg, and you don’t even know what for.

He knows that too. Chuckling as his tongue is still attached to you, he pulls aways to speak, looking you directly in the eyes which only makes your stomach plummet, toes curling. Without him pleasuring you anymore, you’re back in square one, body burning for him, walls pulsing together in longing just to feel him. It’s frustrating and painful and you hate that he knows he has this much power over your relief.

“Begging and you don’t even now why,” he hums.

“I just want more,” you exasperate. “I want you to give me more.”

He chuckles again, the sound sending the tiny hairs on your body on end as he shuffles for a comfier angle. “What did I say earlier…always so curious…impatient, even…”

Your belly is jumping around like no tomorrow; the way he’s speaking, the way he’s acting…it’s doing things to you. Everything about him is one big tease and you almost want a chance at breaking that… You’re pulled out of your thoughts when he clamps his hands just above your hips, essentially locking you in place—at his mercy.

“First or all,” he silks, “if you want more, you need to stop moving around like I’m electrocuting you. How do you expect to enjoy it when you can’t take it properly? And second of all—” and when he pauses he looks you in the eyes, something flashing around in them—you don’t know what, but it makes your breath catch—before carrying on.

“—remember, you asked for it.”

You gasp loudly as he buries his head between your legs without a warning, tongue taking the place of his fingers. He takes no mercy, making sure your legs are as wide as they can get, feet planted on the bed. You need to hold onto something, but think better of using his hair, so you clamp onto your own thighs, digging your nails into the flesh as you squeeze, moans falling from you like no tomorrow. It’s when he begins sucking on your clit you can’t take it anymore, face buried against you and your walls clench for some other type of relief, but you are unable to move because you’re leaded down by his hands, squeezing your waist tight. You feel helpless and that only turns you on even more; you should feel frustrated, but the desperation only fuels you further. You become greedy, and you don’t care.

“What are you whimpering for?” He husks, pulling away slowly, a trail of his saliva dangling from a fang before it breaks and falls.

You hadn’t even realised you’d been whimpering, but by now you’re shameless, so it’s nothing when you admit to what you really want.

“Fingers,” you tell him. “I really want to feel t-them.”

“Is my tongue not enough?” He teases, smirking.

“But if you use your fingers, you can get me r-ready for your cock.”

You’re unsure what has gotten into you. You never usually talk like this, but it’s Yoongi. You lose yourself around him. You seem to have gotten to him too, because at that exact moment, upon hearing your words, he’s moaning deeply, eyes shut as if he’s trying to control himself. His fangs protrude over his bottom lip, chin coated in your arousal. It shines in the moonlight and he looks beautiful. Your stomach stirs once again. You crave him.

“Are you trying to weaken me?” He asks you, voice quiet. He sounds strained and for a moment you feel gleeful.

“Please,” you nod, hands reaching out to touch his face. “I need you.”

He watches you for a moment, leaning into your hand as if he’s considering your request. You open your mouth to add more but you’re cut off when he’s pouncing at you suddenly, hands leaving your waist as one snakes between your legs, fingers only after one destination. You moan out, the sound turning muffled when his mouth finds yours, tongue ramming inside, fangs clashing against your teeth. It’s messy, but urgent. You can feel how much he wants this and for once, he’s not as controlled as he usually is.

He wastes no time with pushing two fingers inside you, and your vagina takes them greedily, welcoming them inside and hugging them tight as he begins to push them in and out, sloppy noises filling the room because you’re so wet. You take him easily as if you were made for him, as if you were waiting your entire life for him. You can’t help the wanton noises that leave you because you’re so overwhelmed and you’re so happy at this moment in time. You feel full and you never want it to stop.

“Fuck,” he hisses, pulling away to kiss up your neck and inside your ear, coating you in his salvia and your used arousal. You can even taste yourself on your lips and that just turns you on even more. “Fuck, I need you too. Can you feel?” He groans, pressing his clothed erection to your thigh.

You nod madly, moaning loudly. He’s so close to you, your pressed against the bed, a mass of sweat and tangled limbs as one of his legs pins you down, your head rammed against the headboard, hair a mess by now no doubt. But all you feel is pleasure. It courses through your body, burns out your veins.

“I want to feel you, I want to fuck you.”

His confessions are falling from his lips now, he’s a mess and you can feel how desperate he is with every word. Fangs nip at your earlobe and you wince, body jerking as he husks deeply into the shell, “I want to feed from you.”

His fingers fuck up into you faster, powerful actions that have you squeezing around them. He’s no doubt trying to control his urges with a distraction and you’re sure at the rate he’s going to make you come. You can feel the tightening of your stomach, feel the burn between your legs.

“You’re gonna cum,” he notices too, and you can’t get any words out to agree, just inhuman noises falling from your lips.

He greedily laps them up, mouth back on yours again and for a moment you can’t breathe, fighting for air, chest heaving when he begins using his thumb to rub at your clit, grunting against your mouth as fucks into you rapidly. It feels like you’re drowning in the pleasure, overcome, floating but sinking at the same time, limbs trembling, toes curling into the sheets.

“Watch my hand,” he grunts, breaking away from the sloppy kiss to look between your body, temple pressed against your clammy forehead.  “Watch me make you cum.”

The sight is enough to tip you over the edge. His arm between your body, the sleeve of his white shirt folded up to reveal the large veins that lace his creamy skin, traveling all the way down his hand, which is wedged between your legs, two of his fingers buried inside you while his thumb plays with your clit. The sight is too much to take in, especially when your gaze drops to your thighs, seeing them pushed wide opened and red, shaking rapidly with the forced of your impending orgasm.

His deep panting against your face is what finally does it and before you know it, you’re crying out, vision blurring as your head explodes and you’re coming all over his hand, clenching around his fingers, a gushing feeling leaving your body. It obliterates you and you’re left feeling weird, frail—weak, shaky, but deeply satisfied. You’re wetter than you were a moment before, feeling the sheets below you dampen your ass. It takes you a while to realise you may have come a little too hard. That’s never happened to you before, no wonder it feels so different.

Yoongi carefully removes his hand from between your legs, pushing your legs together with sticky fingers in a bid to relieve some of the ache in your joints as he massages them, and he grins, still panting loudly, kissing your cheek.

