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solipsisticworm · 5 months ago

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instrument tour / review [the string ones & Saxophone]

hi Welcome to Joey's String & Saxophone Guys . these are not all my instruments since i own 2 keyboards [only have One with me] but i'll do a Keyboard post later . also i do not play so much keyboard [write online] so . cannot review so well as these . Okay

[if want more information / review / sound / image / etc example on any instrument do let know & I will make another post with the stuff you want . love instruments so not a bother At all !]

THE OUD :

this is The Oud. i got it for $100 locally at a pawn shop Out of pure luck. i Do not know how much an oud like this is worth considering the maker card inside is in [what i Presume to be, since the oud i REALLY VERY THINK is arabic style] arabic & i Cannot read it nor get a picture to translate through the strings . google says similar ouds are Around $1300 . HOWEVER if you want to get / learn an oud & you are Far Away from a place they are made or common beginner ones online go for about $400-600. etsy has cheaper options also which I cannot attest for , but etsy are Less regulated on instruments in general so it may not be. the same . Again do not know

the oud Sounds very very good . am very biased because the Oud produces my favourite sounds out of any instrument but you know. using nylon strings on it currently Though it was bought with steel [rusted, unusable] & has capability to be strung with steel. Still sounds very good with nylon, can make ringing notes & very smooth sound. Cannot electric, though they do make electric ouds .

is very hard to hold & play when You have played typical american instruments all your life , but is not too bad to get Used to. fretless [for microtonal purposes] which Can be hard to learn but overall very enjoyable to play.

would recommend this oud very highly !

UKULELES & CBG :

too many for individual pictures.

in order of top-bottom, going Across :

ortega bass ukulele, silvertone concert ukulele, cbg, crossroads tenor ukulele, amahi concert ukulele, fender soprano ukulele.

BASS UKE :

My bass ukulele ! ! ortega Ukebass Purchased for $300 [locally], but is cracked [previous owner dropped it & sold it to store, minor damage & no fixing done] . supposed to be ~$500, but Cannot buy online from what i can tell . however assuming Not Glossed versions would be cheaper, ortega doesn't put prices on their website so cannot tell. Comes with electric capabilities & built in tuner . kala ubass [which is Effectively only other widely produced uke bass , at least where i am] about same price with similar sounds, but takes more expensive strings if need replace.

sounds good ! is electric as in Can be connected to amp but still has acoustic soundhole too . bass uke played like bass so sound similar to acoustic bass but Much higher octave . deep warm tone, similar to ubass which more videos of online if looking for reference.

easy easy to hold/play if have played [especially Tenor & Baritone] ukulele, mine is same size as baritone [but is shortscale , make longer version] so is not a big difference. not bad to play. much easier than regular bass lol.

would recommend this Uke [WITH RESEARCH ON VS UBASS] highly.

CONCERT UKE :

concert ukulele is one have played the Most of all instruments owned !! silvertone concert purchased for $75 [for music store Going out of business] locally . online is Slightly more expensive, ~$85 & up.

would consider this cheap for the Sound or produces , good sound. very bright, very loud [no electric option] . chords sound good good & accurate if tuned, even if little slightly off . very "Typical ukulele" sound, good for performing [have played many times with & without mic by ukulele, does best in Big space with mic but in coffee shop sized setting does not need.] Is overall very good.

most easy ukulele to play if 'average' hand size. most extremely easy to learn, or learn on in My opinion . generally most comfortable size if want Ukulele Ukulele sound . very fun, again great for performing.

would recommend this uke VERY HIGHLY.

CIGAR BOX GUITAR :

my Little Baby. small Sized cbg. bought for $75 locally at art festival ! did Not plan to buy, saw it got SO excited played little & fell in love. person was with at time ALSO not plan to buy anything played Another one & fell in love. VERY GOOD ! anyhow . cbgs can go from anywhere from ~$100-300+ online depending on seller, quality of material, if included resonator/electric, etc. general pricing about $150-250. can ALSO be handmade with Whatever you got so . whatever you feel works best.

as said Did not plan to buy but played & fell in love. such such pretty sound Steel string & bright notes . tuned GDg so little higher sound than Big guitar . every cbg sounds a little different but One i have very very pretty bright / loud . also had electric capabilities , makes very unique sound on amp which is different than regular guitar in way cannot explain. Currently not have amp [will bring it next week if want amp video] but . lovely lovely sound absolutely obsessed with this .

easy to play, medium to learn if not used to uncommon tuning. since is tuned like that chords can be mirrored for variants so makes better for hand placement if needed. personally Hard for me to 'get down' chords on there but also Brain Disability so expected . other person was with who bought one picked up very quickly , like within a few days . Hurts to play if not used to thin little steel strings but not for too long.

would recommend similar [nobody else can have/buy This specific one] cbg VERY HIGHLY.

TENOR UKE :

my tenor ukulele is named Cindy & this is very important fact about her . Anyhow . crossroads tenor was bought for $100 locally same place as oud, goes for around the same price online . have most basic of crossroads' tenor selection, with More options or Gloss are higher.

good sound .! much like concert , most similar to concert but little smoother. HOWEVER. buzzing on strings is problem . would Not play for performing until is fixed, but is very pretty for small gathering. can be loud bright but is also capable of lower warm tones . very pleasing .

easy to play like Concert , would not recommend to learn on since isn't very popular size & therefore not as easy translated to what Very High Quality / Not Beginner ukuleles made for when have learned . however Do What You Want, Forever because is still not bad .

would recommend this uke.

BARITONE UKE :

oguguggu Such a good instrument. got amahi baritone for $280 locally. Little more expensive written online, $330. can only be purchased local. Are cheaper baritones in the world, but this one Very Very worth price . has Built in tuner / eclectrics etc.

OHHH best sound on ukulele i have heard . like guitar but softer & like ukulele but louder & deeper & smoother . can retain brightness but sounds overall less so, more resonating . SO good SO SO good very calm & deep but still ukulele . had been mistaken for guitar BUT other baritones i've heard Can always tell are ukulele, so do not know which is more common to think / hear . such a beautiful sound so very good .

same finger positions as guitar , transposed for GCEA normal uke tuning so either Already Known or Just Leaning Which Position Means Which. is not bad at all & have gotten most down within a month, but a person without Bad Cognition probably have easier time . really very good . Very very good.

would recommend this uke VERY HIGHLY !

SOPRANO UKULELE :

fender ukulele. oh fender ukulele. bought fender sopranofor around $80-90 locally, don't remember exact since was 12 at the time. about the same price online. for god's sake Never pay full price for a fender soprano. especially one with No modifications/fixes.

when MODIFIED sounds great! bright so bright so high so very ukulele. is a very stereotypical ukulele sound, not as smooth as concert or bigger . BUT WITHOUT MODIFYING, WITHOUT FIXING ALL TUNING PEGS, CHANGING STINGS. buzz buzz buzz. buzz. rattle. rattle buzz. & that's about it. can get sound but is OVERWHELMING buzz & rattle. tuning pegs are loose ALWAYS. brought to shop to repair & got told All fenders sound like this . lol. yeah their ukuleles suck.

easy to learn. very easy to learn got it All Down within a few months. great size for small hands or Children. Is not as easy to play now that older with bigger hands but isn't Huge problem really not that bad.

would NOT recommend this ukulele DO NOT BUY FENDER UKULELE.

ACOUSTIC GUITAR :

the Most unfortunate brand name of instrument i own. SORRY! not associated with the guy. Not typing here so no faulty search results, name in image & id. was purchased again locally at the pawn shop for $50. was in Terrible Awful shape then, crusty dusty gross & worst strings ever. goes for like $100-150 online but is Not made anymore so it's all resell, varied wildly.

despite its Horrible past & Horrible name, it plays BEAUTIFULLY ! genuinely one of my favourite guitar sounds i've heard . low, mellow , not really so bright as typical acoustic . very melancholy guitar in my opinion. chill. love it .

it's like any other guitar, so is not bad to learn on. If you already know guitar you can play. really not a problem at all . i did not have trouble switching from my Good Quality Electric to playing this . :}

i would recommend this guitar highly.

ELECTRIC GUITAR :

first guitar i got . birthday gift ! fender stratocaster. as such, do Not know exact price, they go online for about $700 though . Does not have Whammy or other Etc stuff but is Not low quality . have seen strats in person ranging from like. $200-1000+ depending on quality / has it been used before etc. do Not think you need a whole fresh guitar to start but love anyway .

sounds good , sounds like Every Stratocaster. can make very diverse sounds of own accord [knobs] when plugged in amp, but is still loud if just strumming without . very Typical Radio electric guitar sound . enjoyable !

guitar very hard for Me to learn not out of chords but Hands . hands smaller when got so learning later than expected. would Not recommend electric for first guitar . is still Typical Guitar Experience as all fender are .

would recommend this guitar.

BASS :

MY only online instrument purchase ! the ibanez bass. bought for $200 online, have not seen exact model locally so do not know in store price. do know Is very cheap for bass. $200 about as low as it gets for Fresh bass, have seen used ones cheaper.

love the sound ! plays just like any bass , currently does not sound As good since need to replace strings but don't wanna spend Money on bass strings so Waiting until have to record but . when Fresh sounds awesome . ibanez is Good Good brand . low resonating notes. in Very small small gatherings still sounds good without amp, still can write on it without amp.

hard to learn if you fingers Small / weak / you mostly play Ukulele . still am able to do Lot of simplish basslines & getting better everyday. once play for a while build up strength etc. really really not bad.

would recommend this bass highly !

THE SAXOPHONE :

i am So So sorry i know so little about saxophone. intended to go into band freshman year Tried it Liked it But couldn't get it down OR read music enough to join band so largely don't play. Never knew brand since Mother purchased . Also do not know price but do know was over $1000, purchased locally. is beginner/student saxophone, so is not Top Quality but still good. still good.

sounds So nice when played right. lord knows i do not often achieve this. not the Highest Quality sound, not the smoothest deepest most Saxophone sound but . not Really noticable with other instruments. would not be clocked as 'bad' at least by Most people . you can tell it's a saxophone or at least a saxophone like instrument. enjoyable !

saxophone surprisingly easy to learn. very on track with that one for Me , not for student band, but for Me & could Easy learn short simple songs in like. hour & then see & play them again next day . really very easy, takes a lot of practice, energy to hold , but is Not bad ! if wanting learn a horn or Hornlike instrument [saxophone IS woodwind needs reed but sounds Like horn] would recommend. love saxophone & makes many sounds compared to other similar instruments.

this is all instruments :} PLEASE feel free to ask for more about any of them [technical or images or sound or just How Joey Sees Them. their names etc.] because i love them so So much . instruments[/music/writing music] special interest :} so very happy to talk about them always . hope You have enjoyed ! !

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thejoyofviolentmovement · 7 months ago

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Austin-based trio Boss Battle specialize in a sludgy and dirty alt rock/grunge-meets pop sound anchored around precise beats, stomach-dropping synth bass lines, walls of analog synth, scorching guitar and dual male/female vocals. While being heavy enough to thrash along with, the Austin-based outfit’s work has always been catchy and melodic enough to sing along to — presumably with a beer raised in the air. So far, through the release of a handful of singles and EPs, Boss Battle has been compared to The Jesus Lizard, Pixies, The Dead Weather, Deftones and Failure among a list of others. Building upon a growing profile locally and elsewhere, the band will be releasing a handful of singles over the course of the next year. The band’s latest single “Burned Alive” is a sludgy and soulful dirge, anchored around scorching riffs, whirring electronics, thunderous drumming and enormous, sing-along worthy hook and choruses within an expansive yet grunge-inspired song structure. The song’s arrangement serves as lush yet anthemic bed for remarkably melodic, powerhouse vocals. “‘Burned Alive’ might be the simplest yet most melodic song we’ve written,” the band’s Chico Jones says. “All the parts landed quickly. The arrangement was straight forward. I remember Ben suggesting that we kill any intro and start cold with the lyrics and music. Bang! you’re in the middle of it! I also remember recording the vocal lines into my phone almost immediately after we wrote the guitar and drums. I am proud of the melodies. Definite singalong feels.” “The lyrics took a while though—and several rewrites as well,” Jones continues. “But I like where we landed with the words … The vibe is sort of this Flowers for Algernon perspective but only the worst parts. Abandon all hope… And Erin really nails that emotion at the end— so good. I also can tell that the band geek in me is giving a shoutout to influences that use a lot of space in their riffs . It’s as if the beginning is just an excuse for that drop at the end— but in reality you have to hammer everyone for a bit before you take them for a slow ride.Oh yeah I’m also not really playing chords — why are there so many strings on this thing?”

