#and its the same with other instruments; someone who plays guitar would hear guitar at the front and be picking out the chords and fingers

[dakrapatops]

fascinated by the way different people hear music

[tokiwarcube]

I always wondered what the boys would think if their s/o was in a band (the genre is up to you) and they have the same position in the band as the boys. This has been a thought that won’t leave me alone, help me!!

P.s I love your writings for these 5 silly men !! :)

Aww, thank you so much!! I absolutely fell in love with this prompt -- and I had an absolute blast writing it! Now I will Also be thinking about this forever, haha. Enjoy! <3

(Implied NS/FW warning for Pickles' section!)

Nathan Explosion

My simple, multi-platinum krillionaire rockstar — for as much as he daydreams about what life would have been like if he got to live like a regular jack-off, it’s just not the path for him. So dating another famous lead vocalist? Right up his alley.

He actually likes it more than he thought — it’s nice to bounce lyrics off of you, and vice versa. Toying with pitch, cadence, and intonation, all the different vocal techniques without judgement of sounding silly… Your halls are always alive with the sound of music… even if the subject is about death and murder, it’s its own form of magic.

But singing at home and singing in concert are two very, very different beasts. He wasn’t prepared for how intense you could be on stage, with the band to back you up. Your confidence as you stride, growling so mean he can feel it in his blood before perking back up to bounce away? All of your little stunts? Half of him is taking notes for their next show, and half of him is utterly starstruck. Your eyes dart over to him every now and again, smiling when you notice his wide eyes. His breath hitches when you throw a little wave to him in response, and he can’t help the breathless “holy shit” that falls from his lips.

You’re not as popular as Dethklok, but you couldn’t tell that from inside the venue walls — with how easily you command the crowd, he’s certain you were a siren in a past life. Or now. You could tell everyone in this room to jump off a bridge, and they would, he’s certain of it.

That would make a good song, actually…

Pickles the Drummer

Pickles has a pretty sizable repertoire of instrument proficiency — bass, guitar, keys… a brief stint with an alto sax, as a bit… and currently, drums. He’s got a soft spot in his heart for all of it, each instrument representing a specific era of his life, but he’s found himself enjoying the drums the most. It’s strong, supportive — every song needs a beat! It takes a specific personality to play drums well, and it’s one that he both embodies within himself, and covets when in others.

This is all to say — he finds it very hot that you play drums.

And as a man who appreciates a nice set of legs, he very much likes the effects drumming has on your calves. Your calves might be sore after a long practice session, but that’s nothing compared to the bites he’ll leave later in the night.

He also loves to watch you play — sweat rolling down the column of your throat as you raise your hands above your head for another well-timed strike, lost in the rhythm… Woof.

You’ve kind of gotta beat him back with a stick while on tour if you ever want to go out for drinks after a show — if he had it his way, he’d be spending the post-concert glow in the hotel, letting you know just how much he liked your performance.

Skwisgaar Skwigelf

Anyone looking in would assume this would be a point of competition, but he actually really loves having someone he can talk technical with! Despite being in Dethklok, he doesn’t really get to talk guitar often — Toki, Murderface, and Pickles can play, sure, but the former two don’t give a fuck about technique, and Pickles just doesn’t care about it enough to chat about it outside of the studio.

He loves hearing about all of the little musical decisions you’ve contributed to in each song — don’t think he didn’t catch the time signature change there. Just a single bar, why? Or this section here, that was a reprise of the first song in the album — how are they connected? He catches all the little details, and he wants to know all about them. In this same vein, he’s also great to bounce ideas off of when you’re in a rut… but be careful! His ideas are damn-good, and at this rate, he might just need a spot in the writer’s credits.

It’s very fun to just sit down and jam with him, passing the melody back and forth as your improvised tune grows. He calls it practice — and in a sense, it is — but really, he just likes playing with you.

He pushes to have your tours alternate with Dethklok’s so he can be at all of your shows, and vice versa — you have his full attention during your solos, and he’s not above slapping the boys to get them to shuts up so he can hear you in all of your glory.

He’s pretty stationary on stage — such is the downside of working with a bunch of uncoordinated dumbasses. (He is not exempt from this.) But if you have the agility and focus to bounce around on stage while playing? Oh, he didn’t think he could fall in love any further. He didn’t think he was capable of being starstruck, but you’ve proven him wrong tenfold. He’ll happily brave a couple thousand rabid fans for the pit experience — sorry to all the people stuck behind his towering self, but being backstage is nothing compared to barrier. The flashing lights, choking fog and towering flames only make you look more beautiful than ever, and he can’t help but reach out to you when you waggle your fingers at the crowd.