“You’re full of surprises,” he awes and you feel yourself blush—maybe it’s an immediate reaction to the unknown. However, as soon as he shifts to sit up, instantly undoing his shirt buttons, you forget all that.

And just like that, you want more.

He undresses swiftly before your eyes, revealing his marble like chest before he’s unbuckling his belt, the clanking sound sending fresh shivers of desire rattling up your body. And just like that he’s knelt on the bed, naked before you. Your mouth is watering as you sit up straighter, reaching out to touch him. He stops you, cupping your hands with one of his.

“I want to make you feel good too,” you let out, trying to touch him again but he shakes his head.

“This is your night,” he affirms, smiling when you go to argue. He takes his other hand to cup your face, his thumb gliding over your bottom lip and he pushes, the pad smooshing the flesh slightly. “This is just the first…you can show me how good you are at sucking dick another time. Right now, I want you fully.”

You gulp, affected by his words. You’re literally seconds away from what you’ve been craving for so long and you don’t know how to pace yourself, because you know as soon as he enters you, things will be totally different. You’ll be smitten, not that you aren’t already. You take a deep breath and nod, giving him permission to carry on as you lay your head back against the pillows. He crawls over you and you widen your legs once again, the glowing need for him back again.

He enters you slowly, taking it inch by inch and you tense your body, trying to ease up with the stretch. It feels amazing and you can’t help but grip onto the tops of his arms, anchoring him to you as he fills you completely. You lock eyes and share a smile; however you end up giggling when you accidentally squeeze around him and he groans, eyes closing, face pinched as if it’s almost painful pleasure. When he opens them again he leans down and kisses your mouth, voice strained as he speaks.

“You feel amazing—now I won’t ever want to stop fucking you.”

At his change in attitude, your stomach flips, getting ready to brace yourself for what’s about to come and before you can even think straight, he’s pulling out of you just to drive back in. A torturous pace soon turns monstrous as he snaps his hips against yours. You pin to his back, your nails leaving crescent marks in his perfect skin. His flesh is colder than yours which seems to help you. He acts as some kind of cooler, saving you and helping you keep a clearer mind. It allows you to concentrate on every little bit of euphoria he’s giving you. The carnal sounds of pleasure—moans, deep breaths, the slap of skin in skin—it all fills your ears.

You almost forget that he asked to bite you, only remembering when you feel his fangs graze along the column of your neck as he buries his face in the crook. But then it’s all you think and feel. Your whole body burns with the need for him to puncture you, taste you. You want to make him feel good, like you said, and you know this is the truest way. He’ll feel no pleasure like it, and you want that to happen with everything you have. As if he reads your mind— or maybe it’s the way you keep jutting your neck out, trying to rid the hair that covers the flesh, ride him into temptation—he groans to himself, nosing the supple skin between your neck and shoulder.

“C-can I?” His voice is shaking slightly, his arms that hold himself up tensing visibly and you wonder how much self control he has? It’s sexy that he can hold back so powerfully. Always a gentleman. And with that thought, how can you say no?

“Do it,” you whisper, fighting to turn your head to look at him as he stills all movement inside of you.

He looks comically surprised when he lifts his head to look at you too and you would probably giggle if you weren’t so wound up right now, so nervous, so excited…just a mess of emotions really… He catches your mouth with his passionately, catching you off guard for a moment, but you welcome it, running your fingers through his hair as your tongues clash together.

“It’ll feel good,” he hums, pulling away to trace little kisses down your chin, throat, and finally back to the spot he’s chosen. He kisses once, twice—runs his tongues along the clammy flesh and then kisses a last time.

Your heart thuds against your ribcage. You don’t know what to expect, but you do know you want this to happen. You want it more than anything. You slide your hands back down his back and wait patiently. He’s still inside you but hasn’t moved since you asked him to bite you and you try to concentrate on the pleasure of feeling so full. You and he are connected. It won’t hurt, he’s already told you that and you trust him. You trust him with your life. You wouldn’t be here otherwise.

“Ready?” He asks and you nod, realising he can’t see at the last minute so you let out a croaky yes, throat dry. His hands move to cup your sides, giving them a gentle squeeze, he can feel you trembling so he’s trying to ease your nerves.

He goes slowly. Nothing like you’ve seen in movies or even just imagined. He punctures the skin cleanly and groans as he has the first taste. You hardly feel a thing, akin to pin prick just more intense, and the sucking motion as he lets your blood run down his throat only heightens the pleasure. You can hear it as he swallows and you moan a little, surprising yourself. He moans back pulling away slightly to begin thrusting back into you and that’s when the euphoria becomes out of this world.

He runs his tongue along your flesh, collecting the red liquid that spills out, grunting to himself as he fucks you faster, losing himself almost, and his hands leave your body to clamp ahold of the headboard, muscles in his arms taunt, veins set to burst as he uses the leverage to go harder. You’re moaning now, loudly, spreading your legs wider, needing him as deep as he can go. You feel drunk almost, drowning in serene and you run your fingers over his chest, wanting to never let him go.

When he pulls away from your neck to look at you the sight of your blood running down his chin makes you gasp. You’ve never seen anything so beautiful and you want to kiss him. Oh, you want to kiss him so badly, it aches. His eyes are black, blown out and urgent and you guess he wants to kiss you too because before you know it, he’s on you, tongue pushing its way into your mouth and you taste the familiar metal against the muscle. It only makes you wonder what you taste like to him. By the way he’s affected, it must be good. That makes your heart swell. Especially when he begins gushing.

“You taste out of this world,” he practically moans. “Why have I waited this long to taste you?!” And this time you can’t help but giggle, feeling like you’re floating in the air. He seems mesmerised, maybe even drunk himself.

When he finally breaks free from your mouth—because you won’t let him, of course, his gaze is like fire, face serious—determined, and he begins fucking you with more force, roughly into the bed, hands still clutching the headboard as it rattles behind you. His skin glows in the moonlight and you’re in awe. He’s beautiful. Sculpted like a statue. He’s going so hard you know you’re about to come again. You can feel the familiar stretching in your stomach and you’re moaning louder and crazier, his name falling from your lips like a mantra.

“Again?” He questions, amused. His strength and stamina are more than any human and you’re finding it hard to keep up. It will take some getting used to, that’s for sure.