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#Austin TX #Boss Battle #Boss Battle Burned Alive #Burned Alive #grunge #indie synth rock #New Audio #New Single #Single Review #Single Review: Boss Battle Burned Alive #Single Review: Burned Alive #synth rock #women who kick ass

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live-love-laugh-lesbian · 8 months ago

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hi hi hii sorry ive been a bit busy but i love talking to you <33

ooh gift giving day is coming closerrr i lowkey hope you like yours ajsjfjdjc

fun fact: i listened to story of us for the first time today?!??? i know im crazy ajdjejsjd such a fan i am

alsoo while we are on the topic of my little pony ajdjrjs whats your favourite character?

herbal tea is soo good and chamomile tea after a hard dayy soo reall unfortunately i cant function properly without coffee so i prefer coffee ajdjfjsjf but tea is definitely more calming and probably more healthy for me lmao

see, i would pick master any instrument bc im not a sporty person andjdjs im more into music been learning it since i was 6 and i own an acoustic guitar which i would love to be able to play barre chords on but tbf the main instrument id like to master is ELECTRIC GUITARSSSS omg im obsessed w electric guitars theyre absolutely loml any character that plays them will forever be my favourite character electric guitars are SO HOT sorry im very passionate abt them i would love to be able to play some sick riffs on an electric guitar (also they just overall look so cool omg akdkejsjd) ive always wanted to learn electric guitar since i was a kid or like a bass 😍😍

anywayss amdjeksjd what would you pick? and my question for you: if you could pursue 3 careers what would they be? (if you dont mind sharing) alsoo cats or dogs? and sky blue or baby pink?

-swiftie spring exchange anon

Hello again! Is ok, no need to apologise! I'm enjoying talking to you as well! (Also low key shocked you only just heard that song the other day?? I swear it was everywhere at one point XD)

I'm sure I will like mine!! I am stressing over if my person will like theirs tho XD

My favourite MLP character is Rainbow Dash, but I'm a fan of Applejack too. I like the dynamics Applejack has with everyone, whilst with Rainbow Dash I think she's just super cool. How can I not love a rainbow pegasus??

Pfft sometimes coffee confuses me because everyone I know who drinks it seems to drink it for the caffeine...do people actually like coffee itself, or is it the caffeine? I'm mostly joking but also very confused XD And ooh...honestly electric guitars are very cool. I don't know why but they're just always associated with cool for whatever reason?? Electric instruments fascinate me however. Like what we make electric vs what we don't...imagine an electric violin. Or a flute. A recorder XD Idk but basically I can see why you'd pick that!! It's really cool you can do the guitar! I am terrible with music (I tried to learn the violin as a kid...I broke part of it on the very first day, panicked, and tried to fix it with superglue. It...sorta worked, enough so that I managed to just keep quiet about it until I turned 18 and was well away from consequences regarding breaking it lol.)

I think personally I'd like to go sports, but opportunities are low where I am, so it feels a bit wasted :( So maybe music? Ideally sports, especially anything that lets me go super fast. ALSO I want to be able to swim. And currently I uh cannot. And keep failing at trying to learn. Oh well.

Okay so 3 careers...I feel like I'm gonna be a bit vague here. First is my ideal career of "something that helps children with special educational needs". Whether that's like, support in schools, or making sure schools provide the right support, idk. Second...probably something medical? When I was younger I had wanted to study medicine at uni. I did not in the end but yeah! Helping out in the medical industry would be fun. And third...an animator! I've not got the patience for it tho XD What about you??

And cats!! I have two, one of which is sleeping beside the computer and the other is currently climbing over the keyboard and trying to sit on my arms. She is very helpful (sarcasm) but I love her so she gets away with everything XD You? And unsure on the pink vs blue...probably blue? In general I prefer warm colours to cool colours, but if I look around I have more blue things than pink things so maybe blue is the exception?

And last but not least, my question to you: of the four elements, air, water, fire and earth, which would you most like to be able to control?

#swift spring exchange anon

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frecords · 8 months ago

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My music production process

Step 1: the idea

Inspiration usually stems from listening to artists I really like (Listed in the likes of my profiles). It can be a riff, a whole section or a line of lyrics. The first step is to lay down this one section, the tone of the song and the lyrics (if any). If I write instrumental music, it's usually because I'm bored or want to jam.

The tone can change during the process of course, but I usually stick to the initial idea since it is connected to the lyrics, the messag of the song.

I usually write songs in times of inner turmoil. My lyrics reflect that, they help me to process my emotions and I record the songs when I'm in a better place mentally. I still helps to sometimes scream out what you hide inside yourself. But I got better at voicing my problems and not eating them up over the years. In the same way I got better at writing more happy music.

Step 2: the rhythm

As noted before, I am not proficient with percussion. Nonetheless, my songs too need a reliable rhythm group that isn't just a metronome. That's why I program my drums. This also dictates the structure (which section follows which).

Step 3: Rhythm guitar, riffing

I record my guitar directly through my Lexicon Lambda interface into Garageband's digital amps. I start with the chord progressions and main riffs, then add bass as foundation.

In songs where I don't play guitar (which are an exception) I just arrange loops from the library and maybe program some Midi parts.

Step 4: melodies

Metalcore riffs are usually rather simple. They require good technique to play fast, but on their own they get uninteresting with every repetition. What makes them so interesting are the harmonies, the second voices. I absolutely love how the riffs glow up when combined with a simple transposed version. Of course, solos are important too.

Step 5: vocals

On top of the instruments I record my vocals through a Sennheiser MK4. I usually have two voice tracks, one for melodic lines, second voices and melodic parts and one for screams, spoken or rapped parts. If needed, more tracks of each type can be added.

Step 6: mix

Once everything is recorded, I equialize each individual track. Then I adjust volumes and other automation parameters over the project. That way I add fade-ins and -outs, effects like a reverbed section and layers.

Step 7: master

When everything sounds fine in the mix, I export each individual category to sidechain them. I have 3 to 4 categories: Vocals, guitar and drums. Sometimes, there's effects or strings/synths. I only adjust volumes between the categories and maybe add an overall EQ. In this stage I listen to each category and track on their own and revise sections because either they don't sound good on their own or in the mix. Sounddesign is mainly done through the built-in speakers of my Macbook Pro or my headphones (Marley Positive vibration 2 wireless), but they amplify the bass too much. I sometimes listen back to my songs via my stereo system.

Step 8: let it sit!

After mastering (sidechaining) all the tracks, I export the project, listen to it one last time and - let it sit for at least two days. During this time I listen to other music. Maybe I gain more inspiration or want to try another effect on a section. Then I actually finish and upload the track after a final listen.

The whole process takes between 2 and 20 hours pure work time. But it usually stretches over several weeks from the initial idea to the mastering stage.

#music producer #my music

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thepatchworkreview · 9 months ago

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Debrief and Critique: Chlorine, Longboy, Bummer, Dude!, and Sells - 11/30/23 - Cafe Colonial, Sacramento

Critiques follow a two-part formula: Opinionated critique, and objective critique Objective critique will include a summary of the content and technical skill ONLY. aaaaaand...Opinionated critique includes discussion of the "show" aspect of the-.. well, the show.

~Opinionated Critique~

Am I putting my opinion first? Yes. I am. Because all the unpleasant technical stuff should always be AFTER you compliment the shit out of someone. TO BE FAIR. Not everything I have to say about all these bands is pleasant. Gentle reminder—it's my opinion, and who gives a single shit about that?

- Chlorine: Best screams, hands down. The grungy look and sound of the band really evokes an older, Seattle grunge feel. The drums were NASTY, the rides and fills fucking rocked, and the pit moshed hard for a fucking reason. This band reeks with the look and feel of a band who are on the same page. Do I feel like the grungey Y2K thing is being overdone right now? A little, yeah—but these guys wear it well and commit really hard. As they progress and play more shows, I do expect to see tighter, crowd-work—and I mean more than just plugging the band Instagram. I also would like to see more dynamic showmanship from all members.

- Longboy: Award for the band that had the most shit going on goes to... Longboy! These guys had a bunch of ideas and gags happening that really added to the show: samples that faded into songs; bringing up a friend to sing the first song of the set; a synth! Ecclectic outfits and a funny cover song that people were BOUND to know and sing along to, sung by a singer who sounded UNCANNILY like the original artist. It ruled! But what I will say is that the amount of stuff and genres that they delved into made the set a bit unruly and thematically whirl-windy. A lot of really good ideas! ...With a lack of followthrough. The playing was stellar! I want to see that amount of polish applied to the show you guys put on!

- Bummer, Dude!: THESEGUYS ARE PERFORMING AT THE WRONG VENUES! AND YES! I DO MEAN THAT NICELEY! The sound is so Jeff Buckley, so Billy Idol—it's cruise ship ready! Bummer, Dude retains the harder sound with really passionate breakdowns and lush guitar riffs, but is slow enough to melt right into your sweetheart with. That being said, I did find that about halfway through their set I was looking for a little more energy—I felt like they slowed down the show nicely, but holy shit did it get slow. I would've loved them to end on a way more energetic note, something that the whole band just fucking rocks out to rather than the "hit," y'know?

- Sells: Okay. I have words for you guys that aren't great, but that's all in the other section of critique. The lead singer sang and performed like Sid Viscious on cracked cocaine. Did you play six songs and all of them used three or four chords maybe? Oh yeah. For sure. Did you still knock it out of the park with insane crowd-work, energy, bombast and style? YES. The juxtaposition—whether intentional or not of the lead singer and bassist, one being an insane performer—and the other stonefaced (accidental???) comedian was such an incredible, versatile component of the show. Not only that, but just- the sheer, raw, unmatched energy that the lead singer ALONE provided was fucking captivating. AND it acted as the lynchpin for a memorable end of the show as an entirety. All I want from you guys is to keep working on your music and the technicalities of it, you've got the showmanship part of it made (sans the shy [what I can only assume to be- new] person on both bass and drums. I do need less embarrassment and more vibes from them {sorry to drag you, girl.})

~ Objective Critique ~Content: This will hopefully be the only show I will ever have to say this for, but everyone is on an equal playing field as far as content within the bounds of the live show. The live audio was a clusterfuck of poor mixing and vocalists not knowing how dynamic mics (those little round microphones you see people like mariah carrey sing into) pick up sound. Now: what leads me to believe that the mic trouble was not just user error is that more obviously skilled members between the bands would still have moments of really muddled audio, even while performing about 3-5 inches from the damn things. Not only this, but the lead singer of Chlorine did actually notice that he could not hear himself, and did ask for this to be resloved (it was not). For a good 40-60% chunk of the performances, I could not

clearly hear anything being sung. (I will include that I could pretty much hear all of "Bummer, Dude!'s vocals BECAUSE their surrounding instrumentals were so tame that they left room for it. When they picked things up—nada. I also heard Sells vocals but I genuinely attribute that to the fact that the lead singer was fucking BELLOWING into the mic like real style.) (Again, I apologize, because this seems like such a cop out.)

Technical Skill:I kind of dread writing this part just because I'm an amateur artist myself, and really can't go shitting on people's head's about their performances—SO BEFORE YOU COME AFTER ME I dragged my sorry ass friend (the guy who went to the show with me!) (he actually knows stuff about music AND has done live shows before) into this journalistic mess, and will be paraphrasing statements he made to me, quite appropriately in a dark and empty band room.

- Chlorine: Although fucked by the mixing, had some really great stability and themes. The playing (guitar) was a little muddy on it's own and could've 100% used some more definition or direction- but this could also just be a product of the genre they play. (shoegaze, eg.) The drummer was reliable and had good fills and rides, but would follow the lead singer's excitement—rushing and lagging to his singing. This isn't always a bad thing, and frankly isn't noticable to any "simple show-goer" (for lack of better term), but it was something that could be observed by a careful eye. As a young band, we only expect them to get better—and it's very obvious the time and effort they have put into practicing paid off. They sounded good and tune to eachother well.

- Longboy: Longboy had alot going on, which was exciting! But this left us with few comments about the drummer, as we don't remember being able to hear much of them, quite unfortunately. (Again, I don't think this is Longboy's fault, the mixing was just trash.) The guitarist//bassist seemed dynamic and experienced. At the very begining of the set, a synthesizer was used to create a piano part that was not well-practiced. It sounded bad and janky among the softer singing and instrumental. Every other aspect of their performance though—just aside from that synth part—was very well done.

- Bummer, Dude!: The tightest set for certain, for obvious reasons. The music was slow, and easy to keep tempo to (not a dig, again, just a product of the R&B//Shoegaze genre) and it was incredibly obvious that the band had not only practiced immensely, but also performed live for a while. (Note: we have agreed this drummer held tempo the best out of all the bands.) All moving parts of the band—guitar, bass, vocals, and drums—operated like a well oiled machine.