Personally offended if you don’t throw him at least one pick on tour. He does not care that he is 1.) Dating you, and 2.) Has limitless access to your stash. It’s the principle.

You wear each other’s picks on necklaces <3

Toki Wartooth

You play rhythm too? Wowee! You’re so good, though — how are you not playing solos?

He is completely gobsmacked by the fact that not only are you not the lead guitarist, but that you don’t care to be, either. I mean, he has Skwisgaar to compete against — and as loathe as he is to say it, it’s a pretty fucking high bar to surpass. But you? You could easily play lead! You just don’t want to? What?

He doesn’t really get it, but he writes it off as just you being humble. Beyond that, your similarity doesn’t really play too big of a role in your shared lives! But when concert season rolls around, he’s insistent about hanging out at barrier, just so he can see what it’s like to be at one of your shows. And then, then, that’s when he gets it.

You never seem to stand still, bouncing this way and that, playing in ways he never even thought possible. You don’t need to play solos to wow the crowd — hell, he’s been practically raised by the most popular band in the world, but with you in front of him now, he feels like just another one of your adoring fans itching at the chance to even be seen. Nobody cheers louder than Toki, and he’s insistent on going to each and every one of your shows.

After show from here on out he’ll interlock hands with you, congratulating you on yet another show well-done. He traces the callouses on your fingertips, heart swelling with giddiness at dating such a badass guitarist.

William Murderface

Finally, someone else who appreciates a good bass line. A band is nothing without the bass, especially metal, and it’s nice to talk to someone else who understands that. Especially after being AJFA’d out off all their most recent albums.

Playing bass is a very thankless job — you have to support the entire band, giving them structure and direction without any of the thanks that the rhythm guitar or the drums get. The most, and I mean the most that he gets, is a solo at the end of the show. Which is fun, but you know… it’s very much a job that you take because you love the big picture, not the details.

That’s his point of view, anyways. Because the second he sees you in-show, his whole world gets flipped on his head.

You have a very confident poise on stage — unshakeable, much like the deep notes that you pluck from the instrument. And yet, you command attention from the crowd effortlessly. It’s like you were made for this — all long strides and sneaky smiles as you move around on stage. And despite the eccentricity of your fellow bandmates — a very energetic show, he’s noticed — you still draw a sizable amount of attention from the packed arena, and man does he wish he was in the pit right now so he could get that sly little smile head-on. And huh, maybe bass can be fun, after all.

He loves to brag about you, and will do so at any opportunity.

After seeing your prowess on stage, he starts practicing a bit outside of concert season… and then more, and more, until he finally feels ready enough to fight to get the bass turned up in the next Dethalbum. Thanksch, babe.

[yoshikoooo]

Scaramouche and Kazuha  AS YOUR BROTHER! HC

Kill me romantically~

No, Im seriously worried about your mental health if he was your brother.

Hearing loud thuds at night and a scream of profanity is now normal to you. 'He is obviously losing on his game' . You rolled your eyes and went back to sleep.

Your brother is not much of a sweet type of brother.

Rather an egocentric one.

He obviously doesn’t like it when someone other than him gets to be presumptuous around you. Knowing Scaramouche, Once they get on his nerves, He would obviously do some tricks to lure them out and Beat the heck out of them. also, he wont forget to vent his undying anger on them. 

" You assholes! Wasting my time here! And there! If you guys had some sense and didn't pick on her then this wouldn't have happened! " 

He said furiously while kicking their stomach.

You obviously know how lunatic Your damn brother is and Knowing that, You still dare to pick fights with him. Go bad bitch, go bad bitch, Go.

On that note, You guys are seriously Fighting 24/7. There wasn't a day wherein the both of you didn't fight. He even called you ugly when you were a newborn baby. The auDaCiTy...

Mother gave up on Easing the fight. Its just not worth her time anymore. Too tired of the same bullsh*t everyday.

Once the both of you are outside, A Beautiful facade is shown. The smile you gave to each other and Giggles while talking on your way to school would make the passerbys think that the both of you were simply having some sweet sibling moments.

When IN FACT. You guys were arguing who gets to play tonights Ps4.

Curses and Inappropriate words were heard from the both of you, although none of the people passing by could hear it because it was so faint.

The fact that both of you were smiling while arguing like mad dogs is insane. I congratulate you.

"Oi, How stupid can you be? Can't you see that it's my turn on the Ps4 LATER?"

His hostile tone is something to make you furrow your eyebrows.

'This crazy small piece of sht.'