Before you can even think to nod he’s picking you up, his arms sweeping under your body to flip you on top of him. It’s so fast you’re out of it for a moment before realising you’re straddling him. He’s inside you and he’s sitting up too, holding your hips. You’re glad because by now you’re incredibly tired, body worn out but still chasing that pleasure you never want to burn out.

“I want to make you feel good,” he pants and you realise he’s probably nearing his release too. “So tight and wet and mine, all mine…” he rasps.

He’s fucking you faster this time, not as hard but definitely with more speed, wanting you to come around him. When he bites you the second time you’re taken by surprise, crying out. He’s rougher, snarling as he throws his head back to latch onto your left breast with vigour. Your orgasm hits you instantly, unbelievable to think that a bite could give you such immediate pleasure. It’s startling and powerful and you cry out louder, gripping onto Yoongi’s shoulders as he carries on sucking the red liquid from your flesh. It runs down your chest, you feel it trickling before it dries, and all you hear is the suckling and gulping noises that come from him as he takes you, still fucking you through your orgasm, thrusting his hips into you, bed jolting with the force.

When he fills you with his seed after a few more snaps, you feel invincible. Like nothing on this earth can harm you. You feel full, you feel sated and you could die happy.

You’re a mess when he pulls away and out of you, lying you on the bed as he hovers over your body. You’re tired, worn out, limbs aching and trembling, dried blood staining your body, but he’s healed your wounds. You only have the buzz in your veins to remind you of his marks. Like you’re high on the most wonderful drug. Min Yoongi.

“We should have a shower,” he chuckles. “You’re a mess.”

“I can’t move,” you pout, eyes half closed.

“I’ll carry you,” he quips.

And he does, strong arms wrapping around you to take you into his bathroom. You don’t remember much after that. He runs the shower, cleans you and takes you back to bed. Somewhere along the way he’s removed the soiled sheet and replaced it with a new one. The bed like new and now you’re inside, as warm as can be. Yoongi sat beside you on the edge as he runs his fingers through your damp hair—something he had tried not to get wet, but had failed miserably.

“Was I worth the wait?” He murmurs. You’re struggling to keep your eyes open but you manage to squint at him for a moment, getting him into focus.

“I want more.”

He laughs loudly at that, halting movement to push the sheet over your shoulders and tuck you in. “You’re delirious. I think I took too much blood.” He lays beside you as he speaks, burying his head in your neck. “But I couldn’t help it—you’re just too goddamn tasty,” he jokes, his voice contorting to that of a man speaking to his pet. It’s weird, doesn’t suit him, yet does at the same time. You giggle and embrace him.

“I’m not a steak.”

“Hm. That’s true. But you’re mine.”

You smile passively, too tired to give him more of a response, although your heart does feel warmer at his words. You don’t understand it, you’re just a human, so this possessive vampire talk goes over your head, but maybe deep down you should question the way his words make you feel… Not tonight though, you’re exhausted, and his bed is just too comfy to try to fight the sleep that wants you…

“I won’t be here when you wake up.”

You’re aware Yoongi’s speaking again but it’s wavering in and out of volume as you sink closer into slumber. You hum in reply. You get it, it will be daylight and he’ll be asleep himself.

“Will you stay here tomorrow, so we can spend the night together again? I’ll only be in the basement. There’s things to eat in the kitchen if you’re hungry…unless you have plans?” He adds, sounding unsure of himself, as if he’s just realised he’s babbling too much.

You reach blindly for his face, trying to find his cheek to cup with your eyes closed and when you do, you tap it reassuringly, clumsily… “I’ll stay.”

“You will?”

And you nod, literally seconds away from falling asleep. He gets that, finally, and wraps his arm around your shoulders, hugging you to him as he kisses your hair and you inhale, taking comfort in his scent; he smells like the lemon shower gel he’d used in the shower. You’ve never felt so relaxed, despite your tired and aching limbs.

He hums against your hair, squeezing you gently.

“Goodnight, sweet dreams.”

[watcr]

Rules 🟡 About 🟡 Bio & Misc

DISCLAIMER: This is not intended by any means to be an entirely serious rp blog. This is originally based based in Grand Theft Auto 5. And was created in a custom Grand Theft Auto Online server by Markiplier and thusly portrayed by him whilst he played. If anything this is a Crack!Role Play blog that looks well put together Face claim and all but I'm really just here for rediculous interactions and wild hijinks with a clueless dad delivery man. That being said: any backstory and the creation/ videos/ acting itself belongs to Markiplier. I'm simply just writing a character that I enjoy and makes me laugh.

Please Note: This blog will still contain highly suggestive content and situations with a comedic take on them. This includes being robbed, murder, drug use, hostage situations and then some. I mean-- Stan was made in Grand Theft Auto.

RULES/ General Info:

This is a side blog to my main: mxrkedfordeath

Para/ Novella writing length

Primarily dash/mobile profile

18+ no ifs ands or special cases

Again: this is a Satirical/Crack/Meme role play blog. Expect rediculous things to be said and done

NSFW present/ Friendly

Non-Selective; as mentioned above I created this blog for fun. If any of this meme I have created interests you please feel free to send me a DM or ask and let's see what wild hijinks we can get Stan into huh?

Although the voice is provided by an internet personality that is where this ends. I am still uncomfortable with interacting with blogs that portray real life people or influencers/ internet celebrities. I'm not going to have Stan rob someone with a celebrity that is real. It's...its uncomfortable.

Considering my reason I made this blog and the nature of it, random starters or asks are welcome! If it's a weird situation, place or even different universe I will make That Water Boi lore friendly.

That being said however: please do not include oneself in a thread that you are not involved in.

Absolutely no personal blogs

OC friendly

Crossover/AU friendly

No Godmodding

No hate/ harrassment

Multimuse and Sideblog friendly

Unless featured or seen in the Stan The Water Man videos by Markiplier there will be no preestablished anything. Unless it is Kiki, or Jimmy Stan does not know you and this naive man child will greet you very horribly as he always does.

Shipping: I do allow it but dont think its going to be very serious either. When he sees you ladies? Its literally hitting the jackpot if you get more than a few words that are even close to coherent. So yes. If you wanna simp or thirst over stan that's cool just know that his skull is thicker than a military bunker wall.