- Sells: Out of all bands, Sells did have the most issues with tempo consistency. A mechanic they played on throughout the show is that they would switch instruments, (i.e, the singer would play the drums, etc.), and while the singer played very fast and vigorously, could not keep... you guessed it: tempo consistency. Later, the bassist took over on drums and had simillar issues; the drums sounded unpracticed, even with simple beats. But! When on their "home" instruments, they played well together. (I would like to mention it's really hard to sing and play drums, so kudos regardless.) (Additional note: Tempo consistency is not as important in a live setting as others, but is an important measure of technical skill.)

You can find all these guys on instagram-

@fuckchlorine

@Longboy_CA

@Bummerdudes

@SellsBand

Overall, an energetic, diverse, fun, show- With so much opportunity hot on it's tail.

Many thanks for those of you who took the time to read! Let's pick this up again, some other time.

- Patch

#music #sacramentounderground #grunge #punk #musicreview #hottake #music journalism

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hospitalterrorizer · 1 year ago

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diary32

10/6-7/2023

back 2 fixing things.

but i'm happy with how these two sound. thinking now: things could be brighter in one, or harsher, and i figured out exactly how to do that i think, i need to peak a couple freqs a bunch, super resonances in the high mids/ super highs, and that'll work really well.

it's fun solving problems and thinking about sound, i was thinking about why some of these riffs are hard to mix, and because some are written pretty low/ with lower notes (2nd octave, around c2 i guess, so not way low, but, like, maybe relatively) there's a lot happening in the mids, bunches of fundamentals there, and so a lot of the texture sits right beside that note information, and the notes coming thru clearly/not distorted feeling enough has been a problem, but i can focus on those ranges precisely, not just w/ the peaking trick but i can like, actually strategically use multiband distortion. but i was thinking about how when you play bass, the high end noises/nonmusical features can end up kind of accentuated, just as the sound happens, there's more space for those to sit, but the smearing in guitar, even simulated, is harder to deal with, plus chords being complicated by all the note interaction or whatever and stuff. i don't know a lot about music really, at least theory, i only really feel confident in dealing with sound, and mostly it's an intuitive process. so like i don't know about anything.

right now i am listening to haruomi hosono's video game music. this stuff is such an intense pleasure. this stuff is genius. the fact that these songs are interrupted by the sound effects in these games, these atonal shots across the tonal field, i feel kinship with it, it knows it's funny, and it's genius. it also reminds me of mario 3, and how my aunt used to play it, that particular kind of sound chip, one of the greatest sounds, to be sure. the kitchen where my aunt played mario 3 while cooking, the kitchen where my uncle made gyoza by hand at times, and where he played world of warcraft, the computer my aunt played mario 3 on being the very computer my older cousins showed me scary maze game on, where i ran from that beloved kitchen shrieking, and where my uncle let me watch him play world of warcraft in silence, and seeing my interest, let me use his account, and at home playing, i had experiences too soon, that i should not have had at 6 or 8. but i did. all of this only makes me love life. that computer changed hands 3 times, from each cousin down, until my nearest in age cousin owned it, that tan tower, the hefty crt, it's all gone now, but i loved that thing, that computer so old, it still used floppies. i love that a floppy disc pc was part of my life, a deep thing lodged in me.

now listening to the pole position track, i really feel connected to this, using simple synthesis and illusions to create the sense that you are hearing something not there, in my case guitars, in this case, vehicles, accidents, and people screaming. hosono is obviously working with harder stuff though, i'm only able to cheat with distortion, he really picked the sounds down to their simplest elements and worked out how to make them feel like something.

and dig dug now, i remember getting this on a plug n play from my stepdad, and earlier, from my stepmom. i had good times with those. dig dug is a game i never got good at, i'm not good at any games, but i loved dig dug.

maybe people would say these old games are clumsy, but tim roger's excessively long video about pac man is maybe one of the most moving things ever, all of this was highly intentional at the start.

now i'm listening to kap bambino and i don't know where my phone is.

today broadly was either nice or really stressful, cooking dinner was stressful, a bag of candy my gf had fell onto all the dishes which didn't get them dirty or anything it was a really inconvenient mess and then an egg rolled off the counter while i was trying to put something back in the fridge and then i made a bunch of smoke happen because i let the lid on while heating oil (why, i don't know, i say it every day now, i'm like actually way stupid, i don't deserve to live i make so many problems) and dinner was fine i think, i liked it even, it was just a lot of stress and frustration in the kitchen, i guess that will make sleep better.

sometimes i wish i had more help in the kitchen, but it's so small, and my gf never really learned about cooking or even learned about helping to cook, so she would be very awkward and probably end up frustrating me when i need to move somewhere or something, and i'm so used to doing everything alone and when i helped my mom i got good at intuiting how to stay out of her way so she wouldn't get mad at me, it's just a difficult arrangement in the apartment. she hates cleaning or getting her hands wet, so she doesn't wanna do dishes. it's fine that i do all of it. i have no job, she makes all the money and stuff. it's just frustrating sometimes i guess. it's stupid though, she pays for my existence, i can do everything else.

and there's some really awful canker sore at the back of my mouth, it feels so raw right now. ugh. a constant sharp pain, i wish i didn't have to be inside of my body right now.

it's crazy how tiny inconveniences can make me want to fall to the floor and curl up and wait until i die.

so anyways, byebye!!

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doyoueverstopandthink · 1 year ago

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gonna add onto this with information about beethoven symphony no 7 movement 2 being in season two!!

this symphony as a whole is in a major, while this movement is in the parallel minor, which is a minor. a major is viewed as a more triumphant key (it has three sharps), and a minor is kinda a more somber and mellow key (it has no sharps or flats in it). the tempo marking is allegretto and is marked as “a little lively”, which is really interesting when contrasting it with the story of it’s creation.

the most prominent motif throughout the movement is this: quarter, eighth-eighth, quarter, quarter. so it’s “daa da-da daa daa” kinda sounding. a long, short-short, long, long. this creates a steady and repeated measure that moves forward, but still feels kinda heavy.

with that being said, here’s some more context surrounding the creation of the piece:

beethoven composed this while napoleon was waging war on europe in 1811. this was recently after beethoven had to step down from his performance career due to having chronic stomach pain and slowly losing his hearing. these emotions mixed together created this movement, which was described as, “the ultimate cry of lament” by joshua bell (who,,, isn’t a good person, but that’s another conversation for another day!!).

this piece works beautifully in our flag means death for a variety of reasons.

(1) the war: although there’s not a blatant war going on, there’s still a lot of violence happening in and around ed. he’s actively attacking other people and stealing their shit, but this movement plays when he hands izzy the gun and tells him about his dream. he’s decided to place his life in izzy’s hand and has voluntarily created an environment where he is in a lower position of power.

(2) the chronic pain: beethoven was fucking depressed and, at this point, his lowest moments. his mental state would get worse as his life went on and as his hearing got worse, which is translated to ed. he’s never experienced the heartbreak that he’s experiencing at this moment in time, because nothing like this has happened before. it keeps getting worse as it gets further along in the episode and shows us a faster progression than what was necessarily expected.

the constant violence surrounding beethoven’s life and his despair about his debilitating health - whether it be mental or physical - was echoed perfectly by ed.

on top of that, this movement ends on a six-four inversion, which means that the standard tonic chord (a chord that consists of A-C-E) becomes a chord that consists of E as the bass note, then A-C on top of it. similarly to the gnossience no 5, it creates a sense of ending without it being completely resolved.

so. yeah!! hopefully this is mostly coherent but i am also very tired and have only seen the episodes from season two once so far. i’ll probably rewatch them tomorrow and will be able to edit this a little bit to be a little more detailed :)

i will literally never get over about how fantastic the transition from robert schumann’s “träumerei” to erik satie’s “gnossiennes: no. 5” is in episode nine during The Kiss™

mark motherbaugh’s usage of satie’s gnossienne in the first place is brilliant because (1) erik satie was an aristocrat sorta person and was almost frowned upon for creating this “new style” of classical piano music and (2) in ends on an minor sixth first inversion

first of all, according to 17th century western european classical music theory, you’re not meant to end a piece on a minor sixth chord. a regular e minor chord would (most likely) be E - G in the bass and a B - E in the treble so that the root of the chord (E) is doubled up.

erik satie, however, ends it with G (the first note of the major chord) and it’s G - B in the bass and octave E’s in the treble. the minor sixth combined with this inversion very much so gives it the sense that it should move on and that the piece shouldn’t end there, which is why it’s so fucking perfect for ed and stede

their relationship, by all means, should keep going on. everything’s laid out nicely - they’re going to escape, be together, and go to china - but it just… stops. and it’s not an abrupt stop, but it’s a strange one. and i’m fucking obsessed with it.

#our flag means death #ofmd spoilers #ofmd season 2 #ed teach #edward teach #music theory #ludwig van beethoven #beethoven #music analysis #i will revise this later and make sure it’s all accurate aksjfhajhdjshd

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videostak · 2 years ago

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definitely not looking to make any disastrous impulse purchases anytime soon but i also feel like if i really do wanna play music and be taken seriously as some sort of musician, i need to really get a guitar and a decent amount of pedals and just began developing a particular tone and like style of playing that incorporates primarily shoegaze, reich/glass-esque minimalism, balinese gamelan, and like pharoah sanders brotzmann eric dolphy esque loud cathartic free jazz playing all into one. sounds funner talking about for sure but like im definitely not someone who sees myself mastering one instrument but is far more interested in using instruments just to make sounds and like the electric guitar is obviously the best instrument to just fuck around with and improvise with etc. but not gonna purchase one unless im super good on money and happen to chance run into a really nice looking one for cheap but i really dont wann do that either until ive like atleast studied a bit more music stuff like am just a bit more well versed and am confident abt my keyboard/organ/piano/synth playing and especially my bass playing since thats the only string instrument i have. well i also have my lap steel but a string broke off and i have trouble tuning it but also i rly wanna just fuck around with that and see how i can get it to make cool sounds with out playing it like a conventional lap steel. like i wouldnt wanna get a guitar til im able to atleast do some real improvisational stuff with the lap steel. the fact that u cant play chords on it conventionally makes it like the perfect instrument to like try to do stuff and be creative with. tho rn its under my bed super dusty cause its defnitely something im gonna have to like really dedicate to working with and experimenting with

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goldenkirstein · 4 years ago

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aot band! au headcanons pt. 1:

pt. two here

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

pairing: jean x fem! reader, eren x fem! reader, zeke x fem! reader

wc: 1.2k+

cw: smut (18+ minors DNI), reader has female anatomy, manipulation/corruption, dumbification/incoherence, sorta dubcon (?), mentions of spit, cockwarming, unprotected sex, cursing, dirty talk, creampie/breeding, cumplay, degradation, perv! zeke.

a/n: okayyyyy, so im reposting this, because i didn't like it the first time i posted it lol. i added and cut out some things still don't know if i really like it. anyways, i tried my best with tagging everything, i really hope i didn't miss anything, if i did please let me know. this is my first time writing anything smutty, i'd love to hear any feedback or criticism !!

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

smut under the cut

jean kirstein

Jean would play the electric guitar.

He wouldn't have any big tattoos but tiny stick and pokes, but when he takes off his shirt, there would be this giant, intricate tattoo that spans his entire back.

He wears thin white t-shirts that cling to his body when he gets all sweaty from performing or when he douses himself in water because the lights make it really hot on stage, babe. The shirt becomes practically see-through, and when he turns around, you can see the outline of the back tattoo. You swear he does it on purpose.

HIS HANDS, calloused from hours of practice, wears chunky silver rings that make his long fingers stand out. He keeps his ring finger empty, though (he's a romantic and a big ol’ softie).

When he's writing songs or can't figure out what chord would sound right, he plays with his rings. He takes them off, sliding them up and down his finger until he's satisfied and moves on to the others.

It drives him insane if he sees you singing along to his songs at the concerts. He'll smirk at you, opting for a quick wink, before getting back to performing.

After the show, he’ll pull you into his lap, in whatever empty room is available. He’ll have his hands on your hips, the cold rings contrasting against your hot skin.

His heart would be beating so fast, adrenaline pumping through his veins. He just got off stage, and here you are, grinding down on the growing bulge in his pants, driving him crazy.

On most days, he liked it when you would fuck him post-show, sliding your skirt up and sink down on his cock.

He loved watching you fuck yourself dumb around him, tits bouncing in his face, head thrown back in pleasure. His cock would reduce you into an incoherent blubbering mess. The only thing making sense was the way you were chanting his name like a prayer.

this fucker would love to whisper the most filthy things in your ear, “you’re making such a mess around my cock, petal. You’re gonna be a good slut and clean it up after, right?”

when he’s about to cum, he turns into an absolute mess. He gets super whimpery and will hold you close to his chest as he dumps his load in you. He stays like that for a while, watching as his cum drips out of your cunt and down his dick.