You thought as you smiled widely.

"This damn brother of mine is too old to know that It was my turn today. How pitiful it is to be old, Ah~ its okay Being forgetful, But In that age of yours, I think You should worry about your height more."

You said still on your sweet smile while your brother was about to snap, His height was something you shouldn't have mentioned perhaps..?

"Hah? Are you forgetting Your height Y/n? You're smaller than me, How could a bratty little beansprout like you have the right to judge my fucking height?"

His eyes are somewhat turning of a glare, this facade of yours is now breaking. And the walk to school is about to end as You can see the gate from afar.

"Hm? Don't mind my height, Girls are usually shorter anyway, So I clearly DONT.MIND.IT— but dear Brother~ Men have a different standard on heights, I was simply bringing it up and I didn't think it would hurt you this much, huhu~ My apologies. "

You said clearly in a sarcastic tone, Making you run your way up to the school when you noticed he stopped walking.

'Crap.. gotta run fast'

You said to yourself as you ran at full speed, Only to look back to see your dear brother running after you with a glare, Making You try to run faster.

"Hah?! Oi! You dipshit! Get back here!"

You heard him scream furiously, Making you look back and laugh awkwardly.

" haha...Brother, Who in the world is an idiot that would Stop running if you're holding a fucking knife??"

You

A Gentle guy here.

He's definitely the best brother. Literally.

Calm and Cool unlike the other one up there.

He loves to sing, Making your day always twice the better.

Not to mention, he can also play the guitar and other instruments.

Everyday is a day full of melody whenever you're with him.

He sometimes would recite poems and haiku out of nowhere, Making you stuck on it for hours till you finally get what it means.

Embracing nature is his favorite. He would often ask you if You want to come with him to visit a park nearby.

He is so elegant to the point wherein You sometimes question yourself If you are both really siblings.

His soft side is one thing, But You did once saw his bad side when a person tried to do something malicious towards you. You heard how His once soft and Calm voice somehow turned into a whisper of a grim reaper who would mercilessly take lives..

He is over protective. Periodt.

He doesn't want any bugs around you.

And Whenever you're down or in a bad mood, He would always come to you and ask in a very VERY soft tone.

"Y/n... would you Mind if you share with me of what is troubling you? Hm.. I may not be of much help, But I certainly would do my best."

A very soft smile is pasted on his face and his angelic voice is heard enough to make that anger inside you to disappear like a trace of smoke. You hesitated but gave a sigh and looked at your brother .

"You see.. there is this classmate of mine... I didn't do anything to him yet He makes fun of me out of nowhere. To the point that I'm irritated with it."

You said in a voice clearly Tired of what you were having trouble on. You felt a warm hand on your head, making you look at your brother Who obviously is concerned.

"Although, My friends did say that Maybe he just liked me and was simply seeking for attention. Which I don't clearly believed cause who would do that?"

You rolled your eyes and sigh once again. You noticed how The concerned look your brother had disappeared in an instant.

"Y/n, do you find him Troublesome?"

He simply asked as he smiled like usual.

"Of course, I do! I find Him annoying too! How he would play with my hair and touch my stuff! Ugh~ Just even remembering him makes my blood boil!"

You vented out while your brother giggled.

"My, my, Don't be like that, There is no reason for someone like him to stay on your mind y/n. People always do unnecessary things to get something they surely won't have, And I do too feel that It is wrong of him to touch your belongings, but Being grumpy won't do you any good so Its better to forget about him, So.. Why don't you eat some ice cream on the fridge, Its your favorite flavor after all. Let us ease your anger, shall we?"

Your brother kazuha Said as he patted your head softly making you nod in excitement.

"really?? If that is the case Then I'll be going first.... -ah! I forgot to tell you this.. "

You stopped and looked at your brother who looked at you confused.

" thank you for listening to me. "

You said as you head out of the room leaving kazuha alone. He smiled widely agreeing that his sister is the cutest and kindest in the world.

After a while ,The bright smile faded and a dark demeanor filled him.

"Yes....Its better to forget about him y/n... "

He smiled widely as if Trains of wonderful ideas are coming straight to his head.

Days had passed since you told your brother about that guy and you clearly noticed how different it is after you told your brother about it. Days are now back to being peaceful. You even wondered if Your brother is secretly a saint.

...

'hmm...? That guy is not showing up to bully me today either, or Do I even see him around the campus... '

You sigh in relief. As you thought that The guy finally gave up on you when in fact it's not.