•Memes, asks, and shitposting alike is pretty much this whole blog. Stan is a sweetie but hes not close to being the uh... brightest bulb in the box.

About:

Stan or Stanley Wheeler is a 39 year old delivery man and a family man. He strives to please those around him with wonderful water and his company.

Still a delivery man with his new life after a difficult divorce and loss of custody of his "Sweet baby boy Roy" he focuses on bettering his life as a means to be reunited with his son.

He is always well hydrated and firmly believes in comfort and efficiency instead of style.

(About if you stumbled into this shit show):

This is a role play blog for an original character created by Markiplier in a custom Role Playing server for Grand Theft Auto V. It's quite literally a chaotic whirlwind where the main protagonist is a 39 year old divorcee whose love for water is concerning... but not so much as the mans gullible nature and far to generous personality.

This is really only a summation because there are literal HOURS of videos of Markiplier playing Grand Theft Auto and being the voice of Stan Wheeler during his adventures in Los Santos. It features amazing improv and the ever expected rediculous chaos that ensues in Grand Theft Auto.

Bio:

Name: Stanley Wheeler

Gender/Gender Identity: Male

Age: 39

Face Claim: Chris Evans

Voice Claim: Marikplier/ Mark Fischbach

Romantic/ Sexual Preferences: Questioning/ Unsure

Nick names: Fanny pack, Water boy, Sunflower

Personality: Generous, Optimistic, Friendly, Oblivious, Awkward, Curious, Helpful, Trusting

Occupation: Courier, Delivery Man/Boy, Water Delivery Man

Favorite Color(s): Blue & Yellow

Likes: Water, Fanny Packs, Sunflowers, Biking, Work, His Son

Dislikes: Coffee & Soda, Lying, Fighting, Talking to women (watch the episodes to know)

Hobbies: Biking, Boating, Spending time with his son, Meeting new people

Quirks/ Other Traits: Has a strong....Love for water, Suffers from a yet to be diagnosed but constant seizing of bodily muscles that occasionally cause harm, A REAL Virgin 'Dad', Amazing at lockpicking, Terrible Driver

Final Note/ Disclaimer: Again, although this blog is for fun from a truly chaotic and hilarious improvised playthrough of a unique online role playing server for Grand Theft Auto V, please REMEMBER what game Markiplier created and voiced Stan in. Just because Stan is clueless doesnt mean the subject matter is. A lot of dark humor and shady if not bad situations arise in Mark's videos and I really do want people to know that although this is all in good fun the dark unfiltered comedy of Grand Theft Auto is still going to be followed in this portrayal. That means Stanely would very well (and has) ended up robbing people, kidnapping, Killing people or being an accomplice, Jokes based upon sexuality, Gender and then some. Of course before writing I will ALWAYS discuss subject matter that you would like to avoid but unless stated the aforementioned or to those whom have watched the adventures of Stanley know just how inappropriate and harsh/blunt/in your face comedy that is present.

Not only one final disclaimer as to how nsfw Stanley's life and choices end up being-- but giving credit is where it is due; Markiplier. He literally Created Stanley Wheeler and his uh... well him. And brought Stan to life via voice and gameplay. Stan never is and never was mine he's just a character.

Mun absolutely DOES NOT ≠ Muse

Stanley Wheeler-- is an idiot that makes horrible decisions and let's horrible things happen around him. I do not reflect any of the jokes or encounters featured in the gameplay series. I just so happen to enjoy comedy (albeit quite a bit can be not PC) and a good story. Literally this blog came out of a joke my best friend made at 4 am after binging Stan The Water man saying I should make a role play blog for Stanley Wheeler. And so? I did.

Important Note: Activity and response time

Updated: 04/10/2020

I made this blog for myself for fun and the same goes for the people I meet/ interact with. It will be sporadic at best. If I feel like it expect meme or shitpost worthy spamming of the Water Delivery Dad we got but never deserved.

Neither my main nor is Stan a job. Quite bluntly most times when I go inactive I'm literally just doing something else. Anything else.

That ties in to the fact that although I am non selective I am still allowed to say no. And expect reciprocated respect if I say no for ANY reason. I dont owe anyone anything and just like everyone else here this is for fun and enjoyment purposes. This is not our job, and we have nothing forcing us to do this.

But - I am fine with a poke at me and my noggin' every once in a while. I do a lot of things and I cant even remember where I put my vape or phone after 5 minutes. That means I forget. And I do. A LOT. And I can admit that.

MUN & MUSE RULE ZERO: Absolutely no Drama, Vaguing, Callouts, Harassment, Hate or insults/ criticizing on how you THINK the muse I write SHOULD BE.

I'm chill. And I legit hate social confrontation to the point I cry in front of people face to face if it is too much, too hurtful, too angering.

I don't care if someone said something shady our of character that one time or that you think an individual deserves to be directly blasted in front of numerous people.

I dont care if you think that just because I wrote a characters sexual or gender identity outside of what you like.

I dont care how many times you ask or dm me to respond or plot when I had already respectfully declined.

Of course hate and harassment is something I do care for-- because its quite literally just pure toxicity. If you do this you will be ignored and blocked or even reported depending upon when transpired.

All I ask is to be treated kindly in return as I treat everyone until I am given reason not to. That's it. Literally. I am 22 years old and have no patience for any of the aforementioned.

Quite frankly to me it's childish and quite often comedic or petty in my eyes to even have callouts and vauging exist.

I am only addressing this because of the years and various muses canon and original alike I have been harassed for interactions, sent honestly some pretty vile anons, and plenty of messages telling me "X is actually supposed to be gay." Or "no actually they dont like X", I've been called out for literally some of the most childish reasons and my being honest and blunt upset people-- or the word 'No' was not existent in their vocabulary.

And finally-- if for any reason in the RPC someone I am Mutuals/ Mains/ Friends with or just an acquaintance I like talking lore with is involved in any drama I do not want to hear it nor do I care if it does not directly involve me. In fact even then I dont want to unless said person comes to me privately and talks like an adult should rather than throwing a tantrum behind your laptop because someone said an awful word, or beliefs were disliked-- literally any reason or post of a callout. I'm not here for it.