He doesn’t let you get off his cock, partly because he’s so sensitive and partly because he secretly wants to stuff you full of his babies.

after he’s calmed down a bit, he’ll open his eyes and run a hand through his hair, letting out a small chuckle, “shit, baby, you keep fucking me like that and I might just have to put a ring around that finger.”

eren yeager

plays bass and is on vocals

he has a sleeve on one arm, and the other one is empty. It's pretty cohesive, and the pieces link together-think American traditional; he takes great pride in his tattoos. After all, they're pieces of art on his body.

He likes showing off on stage. He’ll take off his shirt and throw it into the crowd, and he loves hearing the screams that ensue afterwards.

Always the performer; he’ll walk off the stage and stand on the rails, getting the people in the crowd to run their hands down his sweat-slicked torso. It’s another crowd favourite.

he wears rings too, and his favourite thing to do is to get you to pull them off his fingers using your mouth. He has to coax you into each time, “I can’t pull them off by myself; they’re too tight, need your help, angel.” He just likes having you suck on his fingers; he won’t tell you that, though.

He likes the attention from the fans, but he mainly does it to get you hot and bothered. Eren stares at you while strangers are practically grabbing at him. It’s a game for him. Figure out just how many ways he can get to you.

you always avoid him after the shows, in a way to tell him that you're not impressed by the stunts he pulls.

As much as you try to run and hide, he always finds you. He’ll come up from behind, hands on your waist; you don’t need to see him to know that he’s got that Cheshire cat grin on his face.

Try to escape from his grip, and it’ll only get tighter, “what’d you think of my little performance, princess? Did it make you weak in the knees?”

He loves pushing your buttons, does everything to get a reaction out of you, try all you might, the night always ends the same way, you bent over his dressing room table, skirt lifted, panties to the side, and him fucking ruthlessly into you from behind.

the stoic front you put up would be practically erased from the way his cock slides in and out of your spongy walls, hitting that sweet spot over and over again.

He loves hearing you beg for him; he wants to listen to the vulgar words fall from your mouth, wants to have you begging him to let you cum, pleading for him to cum in your pussy.

He’ll tease you endlessly, “what’s that angel? If you want my cum so bad, you gotta beg better than that.” In the end, he always gives in, also liking the way his seed drips out of your pulsating hole.

Before any can drip down your thighs, he’ll slide back your panties, straighten out your skirt and send you off, saying that, “it’s for later, for when you try fingering that pretty little pussy, you’ll always have a reminder of who owns it.”

Bonus: tour manager! zeke yeager:

tour manager zeke, who watches the shows from the venue’s back, keeping his eyes trained on you.

Tour manager zeke who has a reputation for being a sleazebag, a cheapskate and vile to women.

Tour manager zeke, who watches as you stay back after each show to clean up, smiling ever so sweetly at him, “no mr. yeager, I really don’t mind helping out. It’s the least I can do.”

tour manager zeke, who can’t help think of shameful things when you bend over to pick up the crumpled posters, his eyes that linger a little too long at the swell of your pert ass.

Tour manager zeke thinks about how your mouth would feel around his cock, how your eyes would tear up as he pushed your head further and further down his cock. How pretty you would look with spit and cum coating that sweet face of yours.

Tour manager zeke, who has always been kind to you, offering to take you home for the night, telling you how cute you look and how he can’t believe you’re over 18.

Tour manager zeke wants to defile you and make you his, ruin you so that you can only get off from his cock and no one else’s.

Tour manager zeke wants to teach you how to suck dick, how to ride, how to fuck.

Tour manager zeke, who treats you so nicely, putting false notions in your mind so you can let your guard down around him, hoping that one day he can shape you into his plaything.

a/n: hope the smut sounded right this time around lmao, i might scrap it in the morning again idek yet, just wanted to see if i could even write smut.

I am working on the second part of somewhere only we know !! thank you for all the love on that.

if this does well, i'd love to do a part two to this with armin, mikasa and connie, please let me know if that is something you would be interested in !!

as always, if you enjoyed, leave a like/reblog, i truly appreciate it <33

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you-did-well-moon · 3 years ago

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Day6 Reaction to s/o learning their instrument while they're away

Type: Fluff, angst in Dowoon dont know what happened wasnt me

Word Count: 2.865

A/n: I took some creative freedom with why they were away but that is it. Keep in mind, I have no experience with instrument except for when I played the piano in 5th grade for like two weeks. Anyways, I hope you enjoy! - Moon

TW: small cuts, fight, second hand embarrassment

Sungjin

Sungjin was absolutely and devastatingly exhausted. His own guitar case felt like it was weighing him down tremendously, and he had a huge headache. Jae and Wonpil arguing in the back of the car was not helping in any way. It has been going on since they left the airport. He rubbed at his temples tiredly pressing his head against the cool window from his place in the passenger seat next to their manager.

Still, he couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips as he thought about seeing you, probably curled up in the couch cheeks puffed from the snack you were inhaling. The pounding in his head lightened at the cute sight he would soon get to enjoy as he played with the loose threads of his old button up shirt.

True to Sungjin’s imagination, your form was sitting on the couch. Not true to his imagination, you were actually bent over something in your lap, lightly humming and bopping your head to the rhythm being produced by your still clumsy fingers. The guitar in your lap had gotten lighter as the days went by without your boyfriend, and in replacement of his touch, leaving your fingertips warm and tingling, it was small cuts you hadn’t bothered to bandage as it disrupted you when playing.

You missed Sungjin an abnormal amount. The cold spot in the bed or him making weird faces at you through the mirror in the mirror when brushing your teeth. You missed all of it. With a slight tremble in your chest you started playing the chorus to “You Were beautiful”.

You were so focused on trying to get it right you didn’t notice the door closing only to startle when you slightly looked up through your lidded eyes seeing the shadow looming over the coffee table. With a small yelp of surprise you jumped immediately looking up only to find your boyfriend staring at you with wide eyes.

His surprised expression made you shrink into yourself. You threw your head into your hands in pure embarrassment letting the guitar gently slide off your lap, hitting the floor with a soft thump. “Can you just pretend you didn’t see that I can’t believe I even tried learning all that by myself I” you cut yourself off with an un-pleased sigh shaking your head and looking at him with pleading eyes.

Your boyfriend continued in his frozen state for about five seconds before breaking out in the biggest smile rushing around the coffee table in which you panicked trying to get away from him with a squeal, but being too slow im the excitement that was usually in a much dormant state in Sungjin. The wrinkles near the corner of his eyes deepened adoringly, and his chest shook with soft laughter while he held you close.

There was a fond twinkle in his eye as Sungjin forgot any tiredness that clung to his bones and kissed the tips of your fingertips while maintaining eye contact. He kept your hands encased in his when scolding you for having such low faith in yourself and softly encouraging you. He would probably put little stitch band-aids on your fingertips and continue teaching you, sitting you on his lap and scolding you when you lose focus with a sharp poke at your ribs smiling when you giggled. This man just fell impossibly more in love with you.

“You shouldn’t say those things, look at you love, learning all alone and doing so well. I'm so proud. Would you rather have the elmo band-aids or the stitch band-aids… I don’t know about you but Elmo kinda creeps me out. Just five more minutes little love then you can go mug Young k with Dowoon. Don’t look at me like that! You finally have a teacher and you take him for granted. The audacity-”

Jae

Jae was a thin hair away from just ripping his hair out. He didn’t believe the kpop industry would take very kindly to him going bald, but he had come to a point where he didn’t really care about what people thought anymore. But thinking about you not being able to play with his hair anymore while he drifted off to sleep with his head on your chest severely upset him.

Jae had gotten stuck in another limbo, stuck in the studio and in his own head desperately trying to finish any of the unfinished songs left in his computer files. He missed you so much, he eventually called it quits, deciding to go home to you, who he hadn’t seen in days.

Just the thought about seeing you energized his previously exhausted self. He never could get sick of you. Every day, every week was a new adventure, a new chapter, all with his favorite person in the world. The night sky, although beautiful, seemed to mock him, reminding him of how late it was, meaning you were most probably asleep.

Opening the door to his apartment, he heard soft music. He briefly recognized “I Need Somebody”, and thought you were playing it from your phone. All his thoughts came to a halting stop when he saw you perched on the bed, in his shirt, playing the melody of the previously mentioned song.

You had hair falling into your eyes with your eyebrows slightly scrunched trying not to mess up and heavily focused. Jae had loudly yelled in surprise, causing you to flinch and look up shocked at the sudden surprise. When you saw it was just him, you had comically thrown your hands in the air yelling at him about how it was supposed to be a surprise.

The irritated look on your face vanished as you went up to give him a light hug with a kiss, softly smiling at him. Meanwhile Jae, was completely out of it, lovestruck eyes while he instinctively returned your affection.

“Come Jae, you look like you haven’t slept in ages, your eyes are so sunken babe”, you had softly whispered to him, rubbing the soft skin under his eyes, the way you were always soft with him when he came back from the studio. You slept in the same bed for the first time in what had been days, Jae tightly clutching on to you.

He may have not been completely there at the moment, but in the morning when he had time to process everything, he was a changed man. He wouldn’t stop laughing and giggling excitedly, eagerly wanting to hear everything you had learnt. He even poked fun at you when you made a mistake. But it was all lovingly as he also praised you non stop while looking at you with his messy hair and big smile next to you on the couch. He had so much inspiration now. To finish what had been left behind.

“Pop off queen who gave you this much talent, you couldn’t even tell me what bass was last time we talked, which was like a week ago. Might just make you play when I don’t feel like playing. Give you a wig and people won’t know the difference! Why are you booing me, I'm right?”

Young K

Young K’s foot tapping on the floor of the car was the only sound that filled the car aside from the soft sound of the car’s engine and tires. He was absolutely spent, having to have stayed in a different city for a show he was invited to that was filmed far away from his home.

Far away from you. Young K could tell his manager was starting to get irritated, but Young K was already massively annoyed and too far in his own world to really care. He missed the pine scent of his sheets, and he missed you.

It was not a good combination. When he got to his place he quietly thanked the manager, getting his bag before trying to ignore every urge telling him to run into the building and fall into his soft bed with you in his arms. When he opened the door, your keys were there, so he knew you were in the building. That thought filled him with more relief than it should have.

He did have to admit, hearing “I smile” this early in the day was odd as you usually saved the more mellow songs for later in the night. Young K told himself he had many euphoric moments in his life, but seeing you staring at a sheet of paper with so much determination and a bass guitar in your arms came pretty close to the top.

The absolute warmth that exploded in his chest was a feeling he would not forget in a long time. He could feel his lips slightly curl up in fondness as your hands shook while your eyes wavered unsurely between your hands on the strings and the video on your laptop sitting further on the edge of the bed. Your face scrunched up before you sighed and stared dejectedly at the instrument on your lap.

“Why so sad love?" His voice made you instantly sit up, pushing the instrument gently off your lap. You crawled to the edge of the bed where Young K had already gotten closer where he met you tenderly running his hand through your hair, and he curved his hand around the back of your head bringing your forehead to his abdomen.

He brushed his thumb over where your hairline met the sensitive skin of the back of your neck immensely enjoying being back at your side. Your hands were clutching the back of his shirt, and your simple touch brought a warm feeling to his chest. You both leaned back as Young K’s chest started to rumble with laughter “You should have waited for me, it would have been easier if I could teach you”, he softly said, pushing your hair back from your face causing you to lightly laugh.

“I wanted to surprise you, but I didn’t get that far anyways. Can’t become a prodigy in one day I guess”. Young K smiled again, promising to himself to help you as much as he could as he put his hand fondly on top of your head.

“You’re doing so good, just move your finger up a little, you’re plucking the c chord instead of the e chord during the chorus, don’t look at me like that i’m trying to help?! I wouldn’t put you on my level, but I think you’re doing really well. I’m hungry now, what do you want? No- What do you want? I am okay with anything just tell me-”

Wonpil

Wonpil was trying his hardest not to think about you. From the way you got excited when you got to see the moon in the cloudy sky to the way you smiled when you saw the neighbor’s cat while getting the mail.

He was happy to be on a trip with her sister, he hadn’t had much time to be with her in recent, well forever really. While you had been invited, you hadn’t been able to attend due to work. Wonpil did his best to keep his mind off you and enjoy the trip, he just hadn’t spent this long without you in a while.

Even so, he still had a fun time with his sister and her boyfriend creating many memories. He didn’t regret it, but he was extremely happy to come back to you. Opening the door to your apartment, he dropped his suitcase by the door, an excited smile tugging at his lips as he traveled through the apartment with his arms spread knowing you would embrace him as soon as you saw him. He felt so giddy, he didn’t even notice the broken keyboard sounds ringing throughout the living space.

His smile fell in a comical way, his face morphing into one of confusion instead. He recognized a broken rendition of “Mary had a little Lamb”, and tilted his head as he opened the door to your room seeing you with really big headphones on your head staring down at the keyboard with the most offended look on your face.

