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utterlyunawarewriter · 3 months ago

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THE ONE THAT GOT AWAY~

Inspired by the Katy Perry song (if you couldn't tell -_-). Feedback appreciated :D

1. Summer after high-school when we first met

You woke up with an ache in your head and the sharp smell of antiseptic. Sunlight from an open window hit your eyes, causing you to shield them with your hand. Memories of your mom's car driving at a neck breaking speed, weird birds with golden beaks and the revelation of your fellow classmate being a half goat hit you as you sat up in bed.

Someone grabbed your arm, and you recoiled form the contact.

A voice coming from somewhere on your left said, "Hey, I'm not gonna hurt you."

You turned to face the voice. "That's something someone who's gonna hurt me would say."

You looked over, only to see a boy with bright blue eyes, wearing scrubs. He looked way too young to be in them.

"Welcome to Camp Half-Blood, a place for demigods. You-"

"Sorry to interrupt, but i know. Mum gave me the basics before I came here."

You got up, slowly blinking at your surroundings. You were in an infirmary filled with empty beds, except for one, occupied with a scowling girl. Another guy, who looked similar to the one next to you, seemed to be scolding her about something.

You stretch your arms above your head and let out a sigh. After being given a small rundown of how things worked, you left the infirmary and stepped out into the blazing sun. Around you camp bustled with life.

Kids of all ages--from young middle schoolers to people who looked like they belonged in college--rushed from one place to the other. Some stood in small groups, talking and laughing loudly. Golden weapons glinted in the sunlight from where they were kept. As you explore the camp, you saw fellow demigods practicing archery, engaging in sword fights and even participating in hand-to-hand combat.

Amidst the lively crowd, a figure stood out--a young man with striking features that seemed to effortlessly draw the gaze of onlookers. A sense of charm and grace seemed to surround him as he made his way through the crowd. With each step, his presence seemed to command attention, turning heads and causing whispers to emerge.

You saw quite a few people stop whatever they were doing when they saw him coming. Some girls let out high giggles. You watched the people part around him....till you realised he was walking toward you.

You quickly tried to hide the fact that you were staring, but unluckily, he noticed. A blush rose up your throat as you desperately tried to play it cool.

"Hey, I'm Luke", he said extending a hand toward you.

"(Name)."

***

2. We made out in your mustang to Radiohead

"Luke"

Kiss

"Luke-"

"I love you, but please shut up (name)."

You laughed as his lips met yours again.

Both of you had sneaked into one of the camp vans after lunch. Both of you had blown off camp duties. Luke had bribed Chris to teach a few sword fighting lessons, and you practically begged Michael to take your shift at the infirmary.

And now, after a week of not seeing Luke, you finally had your boyfriend all to yourself.

It still felt weird, calling him that. You had been a couple for only two months-despite the fact that you had been friends since the moment you stepped into camp-and you could still remember the moment when it happened.

Both of you laid on a blanket near the lake. Like had planned a picnic for just the two of you, and your nerves couldn't settle no matter how hard you tried. He was right next to you. Right there.

He had been doing things and planning cute little dates like this for quite sometime now, which often left you wondering if there was any meaning behind them, other than being friendly.

Your nervousness still wouldn't leave you, so you began pointing out various constellations in the night sky. "That's Hercules, and there's Ursa Major, and thats-" you turned to look at him, only to see his gaze already on you. If heart eyes were a real thing, that was probably the best way to describe the way he looked at you.

You stopped speaking and both of you just stared at each other. You didn't know who moved first, you or Luke. All you knew was that one moment he was next to you, and the other his lips were upon yours.

He pulled back a second later, an apology already leaving his mouth when you grabbed his shirt collar and kissed him again. He moved above you and rested his hands on your waist. Yours wove into his curls.

When you finally broke apart, he smiled. You laughed at that, and his smile got a little brighter.

The memory brought a smile on your face, and Luke noticed.

"What's on your mind, sunshine?"

The nickname caused a flush to rise on your face. "Thinkin' bout you."

"Oh really?"

"Mhmm."

He kissed the corner of you lips, before moving down your neck. You let out a content sigh and drew mindless patterns on the back of his shirt with your finger.

Just then somebody knocked on the van door.

"Guys, you might wanna hurry this up. Chiron's looking for the two of you."

***

3. And on my 18th birthday, we got matching tattoos

You stifled a laugh as you watched your boyfriend trip over a tree root because he was too busy looking at you.

His face held an expression on mock hurt as you grinned at his fall. You reached an arm out to help him up, and he took it, only to pull you down with him.

You landed on top of him, and winced. A wave of pain shot up from your upper arm, where underneath your shirt lay a brand new tattoo. Luke noticed your discomfort and moved. He also got one, but his was on his chest.

He lifted your shirt and pressed a soft kiss to the design. "Does that make it better, birthday girl?"

The corner of your mouth lifted. "Much better."

In honour of your 18th birthday today, the two of your snuck out of camp to get matching tattoos, something you always wanted. Now after successfully sneaking out of camp, reaching a tattoo parlor with running into trouble, getting a tattoo, and sneaking back into camp, you were on your way back to your respective cabins.

You looked at your watch. "Actually, my birthday ended, like two and a half hours ago."

"That doesn't count."

"I'm pretty sure it does.....We should get back, Luke. Someone might notice."

"Let them." He kissed you, making tremors run up and down your spine.

***

4. Used to steal you parents liquor, and climb to the roof. Talk about our future like we had a clue

The cheap whiskey burned as you downed it in one go. Luke watched you with amusement.

"What?"

"Nothing, nothing." He had that stupid look on his face, the one that made you want to kiss it off. He poured you another glass and you brought it to your lips again.

Empty bottles of gods-know-what lay on the roof of cabin 1, with empty glasses scattered around them.

"It can't be nothing, Luke." Your words slurred together as the alcohol took effect. You would definitely be regretting these desicions in the morning, but for now, you reveled in drunken glory.

"Okay, okay, hear me out," he waved his hands dramatically. "We should buy a van when we leave camp. Like, a big one. And travel the world. Just you, me, and the open road."

You giggled, your cheeks flushed from the wine. "A van? We’d look ridiculous!"

"Exactly!" Luke laughed, leaning closer. "We’d be the coolest couple ever. Imagine it—waking up on a beach, cooking breakfast in the back of our van, and just… living."

You bit your lip, your heart swelling at the thought. "That does sound amazing. But what about monsters? Money? You can’t just live off love and good vibes."

"We’ll figure it out! We can be like those mortal influencers or something. Post pictures of our adventures, and people will pay us to travel!"

You rolled your eyes playfully but couldn’t help the smile creeping onto your face. "And what if no one wants to pay us? What then, Mr. Influencer?"

"Then we’ll just sell the van and live in a treehouse!" he declared, raising his glass in a toast. "To treehouses and adventures!"

"To treehouses and adventures!" You echoed, clinking your glass against his. The warmth of the whiskey and the excitement of your dreams made everything feel possible.

As the two of two sipped, you leaned your head on Luke’s shoulder, feeling safe and content. "You know, I really like this idea. Just us against the world. But… what if we don’t want to live in a van forever?"

Luke paused, considering your words. "Then we’ll find a home. A cozy little place with a garden. We can grow our own vegetables and have a dog. Maybe a cat too. We can name them… uh, what’s a good name?"

"Definitely not 'van'," you teased, nudging him playfully. "But I like that idea. A home."

"Exactly!" he said, his eyes lighting up. "We’ll make it happen, (name). I can feel it."

You sat in comfortable silence, both lost in thoughts and away from the worries that came with being a demigod.

***

5. Never thought that one day, I'll be losing you...

"I-what?" You couldn't believe what you heard. You didn't want to believe what you heard.

"The gods are terrible people (name)! Think about all those unclaimed campers in cabin 11! They don't care about us. They never did and never will!"

"Luke, I know. Trust me, I know. But what you are suggesting...thats-thats crazy! The gods aren't perfect but-" the titan lord's name died on your tongue"-he'll be so much worse!"

You paced around the forest, leaves crunching under your feet. Luke brought you there being extremely secretive. You thought he might have planned a cute date, but you never expected this.

"(Name), just listen." He begged. You never saw him like this before. He looked at you with such desperation ypu didn't have any choice other than to hear him out.

"I know you're hesitant, but the Olympians have had they're chances so many damn times! And look where its gotten us! They treat us like pawns in their games!

"But with the Titans." He paused, and a hint of pride seeped into his voice. "We can forge our own path. Imagine a place where you’re not just a demigod, but a force to be reckoned with. You’d have the chance to prove yourself, to rise up and be part of something greater than any of us." Luke's voice softened slightly, as if sharing a secret. "I believe in you. I know you have what it takes to join us. Together, we can make a difference—one that will echo through history. (Name), will you stand with me and fight for our future?" His gaze held yours, waiting for your response, the weight of the decision heavy in the air.

"I...." You didn't know what to say. Luke said everything with such confidence that for a moment--but only a moment--you believed him. Your choice was already made.

Your hands found your blade, the one hidden inside your pocket. One moment, you stood infront of him defenceless, and the other you had pinned him against a tree, you dagger at his throat.

"Luke, please. You don't have to do this." Tears stung your eyes, but you didn't let them fall.

Luke's eyes hardened. "You know, Percy said the same thing."

Your eyes widened is shock. "Luke...what did you do?"

"He's near the creek. You should hurry, he doesn't have much time."

This time ypu couldn't stop your tears. A few escaped your eyes as you turned in the direction of the creek, leaving Luke Castellan to his fate. Whatever it would be.

____________________________________

My masterlist

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av1xtg · 1 year ago

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It's so funny to me that it's so obvious when I get a new hyperfixation because everything everywhere for example tis blog suddenly turns to what ever hyperfixation I have. . .

NOW I WANNA TALK ABOUT HUSK AND MY HEADCANONS FOR HIM BECAUSE THAT SILLY GRUMPY OLD-MAN CAT IS TAKING OVER MY BRAIN (contains a bit of huskerdust and bad grammar because english is not my first language but I have no respect for it so /j)

So I fully headcanon that husk has the most un organised and dirty room for some reason, like he never even bothered decorating it.

He hates baths and oils and stuff like that because it's really hard to take off from his wings and fur.

He refused to wash his hands with water and he cleaned his hands like cats do before eating food or serving drinks so charlie forced him to at least use wet wipes (idk how to write tht but hope you understand it)

He loves old fashioned love songs, usually mumbles some lyrics he still remebers while working and the others like to hear his singing.

The fluffies fluff ever, he doesn't really use any products (only dry shampoo from time to time) AND STILL HIS FUR IS EXTREMLY FLUFFY.

He got extremly bad body dismorfia when he arrived at hell.

The others tease him alot whenever he does any cat sounds.

Instead of a glass of water on his nightstand he had a bottle of whiskey or any other alcohol.

If he's in the mood (and charlie asks nicely + a day off) he might do some magic tricks to entretain the other guests.

Whenever he speaks spanish he always calls evryone pendejo (as a mexican that is also my favorite curse word I gotta add that). Like him and vaggie are fighting and she desn't know he speaks apanish so she starts insuting him in spanish and he goes "CALLATE LA PINCHE BOCA PENDEJA TUERTA" (traduction: SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU FUCKING ONE EYED WOMAN) and she shuts up because she didn't expect that. (Now they speak in spanish together sometimes)

One time Sr. Pentious gave him catnipp because angeldust dared him to and husk went WILD. Like everyone was laughing nd half th hotel was filled with cat scratchs while husk followed Sr.Pentious who was escaping with the catnip in hand from him kind of wild.

He wants hugs and he won't admitt it.

Used to be a bit to proud as an overlord which is also half the reason why he lost to alastor.

Fucker cries a lot and won't admitt it because he already stablished to everyone that "I don' give a shit about anything and fuck y'all" and now he just can't.

He falls asleep a lot during work because he is drunk.

He owns a phone but uses it like a grandma, he puts on the glasses to read and everything

He once had a very bad night and got EXTREMELY DRUNK and ended up doing a karaoke with charlie and Sr Pentious.

Alastor would ocationaly take him to the Overlords meetings as his "body guard" and he would get extrembly embarrased because everyone recognised him and he knew they all thought of him as a failure for being an Overord who lost his own soul to Alastor and was now forced to obey him.

Thanks to loser,baby I think Husk may be a pet names man (affectionatelly both romantic and just with friends)

Husk reminds me a bit of "No surprises" by radiohead (i don't really know how to explain it but yeah)

I think his relationship with angel (romantically speaking) would be really gentle like, cuddles, hugs, little kisses, cause he wants to show that romantic relationships don't always need to have sex included (angel appretiates that)

I feel like they told each other their felling for the other but bth came to the conclution that maybe they are not in the best mental state to get into a relationship at the moment so they asked charlie and vaggie to help a bit.