If there is EVER a problem dont be afraid to message me PRIVATELY and talk it out like two mature adults. If I did something to upset you? Let me know I want this blog ESPECIALLY to be for the sake of laughs. Has it been a good month since my last reply? Just send me a lil' hey or just check in. Have I not replied? Its probably just me as the Mun having an awful attention span for anything that isn't hands on.

The Mun:

Look I know the novel above for one singular subject is actually very unfortunately neccessary for me.

My career and as a person have me not only practically programmed but I am openly blunt/ "real" with people.

I am not going to say something you want to hear. You might not like my saying no to a thread but my goal is to be honest and respectful to everyone.

And not only that I'm tired of not covering my ass and trying to pretend this doesn't happen to me behind the scenes or on blast for all to see.

If I plan on sending a private message apologizing for an upsetting subject I wrote of or simply discussing conflicts/ issues privately I hope to god that you who are reading this has the same common courtesy.

Regardless if my blunt sometimes told "Too much" honesty is why I disclose my absolute refusal to negative interactions I really am chill - and occasionally way too excitable or talkative.

I really do love meeting plenty of new people and writers alike in the role playing community as a whole and very much enjoy trying new plots/ ideas out unless it is unreasonable to the plot.

If you wanna just be meme traders for a fellow beloved Fandom or RPC? Ok. I'll try to find some just as good to make the meme trade a fair one.

You wanna make a thread all about how gullible a muse is? Sure!

Maybe even send a thirsty or shitpost worthy ask? 100%

Or do you just have a question about the Muse/Mun/ Or Writing? Go ahead!

I love and live for the angst and self authored stories to Headcanons or missed plot points on muses. The ways so many different types of relationships between characters form and change. But I would also smash the yes button if someone asked me how I felt if someone swung into the ask Simping on lovely Water Boy? Go for it because again; fun. Let's cackle over his style choices or his horribly abused kindess/ trust.

I'm a human guys let's not worry about anything else but the fact we're all here for the same thing: and that's fun and enjoyment as well as having an ability to flex our creative side. It doesnt matter how fantastic or bad (This mun right here) is at edits manips or coding for the theme. We all learn and grow and I just wanna have a good time and I'm sure every normal person that's not a psychopath wants to have a happy healthy safe and fun environment for roleplay/writing.

Thank you for reading this if you did. Any questions? Want Stan to be your water bottle toting and Fanny Pack Efficiency having man get stuck in a plot with your muse? Feel free to hmu send in an ask or meme etc.

I dont bite unless someone bites me with their attitude. I look forward to meeting/interacting/and memeing with everyone.

[tongpoo]

Ten Favorite Albums of 2017

10. Choker - Peak

Thank God I read Pigeons & Planes. I wouldn't have heard about Choker yet if it wasn't for them, but I would have in the next few years when he blows up. As of right now Choker just breached 2,000 followers on Twitter and my friend Pat gets more plays on SoundCloud than he does. I don't know much more about him, on Twitter his name is just "chris" and his Instagram is still MIA. But, in a way this kind of makes his music speak louder. I've gotten so used to hearing a dope track and immediately hunting down the artist's social medias in an effort to learn more about them and find what place this sound is coming from. In Choker's case, there isn't a ton of that. He hasn't actually tweeted since this album dropped, and everything before is just weird memes and 140 character jokes the internet age is so accustomed to. Choker is an artist who leaves everything they need to say in their art rather than effortlessly giving it to the world via iPhone thumb taps. Because of this, Peak benefits from having not much else to place it within context of and shines as a stand alone.

Rather than attacking the classic and conventional ideology of songwriting, Choker's Peak is full of "Is this the hook? Wait it's a verse. But when does the hook come back in?"  type moments. It relies more on nature and what feels right, rather than structure and repetition. This isn't a bad thing at all, and is pretty hard to accomplish without sounding messy. Names like Frank Ocean, Sufjan Stevens, Björk all take similar approaches to their sound, and you're definitely in good company if mentioned in the same thought as them. Choker's lyricism isn't always literal and mostly seems is used to paint a mood. Lines like "I see in Portra 400 // Mazzy Star pour out the function" giving both a visual and auditory representation of where he at. El Dorado, is an entire song about getting caught stealing a car and all the romantic memories shared within that car. Choker takes this simple plot and expands it into a four minute masterpiece of shimmering guitars, subtle 808s, and layers of vocals. His quick steps from singing to rapping are hard to keep tabs on, with this song having a four bar rap verse before switching back to singing. Hats aren't even introduced until the last 30 seconds. It's just this constant picking up and dropping Choker performs so easily that leaves you hungry for more of what was and anticipating what's to come.

Produced and written entirely by Choker, the instrumentals and vocals are gold. On Sunflower, Choker introduces with a shoegaze-esque minimal track, cuts that with distortion and a vocal sample and drops it into this portion of the song that feels very Weeknd-y, with harmonization, hi hats, and synths you'd find on the boss level of a PS2 game. After 30 seconds of that, he begins yelling trap adlibs across this pretty beat that consists of only a rhodes and lo-fi percussion. There's just no telling what could happen next, but it all fits so perfectly together. The entire album is like your life flashing before your eyes, or thinking back on good memories.

Favorite Tracks: Moksha, El Dorado, Sunflower

9. Sampha - Process

It's a slim amount of vocalists who pack as much emotion into their voice as Sampha Sisay. Even without the context and knowledge of Sampha's struggles, you'd still connect with the fear and pain behind his lyrics. But on Process, Sampha opens up more about the caretaking and loss of his mother to cancer, becoming distant with his brother, and discovering a painful and suspicious lump in his throat.

What's that meme where it's like a picture of two things and the caption is "Name a more iconic duo"? Anyway, the only acceptable version of that meme is Sampha and his keyboard. Many moments throughout this album are simply just Sampha and a piano or synth, and it never feels lacking. But with the same amount of ease he runs through a minimal track; he can embrace maximalist production as well. Process sort of carries an all or nothing mentality, with tracks that are bare bones and others oozing boundless energy. I was lucky enough to catch Sampha at Lollapalooza (my favorite performance of the weekend, by the way), and in one moment he was jumping around like a trap artist to Blood On Me then performing tear-worthy vocals to (No One Knows Me) Like The Piano. The fashion of Process is very best of both worlds, and Sampha has this down to a tee. All of this topped with A+ songwriting and  production, there aren't many reasons to be anti-Process.