How dare this keyboard not give you its secrets! Wonpil couldn’t help the laugh that escaped his chest, not mocking you, but he just thought you were so cute. He lightly touched your shoulder causing you to jump, and the slight movement of your head caused the headphones to slide off your head. It didn’t matter much. You instantly dove into his arms, pressing the side of your face against his chest.

He felt warmth flood his chest as his hand encased the back of your head while he pressed his lips to the top, closing his eyes in bliss enjoying having you in his arms again. He leaned back from the brace as his eyes flashed with amusement and yours with slight embarrassment. He lightly laughed, eyes crinkling. He cradled your face in his hands, a teasing lilt to his voice, “What were you trying to do, hmm?” He could feel your face grow hot under his finger tips.

“I was just trying to surprise you. I felt bad for not being able to go with you”. He shook his head, hands playfully pinching your cheeks as you whined. “You shouldn’t act that way, I understood from the beginning. It must have been hard for you. Here, come, your lovely boyfriend will make this easier for you”.

“Y/n the keys will not bite prEsS dOWn, no, no keyboards do not have to be oiled, this is a musical instrument not a mechanical vehicle. You are so cute. What am I gonna do with you? No, you can not play the keyboard with your forehead, DO NOT put your foot on the keys. I don’t care if it’s for the vine.

Dowoon

Dowoon was beating himself up. Looking back at what happened a few hours ago made his chest tight. He couldn’t help but wince at the words both of you had thrown at each other. You had been with each other for so long, and when his lovely mother asked him when he would propose, although with good intentions, it put pressure on him.

He was still young. He had mentioned it to you in a joking manner, but there was a misunderstanding and you thought he was blowing it off as he didn’t see a future with you.

Somehow feelings were hurt, and the fight escalated. And Dowoon decided he was a coward because it was when you had started stuttering through your words and avoiding eye contact, he knew. He knew he had pushed you across a line that might not be able to be crossed again.

He panicked. He was really good at doing that wasn’t he? He left. He took a bus and went to the nearest hotel he could find. There he was sitting on the edge of the too perfectly made bed with his head in his hands.

Had he just ruined his precious relationship because he was scared of what the future could or could not hold? Why did he have to run away? Why couldn’t he just stay? Most importantly, how badly had he hurt you?

With a sigh he stood up, and he got on the bus back to your apartment. Staring at the door, the fact you were just on the other side and hurting is what pushed him to open it with the key you had given him. Opening the door, he was met with silence and darkness. Have you already gone? He walked through the apartment, hope dwindling with every step.

Then he heard a soft thump thump thump. His heart seemed to match with it, and as he walked to his studio which held his spare drum set, he thought of what he could say to make it better. Opening the door, he saw you softly hitting the drum with one stick, as if testing the waters and humming along to “When you Love Someone”. Dowoon couldn’t fight the sad smile that broke out on his face, and the absolute warmth that filled his chest.

Why did he ever even doubt your future with him? There was no person more perfect for him than you. He stood next to you, softly taking your hand in his and guiding your hand to the right beat, although a bit broken. When your sad eyes looked up into his, forgiving in nature but still frustrated beyond belief, he knew he could still fix things. You were you, and Dowoon was Dowoon. You always somehow found your way back to each other.

“No no, put your hands higher on the stick, no lower, now higher...a bit lower. No, Y/n drum sticks do not belong in my throat. What do you mean I have no room to talk, I thought we were over the fight. I would marry you in this life and the next! Why are you looking at me like that? I am not cute, I am handsome and overflowing with testosterone. Oooh are those gummies?

203 notes · View notes

hotwings0203 · 3 years ago

Note

as ur irl bestie i am cashing in my favor and am asking- no begging for a dilf damon fic pls <3

😑fine fineee I guess I can take a quick break from writing BNHA stuff for you🙄

CW: NSFW, Damon Albarn being an a-hole, manipulation, gaslighting, language minor stuff like that

The studio itself was pretty spacious, you couldn't lie. As much as you loathed to give this cursed group any more credit, you were hard-pressed to remember the last time you´d been called into such a professional recording booth. You were used to dingy atmospheres, crumbling walls, stained carpet, and even cramped garages at times. It felt like your years of meticulously swaying your hand back and forth on the rosin and tuning your strings until they damn near popped were slowly going down the drain, lost in spaces of screaming adolescent boys and shady market agents. The streets of London were unforgiving for a young musician like you, no room to turn to since others were exactly in the same position as you.

It was by pure coincidence that the day you had played for a local cafe for a small commission, Graham fucking Coxon was sitting in the back of the run-down joint, sipping a murky glass of Bourbon.

You didn't notice him at first, of course. You had simply let the music in your mind travel from your head down to your arms, and allowed it to move through your fingertips to your bow. The serene melody that sang through the air had turned his head to face you, the shitty drink in his hand stopped halfway to his mouth.

Your solo was only a couple of minutes, but the second you were done and packing your bags to head out, the brunette made a beeline for you, blocking your exit.

¨Uh, can I help you?¨ You cock your head and shift your violin case.

¨Yes, you can actually. Listen, I know this is gonna sound a bit straightforward, but I really liked your piece. Did you compose it yourself?¨ He sounds quiet and sounds nervous, with him barely looking you in the eyes.

¨Yeah, I did!¨ You can´t help but beam-it took you several days just to perfect a few meager lines, but in the end you were content with the piece.

¨Wow...that's serious talent right there,¨ He opens the door for you, and you nod before you head out, him trailing behind you as he leaves with you.

¨You make a good amount of money doing small jobs like this?¨ His voice is nasally and low, but with a slightly higher pitch than your typical London accent.

At this, you squint your eyes a bit and turn your head at him. It was nice of him to be interested in your work, but for someone you don't personally know, the idea of talking about your small gigs that merited little to no money was not something you were fond of.

He senses your hesitancy and immediately withdraws. ¨I´m sorry, that was probably rude of me to be so blunt about it. Actually, I don´t think I´ve properly introduced myself.¨ He stops to face you, and you do the same.

¨I´m Graham Coxon. You may or may not have heard of me, but I can assure you that I too enjoy music, as an understatement.¨ He extends a calloused hand and smiles a little bit, adjusting the blocky glasses on his face.

Graham...Coxon? Graham as in....oh, holy shit.

¨No way.¨

¨Er...unfortunately, yes way.¨ His soft voice lilts as he holds back a laugh, and you gape at him.

¨Oh my god!¨ You drop your violin case in the excitement of eagerly returning his handshake. ¨You-you're from Blur! I know you!¨

¨Was from Blur, and ´careful now, don´t wanna ruin your instrument. But listen, I´m kind of in a bind here so I´ll get to the chase. We´re working on a few chords here and there back at the studio, and I´ve been on the lookout for a while for someone who fits our tune. ´Thing is, the deadline for submitting our song is comin´ up fast, so we only have a couple weeks left.¨

You raise your eyebrows, heart pounding in your chest as you listen to his proposition.

¨So I´m thinking, you sound pretty good, it's exactly what we need to fill in our bridge. I´d love it if you came in and played a tune for us. If we like you and you´re cool with it, you could feature on our song.¨

It feels surreal. Were you hearing right? Graham Coxon from Blur asking you to play on his song? This had to be a prank.

¨Ẅait, but you've only heard me once, what if my sound doesn't match what you're actually looking for?¨ You stammer, palms clammy as you wipe them off on your trousers.

¨Well, that's what a rehearsal session is for, lovely,¨ He chuckles nervously and slides his slightly foggy glasses up his nose. ¨So, you wanna give it a go?¨

You think for a moment, biting your lower lip. There wasn't exactly anything stopping you now, was there? I mean, sure, the prospect of playing in front of one of UK's most famous bands was daunting, but this was your chance to finally be recognized!

Taking a deep breath, you pick up your fallen case and nod. ¨Alright, I´m in. When you do wanna meet up?¨

Graham visibility deflates in relief, letting out a shaky exhale. ¨Great. I'll text you the time and place, yeah? The boys and I´ve gotta get a few more things set up, so we´ll be in contact soon.¨

You both exchange numbers, your phone tingling in your hand long after you bid farewell and drive home in a buzz.

When you finally get home to your apartment, you throw your keys onto the counter and flop down onto the mattress. What a fucking day.

So many thoughts bounce around in your addled head. You want to do well, but obviously you don't have their kind of experience in the industry. Should you play more in tune with their song, or continue with your own sound? An idea pops into your head amidst your lunch, a few hours later. Why not just do some more research on the band themselves? Then you'd know exactly what kind of music they're looking for.

The boys and I´ve gotta get a few more things set up.

Oh yeah, who else was in the band? It's not like you didn't know who Blur was at their peak, but you paid more attention to their music rather than their faces. Truthfully, you never really basked in tabloids and newspapers purring about the next big scandal, or the top dogs of Britain´s industry when that stuff was relevant.

You abandon your pathetic sandwich and make your way to your laptop, sliding into a chair and getting down to business. After a few quick searches, you pull up a couple tabs around the name Blur.

Graham Coxon- Recovering alcoholic. Big fight with Damon Albarn.

Alex James- Cute boy turned conservative. Classic case.

Dave Rowntree- Mainly untouched. Became a successful lawyer. Good for him.

Damon Albarn- A fucking mess.

Puffing up your cheeks and putting your hands behind your head, you lean back in your chair. Good god, this man is a wreck. Headlines from decades ago swim in and out of your eyes, loud, obnoxious neon prints of Justine and Damon broken up again? Suede claps back!, or Will the Blur Brothers ever come back to each other? Find out first-hand from Coxon himself!, and worst of all, Albarn relapses again, Damon Albarn from Blur goes head-to-head with Liam and Noel-news flash, the brothers win!

You think you see something about him and a potential wife and child, and that's when you decide it's time to sleep.

After all, there's no point in getting caught up in any of their backstories.You were just there to play a solo and get out. Nosing around in their lives was more trouble than what it was worth, anyways.

Which is exactly what you kept trying to tell yourself as you walked into the modern studio two weeks later, its grey soundproof walls and white floor screaming fancy and rich to you. And fancy and rich didn't come without grit and experience, which you had none of. As if to emphasize your inexperience, you went into the wrong halls twice before you exasperatedly checked your messages with Graham and saw that no, it wasn´t room 311, it was room 113.

Finally, finally, you came across your designated room. The mahogany door was closed, and you placed a hand on the silver knob. You could faintly hear the sounds of a guitar being played from the inside, and it was curiosity above everything else that compelled you to push it open.

From behind the clear window that separated the booth from the recording area, you see them. Graham, Damon, and other men you don't recognize are all in the midst of the song, the same song Graham had texted you the PDF of for the violin notes. You sheepishly take a few steps forward and clear your throat to catch the attention of a bald man leaning back against his chair right in front of the glass. He turns around and you give a weak little wave, clutching your case in the other hand.

¨Hey, I´m here for-¨

¨-Yeah, yeah, Graham told me all about you. Go on ahead and join in, they just started.¨ He pulls a toothpick out from between his lips and gestures to the door of the divider.

You feel your heart pounding in your chest as you make your way through the second door, and the second you step inside meekly, Damon and Graham´s eyes are on you.

Graham continues to play the guitar, only lighting up his eyes and giving you an encouraging nod when you step in, and the other two men on bass and saxophone also give a quick smile in greeting. And Damon…well.

Damon barely acknowledges you.

He continues to sing and stare straight ahead at the wall in front of him as if there's an interesting scene being played out on the grey paint.

You´re unsure of whether to catch his attention and give a proper greeting, but you decide not to as it would interfere with the song. So instead, you quickly grab a nearby chair and stand and set up your rosin and papers.

Your timing is perfect; the bridge is about to come up. Just to be certain, you look up from your poised position and catch the eyes of most everyone except for Damon´s. They all give you a quick thumbs up or an expectant look for your confirmation of playing.

And then, it comes. Damon stops singing, and your cue to sweep your bow across the horse hairs of your strings comes.

Melodious, whole, fulfilling, it was. Graham´s guitar chords harmonized with the tones of your violin, and music that you´ve never dreamed of creating was made by your hands exceptionally.

Everyone was in awe of your raw talent, from the way their gazes were rapt onto your bow, moving back and forth,staying still in some highs and whittling away at the lows. You even thought you saw the producer from inside the booth turn his head towards you from the corner of your eye, but you couldn´ be sure.

Everyone except Damon Albarn.

The song ended a minute later with the signal of a fading out bass, and then there was silence.

¨Right on with that tune.. ´Thought we'd be fucked ova´ if we didn't find someone to take that melody.¨ The bassist with long shaggy hair grinned and you returned one back.

¨Yeah, I was kind of hesitant when Graham ´ere told us he found one to take this position on, but I'm pleased.¨ The saxophone player scratched his chin and hummed his agreement. You felt relief.

Until he spoke.