[jamestaylorswift]

I have complicated thoughts about atw10. I go back and forth on it - sometimes I hate it, sometimes I love it. but I think I always end up at those extremes because I can’t help but compare them.

first you have the og atw. perfect, no notes, whether or not you agree it’s her magnum opus it does deserve every bit of hype it gets because it’s a great fucking song. (the magnum opus conversation is intertwined with the lore about the song - that taylor wrote it all in a vent sesh with her band; that it wasn’t a single but became a fan favorite because it’s a great fucking song; that there’s A Scarf™️; that taylor recognized all this history and played it up; that by rerecording her music taylor gets the opportunity to carefully prune, as one would a bonsai tree, narratives and how her eras are remembered and how this is the one she’s cemented in history; that now the focus on a song’s lore has intentionally and unintentionally become integral to its endurance and popularity….) the original song has extreme dynamic peaks and valleys despite its nearly unwavering four chord progression. it has lines about autumn leaves and repeat phone calls so insightful that you marvel at how anyone could have been so talented as to string those precise words together. but its emotional punch is twofold: the details are just clear enough to make you recall one of your own experiences and just hazy enough to prevent the writer’s experience replacing yours. the whole thesis is about remembering all too well, forever. you can’t get rid of it. because you remember it. you remember it all. the song is a tour de force and taylor’s skillful manipulation of emotional/musical tension in this song is something that will be appreciated and studied for years to come.

then on the other hand you have atw10, which not only sounds and reads differently but could even be considered antithetical, or at least a foil, to the original song. the zeniths and nadirs are less pronounced and she expands the story with new verses largely interpreted to be about a toxic relationship with an age gap. the musical arrangement is more modern and features an expanded palette of instruments: tension and release comes from subtle harmonic differences, staccato background vocals, or a wild violin. the new verses - were they really part of the original song? or do they clearly betray the perspective of someone who’s 10 years older? the short film - it hammers home this exact expanded story and was admittedly written as a retrospective, with the insight that being 10 years removed from a toxic relationship provides. the ultimate effect is that atw10 is not about remembering it all because you can’t get rid of it. it’s about taylor remembering it all, even though she can finally get rid of it. the “it” is clearly her own experience (though this is not to say the atw10 story is not a relatable story or that it’s not a valuable story to tell or hear.) “I was there, I was there….” the memories and the pain all trail away with time. but, these memories are very clearly not yours, the listener’s. atw10 may be an expansion of the original all too well story, but this expansion does not simply intensify the same emotions from the original song—it explores a rather different emotional profile. musically and lyrically, and whether intentional or not, atw10 argues that the pain of remembering is dulled and even remedied with time.

and thus the ways that atw10 excels and fails are quite different than the ways the og atw does. whether one is “good” or “bad” depends what we value in a song, and more generally, why we enjoy the songs that we do and the extent to which we value an artist’s interpretation of their own experiences. have we been in toxic relationships and can relate to the specific story of atw10? are there traumas we can’t heal no matter how hard we try? are we moved by brash drums and isolated guitars or playful violins atop chords that chug on and on? does taylor swift’s word supplement or supplant our own connections with her songs?

I know that I personally would find atw10 less confusing if I stopped comparing it to its shorter relative. but the various lengths and mediums in which the all too well story is told make it seem destined that we’ll all be comparing the versions until the end of time. and yet just as there are shades of red for every possible intense emotion - burning, cherry, so scarlet, maroon - so are there reasons to love all too well. just as it will endure in the popular zeitgeist as one of taylor’s best, most famous, most impactful, most beloved songs, so too must all too well live on in every listener because of (and only because of) each and every one of us loving it for unique reasons.

[ghoulodont]

if we were to take ghoul elements very literally (i dont, but thats a different post for later. many people do and i support that) i think its interesting to consider the concept of a multi ghoul. what element is swiss?

for one thing, he has a guitar, and he plays a rhythm part¹, so he must be part quintessence ghoul. what else? hes got his tambourine and all that. a tambourine is a percussion instrument -> earth. however, cirrus and cumulus also (sometimes²) have a tambourine and we always call them air ghouls. thus:

hand percussion is air, or

cirrus and cumulus are multi ghouls

i think the air instrument is solidly keyboards, based on historically what air ghouls have been responsible for (though im not good at history so someone correct me if im wrong please). cowbell ghoul was cowbell ghoul, not an air ghoul. therefore i would go with tambourines (etc) being an earth instrument.

then theres also singing. the air ghoulettes sing, and aether also sang but not the new quintessence ghoul. the old air ghouls didnt sing either. so is it just independent? elementless? when do we stop? swiss is also dancing his ass off all the time, does that have an element?