Within a brief 40 minutes, Sampha doesn’t waste a second trekking through his journey. Kind of random, but Sampha is one of two people to have worked with Kanye West, Drake, and Frank Ocean. The only other person is Jay Z. I feel like that just warrants some sort of legendary artistry validity, if Process itself hadn't already.

If you enjoy this album you should really read his FADER cover story. One of my favorite ever and includes an acoustic version of Plastic 100°C.

Favorite Tracks: Kora Sings, (No One Knows Me) Like the Piano, What Shouldn’t I Be?

8. Cosmo Pyke - Just Cosmo

Yeah, the album is only five tracks and there's nothing super groundbreaking or innovative, but for some reason I just love it. It's not even like a rare sound that's explored or something experimental or whatever. It's just a bunch of super fun and catchy tunes and sometimes that's all you really want from music. I haven't deep dived into the lyrics for an intricate emotional and metaphoric tale, and I really doubt there's much like that in here. Sometimes all you want from music is for it to sonically feel right and Just Cosmo does all of that for me.

Cosmo's sound radiates a youthful aura very specific to London. He taste tests a handful of genres throughout the album, matching his guitar to that loose jangly sound very popular in today's indie rock, with drums and percussion that lean towards jazz that's dipping its toes into samba. He vibes to reggae on the bridge of Chronic Sunshine, and builds and drops speeds on Wish You Were Gone. All the tracks on Just Cosmo nearly touch or exceed the five minute mark, letting Cosmo fully exercise all thoughts he has upon a song without letting the listener become overwhelmed. The closer, Great Dane, even clocks up to 8 minutes without feeling like too much to bear. Stress and other grim thoughts are the last thing on your mind while listening to Just Cosmo, because it's the soundtrack to a Sunday bike ride to get ice cream with your friends. It's the album you put on during the 2PM pool party. It's music you couldn't possibly be upset to.

There's not a ton to be said about an album that is very inexplicably awesome to me. The album doesn't do the undoable or break through walls or anything, but the sound it does have is very genuine and true. It sounds just like an album a 2017 kid from Peckham would make who has an interest in synths, guitars, and great music.

Favorite Tracks: Wish You Were Gone, Chronic Sunshine, Great Dane

7. Thundercat - Drunk

Thundercat doesn't play the bass, the bass plays Thundercat. The licks are so stank face worthy, and every riff turns you into a bobblehead. On every song you're faced with infectious basslines accompanied with melodic falsettos all courtesy of one man. The man behind Thundercat, real name Stephen Bruner, appears as a writer and producer on all tracks with help from just a few select others. He's one of those guys that you've heard, but didn't know you were listening to. Bruner's worked with contemporary greats such as Flying Lotus, Childish Gambino, Mac Miller, N*E*R*D, and most notably had a massive hand in Kendrick Lamar's To Pimp A Butterfly, supplying background vocals and tasteful E-bass front to back of that project. Being such a monumental figure in one of the decade's greatest albums, it makes total sense that his first album back since that hot run is spectacular as it is.

Bruner's depressive realistic, yet humorous, outlook on things is expressed all across Drunk. I remember reading or seeing in an interview that he titled the album "Drunk" because its often how he feels going about life. Being confused by existence and his nihilistic treatment of things. A lot of the tracks on the album are about very humdrum experiences in the day to day. One of Bruner's more fleshed out songs on Drunk is A Fan's Mail (Tron Song II) which is just all about how cool he thinks it would be to become a cat. Another, Tokyo, describing the many activities he takes part of while spending time in Japan's capital city. With all these songs about mundane pasttimes and average thoughts, the album lyrically feels like a very transparent look into Bruner's mind. While all of this is taking place, behind it all is some of the year's greatest production. With Bruner ripping enchanting bass riffs and fills throughout the entirety of the project, it sounds like he's exorcising the thing of demons at points. Drunk is appropriately sprinkled with funky synths and keys, with even Michael McDonald playing keys on Show You The Way, a track he also sings on with Kenny Loggins. Other producers involved are legendary EDM producer and DJ Flying Lotus appearing on more than half the tracks and Sounwave of TDE fame.

I actually almost made my senior quote ""I Am Crazy" -Thundercat" after the track on this album, where in the 25 second song he begins feeling nostalgic, then questions his memory thinking maybe things weren't as great as they appear to be in his faded mind. Myself, and I'm guessing most other people, often feel this way about a lot of things. It's a reminder that if you're feeling down in the now, wishing you were back in the good old days is pretty useless because not only is that impossible, chances are things were just as crummy as they were back then as well. It's a sentiment that helps being positive today which I just think is a valuable thought to keep in your head.

Favorite Tracks: Bus In These Streets, A Fan’s Mail (Tron Song II), The Turn Down

6. Rostam - Half-Light

After announcing his departure from Vampire Weekend, Rostam Batmanglij wasted no time on getting back to work. After a few collaborations with modern-day heavyweights Frank Ocean, Solange, and Haim, the multi-instrumentalist released his debut album Half-Light. Slim of features and help on production, this is a body of songs Rostam can rightfully call his own.

Sonically, the album rings all whistles and dings all bells. Hopping from a very acoustic I Will See You Again, to a very left-field Hold You, which is doused in hip-hop percussion and vocal effects that meet each other somewhere between James Blake and Pollari. I'd be interested in hearing a full-blown rap production from Rostam, as at some points throughout the album the thought is definitely teased but is never actually blossomed. From all aspects as a songwriter, Rostam's sound is hard to translate into words. It's certainly a separation from his work with Vampire Weekend, but not too distant of a cousin to render it completely unfamiliar. On Rudy, he emulates third-wave ska, then throws in this beautiful crash of horns for the breakdown. At first, the way each song is formatted seems so aimless and free flowing, but after repeated listens this is clearly an intentional and precisely made decision by Rostam. His voice,absent from Vampire Weekend songs, sounds built just for his production. As a songwriter, he does not lack at all, with songs like Bike Dream and When that could be read as poems.

Although initially saddened by Vampire Weekend losing such an integral member, I am ecstatic about this album. Time and time again Rostam has proved himself and I'm glad this album serves as a landmark of his accomplishments. One of my favorite albums of the year, with the title track especially being one of my favorite songs of the year.