I have more but this is getting a bit long so I'll make a part two!!!!!!!

(Have some photos of the silly 70 yr old grumpy cat-man)

#hazbin hotel husk #Husk headcanons #husker #Hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon #vaggie #charlie morningstar #Sr.Pentious #He became my comfort character so quick damn #hazbin hotel headcanon #Huskerdust #Angelhusk #loser baby

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whyse7vn · 1 year ago

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nudes? -

[ ot7 x reader ]

SEOKJIN -

jin: you’re so special

i wish i was special

y/n: r u flirting with me

jin: yeah

y/n: never do it again

jin: sorry

i’m a creep

i’m a weirdo

y/n: it’s true

jin: yeah :/

y/n: i thought you hated radiohead

jin: not today

they speak for me ❤️

y/n: ok

jin: do you miss me be honest

y/n: you don’t want my honesty right now

jin: ur right you know me so well

i’m in a vulnerable state rn

y/n: yeah

jin: so that’s why i’m gonna humbly ask you to send nudes

y/n:

you rn

jin: STOP

NO ITS NOT

PLEASE STOP

y/n: *sighs looks left looks right* idk if i can send you anything jin

jin: stop 😕

y/n: roleplay with me if you want to see some ass pretty boy 🙈🙈🙈🙈

jin: *looks up at you with pleading eyes* p-please

y/n: *pats you on head looks conflicted* i really shouldn’t jinnie

jin: *tears slowly flow out my eyes* PLEASE

*kneels and hugs ur legs now sobbing*

y/n: fucking crybaby bitch *pulls out a gun and empties the whole clip into ur head while reciting jjk chapter 236*

jin: okay wtf

y/n: sorry i was getting into it

jin: that was you into it?

y/n: yeah?

jin: okay

y/n: yeah shut the fuck up you little ant carrying the stupid little bag on a stick

jin: i’m sorry

y/n: know ur place

u little slut

jin: i am NOT roleplaying with you again

y/n: k bye.

jin: ….

…………..

y/n: i said BYE

jin: *whimpers*

y/n: LMAOOOO UR A FREAKKKKK

jin: i can’t believe you made me do that

y/n: didn’t make you do anything

you did that all willingly

u fr wasn’t lying when you said ur a weirdo man

jin: whatever

y/n: miss u xx

6 images sent

NAMJOON -

y/n: no joon but i’m saying what the fuck is a naevis

like i thought it was the fandom name but turns out ITS NOT

WHAT IS NAEVIS

like wdym they said “naevis we love you” and it’s not the fans

WHO IS IT JOON WHO

don’t get me wrong i love aespa like down to the ground but tf are you guys talking about who is is the naevis and do we need to fight

namjoon: i get you baby

y/n: i knew you would understand

you’re the only one i have in this world

me and joon against the world

we’re so cute

namjoom: the cutest!

y/n: WAIT BABE CUZ U SPILLED

WE ARE THE CUTEST WE ARE

BEST COUPLE

like no joke we are like what people dream about

wow joon ur smart

what did you eat today

namjoon: toast baby

it’s 9 in the morning

y/n: ok what is naevis tho

please stay on track

do u know joon?

namjoon: not sure baby

y/n: ok wtf is wrong with you

it feels like ur here but not here

and where are all ur stupid little dad emojis

where is the namjoon i know

namjoon: sorry baby

y/n: ok and you’ve called me baby like how many times??

you only say that when u wanna fuck lmao

OH MYGOD KIM NAMJOON

U NASTY BITCH

WHAT HAVE YOU BEEN DOING

ARE YOU A FREAK

OMYGODFC

namjoon: baby :(

y/n: UR SICK UR SO SICK

namjoon: not doing anything i promise

y/n: I DO NOT BELIVE YOU

namjoon: i’m not a pervert

and i would never lie to you

you know that

y/n: hehehehehe

don’t you know that to me

what if i don’t know joon

heheheh

just imagined you saying that

you know that >:-|

with ur silly little srs face

that little face was u by the way

anyways

you will NOT seduce me

namjoon: ok

y/n: ok

namjoon: ok

y/n: ok

namjoon: ok

y/n: ok

namjoon: send me nudes pretty

y/n: wow namjoons a whore guys

namjoon: guys?

who are you talking to

y/n: i can’t take this

HEHHE I AM BLUSHING THO HEHEHDH

you’ve changed joon….

namjoon: sorry? idk what to say baby

it feels like i’m taking to like 4 people at once

y/n: UR WHAT????

namjoon: baby stop being silly

y/n: silly?

silly is such a silly word

heheheh

like ur soooo silly

isn’t that silly joon

namjoon: stop saying silly

y/n: can’t help being the naturally silly girl i am joon like i’m just silly i was born like this

namjoon: i’m wearing my glasses btw

y/n: oh?

namjoon: yeah baby

y/n: what was it that u wanted joon >.<

JUNGKOOK -

jungkook: babe can i try something please

y/n: no

jungkook: good girl

y/n: ???

jungkook: was that nice?

y/n: no

jungkok: ok then

y/n: was that it?

jungkook: should i end my life

y/n: let me think about it

jungkook: ok

babe

y/n: yeah

jungkook: do you you ever feel really exposed to the dinosaurs?

y/n: what?

jungkook: i feel so exposed to them

y/n: what does that mean

jungkook: they know me

but like

it’s too much

they know too much

y/n: they are dead

jungkook: ok

i’m sorry

y/n: are you ok?

jungkook: i wish i was born as a little potato

so i could be put into a soup or something

or maybe i would be made into a little mcdonalds fry

y/n: what are you going on about

jungkook: babe

time is an illusion

you have to get it before it gets you

y/n: jungkook what do you actually want rn

jungkook: i love speaking to you

can i not speak to you

y/n: what do you want from me

jungkook: so like

y/n: so like????

jungkook: canyouplssendmenudes

y/n: is that it?

jungkook: i love you

y/n: 4 images sent

jungkook: i could cry

y/n: please don’t

jungkook: love my life

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

do you miss me as much as i miss you

home soon babe 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

ur so pretty

i want to peel off ur skin and suck on ur bones

y/n: what the hell

jungkook: can i?

y/n: could u just not say i’m hot and move on please

jungkook: ur HOT

HOT AF BABE

HOTTIE

HOT AHHH

SPICY HOT

TOO HOT TO HANDLE AHH

BURNING I AM

TOOOOOO HOOOT

y/n: enough

jungkook: sorry

HOSEOK -

hobi:

y/n: not reading all of that sorry for your loss or congratulations idk

hobi: fair enough

y/n: yeah

hobi: ok send ur nudes rn

i’ll rate them 1-10

y/n: that makes me want to throw up

hobi: don’t even stress it’s gonna be a 10

i just like the edge it gives you when u know ur being judged

makes u panic so you get creative

y/n: that sounds toxic as hell???

hobi: probably is idk

y/n: let’s break up

hobi: nooo my creative girl don’t go 😢

y/n: going

hobi: can you call me daddy like once

y/n: you are out of ur mind

hobi: it’ll probably be really hot

y/n: we have done this once already hoseok

you literally threw up after i said it

hobi: ok i was young then

it wasn’t right calling a young man like me daddy

but i’ve grown now pls

y/n: it was 2 months ago

hobi: my love i’ve grown honestly 🙏🏻

y/n: can you leave me alone

hobi: kk send me pics tho xx

y/n: xx?

hobi: i kissed you

yk to be nice?

don’t tell me you want a hug too

i spoil you too much

xxoooxxxoo

y/n: i will kill you

hobi: ok but be honest was this a good attempt

y/n: this was ur worst by far

ur getting desperate babe and it’s showing

hobi: IVE BEEN DESPERATE SINCE THE MORNING

pls pls pls pls pls pls PLEASE SEND ME NUDES PLEASE

y/n: yawn the begging is getting boring

hobi: FUCK U

i’ll be back in 5

need thinking time

y/n: did you just send me money?

hobi: no?

y/n: ?

hobi: yeah :/

y/n: this is getting sad

2 images sent

hobi: god is good amen 🙏🏻

YOONGI -

yoongi: can you

y/n: can you

yoongi: i can

y/n: you can

yoongi: yeah

y/n: that’s crazy

yoongi: not really

but pls can you

y/n: it’s really crazy yoongi

yoongi: i’m telling you it’s not

y/n: it is

yoongi: why

y/n: why?

yoongi: yeah that’s what i asked

y/n: the fact that you have to ask why is even crazier

yoongi: it is?

y/n: it is.

yoongi: oh

y/n: i hope ur ashamed of yourself

yoongi: but you normally can

y/n: ok?

yoongi: ok?

y/n: people change

yoongi: clearly

y/n: are you trying to fight me rn

yoongi: kinda

y/n: typical

yoongi: but like

y/n: but like?

yoongi: a fight but kinda different yk?

y/n: ur not right

yoongi: :/

y/n: yoongi

yoongi: yeah

y/n: can i be honest

yoongi: you can

y/n: i have no idea what we are taking about

yoongi: what

y/n: what

yoongi: we are supposed to be on the same page

y/n: i’m like 15 pages ahead rn

yoongi: no

you are 15 pages behind

y/n: pretty sure i’m ahead but whatever

yoongi: i’m telling you you’re not

y/n: it’s okay to be wrong sometimes babe

yoongi: ok

y/n: so proud of you

love when you learn new things

yoongi in his acceptance era ❤️❤️

yoongi: send me nudes

y/n: OMGGGG

yoongi also in his slut era

yoongi: whatever send pls

y/n: i even got a please i must be dreaming wow

yoongi: it was a pls

so it holds less value than a please

y/n: wow ur not acting like you want these nudes

yoongi: please :3

y/n: OMG THE FAMOUS YOONGI CAT FACE

best day ever

yoongi: fr best day ever!!

y/n: wow that’s scary never speak like me again

yoongi: i won’t

that made me physically ill

y/n: good

anyways beg me one more time please ;)

yoongi: you naked now please

y/n: um

are you telling me or asking me

that one felt very conflicting

yoongi: why are we still talking

y/n: maybe because we are deeply in love idk

yoongi: nude 4 nude

y/n: SAY LESS

4 images sent

JIMIN -

jimin: send nudes?

y/n: are u fr? not even a hi?

jimin: hi

send nudes?

y/n: no

how about u send me a stack

jimin: i can do that

lowkey prostitution but i can still do that

y/n: that was not in exchange for nudes btw

jimin: LAME

i support sex work

y/n: you just shamed prostitution

jimin: i did not

y/n: leave alone

jimin: can you not be emo rn please omg

i just want nudes

so i can put it on my onlyfans

y/n: ur what?

jimin: onlyfans

y/n: since when do you have an onlyfans?

jimin: i’m building a life for us babe ❤️

y/n: you are an idol

jimin: ok?

can i not share my ALL goods with with the world?

y/n: ur goods?

u asked ME for nudes

jimin: are you not mine?

y/n: no?

jimin: ok wrong answer but i get it feminism and stuff

stand ur ground queen 🙏🏻❤️

y/n: do not uplift me rn

jimin: sorry i can’t help it praise shesus!!!!!

y/n: go away

jimin: ok

let’s make some content babydoll

y/n: baby what?

jimin: think my first post should be feet pics

y/n: no

jimin: ur right they probably would want a full body pic first

y/n: can you actually go away

jimin: i can’t

i belong with you

my soul itches when we are apart

y/n: idc!

ur a freak say away

jimin: :p

y/n: 🖕🏽

jimin: ok nudes now

jimin sent 3 pictures

for you queen

y/n: gross

jimin: don’t lie

it’s a good angle no?

y/n: no

2 images sent

now leave me alone

TAEHYUNG -

y/n: bring me back cookies pls

taehyung: babe i’m feeling miscovus idk if i can

y/n: what?

taehyung: miscivous

miceovus

movovius

THIS IS ME RN!!!

y/n: cookies yes or no

taehyung: ok but u pay for them

y/n: this would go crazy in the gc

but ok

check ur bank account

taehyung: ummm wtf

that was not what i meant

y/n: ?

taehyung: i told you i’m feeling miscovus

y/n: mischievous?

taehyung: ok show off

but yeah i’m feeling this micovus vibe rn

y/n: how have you spelt it wrong again?

taehyung: send me ur boobs

y/n: woah

taehyung: that is exactly what i will say when i see ur boobs on my screen

y/n: u make me sick

taehyung: woof woof meow pls send bae

y/n: was that necessary

taehyung: probably not but i’m feeling the vibes rn

y/n: that’s gross

never say that again

taehyung: it’s the truth tho venus in retrograde and ur boobs need to be on my screen

the universes is giving the the vibes

777

222

333

1066

y/n: 1066?