¨Is this your first time playing?¨

You look incredulously over at him, looking straight on at his face. Sandy hair, lines on his cheeks, slight scruff around his chin, he looked older than his online pictures.

¨Uhh, no?¨ You laugh a little, trying to keep the annoyance out of your voice. ¨If I was, I doubt Graham would think I´m good enough to play with you guys.¨

¨I don't think Graham is the only one who needs to think that.¨ Everyone shifts uncomfortably, looking nervously from Damon to you, and Graham tugs his collar as if the temperature had gone up.

But nonetheless, you don't back down.

¨Oh yeah? How so?¨

¨You played the G-string too high,¨ He deadpans, looking utterly bored amidst oceanic hues.

¨What?¨ You flip your music pages a couple of times until you find the page where you played that part. ¨No I didn´t, I was right on tune-do you even know how to play the violin?¨

¨No,¨ he smirks, and with your blood boiling steadily you open your mouth to argue, but thankfully Graham butts in.

¨Damon, don´t be a prick, she played fine. Unlike you, who fucked up on the 5th verse.¨

The man in question lazily stretches his arms above his head, causing his white tee to rise a few inches over his belly button. You can´t help but glance at the skin-it's smooth, cleanly chiseled with part of his v-line showing, a happy trail rising from the juncture.

¨Oi, sweetheart, eyes up here.¨

You snap your gaze back to his smug face, cheeks burning.

¨I didn´t-¨

¨Sure you didn´t. Just like how I didn't mess up on the 5th verse, and how you didn't ruin the song with your shitty violin, yeah?¨ He simpers, and you almost rise out of your seat to snarl at him before Graham jumps in between you two, scolding a very inappropriately-grinning Damon.

You get up out of your chair and huff, shoving your belongings back into your bag as everyone else packs up, the men bickering and playfully throwing shit at each other.

The producer even congratulates you on your successful first day, and everyone cheers and pounds you on your back, your hair falling in your face and gracefully hiding your 120k watt smile.

Damon shoulders right past you, knocking your case right out of your hands. You grapple with it for a second before it hits the ground, and when it does you whip around and shoot him an icy glare.

He's not even looking at you, he's already out the door.

It's quiet for a moment.

¨Well, there he goes again being a dickhead. Classic Damon, you got.¨ The saxophone player points to the leaving blond and grins sheepishly at you.

¨What's his problem?¨ You ask in disgust, shaking your head as you join the rest of the boys leaving.

¨Uh, well...¨ Graham scratches the back of his head and avoids looking at you. ¨He's always been kind of like that, y´know, so don't take it too personally, but between just us four, his wife´s been on his arse for a bit about um...some...domestic affairs.¨ He finishes lamely, and the other two men guffaw at your raised eyebrow.

You don't have a chance to press further as to ask what domestic affairs, exactly because a loud clap of thunder shakes you all to your cores as you step outside.

¨Aw, come on!¨ You stamp your foot and hold out your hand for confirmation of the raindrops about to drop on you all. ¨I didn't know it was gonna rain today,¨ you grumble.

Graham squints up at the sky and wipes some droplets off his blurred glasses, covering his head with his jacket hood as he begins walking to the parking garage. ¨I´ll see you lot in about a week, yeah? Just keep practicing, good rehearsal we had today!¨ He waves his hand and dashes off.

¨Good job on your first day, Y/N. Fancy the weather on your walk back for us!¨ The sax and bass player bid farewell and also do a sprint to their respective cars, splashing through the puddles and sending muddy water on your pants.

¨Urgh!¨ You raise your hands to try and protect your bottoms but to no avail- London's sewage strikes again.

Sighing in defeat, you walk through the rain towards your car, succumbing to the grimy walk. Unfortunately you didn't think to use the parking garage due to high nerves when you first came in.

You walk for about 5 minutes, the rain drenching your hair and clothes and chilling you to your bones.

Could this day get any more annoying?

Oh, but you should´ve known that it could.

Because right at that moment, a black limo swerves right next to you on the sidewalk, sending a massive wave of gutter water right your way.

You swear loudly and jump back, barely managing to avoid the remnants of the sewage tsunami crossing your feet.

Looking up wildly at the offensive vehicle, you make a fist and flip the window off, your lip curled up into a snarl.

The obsidian glass rolls down.

¨Well that's not very nice, is it? Nasty weather we got going on right now, careful it doesn't get on your clothes.¨

Oh.

¨It's you,¨ you monotone, less than pleased to see his salacious grin at your predicament-which was being soaked to your undergarments in brown muddy water, your hair clinging to your face and your violin case lugging down towards the ground, its weight proving mutiny against you today of all days.

¨In the flesh,¨ Damon beams, and you scowl at his cheery attitude.

¨You almost drowned me, asshole,¨ You turn your nose up in scorn, and he chuckles in his baritone voice.

¨Nah, cant´ve love, I can't drive,¨ he clicks his tongue and jerks his thumb to the seat in front of him, where you assume his chauffeur is.

¨Oh, so it was under your orders that your poor driver practically waterboarded me?¨ ¨Well, yeah, I mean what else do you expect me to do when I see a pretty lady walking so harmlessly in the rain?¨ Your voice catches in your throat for a second from his words and the way his glacial eyes twinkle for a moment, but then he erupts in dry chuckles at your demeanor and you throttle your hesitancy at speaking.

¨Shut up, you're absolutely vile, y´know that?¨ ¨So I´ve been told, but to be honest sweetheart, I´d rather hear that in bed, where I´m used to hearing it. Now are you going to get in or shall I talk about my sexual prowess with you the rest of the afternoon?¨ He opens his door from the inside and mockingly winks at you.

You feign a gag, but still decide to jump in the spacious limo when a flash of lightning lights up the sky.

He scoots back to give you space to sit and adjust your violin case on the seats in front of you, but just as you´re about to close the door, he leans in right next to you and reaches behind you to pull it shut himself.

You´re caught still as he draws close, you´re extended hand frozen in midair as his arm against your back flexes and stiffens with it pulling the door. You can feel his breath against your neck as he exhales, can feel some of his hair tickling against your ear and cheek. You hold your breath, not daring to move lest you accidentally brush up against his proximity.

The loud slam of the door causes you to jump, and he laughs a little at that, signaling his driver to go.

You don't quite face him, your gaze down in your lap as his entire body is facing you, still stuck in its position when he was closing the car door.

¨Not nervous, are you?¨ He murmurs in your ear, and you can´t help it when your whole body shivers at feeling the rumble in his gravelly voice.

¨N-no, I´m not. Do you have to be so close?¨ You stammer, barely giving him a sideways glance which eggs him on, much to your displeasure.

¨Not really. But if you´re not nervous, then it shouldn't be a problem, right?¨ He says quietly and leans around to catch your eye.

Before you can lose your nerve and jump out of the car, you snap at him. ¨You just don´t quit, do you?¨

He finally relents and the side of his pink lips lift lazily as he stretches his knees out and practically manspreads across the expanse of three seats. ¨Nope. Not that you really were against it though, ´could feel your heart pounding a mile a minute sweetheart. Trust me, I´m used to making girls nervous, I would know.¨

You sneer at him. ¨Don´t call me sweetheart, and yeah, I was nervous about getting some disease-ridden prick like you getting close to me. God knows how many STD´s you've contracted from bedding some poor groupies.¨

¨Only one way to find out, right love?¨ He leans his head up to the car ceiling and lets his tousled golden hair flop back, his jawline accentuated by the cream-colored seats contrasting with his tan skin.

You catch yourself staring, and shake your head quickly.

¨You must´ve been more hopped up on heroine than I thought if you think I´d ever fuck a self-absorbed, narcissitic bastard like you.¨

The words leave your mouth before you can stop them, but once they do your eyes widen and you clap a hand over your mouth in horror.

Damon lifts his head and slowly turns to face you, his mouth set in a thin line.

¨A self-absorbed, narcissistic bastard whose limo you're riding in, need I remind you, so I can´t be all that bad. ´Can't say I haven't heard any of that before love, but most girls who say that end up in my bed anyways.¨

You open your mouth to argue but he cuts you off.

¨Although, ´hopped up on heroin´ is a new one. Just exactly how much research have you done about me so far?¨

Your rebuttal dies in your throat. You were caught.

Your ears burn and your face flushes as you bite your lip in embarrassment. Maybe you went too far, and on top of that you let it slip that you knew about him beforehand.

But you refuse to kowtow in humiliation to this idiot, so you think quickly.

¨I doubt you´ve got your head that far up your ass to disregard how half the world was tuning into your personal life when Blur was big, Damon.¨

He looks unimpressed with your excuse, but before he can open his mouth to question you further, you hurry up with another save.

¨Also, where are we going? You never asked me where my car was.¨

Bingo His eyes brighten and he shouts at the driver, harping on about him being a brain-dead idiot for driving in circles the past 10 minutes.

What a save.

*******************

The moment you step into the booth next week, a drumstick is lobbed at you from seemingly nowhere. You yelp and hold your case up, blocking the weapon as it bounces off your makeshift shield. You bring the case down and shoot a glare towards the only man you know capable of acting so childishly at his grown age.

But he´s already scrolling through his phone, looking for a measure to start from.

¨You´re late.¨

¨Hardly,¨ you mutter, glancing at the clock on the wall. Two minutes past shouldn´t be an excuse for having a drumstick pick out your eye.

¨Good to see you again, Y/N,¨ Graham pipes up softly, sending you an apologetic glance from Damon to you and you stick out your tongue in faux annoyance.

The other two members of your group greet you as well, and you all begin practice. Notes begin harmonizing together, voice and sound coinciding to make music you´ve swayed your hips and nodded your head to on blue nights.

It´s a hot day, humidity clinging to your skin akin to the perspiration hanging off your forehead, and halfway through the song you decide to take off your sweater. You´re wearing a white tank top underneath, nothing too revealing save for the slight dip in the V-neck, but you couldn't care less about modesty at the moment when your fingers were literally slipping in their grasp on your sweat-slicked bow.

During a quick break in your part of the song, you slip off your sweater and fan yourself out. It feels good, but you feel a pair of eyes staring at you. Following the laser gaze, you turn your head to face Damon, but he´s nose-deep in the lyrics sheet, warbling about a broken love or friendship.

Huh, must´ve been imagining it.

Your solo comes up, and you prepare yourself for tackling the notes to your best ability, keeping up with Graham´s rapid guitar pace. Sweat continues to build on everyone´s vicinity when the rapid movement of arms waving around their own instrument causes more body heat to suffocate you all.

Miraculously, the song finishes, and you collapse in your seat like the rest of the men, panting and wiping slick off your foreheads. You reach for a bottle of water on the floor and unscrew the lid, grimacing at its lukewarm temperature but drinking it nonetheless.

For the second time, you have an unnerving feeling of being watched. This time, you whip your head to the side and catch him staring straight at you.

Damon´s face is flushed, his hair tousled, his rose colored glasses steamed up from the muggy aura in the room. His denim jacket is hanging off one shoulder, the rest of his torso covered with a sheer wife beater that accentuates his chiseled dad-body.

But he just stares you down, saying nothing. You frown at him a little bit and shift your body away from him, feeling vulnerable to his laser-gaze. His eyes darken, but Graham speaks, cutting him off from whatever he was about to say.

¨That was pretty good, you lot. Greg, Taz, hold off on the third beat of the fourth measure. We´ve gotta crescendo slightly-¨

¨Y/N, do you have a job?¨

Damon's voice cuts off Graham, and everyone falters as they look at him and then you in surprise.

¨I don´t know what you mean,¨ you respond coolly, knowing that whatever he was about to say wasn't good.

¨I mean, do you have a job? Because as far as I know, most people who work don't dress like whores at their job.¨

His eyes travel from your face down to your slight cleavage, and you sputter in rage as the rest of the boys shift uncomfortably.

¨Damon, for god's sake what´re you on about?¨ Graham asks wearily, taking his glasses off and rubbing his shiny neck.

¨I could ask you the same thing, actually. Because as far as I know, you've fucked enough women in your lifetime that one would think you could keep it in your pants for five minutes without acting like a twelve-year-old. Oh, but unless that´s too professional for you? I guess you´re not as serious about your work environment as you claim.¨ you laugh, and the sax player, Greg, snorts into his water bottle.

Damon sneers, ¨How could I forget, you actually have done your research about my life and sexual endeavors, what a cute little fangirl you are. If you wanted an autograph, you could've just asked, sweetheart.¨

¨Go fuck yourself,¨ you snap. ¨You´re all wearing wife-beaters anyways, what's the difference?¨

Damon starts again but Graham claps his hands loudly, startling you all.