Favorite Tracks: Half-Light, Rudy, Warning Intruders

5. Tyler, The Creator - Flower Boy

Tyler, The Creator changed my life. I would be lying if I said the way I lead my life is not somewhat thanks to this man whom I’ve never actually met. I spent most of the end of middle school and beginning of high school citing this guy as my religion and treating his albums as divine and sacred objects. Obviously, I'm still a massive fan and while my level of stan-dom is not quite at the level of "maniacal fan girl", I was still ridiculously excited for this album. Having spent days sunrise to sundown with Bastard, Goblin, Wolf, and Cherry Bomb in rotation, it's pretty clear that this is the album Tyler had always wanted to make. Even in 2009 there were neo soul 7th and 9th chords snuck into his raps about violent crimes. This guy always wanted to make a full blown jazz or pop album but really just lacked the technical ability and resources to do so. Finally, on Flower Boy, the creator finally fulfills the prophecy.

I don't think anyone has been able to pair booming and explosive percussion with breezy and swaying guitars as sophisticated as Tyler can. The drums hitting in Where This Flower Blooms after 45 seconds of strings, piano, and Frank Ocean's oh so sexy voice, is one of the hardest moments of the year. This contrast shows up a lot throughout the album. See You Again is led by these angelic harmonies by shared between Tyler and frequent collaborator Kali Uchis, and then you're just dropped off into this fiery abyss of 808s and laser gun-esque synths. One of my favorite tracks on the album is Boredom, which is 5 minutes of chilling by the pool relaxation. Immediately after that song you're slammed by production that is just so unnecessarily hype on I Ain't Got Time. This juxtaposition is so hard to perfect but so damn sweet once done correctly.

There's nothing wrong with Tyler's leathery voice smeared on top of his phat beats, but majority of my appreciation for him and this album specifically is for his production. Which is why I've always been a huge fan and never minded when Tyler enlisted features all over the place. The only place the names Rex Orange County, Jaden Smith, and Roy Ayers make sense together is when you're talking about a Tyler The Creator tracklist. He makes sure everyone brings their A game as well, as I've never really heard a phoned in verse or performance from anyone on a Tyler song. On Flower Boy, the places where Tyler does rap or sing, it never feels like its just to make the song longer as it did occasionally on previous works. Bar by bar Tyler is saying something with meaning which I think is something he's improved on a lot since Wolf and Cherry Bomb especially. All songs on Flower Boy fit a theme or concept and together those songs as an album are even better.

If I wasn't wearing such rose tinted goggles while looking back at them, I'd probably say this is Tyler, The Creator's best album. Even with them on its a pretty close race. This album is just so good and so Tyler with the dumb evilness of Who Dat Boy to the glossy and shiny groove of 911. Flower Boy is a soundtrack to make memories to and even with the inexcusable amount of times I've heard this guy's barking deep voice I don't think I'll ever want to hit skip on a track of his.

Favorite Tracks: Pothole, Boredom, 911 / Mr. Lonely

4. Jay-Z - 4:44

It's hard not to crack a smile when Jay-Z raps about his money. Sure you hear Young Thug or 21 Savage rap about dropping bands at the club, but with Shawn Carter's net worth nearing the ten figure mark, there aren't really any other rappers who are on his level. 4:44 is bedazzled with all sorts of ridiculous flexes. Verse two of The Story of O.J. specifically emphasizes this with him spitting "Fuck livin' rich and dyin' broke // I bought some artwork for one million // Two years later, that shit worth two million // Few years later, that shit worth eight million // I can't wait to give this shit to my children". Stunting about investing is next level, and it's hard to take any other rapper seriously regarding money knowing Jay Z could buy their life without hesitation.

I think that's where a lot of the beauty lies in 4:44. Jay-Z approaches all subjects on this album with such intimacy and speaks in a manner no one else really can. He relays nostalgia from growing up in the Marcy houses so effortlessly, and touches on struggling with infidelity on the truly moving title track. If haven't seen his Saturday Night Live performance of this track, it's clear this song holds so much weight to him.

The production on 4:44 is seriously masterful. No I.D. absolutely snaps, track after track. As an aspiring producer I seriously reference this album as my bible occasionally. The sample flip of Stevie Wonder on Smile is downright insane, accompanied with one of Jay-Z's best verses ever on the final marathon of lyrics chalks up the song as a highlight of the album. No I.D.'s work on Bam is worthy of note too, taking Sister Nancy's Bam Bam (which you've probably heard flipped in Kanye West's Famous or Lauryn Hill's Lost Ones) and transforms it into this reggaeton banger. And I can't make a write up for this album without showing praise to Marcy Me, which I regard as just a really perfect rap song. It just embodies everything I love about rap music; Jay Z's infectious flows, heartfelt delivery, clever wordplay, and a beat I could loop endlessly. Assistance from The-Dream on the outro of this track just makes this song transcend. This song, and overall 4:44, are the music I look forward to listening to throughout my life.

Favorite Tracks: Smile, Bam, Marcy Me

3. King Krule - The OOZ

Easily whisking from elements of punk, to jazz, then hip-hop, King Krule's distinct cockney accent paired with his loose guitar tones becomes hard to pin to a genre. The OOZ is a very specific collection of sounds that could not possibly belong to another. With poetics stemming from a nimble and fragile place on songs like Slush Puppy or Czech One, to delivery so rude and brash on songs like Half Man Half Shark and Emergency Blimp, King Krule displays all recesses of emotion on his third studio album.

You'll rage and then you'll cry to some of the most beautiful noises you've ever heard with this album. Although King Krule's slurred delivery is occasionally hard to make up, the feeling is easily translated from the wide array of instrumentation used on The OOZ. King Krule has no issue with incorporating sounds not typically associated with each other. On the lead single Dum Surfer, a saxophone and electric guitar share a solo. There are disorienting and whirring synths appearing throughout the entirety of the project, all along other worldly instruments such as vibraphones, marimbas, and bongos.

The album lyrically is cryptic and disassociative. In Lonely Blue the verses act as chapters of a failed relationship and the agony both characters are met with. The language King Krule uses to detail this narrative is often tough to decipher yet so fitting, which sparks imagery I've really only ever felt with a slim number of great artists. On A Slide In (New Drugs), the protagonist is sickly self-described as someone with bleached skin and bleeding gums. The pictures painted with these words are usually bleak, cold, and occasionally dystopian.