taehyung: the battle of hastings?

y/n: what?

taehyung: no babe why did mother earth literally just call me rn and say ur seeing it boobs rn would balance my infinity stones 😭

y/n: my head hurts

so bad

taehyung: i’m so upset for u fr but

can you balance me

oh pls oh pls

y/n: if i don’t get my fucking cookies after this i’m gonna be so mad

1 image attached

taehyung: hehehehehehhehehehehehehe

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turnin9pag3 · 7 months ago

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GUYS ITS REGULUS ARCTURUS BLACKS BIRTHDAY I LOVE HIM SM SO IN HONOR OF HIM HERE ARE A TON OF THINGS THAT REMIND ME OF HIM

the movie 500 days of summer

the book a list of cages

the show i am not okay with this

the character viggo grimborn

the animal sugar glider (dont ask y idek)

All of the following lyrics:

“screaming while the exit signs read heavens waiting” (circles, ptv)

“im gonna tear out the thread one by one from your skin til your bones feel embarrassed from all the attention” (i dont care if your contagious, ptv)

“why dont you call me out for leaving all the lights on? why dont you call?” (growing/dying, the backseat lovers)

“i know that good lives make bad stories” (sober to death, car seat headrest)

“youll ask why and there will be no answer so you ask for how long and there will be so answer then youll ask what can i do and there will be no answer and eventually you will shut up” (fill in the blank, car sear headrest)

“karma police arrest this man he talks in math he buzzes like a fridge hes like a detuned radio” (karma police, radiohead)

“try to, try to forget that your bones will dismantle and the dreams you had they’ll collide with time” (re do, modern baseball)

“laced with brilliant smiles and shining eyes and perfect posture but youre barley scraping by” (the places you have come to fear the most, dashboard confessional)

“oh you never seem to notice my heart beats for you so ill open you up and make yours beat for me too” (mx sinister, idkhbtfm)

“and i went crazy again today looking for a strand to climb looking for a little hope” (paper bag, fiona apple)

“why am i always the bad guy when im just trying to help. this body means nothing to me. at all.” (this body means nothing to me, shrimp)

“id rather die than have to cry in front of you. fight or flight id rather lie than tell you im in love with you” (fight or flight, conan gray)

“im my own worst enemy… sometimes i dont wanna feel nothing on the inside” (complete collapse, sws)

“i dont want what you have i want to be you… my name is brutus but the people will call me rex” (brutus, the buttress)

he is probably my favorite character out of everything ive read or watched. his storyline is tragic and beautiful and im honestly obsessed with how its written out. an unknown martyr. the most poetic way to die.

Make sure to say happy birthday to the stars tonight for him! (or the sea 🤭)

#harry potter #james potter #the marauders #moony wormtail padfoot and prongs #james & peter & remus & sirius #sirius black #jegulus #regulus black #remus lupin #black brothers #hp regulus

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s0lit4ir3 · 1 year ago

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intro 🪼

hi, welcome to my blog!

my deco tree

▪︎ about me

hey, my name is gray :) my pronouns are she/they, but i don't really mind any ☆

▪︎ things i love

general: osemanverse (!!!), tori spring, heartstopper, cats, music, billie eilish (!!!), sharks, movies, my headphones, music, cavetown, jake & johnnie, sam and colby.

movies: every tim burton movie, especially edward scissorhands, donnie darko, beautiful boy, dead poets society, girl interrupted, the beat beneath my feet, coraline, moonrise kingdom, mary poppins, what's eating gilbert grape

▪︎ music

some music artists i love are:

billie eilish!!!!, radiohead, my chemical romance, pierce the veil, cavetown, finneas, all time low, boygenius (+solos), nirvana, the smiths, alex g, queen, girl in red, david bowie, never shout never, elliott smith, conan gray, baby queen, the neighbourhood, panic! at the disco

▪︎ other

tori spring is my favourite character. i don't use capital letters because they hurt my eyes (lol). i use tone indicators sometimes and it may be helpful if you do too. my favourite book is every book alice oseman has written. my favourite alice oseman books are solitaire and radio silence. i am a massive billie eilish fan and i will never shut up about her.

tw sometimes :D

▪︎ posts

i'll probably just post just whatever's on my mind. i also reblog a lot of stuff. i probably also post way too much. (deal with it)

▪︎DNI

homophobes, any discrimination, over 18 content (im a minor pls backoff 😙)

▪︎ links

letterboxd

airbuds

uh, yeah. you can send asks because i love answering questions. also feel free to be moots/friends! im bad at conversations and sometimes avoid it but im friendly i swear

this is a safe place for everyone :P

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twinvenus · 3 months ago

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BWEIRDOCTOBER day 2 - new oc

this is one of my newest ocs that i’m really happy with, called parlo! i made him last month.

he owns a library and makes a lot of textiles. he has a pretty unique body type so he tends to make his own clothes, such as his beautiful sweater.

the third is a little outdated as it is concept art, but captures his vibe very well.

bit more about him and his design under the cut!

parlo is part of a kind of tacky halloween setting i’ve got in my head that also includes my ocs Scary Clary (who works at the library) and Pebby Yeggs, who features in the first drawing. i’ve decided that parlo created it and is kind of its dad.

i think he’s a pretty well-meaning but disconcerting kind of guy that you really wouldn’t want to be stuck at a bus station with. tends to accidentally be very rude at times. probably comes off as decently old, deeply knowledgeable but has trouble explaining himself, and is pretty shut-off. definitely a major bookworm and probably has some really niche interests. he loves children. he’s not fully fleshed out yet, since he’s so new, but those are the vibes!

he has a lot of design inspirations including the long-arm tribe from one piece, zacharie from OFF, no-face, and that one time they got a bunch of kids to illustrate a radiohead song. his face in particular is directly inspired by that.

i got his name from parlophone records, a label radiohead was under. apparently in punjabi “parlo” means the end of the world, or doomsday, which ended up being pretty fitting vibes wise!

his body is very baggy in places, bony in others, and veiny across the board. his limbs are quite loose and flaily. when he gets excited his arms can go pretty crazy and he jumps from side to side, if you can imagine it.

at the moment i imagine he has an additional pair of arms under his sweater that he’s self conscious of. not totally sure if i’ll use that, but yeah! very odd, odd body. visible ribs and a big gut. super wide torso and an insane thigh gap. pretty big feet too…

thanks for reading all this if you did!

#bweirdoctober #oc tober #original characters #ocs #my ocs #oc: parlo #oc: pebby #character design

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th3-silliest-goose · 2 months ago

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Music to get to know me :))))

I got this off of pinterest, which got it off of tumblr.

A song with a color in the title: "Paint It, Black" by The Rolling Stones

A song with a number in the title: "One" by Harry Nilsson

A song that reminds me of summertime: "Dog Days are Over" by Florence + the Machine

A song that reminds me of someone I would rather forget about: "Screw Loose" by Alli Mauzey

A song that needs to be played LOUD: "Bohemian Rhapsody" by Queen

A song that makes me want to dance: "Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! (A Man After Midnight)" by ABBA

A song to drive to: "You're So Vain" by Carly Simon

A song about drugs or alcohol: "Angel of Small Death and the Codeine Scene" by Hozier

A song that makes me happy: "Kiss With A Fist" by Florence + The Machine

A song that makes me sad: "Class of 2013" by Mitski

A song that I never get tired of: "Could Have Been Me" by The Struts

A song from my preteen years: "Death of a Bachelor" by Panic! At The Disco

One of my favorite 80s songs: "Another Brick in the Wall, Part 2" by Pink Floyd

A song that I would love played at my wedding: "Hotel Room Service" by Pitbull

A song that is a cover by another artist: "The Man Who Sold the World" by Nirvana

One of my favorite classical songs: "Lacrimosa" by Mozart

A song that would sing a duet with on karaoke: "Somethin' Stupid" by Frank Sinatra and Nancy Sinatra

A song from the year I was born: "When The Sun Goes Down" by The Arctic Monkeys

A song that makes me think about life: "No Suprises" by Radiohead

A song that has many meanings to me: "Home" by Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros

A favorite song with a person's name in the title: "Thérèse" by Maya Hawke

A song that moves me forward: "That Would I" by Hozier

A song that I think everybody should listen to: "Life on Mars?" by David Bowie

A song by a band I wish were still together: "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds" by The Beatles

A song by an artist no longer living: "You're Dead" by Norma Tanega

A song that makes me want to fall in love: "Midnight Love" by Girl in Red

A song that breaks my heart: "Velvet Ring" by Big Thief

A song by an artist with a voice that I love: "Bang Bang (My Baby Shot Me Down)" by Nancy Sinatra

A song that I remember from my childhood: "Shut Up and Dance" by WALK THE MOON

A song that reminds me of myself: "The Fool On The Hill" by The Beatles

#music #get to know me #my music

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charliespringverse · 1 year ago

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iwbft – monday: a brief summary of my annotations

all highlighted quotes: 101

· ouch/ow/owie: 1

· real/felt/relatable/so true: 4

· aroace: 3

· ☹/☹☹/☹☹☹: 5

They usually just found me annoying, because once I start talking about The Ark, or anything really, I find it kind of hard to stop. — i often reference my jimmy kinnie shit but like,,, angel

I love my real name, but Angel feels like a part of me now. I'm just not used to hearing it in real life. — jay vibes

'And you must give me some writing material, boring girl!! Love you xx' — she took u up on this x

They seem connected. Like the Beatles on Abbey Road, or a group of toddlers holding hands on a preschool trip to the park. — the latter is closer to the truth

The girls. Our girls. — "our girls" vs "our boys" :(

Rowan, the tallest, is to my left with a hand on my shoulder. Lister is to my right, his hands in his pockets. We never really discussed this. It's just what we do now. — does lister keep his hands in his pockets bc he doesn't feel as connected ?

Fortunately for us, I'm excellent at faking being okay with things, even when inside my brain there is a tiny screaming gnome who is definitely not okay. — iconic line

I think he's attractive. Sort of averagely spaced out facial features. That haircut that all the lads are wearing nowadays. Bit like he was designed in a lab. I don't know, really. He looks like the sort of person I should think is attractive. — the a in lgbtqia+ stands for angel rahimi

Not miserable old Radiohead. — boooo rare angel L

'I mean, I guess it's unusual to be into that sort of music, but, you know, it's better than being too obvious.' — fuck off back to ur bucket hat

I say, upbeat as possible, 'Hi, you all right?' — p. 27 !! (note: page 27 is where angel mentions hating when ppl say 'you all right?' as a greeting)

I say this all with a laugh but I do actually wish people thought we were a rock band. We're a rock band. Electropop at a stretch. I'm not a music snob. Shut up. — me in my 5sos era c. 2014

You can tell he gets a little nervous at events like these. — "a little nervous" yeah?

'Not because you think he's attractive...?' — men (derogatory)

#iwbft reread #yes i'm choosing to be incredibly annoying in how i go about posting for the reread #but here we are babey !#note: this isn't All my annotations it's just the ones i feel like i would share in conversation w an iwbft-enjoyer friend #iwbftreread #if anyone saw the unedited version of this post in which i accidentally called angel 'april' No You Didn't #in my defence i am the Cool Gay Uncle™ to a precious lil toddler named april and i'm very used to typing her name

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procycn · 2 years ago

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okay as promised, vol 3 round four thoughts:

the high evolutionary && rocket are soooo belos && hunter owlhouse coded which is honestly something i picked up on after my first watch, but it keeps sticking out to me more && more. just the condescending tone of voice he uses when he speaks to rocket in, but also the way he was almost kind && affectionate in a really twisted && manipulative way early on just gets my brain buzzing. he made rocket feel like he was special (creep by radiohead plays loudly) && he honestly had moments that seemed like genuine connection when they were talking about music, when rocket showed promise && he could connect with him on a more intellectual level than the others. i don't doubt that he never intended batch 89 to be the citizens of the new world, but i think he was inspired by the early promise rocket showed. it was only when he realized rocket had surpassed him && was smarter && he couldn't control him anymore that he got jealous && shut down the whole thing.

which leads me to this: rocket trusted the high evolutionary to care for him only to find that he didn’t. this betrayal carried over years into the future, to the point that rocket felt like no one actually cared about him or wanted him around because he wasn’t good enough (looking at vol 2 and infinity war specifically here). so for mantis to later say that everyone is happy that he’s alive && that they love him is huge, i think.

also, rocket listening to creep in the beginning (a song he chose to play over the speakers) && then playing dog days are over at the end, paralleled with peter wanting to take the zune away from him (&& also all their fighting over being captain beforehand) and then peter entrusting the zune to rocket is a metaphor for how rocket always had the understanding and competency to be captain (&& to understand how music is part of them all and central to what they do) and finally had the chance to prove it, with peter's blessing && understanding of rocket's abilities.

rocket getting to happy yell at the end vs his despairing scream when lylla died

the fact that the last shot of the movie not counting credit scenes was rocket (being happy as described above) && the last shot of vol 2 (which was also a huge rocket movie just as much as this one but in a different way) was ALSO rocket (hopeful but crying) is so ooooooough. BOTH of these movies were about rocket in this essay i will —

i think when rocket says “no pete. all of them” that’s the first time he calls him that??? at least on screen, i don’t think he’s ever used his first name before? so that's really special, especially to skip over peter && go right to pete (&& then for peter to sign his note with the zune as pete... ow).

things i wish we'd gotten: rocket reacting to gamora being there. rocket && nebula hugging. rocket calling peter his best friend in return (or calling nebula his best friend because i think an argument can be made for that too tbh). more rocket && mantis in general. rocket actually telling them about lylla && co. a 1v1 scene of rocket && peter. but overall? i'm still so happy with it.