¨Enough, both of you! What's gotten into you? Need I remind you that our song is due in less than two weeks? We need to finish this shit and get on with it. Stop acting like children.¨

You mumble under your breath and Damon shoots a dark look to his childhood friend, but the brunette doesn't back down, and continues to give advice on how to improve their song. You don´t look at Damon the rest of the session out of pure spite, but that doesn't stop him from shamelessly staring straight at you, right until it's time to leave.

The second Graham checks his watch and exclaims that it's a quarter past twelve already, you´re already bolting out of your seat and shoving your violin in its case, eager to get out of the disgustingly hot room.

Fortunately, this time you had the right idea to park in the garage like everyone else to avoid any other unwanted encounters, but unfortunately while it was nice to not be waterboarded on your walk, it wasn´t enough to stop said unwanted encounters from occurring.

Take right now, for instance.

As you stumble to your car in the blistering weather, your energy depletes faster and faster, causing you to be light headed. Practice was already tough enough in the sweltering heat, but after Damon's little scene you don't have any energy to even walk.

You crash blindly into your car, the metal of the doors burning your skin as you make contact with the handle. You hiss and jerk back, swaying slightly as your head fogs up. You can barely see, you feel like your clothes weigh a ton on you, so you slide down the vehicle and sit up against the tires, throwing your head back against the car and groaning. The idea of unlocking your doors and sitting in the seat where no doubt several temperatures higher will be settling on the dashboard and in the front row is nauseating.

Weather-2

You-0

You don't know the building well enough to know where a vending machine is, and even if you shot Graham a text, you don't have enough energy to wander around and scout for it.

And lo and behold, from a distance, a figure approaches. You squint as it draws nearer, and let out a laugh as the features come into familiarity.

The heat must be getting to you worse than you thought, because you´re certain you´re hallucinating Damon Albarn of all fucking people swaggering towards you, one hand holding his denim jacket over his shoulder, and a shit-eating grin on his face as he comes to stand in front of you.

All you can do is pant like a dog, looking up at him with unimpressed eyes.

¨Oi, G-String. ´Brought you some water.¨ he holds out a hand, and you choose to ignore the offensive nickname, insead noticing the large bottle in it, cold condensation covering its expanse.

Your eyes widen and you lick your lips unconsciously, holding your hands out for it.

Damon watches your tongue poke out and loses focus before snapping back to reality and moving his arm above your head. You pout and try to reach for it again, but he laughs and holds it even higher.

You glare and turn your head away from him, suddenly remembering how he embarrassed you earlier.

¨Go away. I don't want it anymore. You´re an asshole.¨ you mumble, perspiration hanging off your lip as you lick the salty beads away once again.

Damon´s eyes never leave your mouth as he listens to you and watches the pink appendage make its appearance again, and his mouth hangs open slightly unbeknownst to you for a second. You cross your arms and glare at the empty parking lot, silently willing him to go away.

He snaps back into focus yet again and shakes his head at you. ¨Oh come on love, I´m just teasing. You look like you´re about to die anyways, might as well make this your last meal-er, drink I mean.¨

¨I´m not taking anything from a complete dickhead who enjoys harassing women about their clothes. You know, for such a womanizer, you act pretty clueless about how comments like that would make a girl feel. No one else but you had an issue with it, or rather, had the audacity to point it out.¨ You cough at the last word, your dry throat and heavy head making it harder to talk.

He sighs and crouches down, balancing on the balls of his feet. He pops open the cap and gently turns your chin towards his face, much to your surprise. You´re genuinely too weak to protest, but when you look at his concerned face, eyebrows scrunched up and accentuating the lines on his forehead, you don't think you'd want to turn away even if you could.

He coaxes your agap mouth even more open by dragging a rough thumb down over your lips, and you obediently open your mouth, mesmerized by his eyes. His movements are soft and slow, as if you were a fidgety rabbit about to run off at the slightest touch. He scoots closer, right over in front of you as you simply gaze up at him, allowing him to pour cool water down your throat, quenching your bone-dry palate.

For a couple of seconds, water floods your mouth but all you can do is stare up at him. The light rays are reflecting off his back, casting a yellow glow around his silhouette and he almost looks like an angel. His hair is mussed as if he'd spent the day running his hands through the golden locks, and the scruff on his face peeks through soft-looking skin.

¨Swallow, or I'll really waterboard you this time,¨ he says lowly, chuckling a bit as he catches you staring so adamantly right in his face. You jerk back to consciousness and swallow hastily, accidentally choking on the gulp in your rush.

He laughs even more and lets go of your chin much to your disappointment as he adjusts himself to sit next to you, not seeming to mind the scorching car metal. The absence of his hand on your face leaves a cold, empty feeling in your heart despite the heated blush on your cheeks

¨You´ll burn yourself,¨ you mumble, lolling your head over to look at him.

But he looks straight ahead and shrugs casually. ¨Not any more than you.¨ You both sit in silence for a few minutes, occasionally sipping from the bottle he passes towards you and watching cars go by.

¨You didn't answer my question. Why do you harp on me in the studio? You act like a normal human being here.¨

Damon looks thoughtfully at a white sedan passing by, then speaks.

¨As I´m sure Graham has blabbed to you already, I´ve been having some...trouble with the missus, let's say.¨

You say nothing and raise a questioning eyebrow.

¨For the shitty attitude,¨ he mutters and swipes the bottle from your hand, taking a large swig himself.

¨And, like you said earlier, I am an asshole. Of course I´ll enjoy harassing pretty women over their revealing clothes,¨ he smirks and gives you a once over.

There it was again, pretty woman.

You scowl and get up to leave, but what he says stops you in your tracks.

¨Taz was lookin´ at you,¨ he says quietly, suddenly very interested in the now-empty bottle. ¨´Didn't like it, but I couldn't say anything to him. Graham likes him too much.¨

Huh. Maybe the pair of eyes you felt back in the room didn't only belong to Damon.

He cracks a small smile and looks up at you, his face adorably innocent and wide as he sheepishly admits, ¨I´m used to butting heads with blokes like him for women.¨

You jerk back up to your feet, brushing off any insinuation he was giving and pat his knee awkwardly, ignoring the fire now igniting once again in your chest.

¨Thanks for the water, I needed it. You might wanna move if you don't want to get run over by my car.¨ You reach down and pick up your case as Damon clambers to his feet.

He looks amused as you fumble for your keys, nervously turning the lock and sitting in the hot car, obviously eager to get away from his intimidating gaze.

¨I´ll see you next week, yeah?¨ You laugh breathlessly and roll your window down to call out to him.

He says nothing, but merely cocks his head at you, his eyes now obscured by the rose-colored glasses he puts over his eyes. He waves a little and watches as you drive away a little too fast.

But as it turns out, you don't see him next week.

******

It was just your luck that one of the cutest guys from your work asked you out on the very same week you had practice with the boys. You contemplated moving the date to another time, but...you deserved to have some fun time off too, right? It's not like it would make too much of a difference in your skill, anyways, you´ve gotten all the strings down and such.

So, you decide to go on this date. It goes well, the dude was cute, dorky, lacked a little pizzazz but nothing a bottle of fancy red wine and a night of movies couldn´t coax out of him. It honestly wasn't anything too big, you exchanged numbers and made plans to meet up again soon. After parting ways, you threw yourself back into the regular regime of practicing your violin and meticulously listening to the booth recording every night, just so you could perfect your part to a T.

The day came where you had to go back to practice, and you were ready, veins pumping with determination to make these last few sessions the best you´ve played yet. You texted Graham that you´d be there soon, and he gave you a thumbs up in return. When you finally arrived in front of the room, you were 10 minutes late. The boys were already playing, by the sound of the percussion booming outside the door. You grimace and take a deep breath, turning the handle in and hurrying inside the booth.

No one really spared a glance at you, so you assumed you were okay in terms of punctuality. You opened your case and started strumming your strings, counting the measures and beats until it was your turn. Damon´s voice rang out, melodious and airy as ever, dropping octaves and floating on soprano tones. Your bow moved across his words, accenting his tones and adding emphasis to his sorrowful song. And then, after a couple of minutes, it was done.

¨Alright you lot, pretty good for today. ´Specially you, Y/N, you caught up pretty quick, I expected you to slack behind but I'm actually impressed.¨ Graham flashed you a nervous grin and you beamed back at him in return.

¨Yeah, speaking of, why were you gone last week? I expected someone who makes below the poverty line would actually want to work for their money,¨ Damon chuckles a little meanly.

You feel your smile drop a smidge.

¨Well actually Damon, not that it's any of your business, but I went on a date.¨ You smirk at him, enjoying the way his mouth opens slightly and moves silently.

But he regroups quickly and glares at you. ¨None of my business? The deadline is only a few days away, and you´re whoring yourself out and going on dates? I guess you´re not as professional as Graham thought.¨

Everyone shifts uncomfortably, and blood rushes to your face, anger clouding your mind. Why was he being like this? He was fine the last time you saw him, you actually thought maybe he was going to change the way he addressed you.

Graham speaks up. ¨Damon. You´re overreacting man, I gave her the okay, and she played fine today. No harm done, seriously, there's no need for that kind of language towards her.¨

¨Actually, there absolutely is a need. If I knew you were going to invite a prostitute as our sub-in then I would´ve never agreed to have her here. Didn´t know you were so low on money Y/N, I would´ve spared you a couple pounds.¨ He sneers.

¨Damon!¨

You laugh bitterly and rise to your feet. ¨Oh that's rich, coming from the man who fucked half the continent just because he couldn't get over one girl. No wonder every real woman in your life including your wife wants to leave, nothing is ever good enough for you. Except heroin maybe.¨

The words leave your mouth before you can take them back, and there's a pin drop silence as if a bomb had been dropped. In a way, it kind of did.

Damo glares at you. Everyone is holding your breath, including you.

¨Get out.¨

¨Hey,-¨ Taz tries to gently interject but Damon throws the mic at him.

¨I said get the fuck out. You´re not practicing with us anymore, you can pack your shit and leave.¨

Tears brim at the corners of your eyes, and you choke out a small ¨Fine.¨

You hear Graham berating him behind you as you fly through the door, telling him that they need you, it's too late to change people, but the words jumble in your ears as the door slams shut. You don't hear what Damon says, if he even says anything, and you aren't interested in his comebacks right now.

It's only when you leave the car, tears streaming down your face in rage and embarrassment that you groan to yourself, your hands reaching an empty seat with one foot out the door-

You forgot your violin case.

************

It's nighttime.

The crickets chirp as you creep silently through the parking garage, the soft thud of your shoes echoing a lot louder than you wanted in the empty lot. The studio itself wasn't closed, but you were sure Damon must have informed the manager there not to let an ex-musician like you back in there.

Wearing a black hoodie and black pants was a smart move- you blended in with the shadows well. The doors weren't locked, and you hiss out a small ¨yesss¨ as you slip inside the mostly dark building. Needless to say, you were proud of yourself for navigating through the windings pitch-black hallways to your old booth.

Testing the handle lightly, you sigh out in relief when that too gives way. Unfortunately though, the second the door shuts behind you, you immediately stumble forward and fall.

The room is dark, darker than the other hallways so you can barely see your hands. The only source of light you´re granted is the dim red bulb on top of the booth door. And speaking of, that's exactly where you need to go...which proves to be harder when you keep bumping into random shit and cursing when you feel potential bruises forming on your shins.

Miraculously you stagger through the next door towards where you last sat, and blindly feel around the floor and chairs for your violin case. You feel nothing there, but panic starts settling in your heart when you can't find it.

¨Looking for something?¨

You scream and lurch backwards, knocking your head into some kind of stand. Groaning, you rub your head and hold a hand on your racing heart as you squint into the dim red room, placing the voice to the person.

¨D-Damon?¨

¨In the flesh sweetheart. ´Knew you'd come back for this, s´just my luck I came back to get it tonight so I could give it to you personally in case you wanted to be stubborn. But this is even better than I could´ve hoped.¨

You make out his silhouette in the obsidian abyss in front of you. He's sitting with knees spread on a chair, a few feet in front of you as he leans his head back on the wall. Your precious violin case is being held hostage in his arms, and it's the absolute love you have for the brittle instrument that propels you to your feet and moves you to get the hell out instead of interrogating him.

¨What, so you were just here the whole time listening to me falling around like an idiot?” You laugh incredulously, and you see the area of his shoulders move up and down.

¨Was pretty funny to watch, honestly. You sound cute when you curse.¨ He stands up to his fullest height now, the red light bouncing off his back, giving him a sort of demonic halo.

You knew it was actually time to leave when you felt those stupid butterflies in your stomach rise up again.

¨Right, well, I´ll be on my way then. Good luck with your song and whatever, I´ll just take the case...¨ You trail off as your extended hand is left in midair, no violin case reaching it.

He cocks his head at you. ¨Why are you in such a rush to leave?¨

You can´t help the scoff that escapes you.