Clocking in at an hour and six minutes, every single song hits for me and nothing feels like filler. The closer is gorgeous and the album couldn't complete in a more perfect way. Being so cohesive its hard not to let the rest of the project ring out once you start playing a song that's mid tracklist. It's just one of those albums you'd have a hard time disputing someone who thinks is a perfect album because of its pure artistic ambition and execution. The OOZ is one of my favorite projects of the year, and hasn't left my rotation since the day it came out.

Favorite Tracks: Slush Puppy, Emergency Blimp, Vidual

2. IGLOOGHOST - Neō Wax Bloom

If Pale Eyes is like the boarding and lift of a roller coaster, then the rest of the 38 minutes in the album is a non-stop, accelerating, descension. I don't even want to begin to think about how this album was made, it's filled to the brim with eclectic but meticulously chosen sounds. Neō Wax Bloom is like straight auditory adrenaline, with each track being a different flavor of a rush.

This album is fucking nuts. I already had a lot to say about it in my New Music Monday review of it, but at the time I certainly could not have digested how spectacular Neō Wax Bloom is. It's seriously a portal into another realm or dimension, I've truly never heard anything like this album before. When I heard the saxophone layered on top of the gigantically paced Super Ink Burst for the first time, I knew this was one of the best albums of the year. And I was only a few minutes into the album. The album doesn't doesn't decrease in quality at all from the already majestic opening and I think White Gum is the most impressive technical achievement in sound of 2017. That song makes me feel like I just mainlined the cocaine from Kate Moss's personal stash and I'm ready to ride an elephant into warfare. The programming involved in IGLOOGHOST's debut album is literally insane, because I actually don't think you could be mentally right in the head to accomplish what is done here. There are essentially no loops throughout the entire album with a new layer or interval being inaugurated every bar.

I referenced it in my review, but no one describes the album better than its producer himself. "MY FIRST ALBUM ‘NEŌ WAX BLOOM’ IS OUT NOW! A MULTICOLOR HYPERSPEED OPERA ABOUT LITTLE GLOWING BEINGS MADE OF GUM." the self-proclaimed "11YR OL MALE BOY" announces via Twitter. Neō Wax Bloom is one of the few times I've experienced an artist build a world with their music, with the album being its soundtrack. I really, really, really recommend you listen to this album because the first listen is the closest you can get to seeing a new color or leaving this universe.

Favorite Tracks: Super Ink Burst, White Gum, Infinite Mint

1. BROCKHAMPTON - SATURATION Trilogy

When I look back at 2017, it'll be hard to not be reminded of BROCKHAMPTON. In March, I saw Kevin Abstract live on his solo tour for American Boyfriend the same day he dropped the Runner short film. In May they took over the internet by dropping a single every week for five weeks building anticipation for their debut album SATURATION. In June it dropped, with worldwide acclaim leaving everyone wondering who gave these boys are. In July I binge watched all the episodes of American Boyband which documented Kevin's tour. In August they ruled again with five more singles and another album. In September I saw them live in one of the best concerts I've ever been to (catch me in the green hoodie at about 2:42). In December they ended their wild streak by dropping the closer to the SATURATION era, SATURATION III.

I know it's kinda cheating including all three as one, but I didn't really feel like writing a Top 10 with 30% of the albums being by BROCKHAMPTON. I've never done it, but if listened to back to back to back I think the trilogy would equate greater than the sum of its parts. It's held together thematically by the SKITs, SCENEs, and CINEMAs, and while all members of the group grow and progress, they still hold onto that SATURATION sound they came out with in June. Most of that SATURATION sound is thanks to the group's producers, Romil Hemnani and Q3 (Jabari Manwa & Kiko Merley), with Romil handling production on almost every single song. Listening to SATURATION I then SATURATION III, it's so obvious there's a gap between the two, but it's still so obviously BROCKHAMPTON it's incredible one could grow so much yet manage to not stray at all. This development isn't limited to the producers, but with the vocalists, specifically Matt Champion, JOBA, and Merlyn Wood stepping it up as well.

"I got pipe dreams of crack rocks and stripper poles." would be a hell of an opening line for a book that won the Coretta Scott King award. But it's the first thing heard on this trilogy, spat by Ameer's grizzly voice over Romil's intimidating basslines. The run of tracks after that is ridiculous. STAR, featuring production only from Jabari Manwa, is just stupid phat. Over those thick, booming grooves, Dom, Ameer, and Kevin all spit 16s about celebrities. The weird combo of such a hard beat paired with lines so goofy yet delivered seriously is just epic. Even though SATURATION II is my least favorite of the three, it'd still be one of my favorite albums of the year if just released by itself. The opening verse from Kevin on GUMMY kinda sets the table for the entire album. Matt's hyperspeed flow on JELLO is so unreal I actually thought they just sped it up until I experienced it live. You could throw SWEET on loop forever and never get sick of it. After all this I didn't know if BROCKHAMPTON had it in them again for a third record, but they really came through the hardest with the SATURATION finale. Romil's production demolished all expectations I had for SATURATION III, with beats sounding like they should have came from a hip-hop veteran, rather than a 22-year-old. JOHNNY, BLEACH, SISTER, RENTAL, are really perfect and are some of the best tracks the boyband has ever put out.

A lot of personal appeal to BROCKHAMPTON for me is that list of reasons you can't accomplish what BROCKHAMPTON is doing is short. I own pretty much the same camera all their videos are shot on, and I've stumbled upon random drumkits online that have sounds Romil has used. This DIY approach to music is so inspiring and having their product result in all sorts of praise is something really cool. I've met all the members of the boyband and they're just weird awkward kids who got to tour the nation cuz of their art. These are guys I could have went to High School with and I wouldn't have been surprised. But what is surprising is the music, films, clothing, and whatever else these guys decide to get into next. I'd get BROCKHAMPTON health insurance if it was offered. Time after time this collective has brought it, and I don't doubt that next year I'll be talking just as high about TEAM EFFORT as I do about SATURATION.

Favorite Tracks: STAR, JUNKY, BLEACH