#long post sorry !!!#➟➟➟➟ ✹ ( & ooc )#➟➟➟➟ ✹ ( & meta )

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hellosaysnoxx · 2 years ago

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whoaa cool blog hey!!! can i have a south park matchup :-)

im a teen in high school and my style is kind of slightly-alternative??? like a middle schooler would call me emo but also it's just smudged eyeliner and fluffy bleached hair- i dress more like uhh https://pin.it/6yJ99JL that general look

i like the cure and the smiths and radiohead and loser music idk

i'm a dude but also i'm like SO high maintenance- i'll show up to school 15 minutes late with my eyeliner and fake freckles and curled hair. i once dide show uo to school because my hair iron broke and i look stupid with my natural 1a hair its like a bowl cut

i'll show up to 4th period after luncj with an iced coffee and red bull and finish both by the bell- teachers have emailed me about it 😭

my personality is like. hmm

i act really aloof and probably kind of awkward and rude because i dont know how to talk to people

but once you get to know me im actyally like insane like INSANE

i dont shut up i will NEVER shut up i will text you at 1am and be like "do you think it would be good if i put ketchup in macking cheese is that normal"

but despite that i'm surprisingly emotionally intelligent- something i take pride in

i'm very reasonable in conflict and i can separate emotion from logic

plus i'm really good at articulating myself!!! i can communicate well and i' patient with a lot of people

also im kind of a dumbass but i also have a 4.0 gpa and i do competetive classical piano (sterotypical asian kid moment)

HEY ANON!! :P

So first of all, you seem so cool like HAIDBDINDJFBDBBD/pos

Second of all, you didn't add what kind of relationship you wanted, so I'm just going to go with a platonic one (I hope that's okay😭)

Also, I hope you read the rules because I say there that I am not good at South Park matchups, so don't expect me to be a really accurate person😞

Not proof read!! (Usually never is sorry)

Anyway!! You're matchup isssss.....

Kenny Mccormick

He did call you emo once, but that was with Cartman😭

Sometimes, during school, he'll see you be there for like an hour and then leave, and he's wondering what you're doing and why you leave so early, especially in your grade

But then he doesn't really mind, what's his business

When he apologizes for calling you emo, you both get to know each other better

He LOVES your insane personality/p (platonic)

You're like his older sibling, and you'll both cause mischief together sometimes

Also, he doesn't really care if you don't shut up

You both would text random shit during 1am fr💀

*Readers name* - Do you think it would be good if I put ketchup in Mac n cheese is that normal?

Kenny - Put mustard on it too

He's also really happy that you sometimes have your serious moments

Is also happy that you care and is really grateful that you have patience

YOU PLAY PIANO??

"Can you play the among us theme song?"

Would ask you so many things about why you play the piano

He didn't expect it

Will be angry if Cartman comments "Asian kid" to you for playing the piano

He'll see you sometimes in the hallway and chat with you for a while

When he introduces you to Cartman, Kyle and Stan they were scared and thought you kind of seemed cool

But Cartman called you emo and then they left

Kenny was still there, tho and apologized for him💀

He texts you 24/7 and sends the most random sh1t ever

You don't know how he got your number

I think you both would be sending weird shit together, having a silly talk🤩

You collect random stuff? He'll give you random stuff

In the hallways, he gives you a small piece of metal and walks away

Also, your nickname is Crow now

YAY I'M FINALLY DONE AND I HAD MOTIVATION😍

I hope you have a good day/night anon!♡/p

#kenny mccormick #Kenny #kentucky fried chicken #kentucky #💀#aaaaaa #whoppers #matchups #south park #eric cartman #kyle broflovski #stan marsh #im tired #Good night #nevermind lol

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dontletmewaittoolong · 9 months ago

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hi my name is vince. i have been the victim of a terrible affliction called "becoming obsessed with the beatles" and i don't think that's quelling anytime soon.

beatles tumblr is a very silly and funny place and i love looking through what everyone is posting here, so i thought it'd be nice to make a sideblog dedicated to it. i'm kind of allergic to most social media, but beatles tumblr is kind of the one place i can stand because everyone is really funny and passionate. these kind of niche-ish communities on tumblr bring me back to the atmosphere of social media when i was younger lol, it's great.

i'll mostly be reblogging stuff here, but i think i'll post my beatles-related art here :) i might sometimes post stuff relating to other bands too. this blog's focus will generally be on the beatles and its members, but i'm ok with this being a general music blog as well.

anyways, about me:

my favorite beatle is george. i never shut up about him. sometimes i wonder if i'm a bigger george fan or a bigger beatles fan🤔

i like a lot of music, but i think radiohead is the band that means the most to me, next to the bug boys. might be that sprinkled in here.

i will not be normal here sorry guys. maybe that's a given though.

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whatsonmedia · 1 year ago

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In Conversation With - Chew Magna

Meet Laurie and Co, four lads who together make Chew Magna, an indie quartet from Manchester who have gradually been building up both momentum as well as a fan base following. Like so many other bands out there, they have had their ups and downs and the road ahead to rock bliss certainly presented them with its challenges. Interestingly taking their name directly from a map they look forward to bringing both their music, and self-titled album to a venue near you. "It’s quite an interesting record in terms of the variety of styles, its primarily indie rock with pronounced influences of style" How did you guys first get together? We knew each other from previous bands / the Manchester music scene in the 00s and early 10s. Our previous bands played together and we would see each other at bigger shows etc In the time you've been together as a band how has the journey been so far? We are the classic Covid casualty band. We've known each other around the Manchester scene for years and years - we were all on the same label at one point (Red Deer Club) but in separate bands - and we finally got in a room to jam. We'd built up a decent rep as a live outfit and stuck out an EP in 2019, which we recorded as live at The White Hotel in Salford. Great venue and a place that suited our live sound. We'd all but got an album recorded and mixed when the first lockdown hit. We looked to keep the energy alive through the forced shut down by sharing clips of ideas and working on them independently. We've still got a big library of work ready to work on but we knew we had to get this debut album out before moving on. As with everything this side of the pandemic, it's taken longer than we hoped to get this collection of songs out in to the world. We can't wait for people to hear it. What music where you listening to in your earlier years? We all loved guitar music as kids/teens and we were in high school during the Kerrang TV/minidisc era, so I guess it was standard stuff like Nirvana, Greenday, Pixies, Smashing Pumpkins, Foo Fighters, Radiohead as well as nu metal, garage rock revival and landfill indie stuff that was massive in those years too. Which musical influences do you use for the bands? 80s/90s alt is our touch point - everything from Fugazi, Husker Du and Minute Men, to Pavement, MBV and Dinosaur Jr. Chew Magna, what's the story behind the band's name? Laurie saw it on a map and thought it sounded like a gnarly 90s influenced indie rock band! Describe the band in 5 words Loud energetic motoric alt rock Now, you're releasing your self-titled album, what can you tell us about it? It’s quite an interesting record in terms of the variety of styles, its primarily indie rock with pronounced influences of kraut rock, post hardcore, shoegaze and punk. It’s also probably 75% instrumental – we were really influenced by two records: Open Your Heart by The Men and You’re Living All Over Me by Dinosaur Jr – they’re both records with long instrumental passages; the vocals come and go rather than always being the main focus of the songs. How long did it take you to put it all together? The album came together quickly. We wrote the main chunk over a few months and lobbed in a couple of newer songs during the recording / mixing process. The writing and recording were the easy bit! The pandemic was the real challenge. So, depending on how the vinyl format goes could it resume release on that format? We always wanted out record on vinyl. In a digital world there is still a joy to having something tangible. Something we can hold in our hands as proof of the work. We're very grateful to have had the support to print up the run we have so we'll see how it goes! And will you be touring this with this record? We’d love to play in Chew Magna village again! Where can people check out your music? Our album will be on all good streamers - along with our debut White Hotel EP Spotify here: https://open.spotify.com/artist/3lQVdEMIlFX2JhcYFAelCr?si=e35dfa19a5d34741 You can preorder / buy the vinyl here: https://straycatrecords.bigcartel.com/ Read the full article

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carolmunson · 1 year ago

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HERE WE GOOOO:

He holds up the Soundgarden CD before using his teeth to rip open the cellophane covering the plastic case.

Shut up that's so him to use his teeth.

His face softens. “You’re a doll.”

I'm gonna lose my mind.

"Listen to this transition," he insists, his voice filled with the same awe that it always does when he talks about music, "The shift from acoustic to electric guitar is seamless." “I wish I could hear it the way you do.”

Why did this innocent exchange already inform me that I'm going to be sad about this entry.

“It’s lyrics that hook you. You’ve always got so many words floating around in that big brain of yours.”

GOD.

“Just stay here with me tonight, okay?” Rolling to your side, you wrap your hand across his chest, offering him the only protection that you can. “Yeah, okay.”

Don't even LOOK AT ME RIGHT NOW.

Unknown: I admit last night could have gone better. Let me make it up to you. Coffee? After tapping in your passcode, you open the message app to reply. You: Wrong number

This is me coded.

His shoulders slump as he looks across to the cherry built-in shelves holding the rows of tailored suits hung by progression of color. “You always look beautiful.”

God I love my hot sexy brooding hulking husband, also.

“How else am I going to keep spoiling you?” He stands, dropping the towel and picking up the black Tom Ford boxer briefs he set out before his shower.

The pain I was feeling before? Currently healed. I am team Steve for now.

Unknown: Nice try, doll. Robin gave me your number.

I am wavering.

“What do you have going on today?” The well-defined muscles of his sculpted shoulders, earned from never skipping a day at the gym, flex before disappearing into his shirt sleeves.

Nope, still team Steve.

He possesses zero patience, holds a disdain for people, and dismisses any music created after 1978.

Every man in my family.

"Well, it's time to get reacquainted. I want a series chronicling the opening of CursedSound Recordings, and I want you to write it."

UGH. I audibly groaned.

“Give it to Miles.” “I’m giving it to you. Morales is busy with–”

I see you there, hehehe.

The mention of Steve’s name sets your teeth on edge. He hadn't breathed a word about this assignment earlier, and now he's reaching out to Hopper, painting a picture as if you're disrespecting your editor and exploiting your personal connections to secure a story.

OMG! LITTLE SNEAK!

The crystal blue of the cassette is dulled behind the transparent black window, but you can still make out the handwriting on the yellowed label. For when you miss me. “Did you ever listen?” Everyday.

There are tears in my eyes right now. I literally have goosebumps.

“You’re moody,” he accuses, leaning closer to your ear to be heard over music. “No, I’m not.” “It’s true,” he shakes his head. “You’re moody. Moody dick.”

LMAO Argyle is really my MVP here. I love him.

“Now we're here, with my future baby mama killing it on stage, and you’re sucking all the energy out of the room.”

He would be SO down bad for Santi.

His face turns serious as he explains, “It’s like surfing. We all want that wave that’s just out of reach. Especially if someone else is riding it.” “How did you get so wise?” You ask. “I don’t know. Must be all the weed,” he says with a hand on your shoulder, turning you toward the bar. “Let’s go get another drink.”

JELLLYYYY YOUR MIND. I'm literally losing it. He's so funny, perfect characterization for his character in a more modern setting. I'm obsessed.

“The content Stax puts out is directly under my approval, just like Metro and the Newsdesk and every other division.” His voice, which has been steady and even until now, begins to rise, “I’m not going to call you and ask for permission every time I make a decision. Eddie and I have kept in touch. How do you think we landed that interview with Radiohead last year when they wouldn’t even sit down with Rolling Stone?"

Big boss Steve is so fine I am chewing on glass.

.“But I'll tell you one more thing—you are going to write this story.” He waves a hand toward the bathroom. “Now, go wash your face.”

Don't yell at me, but also like...keep yelling at me.