¨Are you serious? You were such an absolute dickhead to me this afternoon, you said all sorts of horrible things to me, and you even fired me for Christ's sake! I want nothing to do with you, so could you please give me my case back so I can go?¨

He's silent for a moment before answering. ¨Are you done yet?¨

It isn´t just the light that's making you see red now.

¨Fuck you, honestly.¨ You whirl around and stomp towards where you guess the door is, ignoring the clatter behind you and bingo you locate the handle, but as soon as you turn it-

A hand reaches from behind you and pulls the ajar door shut.

¨Don´t go. I´m sorry.¨

You´re absolutely still as you feel him towering over you, his arm dangerously close to your midriff as his hand remains on the knob.

His voice is low, and you can feel him breathe against your neck, mere inches away. You can´t help the involuntary shiver that passes through you, and he feels it too, inhaling deeply when he gets close to your ear.

¨You smell so good.¨

¨Leave me alone, Damon,¨ you whisper, your voice catching in your throat from the overwhelming onslaught of emotions passing through you.

He breaths in and slowly lets his hand rest on your side.

¨I can't do that. You know why. You have to have known by now.¨

You tremble in his touch, yet allow his hands to wander down to your hip, the other coming around in a sort of hug to pull you closer to him.

¨We can´t.¨

¨Sure we can.¨

You can feel his erection bumping against your ass.

¨You´re not worth this.¨

¨I´ll make myself worth it.¨

And as soon as he latches onto the back of your neck, you´re like putty in his hands, a moaning mess as he sucks galaxy-colored hickies on your skin. You can feel yourself grow wetter as he shoves his hands up your shirt and teasingly pulls down the bridge of your bra, letting the weight of your tits fill up his hands appreciatively. He starts rolling your hardened buds in between his skilled calloused fingers, and you whine and throw your head back when you feel him rut against your ass, panting raggedly in your ear.

You rub your thighs together, desperate for some form of friction as he squeezes your tits, and then letting one hand ghost across the expanse of your stomach, down to brush against the rim of your panties. Damon chuckles meanly in your ear when you buck against the stilled hand over your mound.

¨You want this?¨ He lightly nips your ear. He smells like old spice and sandalwood.

You nod desperately, frustrated with him not giving you his thick fingers already.

But it's not enough for him. ¨No no, pretty girl, use your words now. I´ve barely touched you yet and you´re already moaning like a wanton little slut for me? And here I was thinking you weren't that easy.¨

You stop jerking your hips and blood rushes to your face at his insulting words. You try to move out of his grip, huffing and regretting the whole thing but he outright laughs now and spins you around, tugging you forward until your chest is slotted against his. You pout at him and look away, but he's quick to grasp your chin and pull you in for a rough yet sensual kiss.

Pushing you backwards against the wall, he deepens the lip-lock, tracing his tongue over your lips, nipping at the soft flesh and darkening his eyes when you whimper and look up at him.

He knows what he´s fucking doing when he again drops his hand under your pants and over your panties, his other palm wound up firmly through your hair. He pulls your head back and lets you breathe for a second from his kiss of death before he speaks again.

¨I didn't hear an answer, slut. Do you want this?¨ He leans forward until his nose brushes against your neck, flicking his tongue out to taste your saccharine flesh.

You tremble against his firm body when he pushes his pelvis against you, letting you feel how hard he is for you.

It doesn't matter anymore. Maybe he was right, maybe you were just an easy slut putting up a facade for him, but when his clothes erection grinds up against your pussy you can't care less.

¨Y-yes, yes, ´want you, please,¨ you pant, frantically gripping the back of his cropped hair as his head descends to mark your neck again.

¨What a good girl,¨ he whispers, finally allowing his digits to oh-so-slowly trace over your mound, pressing down harder when you jerk against him. He finds your wet clit and flicks it a few times, snickering when you gasp and moan. Your body writhes in place but he holds you literally between a rock-or, wall- and a hard place, preventing you from scampering off.

He drums his fingers against your folds, paying no attention to the way you grip his head tighter against you, silently begging him to go further.

But he relents eventually and retires from just pushing and prodding your folds, allowing his slicked fingers to slowly dive into your drooling hole. You whimper and bite back a string of curses when you feel him fill you completely, scraping against your walls for that one special spot.

His mouth moves off your neck and he rises to face you, a stupid smug grin on his wet lips, his eyelids lowered and trained on you. You flush at his lustful expression and gently push his head away, not wanting to accept his victory yet.

¨My fingers are literally fucking you right now, and you still won´t let me look at you? What, too embarrassed you couldn't continue being a stone-cold bitch for long?¨

You open your mouth to snap back but right at that moment he curls his fingers and grazes your G-spot, simultaneously grounding his wet palm against your clit.

With a loud gasp and the sluttiest moan you´ve ever made, you cum hard, your mouth open in a silent scream and your tongue hanging out like a bitch in heat as you do so. You fall forward against him.

You don't even need to look up to know that he has a shit-eating grin on his face.

¨What was that sweetheart? Sorry, ´couldn't hear you over those slutty moans. I think even the pornstars I´ve been with would give you a standing ovation if they heard what you just sounded like.¨

Your words are slurred as you curse nonsense at him, yet you´re still gripping his forearms to keep a hold on yourself. Your ears are ringing and you see spots as you come down from your climax, and surprisingly enough, Damon holds you close and doesn't let you slip down to the ground as you expected to when your knees start to give out.

Instead, he lifts you up quite easily and carries you over to a table in the corner of the room. You don´t know how he even navigates his way through the dimly lit room, but you suppose after almost half a lifetime in studios he knows his way around.

You offer no resistance as he sets you down gently and begins to lift your shirt off of your body. You manage to lift your arms weakly up in the air for easier access to stripping, but when he starts to kneel down to take your pants off you stop his hands at your knees and look at him with scrunched eyebrows.

He stops and looks up at you. His eyes aren't so darkened anymore, they´re wide and imploring, probably noticing your hesitation.

¨Damon, I...¨ You trail off as he maintains eye contact with you and slowly lowers his pursed lips to your calf, lightly pecking his way up to your knees and ensuring that you´re watching his every move.

Your breathing increases again as his pink appendage darts out, his saliva cooling on your exposed thighs. He sucks on the plush skin and turns his head upwards to face you.

You want to run your hands through his hair.

¨You have a wife,¨ You breathe.

¨Not for tonight I don´t.¨

Your voice gets caught in your throat at that. He positions his hands at the side of your knees, fingers curling around the hem of your pants in a second attempt.

¨Let me make you feel good, love.¨

His answer is in the form of your hand reaching for his collar and pulling him up into a standing position until he towers over your seated form, once again breath stolen in a heated kiss.

Damon fumbles with his zipper as you shove your pants off, fully ready for him now, your dampened panties solid evidence of your need for him.

He pulls his cock out and it bounces out, slapping up against his stomach.

You do a double take. The tabloids were right. He was absolutely huge.

It was disgusting almost, it was insulting really. How the fuck could he be that big? You lose count of how many inches he is when you start to get light headed, realizing with a jolt that he plans to put that monster inside you.

And fuck, why did it have to be so pretty too? Normally you wouldn´t use the word pretty to describe a dick, but fuck, that´s the only appropriate word that came to mind as you admired the white flesh as it mixed in with a dull pink flush turning into an angry shade of red as your eyes progressed up to his tip...which was soaked with precum, mind you.

He was neatly shaven everywhere, including his plush balls. No wonder he got to fuck half the continent.

Damon notices your gawking and smiles lazily, taking a fist around his prick and stroking lethargically up and down.

¨You gonna just stare at it all day or are you going to spread those cute legs for me?¨

Spoken like a true middle aged fuck-boyman.

You look up at him beseechingly, thoroughly intimidated by his length. He merely scoffs, winking at you when he wrenches your tightly closed knees apart.

It's almost like he falls into a trance when he presses his now-naked torso against your chest, when he slots himself between your legs and drags his tip through your sloppy folds and up onto your clit. His mouth falls open slightly and he moans when your juices coat his dick, making it slippery and easy to push the first few inches ever so slightly into your spasming cavern.

He can't help but want more, need more as he practically smothers his weight onto you, forcing you to lie back on the table and letting your legs dangle off the edge. He hunches over you and thrusts minutely into your pulsing folds, groaning when you whine and lace your fingers around his neck and tangle your legs around his back, dragging him impossibly close into you.

For a moment it´s just the sound of you two panting and moaning like inexperienced teenagers, and a zing of pride zips up your spine at the realization that Damon Albarn, one of the world's most renowned playboy is whining and humping against your pussy, reduced to nothing at your hands.

He takes your hands from around his neck and grips your wrists, forcing them above your head on the table. He leans down and kisses you, hard. You give him back the same energy when your hips move up and down along his length, pushing your inviting hole towards his eager and jumping dick.

¨Pretty little girl,¨ he murmurs against your lips, and you nip his bottom lip playfully in retaliation. He slowly starts to sink himself into you, and you practically purr at the feeling of his veiny member dragging against your sensitive walls until he stops.

You look at him questioningly, and blanch when you see the mischievous glint in his cobalt eyes.

¨I want you to count for me.¨

¨Count…?¨ You shake your head in confusion and he pulls out, making you groan in annoyance.

¨I want you to count every inch I put inside you. Unless your slutty mouth can't even do that? I'd be surprised if you couldn´t, you usually have so much shit to say.¨ His voice is low yet teasing, and a shiver passes through you when the rumble of his chest vibrates against your nipples.

¨F-fine, I´ll count.¨

He hums in approval and regroups, guiding his length into your awaiting pussy once again.

It´s almsot torture how slow he goes, and your toes curl at how vivid the sensation is at this pace.

You almost forget to do what he asks until he ducks his head down and teeths your bud.

¨Ah, fuck! One!¨ You yelp, writhing to get away from his lecherous gaze and hold on your poor tit.

He tuts and licks the swollen area until the pain subsides a bit, and then he continues to push.

¨T-two,¨ you moan and let your head fall back. It's unfair how tightly he´s holding your reins-you want him to plow you down, not take his sweet time in this punishment.

¨Damon, can´t you go any faster? Please, I want y-¨

¨-I didn't take you for a masochist, Y/N, but I´m happy to play around with these cute tits if you want to bitch more.¨

Your scowl is cut off when he suddenly shoves two more inches into you, and you mewl loudly at being filled so much.

¨Three! Four! Fuck, oh god, please,¨ you babble nonsense as he curses above you, his form shaking in an effort not to push all the way in.

¨Doing so good sweetheart, you´re almost halfway,¨ he smirks and you gape at him in disbelief.

Halfway?

Five, six, seven, eight, and nine go painfully slow, and by the time he´s fully sheathed inside you, plush balls pressed against your ass, you´re an incoherent, drooling mess.

Your hair is in your face, your cheeks are flushed, and your body bounces up and down as he begins to rock inside you, finally giving you what you want.

His name is chanted like an obscene prayer from your mouth as he grunts and shakes the table. Your legs are wobbly and unable to do anything except press him tighter against you to the point where he can barely move back. The skin of his stomach slaps against yours, his balls slap against the crevice of your ass, and your pussy practically sloshes with every stroke in and out.

He fists your hair with one hand and pulls your neck up to meet his searching lips, his other hand holds your wrists fast against the table. You want to touch him, you want to explore your body as he has conquered yours but he doesn't let you feel anything else apart from the rapid thrusts inside your battered body.

Damon switches positions and lifts the back of your knees up and pushes them forwards until they meet your chest. He lets his body weight rest on the back of your thighs as he pulls out and pushes back impossibly close inside you, closer than he did in missionary.

You sob with need as he plunges into you and reaches a higher spot than before, his tip grazing your cervix. He pounds into you, and you thrust your hips up to fuck back into him, calling out his name as if he were your god.

It´s a good thing the rooms are soundproof.

You feel your second climax comes when he paves way through your tight walls and batters your uterus. It doesn´t hurt so much as feel intense, and your choked moans become panting gasps when he brings a hand down to swirl his thumb over your aching clit.

¨You´re not going to meet with that prick from your work again, yeah? Say it. Say it if you want me to let you cum.¨ He could have been speaking an alien language for all you knew. Your poor addled brain didn't pick up anything except for the word ¨cum¨, and you were a goner.

¨Yes, yes, anything you say, anything you want, just please let me-¨

And oh he does.

It comes over you like a tidal wave, your mind going blank, your eyes seeing white as your legs shake from your earth-shattering orgasm. You feel like you´re going down a rollercoaster, and you never want to stop dropping.

Distantly, you hear him groan and say your name. You can feel pulsing in your filled walls, with what you assume is his ropes of cum. It feels like when you came, it practically squeezed all his cum out with your clenching.

He lets out a shaky breath and falls forward, his nose inches from yours, his breath puffing in your face.

Your eyes are glazed over, but you´ve never seen anything more clearly before.

Maybe Damon Albarn really was worth it.

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