He places a final tender kiss on your temple, his eyes closing as his features turn peaceful. But for you, even in this stillness, another song lingers in your mind, its lyrics echoing like a secret.

I know I'm not going to survive this. I already miss my music afficionado boyfriend. I already need him. I already love him. You can literally feel the slight pull reader has whenever she talks to him or is near him -- it's so buzzy. And even though she loves Steve there's such a SLIGHT -- SLIGHT disconnect that doesn't flow as well with him as it does with Eddie.

I am literally SO excited for the next chapter, I want to eat this story like a three course dinner.

Torn | Song 2 | Masterlist

Twelve years after Eddie Munson broke your heart for a life on the road with nothing but a mixtape as a goodbye, you finally feel like you have two feet on the ground. Engaged to Steve Harrington with the career of your dreams it feels like you’re going to have your happily ever after, but what happens when the boy that broke your heart comes back as a man with a revelation that changes everything?

TW: Femreader, Love🔺️, Smut, Mentions of DV, 18+ No minors WC:6558 beta'd by @superblysubpar

Plink.

Plink. Plink. Plink.

The old wooden frame of your window groans against the track, burdened with too many layers of paint to make the slide smooth. The swirls of creamy pinks and oranges have faded hours ago into the star-lit summer sky. The boy is below, standing in your backyard, fist full of pea gravel taken from a neighbor's garden. A smile twisting his lips lifts his cheeks, putting dimples on full display as he looks up at you from the darkness below. You raise a finger, signaling for him to wait before you turn away. Tossing a few things in your empty backpack, you take a pillow from your bed, and your comforter is wrestled free from the mattress. With careful footsteps, you creep down the stairs, stopping in the kitchen. The light from the fridge casts a triangle across the floor as you take a few Capri Suns to add to your bag. Leaving through the slider, the end of your blanket trails behind you through the grass that was trimmed that morning. You slip off your flip-flops, leaving them beside a pair of larger, well-worn sneakers with a chain wallet tucked inside the right shoe. Eddie bounces on the trampoline, his sock-covered feet launching him into the air, arms stretched for balance. You toss everything on before climbing on with him. With a final bounce, he lands on his butt beside you, grinning.

“I got it,” you tell him, tossing the pillow behind you.

“Nah-uh.”

"My dad took me to Tower this afternoon." Rummaging in your pack, you pull out a Discman and over-the-ear headphones with the cord in a tangled mess. "I could only get two. I had to choose between Rage," you begin, ticking off album titles on your fingers, “Soundgarden, STP, and Pearl Jam.”

“And?”

Taking out the CDs, you press them against his chest, letting go as soon as his fingers go around them. His brown eyes widen as he examines what’s in his hands as you pick apart the knotted cord.

“Songs from the Vatican Gift Shop AND Down on the Upside? You haven’t even opened this one.” He holds up the Soundgarden CD before using his teeth to rip open the cellophane covering the plastic case.

“I waited for you.” You smile.

His face softens. “You’re a doll.”

He lies back, his head nestling into your pillow, hands clasped behind his head, gazing up at the sky. After putting the CD into the player, you follow him, pulling the comforter over you both and resting your head on his bicep. The headphone speakers are flipped out, tucked between you, as Chris Cornell's melancholic voice begins to seep into your ears, velvety and dark like the night itself.

"Listen to this transition," he insists, his voice filled with the same awe that it always does when he talks about music, "The shift from acoustic to electric guitar is seamless."

“I wish I could hear it the way you do.”

As you gaze skyward, a slender branch sways in perfect rhythm with the chords, green leaves fluttering with the bass. The stars multiply and shimmer as if they’re caught up in the flow of the song.

“You do,” he says, his head turning toward you, “You’re the only one I know who loves it as much as I do.” He studies your face, his eyes locking with yours. The music building until it’s too intense, and he looks away. “It’s lyrics that hook you. You’ve always got so many words floating around in that big brain of yours.”

The disc spins, and you both listen, the scent of lilacs wafting in on the breeze, and fireflies painting the sky with their gentle glow. Time passes in the slow way it only does for kids on a cool summer night.

“Eddie?”

“Hmm?” He answers, eyes closed.

“Are they fighting again?”

He doesn’t talk about it, but everyone knows—an ugly secret festering on an otherwise picture-perfect street. No one wants to get their hands dirty by getting involved.

“Why won’t she leave him?” A simple question in a world of black and white.

“I want her to,” his adams apple bobs as he swallows, “She says she loves him.”

“Just stay here with me tonight, okay?” Rolling to your side, you wrap your hand across his chest, offering him the only protection that you can.

“Yeah, okay.”

When you wake the following morning, the songs and memories you were reacquainted with last night have faded to a dull throb–much like the martinis. But remnants of their lyrics persist, crawling under your skin, irritating like an itch, a tune hummed without the words to accompany it. Your phone’s screen lights up with an incoming text, the short burst of vibration sending it skittering across the surface of your nightstand. It takes a moment for your bleary eyes to focus on the notification on your lock screen.

Unknown: I admit last night could have gone better. Let me make it up to you. Coffee?

After tapping in your passcode, you open the message app to reply.

You: Wrong number

Darkening your screen, you let your phone slip from your hand onto the bed beside you. With a sigh, you lean back, staring at the ceiling, seeking answers that remain elusive. The scent of brewing dark roast and toasting bagels rises up the stairs with the sounds of Steve moving around the kitchen. A cup of coffee (or five) and a shower is what you need to wash away the past and leave it firmly where it belongs– in your rearview.

It's the bottom of your second cup when Steve into your massive walk-in closet with a towel wrapped around his waist, fresh from the shower, his hair still damp, the freckled skin of his chest looking golden in the soft glow of the elegant pendant lights.

“Is that what you're wearing to work?” He asks.

“Um, yeah.” You finish buckling the strap of your chunky mary-janes. “Something wrong with it?” you ask, catching sight of yourself in the mirror, dark distressed jeans and a band tee recut into a fitted v-neck.

“Of course not,” he sighs, running his hand through his hair before sitting down heavily on the leather bench. His shoulders slump as he looks across to the cherry built-in shelves holding the rows of tailored suits hung by progression of color. “You always look beautiful.”

Taking your watch from the marble top of the large center island, you wander over to where he’s seated. He hooks a finger into one of the large holes in your jeans, tugging you over to stand between his legs, his big hands wrapping around the backs of your thighs.

“Guess I’m just missing the days of wearing jeans and a jersey to work,” he says, his smile not smoothing the faint crease in his brows.

“You traded that in for a car service and a big fat paycheck,” you point out, kissing the top of his head and moving back to your side of the closet to select a blazer.

“How else am I going to keep spoiling you?” He stands, dropping the towel and picking up the black Tom Ford boxer briefs he set out before his shower.

“Steve, I don’t need all of this,” your hand sweeps in the air, gesturing to the lit shelves holding more clothes and shoes than you could ever need. “Just take me to a concert every once in a while.” Your voice trails off as notification chimes on your phone.

Unknown: Nice try, doll. Robin gave me your number.

“Can you imagine if we were still in that cramped apartment in Lincoln Park?” He scoffs, pulling on a light gray pair of suit pants. “We were tripping over all our stuff.”

Steve found the three-bedroom, three-bath brownstone on a tree-lined street in the ritzy Gold Coast neighborhood just after he got promoted from Metro, marking the beginning of his rise up the ranks in Second City Media. He spent a year and a chunk of his trust fund on a meticulous renovation before the two of you moved in. It is beautiful—large air rooms with lofty ceilings adorned with pristine white crown molding and wainscotting throughout, giving a modern but classic feel. Living with so much space is lavish in a city of this size. But you would be just as happy back on that ratty couch in Lincoln Park, drinking beer straight from the bottle and eating pizza without the fuss of plates, working on your laptop while he watched a Cubs game. Steve is driven–determined to be a success, and he is, but with the money came the stress. And it’s taking a toll.

Your finger hovers over the block button, but you press add to contacts instead. “Hey,” you change the subject, slipping your phone into your jacket pocket, “Did you ever look into that sailing charter you wanted to book out at the lake? We could do that this weekend?”

“I wish I could, Ace. I’ve got those weekend meetings about the streaming radio we're trying to launch. Pick out a tie for me?” He asks, pulling off a starched black button-up from its hanger.

“Sure.” You walk over and spin the rack holding up dozens of ties on shiny brass hooks.

“What do you have going on today?” The well-defined muscles of his sculpted shoulders, earned from never skipping a day at the gym, flex before disappearing into his shirt sleeves.

“Not a lot.” You pull the silky slip of deep maroon fabric off its hanger. “Lola is put to bed for this year. I just have an album review to finish up and a meeting with my editor today. Maybe a series on the Fall tours?” You propose, mostly to yourself, as you bring him his tie.

“Maroon, huh?” One brow raises with the question, “I would have picked black.”

“I know.” The corner of your lips turn up in a sly smile before you rise to your toes and place a kiss on his mouth, “I’m gonna go.”

“You want my driver to drop you off?” He asks, looking in the mirror and adjusting his tie.

“Nah, I’ll drive myself. Argyle and I are going to the Subterranean for drinks. Santigold is performing. Do you want to come?” You throw out, picking up your ancient army green messenger bag you can’t bear to part with, straining with the fullness of your laptop and notes.

“I’ll pass. Not really my scene.” As he fastens his gold cufflinks, they catch the gleaming light.

“You never come to shows with me,” you sigh.

“I know, I know. I’ll try and catch the next one,” he says, sliding his feet into shiny Italian leather shoes. “I’m meeting Robin for lunch. You want to join us?”

“No. I’ll let you have your girl time.” You blow him a kiss before heading out the door.

“See you tonight, okay?”

“Love you. See you tonight,” he calls after you.

Passing through rooms decorated with rich creams and calming moss greens, you yell over your shoulder, “Tell Robin I said we don’t have any more room for paintings of flowers that look like vaginas.”

“They’re a good investment,” his voice fades as you jog down your stairs, grabbing your keys from the stained-glass bowl on the table beside the door, ignoring the buzz coming from your pocket.

The world is full of cliches. Many become so ingrained that we accept them as unwavering truths. Every cloud has a silver lining. Don’t judge a book by its cover. Actions speak louder than words. A rotten apple will spoil the bunch. Don’t spit into the wind. Well, that last one is just good advice, but there is one that has stuck with you. Love what you do, and you’ll never work a day in your life. Music is your deity, and working at Stax is where you worship at its altar, spreading the Gospel of John, Paul, George, and Ringo. It’s a place where your lifelong obsession is not only validated, it’s celebrated. Your journey leading up to this point feels like destiny, like the universe conspired to harmonize your two greatest loves—the lyrical power of words and the soul-stirring magic of music. Each day within these walls is a new chord, a different tempo, and you revel in the ever-changing rhythm of your life. One spent intertwined with the music and the people that create it. The magazine's pages are your stage, your canvas, and with every keystroke, you paint the stories of the music, offering them to those who care to listen.

Without taking your eyes off your laptop screen, you reach for your coffee mug only to knock over the tittering tower of CDs that you had stacked on the corner of your cluttered desk. The plastic jewel cases meet the cement floor with a shattering crash, the noise echoing off the walls of the open industrial space that houses the offices for Stax Magazine in the heart of Fulton Market District. Clapping comes from other desks as you chase the discs rolling on their sides in all directions. Pausing, you bend into a dramatic curtsey, earning chuckles as the applause dies out. The perpetual chaos of your desk has become an ongoing punchline in the office banter. Your phone begins to ring at the same time an IM pops on your screen - both from your editor, the enigmatic J. Hopper.

“Art Garfunkel’s house of pizza,” you say by way of greeting, trying to get the CDs back in their cases and toppling a pile of mail in the process.

“Where are you? Why aren’t you here? We had a meeting at 2,” comes the gruff voice of a man who's clearly not amused.

“It’s only one forty,” you reply.

“Get your ass in here now,” he yells, disconnecting.

Hopper's bark has always been more bluster than bite. The towering, older man has been a fixture in this building since its days as a "hard-hitting" newspaper. While the city has evolved and transformed, Hopper and this old brick building have remained resolute, like an immovable rock in the ever-shifting stream of time. He possesses zero patience, holds a disdain for people, and dismisses any music created after 1978. You love him as much as your own father. He offered you a position fresh out of college when other magazines wouldn’t take a chance. He's pulled out your best work, often sending you back to your desk like a pouting child, making you the writer you are today. The wisdom he’s imparted is beyond the reach of any professor or workshop, and for that, you’ll always be grateful.

With a gentle rap of your knuckles against the frosted glass, you step into Hopper's office. He's seated behind a substantial oak desk, buried beneath a mountain of paperwork. A hint of cigar lingers in the air, though you've never been able to catch him smoking. He remains engrossed, squinting at his desktop screen with a furrowed brow. Settling into one of the vintage leather club chairs, you wait for his acknowledgment, your gaze drifting across the framed magazine covers and photographs lining the walls. One of a much younger Hopper clad in a tattered flak jacket catches your eyes. His face smeared with dirt and grit, standing amidst the ruins of a war-torn Kosovo street, a city reduced to chaos.

"Where’s my album write-up?" He asks without looking up.

"I emailed it to you before lunch," you reply, confirming on your phone.

He pushes back from his desk, propping up his feet on the edge, and offers you a soft smile from under the bushy mustache covering his lip, "How are you, kid? Everything okay? Harrington treating you, right?"

"Of course, Hop. He knows he'd have to answer to you otherwise. What about you?" You ask, leaning forward, "Is Joyce looking after you? Making sure you're watching that cholesterol?"

"Yup, she's got me eating all these organic vegetables, no booze, no smokes. Kinda takes all the fun outta life." He laces his hands behind his head, stretching out his back.

"Oh yeah, does that include that bottle hootch you got stowed in your bottom drawer?"

He sits up with a quick move, pointing his finger in your direction. "You don't know anything about that. Are we clear?"

The only one who can scare Hopper is Hopper's wife.

"I don't know. What are you going to do if I give Joyce a call? Seems to me that's something she'd want to know," you tease, crossing your arms over your chest.

"You'd be out on that sidewalk before you hung up the call. Don't test me." He shakes a finger at you, "Now, what are you pitching me?"

"Well, I'm going to a club tonight, so I'll have a live performance review. And I was thinking of a piece on the bands touring this Fall. Kind of like a road map that the readership could follow and hit all the good shows."

"Those sound good, kid, but I got a feature for you to cover." He leans forward, narrowing his eyes, "You know this Eddie Munson character?"

The blood drains from your face. "No. Not-not really," you stammer, "we're from the same town, but I haven't seen him in years."

"Well, it's time to get reacquainted. I want a series chronicling the opening of CursedSound Recordings, and I want you to write it."

A featured series is something that other journalists fight over, and usually, you'd jump at the chance, but not this time. Not this series. Not Eddie Muson.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you say, looking down at your lap.

“You don’t think–”

“Give it to Miles.”

“I’m giving it to you. Morales is busy with–”

“I don’t want it,” the words burst out of your mouth before you think better of it. Less than twenty-four hours after seeing Eddie, your world is spinning out of control.

Hopper's face turns to steel as he plucks the pen from behind his ear and throws it down on the desk. “I think that you’ve forgotten how this works. I give you an assignment. You write it.”

Your lips part before the protest in your brain is fully formed.

“If you’re about to tell me no again, it better be followed by a damn good reason.”

His eyes are locked on yours while he waits for a response, one brow raised in challenge.

“Listen, kid,” he picks up a stack of papers, shuffling through them as he talks, “I’ve looked into this Munson character. He has a good reputation in L.A. His name is in the credits for over half the multi-platinum releases in the last five years. And word is, his studio is booked out with big names for a year in advance.” He pauses for a moment to be sure his words sink in. “Establishing a good relationship with him is in the magazine's best interests. And what's good for the magazine is good for you. Are you hearing me?”

“Yes, Hop,” he answers for you when you remain quiet.

“Yes, Hop,” you repeat.

“Good,” he says, lacing his fingers together. "The printed word isn’t worth what it used to be. Everything's gone digital, the never-ending twenty-four-hour news cycle. The competition's cut-throat out there. Trust me, our friends over at Spectrum would eat this up for Chicago Lifestyles. Frankly, I’m surprised at you. I thought you’d be all over this. Especially since it was proposed by corporate. I figured you went around me and pitched it to Harrington directly.”

“I would never do that,” you shake your head.

"Alright then. Call Byers at Metro," Hopper instructs, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms across his chest. "Bring him with you. His assignment is just wrapping up."

You nod, your blood boiling and your mind racing. Taking a deep breath to compose yourself, you finally reply with an outward calm, "Okay."

Hopper's eyes remained fixed on you, his brow furrowing slightly. "Now, why are you still here wasting my time? Get out."

You don’t need any more prompting. Swiftly, you rise from your seat and make your way out of Hopper's office, formulating plans to murder your fiancé.

With a heavy sigh, you sit back down at your desk. The Stax logo bounces off the edges of your laptop screen. Your phone lights up with a photo of Steve. You let it ring a few times before sending it to voicemail. A few colleagues linger nearby, mugs in hand, their idle chatter blending with the hum of printers and the rhythmic clacking of keyboards. Your to-do list sits on your desk with strike-throughs on only half the tasks, but the priority of the ones remaining isn’t enough to capture your attention.

Reaching down, you tug at the handle of your tightly packed bottom desk drawer. It sticks, protesting the overload. The bright yellow color of the Sony Sports Walkman stands out from among the other clutter. You hesitate when reaching for it, the beginnings of the ache already tightening your chest. But you can’t resist, your hand closes around it, pulling it and the headphones coiled around out from under a pile of old concert passes attached to lanyards.

Swiveling your chair away from the desk, you face the windows and slip the headphones onto your ears. A gentle press of your thumb produces a satisfying click, and a soft crackling sound fills your ears as the capstans start to whir.

The crystal blue of the cassette is dulled behind the transparent black window, but you can still make out the handwriting on the yellowed label.

For when you miss me.

“Did you ever listen?”

Everyday.

A bird's eye view of the stage is perfectly spaced in your viewfinder, with Santi downstage dominating the mic, her other arm outstretched to the fervent crowd. Your finger clicks the shutter as a text pops on the screen.

Eddie: Seems this city isn’t so big after all.

With a huff, you close the screen, pocketing your phone.

“What’s going on with you?” Argyle shouts over the crowd, handing you back your drink as you both lean over the black-painted railing on the balcony at The Subterranean.

"Nothing," you reply, your gaze returning to the stage where Santigold is Chasing Shadows.

“You’re moody,” he accuses, leaning closer to your ear to be heard over music.

“No, I’m not.”

“It’s true,” he shakes his head. “You’re moody. Moody dick.”

The corners of your lips lift as you roll your eyes.

“This wouldn't have anything to do with mister dark and handsome sound engineer guy from last night, would it?” He probes as someone bumps into you from behind, throwing you off balance.

Your eyes narrow as he steadies you with a hand on your elbow.

“Hey, I know things,” he says, sipping his drink and looking back out over the crowd.

“Oh, yeah?” You ask, turning and leaning on the banister to face him, “What do you know?”

He turns his head toward you, his thoughtful brown eyes connecting with yours. “I know you looked freaked the fuck out when he showed up for drinks and even more so when he said he was staying. And I’ve seen you tell off enough people to know that’s what was going on at the bar when you walked away from him last night,” he says, looking back toward the stage, gesturing with his hands, “Now we're here, with my future baby mama killing it on stage, and you’re sucking all the energy out of the room.”

The song ends with the crowd erupting in applause. “I love you!” Argyle shouts toward the stage with his hands cupped around his mouth as the bass starts back up with the opening of High Priestess. Santi looks up, throwing him a wink, her voice low and fast as the reverb vibrates under your feet.

“Future baby mama?” You laugh.

“Yeah. Do you think you could use your press pass to get us backstage?”

“No. I don’t think you need to add to the population tonight.”

"See, you're no fun,” he complains, sticking out his lower lip, “So you really used to crush on that guy?

Chewing on your lip, you throw him a sideways glance.

“Yeah, you did. You crushed hard,” he laughs, “So, tell me, what happened?”

“I don’t like talking about it,” you say, scrubbing your face.

“Keeping everything all bottled up ain’t good for you, little mama,” he pokes your arm, letting you know he’s not going to drop this, “I’m your boy. If you can’t tell me, who can you tell?”

“Circle of trust,” he says, stirring the air between you with two fingers when you don’t respond.

You lean against the rail, considering. “Alright, but this stays between us,” you threaten him with a pointed finger. His head nods as his fingers slide across his mouth like a zipper.

“There’s not much to tell,” you say, looking down at the sticky floor. “I had a crush, and he didn’t feel the same way.”

“I get it. The fury of a woman scorned. What did you do, go full bunny boiler?”

“No,” you chuckle, “Nothing like that. That part didn’t even really bother me. He was my best friend, my only friend for a long time. I thought there was something between us, that he cared about me. Maybe not the same way I cared about him, but you know, I thought we were close. I must have built it all up in my head because one day, he just takes off.” You swallow the sharp pain pressing into your chest, “He never even said goodbye.”

“Nooo,” Argyle’s eyes widen.

“It broke me,” you admit.

“Harsh,” he agrees, “And he never called you? Or gave you an explanation?”

“Not until yesterday. He asked me to lunch. You know, he actually had the nerve to say that Steve has me on a tight leash.”

“Typical.” He shakes his head, swallowing the last of his drink.

“What do you mean?” You ask, swirling the last of your ice into your watered-down drink.

His face turns serious as he explains, “It’s like surfing. We all want that wave that’s just out of reach. Especially if someone else is riding it.”

“How did you get so wise?” You ask.

“I don’t know. Must be all the weed,” he says with a hand on your shoulder, turning you toward the bar. “Let’s go get another drink.”

“You never told Steve any of this?” He asks as you join the crowd of people that constitutes the line.

“No,” you sigh.

“No?” He repeats in surprise, “This is bad news, man. Why wouldn’t you tell him? What are you going to do, just going to keep it a secret forever?”

“I guess. It doesn’t really have anything to do with him.”

“This is going to get messy.” He shakes his head as you move up in line.

“Well, I’m not real happy with him either right now. He went behind my back to Hopper, deciding that I’m going to cover Eddie’s recording studio's opening. He completely humiliated me in front of my boss. I look totally unprofessional.”

“Well, that's not cool,” Argyle sympathizes as he takes the plastic cup from your hand and tosses it into a trashcan tucked beside the bar.

“No, it was very not cool,” you agree, crossing your arms over your chest.

"Wait," he looks at you with sudden revelation, “Technically, isn't Steve your boss?"

“That’s not the point–”

“And isn’t your job to write about major happenings in the city, like when fancy L.A. sound guys open up studios?”

“You're not helping, Argyle.”

His hand lands on your head, offering a comforting pat like you're a child before the line begins moving again. "Cheer up, Bernstein," he quips with a grin, "I'll buy the next round."

Your anger hasn’t abated when you walk through the front door of the brownstone. Steve is already in bed, shirtless with the taupe velvet coverlet pulled up to his waist, glasses perched on his nose, not looking up from his laptop as you enter the room.

“Hey, Ace, how was your day? Did you write me–”

“Anything you want to tell me about, Steve?” You ask, your voice already coming out more heated than you intended.

He looks up at you, brows pulling together. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” you say, dropping your bag onto the blue slipper chair in the corner of the room, “Maybe about how you went behind my back?”

"What?” He questions, slamming his laptop shut.

“The story, Steve,” you huff, leaving the room through your closet. You’ve just put your shoes away when he appears in the doorway, padding across the carpet in his bare feet, wearing just his boxers.

“Munson’s opening, that’s what you’re mad about?” He demands.

“You totally blindsided me,” you complain, pulling a hanger off the rod and hanging up your blazer with enough force to have the other clothes swinging. “Why didn’t you say anything this morning?”

“Because I hadn’t thought of it this morning.” His hands run through his hair, tugging in frustration.

“So what, it just came to you in a flash of brilliance?” Popping the button on your jeans, you tug them down your hips, kicking them into the corner instead of putting them in the basket.

“No, it didn’t, and I hate it when you’re sarcastic. Robin wanted to stop by and see his studio. We had lunch nearby,” he informs you, crossing his arms over his broad chest, the gold chain he wears glinting in the low light.

“So the two of you just decided what I was going to be writing? Maybe that’s something you should be discussing with me.” You lay a hand on your chest before pulling your shirt over your head and giving it the same treatment as your jeans. “You know, your fiancée, not some old buddy that sold you weed a few times back in Hawkins.”

“That’s another thing you kept from me. I had no idea Eddie was your best friend.” Your eyes narrow as your fingers yank at the delicate clasps of your jewelry and watch.

Steve's eyes roll in frustration as he shakes his head. "He's not my best friend. He’s a business contact. I know him through Robin. They were is band together, you know this."

"That feels like a lifetime ago, Steve," you remark, the clinking of your jewelry against the marble island adding a discordant scrape.

"Well, some people aren't embarrassed about where they came from," he accuses.

"I'm not embarrassed," you scoff and begin to pace as if you can outrun his words.

"Oh, please," he says, taking a seat on the bench, his knuckles turning white as he grips the edge, his gaze tracking your restless movements. "You cut off anybody we still know living there. You won't even go to visit your parents. They always come here."

“You never listen to what I’m saying. This has nothing to do with Hawkins or my parents.” You halt your steps, your hand slices through the air, punctuating your statements. “It's about you making me look like a fool in front of Hopper. Like I’m trying to go around him to corporate to get assigned the big stories. Like I’m sleeping with the boss. I’m not ruining my reputation so you can give free advertising to your friends.”

“You're being crazy right now,” he yells, wincing with regret as soon as the words leave his mouth. He stands, moving closer, making an effort to control the tone of his voice, “I gave you this assignment because you know Eddie, and it will make for a better story, not because I’m fucking you. We’ve been together since the day you started at Stax. We’ve been engaged for two years. If anyone was going to think that, they already would’ve.”

Your head shakes, rejecting his rationale. He throws up his hands in frustration. “I can't have a conversation with you when you’re like this.” He starts to walk back toward the bedroom but stops abruptly, spinning on his heel and pointing his finger in your direction. “But I'll tell you one more thing—you are going to write this story.” He waves a hand toward the bathroom. “Now, go wash your face.”

Your teeth cut into your bottom lip as you walk into the bathroom, slamming the door behind you.

A sliver of gold from the streetlights outside pierces the tiny gap in the curtains. You’ve been lying on your side staring so long that you can see its warm hue behind closed lids whenever you start to drift. You burrow your arm deeper beneath your pillows while your feet shuffle, searching for a cool spot on the sheets. Steve’s breathing hasn’t changed behind you. He’s having the same trouble falling asleep. He turns over, his weight rocking the mattress. He’s much closer now. You can feel the comforting warmth from his chest, filling the space between him and your back.

“Baby.” His breath caresses the spot just behind your ear before the wet press of his lips traces a path along your neck, latching on to the apex when it meets your shoulder. A gentle bite follows the swirl of his tongue as he moves even closer. The rough pads of his fingers glide over your shoulder and down your arm, coaxing the thin strap of your tank with them.

“Please,” he whispers between kisses, his fingers finding their way under the bottom edge of your tank top, the light scrape of his blunt nails against your ribs sending shivers across your skin. Your breathing is picking up, the fire from your argument morphing into a new kind of heat. His hips flex against your ass, his cock hard and ready. When you turn your head, his lips are there, a wet slide over your mouth until they pull back, floating just above you, lingering with a question. And when his hand cups your shoulder, urging your body to turn towards him-–you answer.

The sultry feminine voice drifts from the speakers in your bedroom, her smoky timber weaving through the air like dark tendrils intertwining with the high piano notes. Your hips rise with the flow, a slow, unchanging cadence, the stretch of his cock creating delicious friction against your velvet walls. You move higher until he almost leaves you before you start your descent, the angle finding all the hidden places that light you up beneath your skin.

"M' sorry," he murmurs.

Your eyes flutter open at his words as they carry you away from the depths.

"Hate telling you no." He gazes up at you with heavy-lidded eyes, his hair pushed back from his face, and a flush across his skin.

"I don't wanna talk about it." Your hands cover the ones wrapped around your thighs, guiding them up your body. His warm, rough fingers are eager to map out every contour. Your head falls back when they find their destination, cupping your breasts with a possessive grip.

The song shifts, the new baseline a drawn-out pulse lining up with your movements. The lyrics are raw and a little filthy, fueling the urgency of your rolling hips, your clit grazing the short hairs at his base.

"Don't like telling you what to do," he mumbles even as his hands drop to your hips, attempting to hold you still as he bucks up from underneath. "Just wanna take care of you."

"Steve," his name passes your lips in a low moan as you lean forward, taking his hand from your hips and pressing them into the pillow, "Stop talking."

Sitting up, you shift your position, leaning back, bracing your hands behind yourself on his hairy thighs. You set a new pace, bouncing harder, driving him deeper, taking what you want.

“Jesus, fuck, baby,” he groans, eyes hitting the back of his head while his hands slide across the sheets seeking any purchase as you ride him. The music surges, its tempo rising in perfect sync with the wet intimate sounds of your bodies coming together, the rhythm repeating over and over.

"So close…please," his fingers slip between you, adding pressure to the sensitive bundle of nerves that he finds there, "Need you to cum."

"No," you rasp out breathless, pushing his hand aside, your eyes locked on his as you bring your own fingers to your mouth. With a swirl of your tongue, you coat them with wetness before sliding them down to touch yourself, controlling your own pleasure.

The muscles in his neck strain with effort, his gaze darkening, fixated on you. “Goddam, so sexy like this,” he murmurs.

Your body tightens, taut like a bow-string, the tension building until the crescendo crashes over you. The music washes over your senses as you reach your peak, your legs trembling with the intensity. You push your body further over the edge, succumbing to the euphoria lost in the wave of sensations.

Floating back down, your eyes open to the sight of your ceiling, your body still arched, catching your breath. His fingers tighten on your ribs, reminding you he's there. Sticky wetness dripping between you is evidence that he reached his own climax. His hands gently urge your forward to collapse into his chest.

"Wow, that was…" He strokes the sweat-slicked skin of your back. "I’ve never seen you like that before. What got into you?"

"I think you did," you say, placing a kiss over his heart as your fingers smooth through the hair covering his chest. He chuckles, holding you closer.

The gentle croon of the music fills the quiet space between you as you lie entwined, drawing closer to sleep's embrace. With a fumbling hand, Steve reaches for the remote on his nightstand, silencing the stereo, returning the room to a restful hush. He places a final tender kiss on your temple, his eyes closing as his features turn peaceful. But for you, even in this stillness, another song lingers in your mind, its lyrics echoing like a secret.

For updates follow @tornupdates & turn on the notifications

AN: Thank you for reading and rebloging. Your comments are what keep me at my keyboard plugging away at this story. Please keep sending me your songs and asks! They have inspired so much of what's to come. xoxo- Jelly

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schizoscribbles · 2 years ago

Text

Detective to the Rescue!

SCHIZOSCRIBBLES

𝙵𝙴𝙼 𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙳𝙴𝚁 𝙳𝙽𝙸

TW/CW: N/A

KEY: [N] = First Name [LN] = Last Name

[One-sided Enemies][to lovers][workplace romance]

NOT PROOFREAD

"It's like he's trying to make me scream at him!"

[N] said, his trenchcoat flailing about as he paced inside of Miles Edgeworth's office. The poor prosecutor simply sat there, fist holding his head up while he simply dozed; half listening to [N]. "I mean, I don't get it! How could he just constantly be a..." [N] looked at his hands, angry "A..." he got fed up and slammed his hands down on Miles' desk, rage flaring in his eyes "Nuisance!"

Miles jumped before he sighed, "Do you mind telling me why you're so furious with Detective Gumshoe, Mr. [LN]? Or are you simply going to scream and rant all day about nothing." the sarcasm dripping from his tone agitated [N] but he groaned and nodded "Sorry, Miles." and so, [N] sat on Edgeworth's desk and began recounting what had happened-

---------------

December 23

3:00 PM

Detective [N] [LN]'s Office

---------------

A knock came at Detective [LN]'s door, he gritted his teeth as he grunted a "Come in.".

"Heya, Mr [LN]!" Gumshoe grinned happily not fully aware of [N]'s bad mood; just mere moments ago he was informed of Gumshoe's malpractice in a recent case that involved Mr. Pheonix Wright, which could have costed both of them their jobs, and he wasn't happy.

"Dick Gumshoe." [N] snarls, watching Gumshoe take his seat. "You wanted ta' see me?" the stupid grin that Gumshoe held in response to seeing [N] never left his face as he waited eagerly for the reason he sat in [N]'s office. [N] cleared his throat, "I was recently informed of a recent case." he glared daggers at Gumshoe who was still oblivious, "Which one?" "The one where the main suspects defense attourney was Mr. Pheonix Wright. The recent medical malpractice case." Gumshoe thought for a minute before his face dropped and his mouth made an O as he realized. Gumshoe scratched the back of his neck as he spoke up, "Listen, pal I'm so-" "I don't want to hear it, Dick." [N] snapped a bit, "This incident could have cost us our jobs! And you're just a bumbling mess as is." Gumshoe's face scrunched in a pained expression before he stood up and hung his head, "I'm sorry, [N]." and so, he left.

---------------

December 23

5:00 PM

Chief Prosecutor's Office

---------------

"Are you dense, [LN]?" Miles asked, [N] jumped a bit.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, turning to face his best friend.

"Do I need to spell it out for you?" Miles got up and walked around to [N], [N]'s head swiveling to meet him. Miles sighed and smacked the back of their head("OW WHAT THE FUCK!" being heard under the detectives breath).

"He's in love with you, genius." [N] rubbed his head in pain with his face scrunched up before it all dropped and he blinked at Miles, "What?" "He's so utterly and madly in love with you in infuriating." Miles walked to grab his kettle off of his table.

"Honestly, he never shuts up about you." he said as he picked up a small tea cup and paused to pour tea in. Then he mocked Gumshoe, "He's so pretty! And amazing at his job! He's so understanding!" Miles made a dumb face before it dropped and [N] sat there dumbfounded.

"Well?" Miles said, [N] snapped his attention back toward Miles. "What?" "Go apologize." Miles said seriously, [N] blinked a bit, "Okay."

---------------

December 23

6:30 PM

Outside of The Police Department

---------------

[N] sighed, he had looked for Gumshoe everywhere and he was nowhere to be found. He looked forward under the awning, rain pouring down from the sky.

"Goddamnit." [N] said angrily, he had no umbrella and he walked here from the prosecutor's office so he couldn't just run to a car. He pinched the bridge of his nose and huffed before he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Heya, pal." [N] opened his eyes and shot his attention to the voice, it was Gumshoe. "Oh, there you are."

"Chief said ya' were lookin' for me." [N] put his hands on his upper-arms and sighed, "Yes, I was." Gumshoe chuckled at the somewhat flustered man before he handed him an umbrella, [N] looked at it before looking back at Gumshoe.

"I know it doesn't make up for what I did but I really care about ya' and I don't want ya' getting si-" Gumshoe was interupted by [N] smashing his lips onto Gumshoe's. The kiss lasted a bit before [N] pulled away, "I'm so sorry, Gumshoe." Gumshoe smiled, "It's okay, pal." they both paused.

"So does this mean ya' like me too?..."

"Yes, Gumshoe."

"Are we gonna be boyfriends now?"

"Yes, Gumshoe."

---

;OK wow that took me a while, jesus.

#Spotify #hes so silly #dick gumshoe #detective gumshoe #detective dick gumshoe #detective gumshoe x reader #dick gumshoe x reader #ace attourney #x reader #x male reader #detectives #workplace romance #enemies to lovers #one sided enemies #ace attourney fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction

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damonjuicyscock · 3 years ago

Text

The New singer-Chapter 1

Pairing: Dilf! Damon Albarn X Reader

Warnings: Language, maybe a few spelling mistakes (but as always, I hope not)

Words: 3094

A/N: Hello ! Here I am with this new fanfic with Dilf Damon ! Hope you'll like it. Smut will come sooner in this fan fic (On the fourth one). Enjoy !

My name is Y/N Y/L/N, I moved in London in 2012 when I was 18 to try to finally start a career in what has always been my passion: Music. I think I probably started singing when I was still in my father’s balls, because as far as I know, even my close friends always knew me singing. I was even singing so much that sometimes, people had to tell me to shut up. My parents were born in the 60’s and 70’s, respectively from hippie parents, and themselves became hippies. That’s why I was raised listening to some Jefferson airplane, The Doors, The Beatles, The Rolling Stones, Janis Joplin, Jimi Hendrix… But also with music like Depeche Mode, Duran Duran, Tears For Fears, Oasis, Blur, Radiohead, Nirvana… Anyway, I was raised listening to some good stuff

Before telling how it all began, let’s talk about my absolutely not normal parents, who created who I am today. When they met in 1991, my mum was in total New Wave emo mode. Ya know, like Robert Smith from The Cure? Well, nearly the same haircut, with some new romantic clothes like in the early 80’s. My dad was kinda punk and tried to look like some 1986 Dave Gahan. Them and their music taste met, and boom, 2 years later, here I was. 5 years later, my sister joined us. A real troublemaker, but a very good dancer, that’s what she is. When I was 6, they enrolled me in a music conservatory. It was a pain in the ass. But I learned a lot, even how not to sound like a nowadays Mariah Carey who has a lot of voice issues when singing. Why? Because my singing teacher made me sing some opera, so I sound more like an Amy Lee from Evanescence who can sing everything except some hardcore metal. At 15, I said bye bye to the conservatory to focus on my studies without having to care about anything else. I kept practicing every day, alone. But I also started to learn to play guitar on my own after discovering a fabulous Muse song called “Knights Of Cydonia”. I loved rock and had the fashion style that came with it. I wasn’t a girl coming from the city, I grew up in a small town where not a lot of people knew about some singer or band… London was the cradle of New Wave, Glam rock, also some punks if you forget a minute about the US and Germany. London had great artists; it was worth trying my luck in here. And only after 2 years of hardworking and trying my luck in pubs and other, with my mic, my acoustic guitar and my electric guitar, I signed with Universal. Oh, I was going to forget about the most important part. I said previously that I was raised listening to some good stuff like Blur. Well, I’m a big fan, but also a Gorillaz fan and a Damon Albarn fan. This man is talented, has a really beautiful voice, he’s a model to me. I can’t deny the fact that yeah, he was and is still a lot attractive. And that’s in 2016 that I knew how much, when he tried to get in touch with me.

Late 2016:

My phone rang. It was my best friend and also manager Thomas.

-Oi Tom!

-Oi Y/N, are you available right now?

- Well, you woke me up, but yes, why?

- I have something really important to tell ya. Can you meet me at the Starbucks coffee near Carnaby Street please?

- Well now that I’m awake yeah, when?

- Well let’s count you and me taking the underground… let’s say an hour?

-It’s okay with me, see ya!

I hang up and went to put some clothes and makeup on, tying my hair in a simple braid before picking my sunglasses, my bag, and locking my front door before going.

But once outside, I saw someone taking a picture. Another fucking pap, trying to have his pictures of the day. I was acting funny with them at the beginning, making pouts to troll their pictures, but after nearly two years of them tracking me, I was starting to be fed up. So, at this very moment, I decided I couldn’t control my middle finger anymore, and imitated Chris Pratt in the Guardians of the galaxy, before putting a big smile on my face. Yeah, okay. I was still trolling them in a way.

I entered the underground station, going to the Oxford Circus station. From here, I walked to the Starbucks coffee in Great Marlborough Street. Tom wasn’t here yet. So to recap, this idiot calls me because he has something urgent to tell me, and doesn’t bother to be on time. I was even afraid I was the one to be late!

For your information, He arrived 43 minutes after.

-Oi lovely, sorry for being late. He said out of breath

-Oi sir let’s-meet-in-an-hour, traffic jam? Oh no, sorry, you took the train, What the fuck were you doing?

-Masturbating. He answered sarcastically

-Verry funny Tom. Well, I’m used to you being late anyway, you are even capable to be late for your own birthday party you dumb fuck.

-It was 13 years ago Y/N. I am an important man since I’m your manager.

-And it goes to your head. Isn’t it supposed for the artist to be the one who becomes big-headed?

-S’not like I’ve never been before…

-maybe, but it’s getting worse. I interrupted him

-ANYWAY!

-What’s so urgent then?

-There’s… some singer who contacted me because he’s interested on your music, and he would be glad to collaborate with you on a song. He would like for you to sing the backing vocals on it.

- Oh cool! Who is it?

-Damon Albarn.

I spat my tea back in the paper cup and coughed.

-WHAT?

-Yup, I knew you would react like this.

- Damon Fucking Albarn wants me to do the vocals on one of his songs?

-Actually, I don’t have a lot of details ‘bout that, he just called and left me his number.

- He called himself? Not his manager?

-No, Damon Albarn himself.

- Then I guess I have to do the same and call him back by myself like a grown-up girl.

-You sure?

- I have to.

-As you wish, But as I know you by heart, I know you’ll get really nervous.

He was definitely right, but it was like pouring oil on the flames, so my only reaction was to slap him on the shoulder.

-Shut up Tom!

He laughed

- I also knew you would do that. I’m leaving you his number then?

- Of course you do! I answered

- Okay. Oh also, before I forget, Glastonbury, Reading, Lollapalooza and Coachella wants you.

- What are the dates?

he took out his little notebook from his pocket

-Glastonbury from June 21st to the 26th, Reading August 25th to 27th, Lollapalooza July 22nd and 23rd, Coachella April 14thto 23rd.

- Say yes to all of them and negotiate with Coachella. They have to give me a date that is before April 20th.

-Why?

- I’m taking my dear mama on a trip to celebrate her birthday in Mauritius. Thought I already told ya.

-You did, I just forgot to take a note.

He handed me a little piece of paper

-Here’s Kellogg’s all-bran’s number

-Hey, respect him!

He laughed again

We finished drinking our tea, talking about the coming gigs, our lives, and also about me writing my new album.

Tom had been right. I was on a verge of a panic attack before calling him. This man was all I admired, he was one of my favourite artists and definitely my idol. He had accomplished a lot in nearly 30 years. And I was so honoured, but didn’t understand why he wanted me, the new singer, to collaborate with him. I would be really lucky to work with him. I decided to light myself a cigarette before pressing the call button.

-Hello? I heard a male voice say dryly

-Hello, is this mister Albarn?

-Huh, yes?

-Hello… I’m…I’m Y/N Y/L/N, you called my manager Thomas. He… He said you wanted to get in touch with me?

His tone changed to a happy one

- Oh hi Y/N! How are you? Yes, I called your manager. Listen, I'd really like to work with you on a song for the upcoming Gorillaz album, you have a lot of talent, and after listening to your songs, I knew you would be perfect for a song.

- It would be a great pleasure to work with you! When do you want us to meet? I asked

- When are you free?

- Tomorrow if it’s okay with you, my remaining gigs are only in two weeks, so I have a bit of time.

- You seem like a hard worker, I like it! I’ll be at the studio at 11 am, can you be there by 11:30?

- I’ll be there!

- Alright. I can’t wait to finally meet you! oh and please, bring your guitar.

- Huh which one? Electric or acoustic one?

- The acoustic one, we have plenty of electric ones at the studio, and you wrote the best songs with it.

- Okay. Huh, could you just give me the address please?

- Of course! I was going to forget about that. I have an old man’s brain. I’ll text it.

- Okay.

- See you tomorrow then Y/N.

- See ya!

He hang up first, and I jumped in joy around my living room, until I heard someone knock at the ceiling. Fuck, I forgot I had neighbours. I decided to call Thomas.

-Did you call him? he said when answering

- I did, we meet tomorrow, I’m just waiting for him to send the address now.

- Well count at least 10 minutes before receiving it, he has a Nokia 3310.

- Stop mocking him mate! I know he doesn’t really like technology and he’s far from being wrong! Apart to work, I don’t have a lot of technological stuff myself.

-Said the one who’s addicted to social medias.

-I’m not addicted! it’s part of my work.

- Never mind, I’m happy you can meet him this quick. Oh I also called Coachella, you’ll be on stage on the 16th at 7pm.

The next day, I was on my way to the studio, but I was stopped a few times by fans who wanted to take a picture with me or for an autograph. Happily, I left early to arrive early. When I finally arrived at my destination, I was welcomed by Jamie Hewlett himself.

-Hello young lady. I suppose you are Y/N?

- I am. Mister Hewlett. Nice to meet you, I adore your work.

- Thank you miss. And call me Jamie, you’re my co-worker now. Damon is waiting for you in the other room. We’ll see each other during lunch.

-Alright, thank you co-worker, see you during lunch!

I took a deep breath before entering in the other room and I saw him. Last time I truly saw him was during a live near my place and I was only 5 years old. Yeah, my parents took me to a Blur gig in 1999, and my mum was a lot pregnant with my sister. But even if I was this young, I knew their songs by heart and had one of the best times of my life. Not every parent would do that.

- Hello… I said shyly

- Ah here she finally is! I was impatient to finally meet you Y/N! He said turning to look at me

He came towards me and went to hug me. I was a bit surprised; I didn’t expect that. But it was his way to welcome people. A pure sweetheart. I also had been told he was a simple and humble man.

- I was impatient to meet you too mister Albarn!

- Oi, there’s not mister Albarn with me love, call me Damon.

- Okay Damon. I wouldn’t like for you to think I talk too much but I feel it’s important for me to say that you are one of my favourite artists and inspirations, and that I’ve been dreaming of this collab since…well…forever. I said, with an embarrassed smile

- I’m glad to have such a meaning for you. Oh, you brought the instrument that creates such beautiful songs!

- Yup, here it is

I pulled my guitar out of its case.

- It’s a beautiful Fender you have here. Can I try it? he asked

I handed him the guitar

- Be careful, it’s my baby. I joked

He looked at me and pretended he was about to let the guitar fall on the ground.

- No worries, it’s in safe hands. He answered winking at me

God, he was going to be the death of me.

He started playing one of my songs to test the sound my guitar had, and I blushed.

- Didn’t know you even knew my songs by heart! I chuckled slightly

- - I’m your number one fan! He answered

- Oh… sorry to disappoint you, but my mum actually is.

- I’m the number two then!

- That’s adorable. Okay… should we start working?

- Absolutely young lady! Before we start, would you like a cup of tea? or maybe a coffee?

- No thank you Damon, but it’s really nice of you to ask.

We worked for about an hour and a half on a melody, and when Damon heard me singing the vocals, he decided that finally, I would sing on the whole song. What started as a collab would end up as a duet. It would be a featuring. No sorry, I’d be singing with 2D, but it means the same thing to me.

Lunch came, an occasion to get to know everyone, even if I was the one who had been the most questioned.

- So, Y/N, tell us about you! Jamie said

- Well, what do you want to know?

- Where you grew up, our childhood, your love for music… this kind of stuff. He answered

- Oh! Well, I grew up at first in the south of France where my mum was working as a college teacher, she’s teaching ethology. So, it’s like I was a bit French. I speak the language fluently. We came back in England when I was about 5. On the second part of my childhood, I grew up in a town around Dover, So I was going back to France often. I even studied there in high school; I was in a high school in Calais. I have a French baccalaureate, with a music speciality.

- Interesting! you may have heard of my wife then! She’s a French actress. Jamie said

- Emma De Caunes? Of course, I only saw her in one movie, but the family who was hosting me during my high school years were often watching extracts of a formal TV show her father was in. It was really funny. I even saw the extract when she called him live to tell him she graduated from High school!

- What movie did you watch? Jamie asked

- Mr Bean’s Holiday. In this movie you can even see the city where I grew up in the first part of my childhood.

- Cannes? Damon asked

- Nope, Avignon. It’s sunny and beautiful when you are in the old town. People are really nice in there.

- And so, where does your love and talent for music comes from? Jeff, the guitarist asked

- As far as I can remember, I was three, and three songs made me fall in love with music. There’s Beetlebum by Blur, Stand By me by Oasis and Bittersweet symphony by The Verve. I grew up with parents who loved the new romantics era, New Wave and Britpop. I was singing a lot and my parents decided to send me to a music conservatory to take voice classes. It was their way to tell me “We like you when you sing, but you’re singing too much and you’re giving us a headache”. My singing teacher mainly taught me how to sing opera. But I can thank her today, because she is the one who gave me all the right techniques. After graduating from high school, I came in London to try my luck and here I am today. Also, my parents took me to a lot of gigs.

- Which ones? Damon asked

- My first one was Blur in 1999, then I got to see Tears for Fears, Oasis, Gorillaz, Depeche Mode, The Cure, New Order…There is actually a lot!

- Wow, that means you were like 5 when you saw us live with the guys?

- Yup. You sang a particular version of B.L.U.R.E.M.I.

- The danger of drugs. Jamie said

Damon threw him a dark look

- I was so little, but I can still remember I had one of the best times of my life!

- Well, I’m glad you did. Damon answered

- Who are your inspirations Y/N? Jamie asked

- As you can tell, I’m a lot into rock. I’d say many artists from different eras. Probably some David Bowie, Joan Jett, Blondie, The Clash, Oasis, Blur, Nirvana, The cure, The Smiths, U2, INXS… there’s so much. Oh, and also Queen. I’ve always been in love with Freddie Mercury’s voice.

- And you’ve probably been fancying Roger Taylor like every girl. Jamie added

I blushed

- I absolutely don’t know what you’re talking about.

Damon laughed seeing me blushing

- ‘S nothing love, we understand. He said

- I had the privilege to meet Brian May, he is really a nice man.

- And so… yesterday, you told me on the phone you had a few gigs left? Damon asked

- Yes, in Paris and here, in the U.K.

- Does it mean you’ll be back in the studio for some more masterpieces?

- I’ll be back in the studios yes. Don’t know yet if it’s going to be a masterpiece though. I have a few ideas, like a ballad, but here, I have no idea where to start.

- I can help you. Well only if you want to. The singer said

- Really? I said, sparks appearing in my eyes

- Of course! I’d love to! he answered

#damon albarn smut #damon albarn #damon albarn x reader #damon albarn fanfic #gorillaz #alex james #jamie hewlett #fanfics

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