i think this is what draws me away from the strictly followed elements in my own writing. i dont mind this when im reading other peoples work, but when i try to write about it myself, the holes in the logic frustrate me endlessly. regardless, based on the performances weve seen³, i would probably consider swiss a 50/50 quintessence & earth ghoul, singing is its own thing without an element, and all the rest is just him being his charming self

i made this up. i can never hear the separate parts clearly in any live video and ive never been to a ritual (yet!) but he usually looks like hes playing chords

these are times when they arent playing keyboards. it would be so easy to look at cirrus or cumulus with just a tambourine vs swiss with just a tambourine and say theyre doing the same thing so they must be the same, i.e. swiss is (part) air, but you cant do that because you took their other instrument away

this is the loophole. whos to say that swiss doesnt have hidden talents? he could have any element and we just dont know unless he shows us

[sinceileftyoublog]

Mk.gee Live Show Review: 10/3, Vic Theatre, Chicago

Photo by Will Shaw

BY JORDAN MAINZER

Two Star & The Dream Police (R&R), the debut studio album from L.A.-based singer-songwriter, multi-instrumentalist, and producer Mk.gee, feels like an album of endless possibilities. Its palette--effected guitars, metallic drum machines, rubbery synths--creates a wholly abstract sound, but one with enough up-front elements to wake you from the dream. The first time I listened to it, I was reminded of albums like Frank Ocean's Blonde and Bon Iver's 22, A Million, because they all share not an aesthetic (though individual moments are similar) but a penchant for world-building, the type with the potential to grow beyond the album's initial release.

Indeed, live, the world of Two Star & The Dream Police expands exponentially. Last Thursday, Mk.gee played the Vic Theatre in Chicago, performing the entirety of the album, but in a different order just as cohesive as that of the record itself. He entered on stage obscured, the light show not yet kicking in. Mk.gee is Michael Gordon, but he's the type of artist who could ostensibly operate in anonymity without it being annoying, toeing the line between the mysterious and the uncanny. As such, it felt appropriate that the crowd screamed not at the sight of the artist, but the opening disintegrating haze of "Dream police". If you were going in cold, you might hear his strong vocals delivering yearning lines like, "I'll bleed tonight / She lit the world on fire / The dream police is alive," atop stadium-sized heartland rock replete with chintzy synths, and think the song was once part of the soundtrack to an 80s road-trip movie. Such is the magic of Mk.gee and his ability to tap into the blurry years gone by.

Then, he broke character, screaming, "CHICAGO!!!" The same way the sound of a piano or saxophone on Two Star & The Dream Police can ground you, Mk.gee reminded the crowd that he was Michael Gordon. It bears saying that throughout the show, both the impressionism and rawness expanded. Like Adam Granduciel of The War on Drugs, Gordon knows the power of a well-timed vocal whoop when playing a nostalgic-sounding song, like "How many miles". The light show often moved in sync with the music, giving noodling songs like "Breakthespell" a tactility it lacks on the studio version, making you aware of how the band pulled back parts piece by piece. Really, the lights often clued you in to the tone Mk.gee was going for. On "Little Bit More", a song that somehow combines a sea shanty sway with a guitar funk bounce, the lights looked like the extension of the table hosting all of Zack Sekoff's sample pads and sequencers, as if to suggest that the sounds you were hearing were conducted in a lab for maximum induction of awe. Truly, every time Sekoff triggered the occasional blast of distortion, the high teenagers behind me screamed, "What the fuck?!?" as if they couldn't believe what they were hearing. For the record, I was screaming it in my head.

As much as Mk.gee is occasionally flashy (the prickly, disjointed guitar solo on "Candy" comes to mind), their live show had me thinking that never has a band (Gordon, Sekoff, guitarist Andrew Aged) done so much work to create a vibe. In the hands of lesser musicians, the sheer number of samples and effects would come off as braggadocious maximalism. During Mk.gee's show, on the other hand, nothing included was superfluous. The hissing drums, riffs, and vocals--themselves an instrument--on "You got it" combined for the most satisfying Hornsby-indebted slow jam since "Beth/Rest". The strobe-lit industrial drums and auto-tuned vocals added a tongue-in-cheek temper to "New Low", a song that chides artists who try too hard to be someone else. Even the fact that Mk.gee played "DNM" a whopping five (!) times total, three during the main set, and two during the encore, seemed to serve to emphasize that you, too, probably had it on repeat the first time you heard it. Each time the band began it anew, Gordon looked over his shoulder and screamed, "ZACK!", an instruction to Sekoff to begin its swollen drum introduction; the audience sang along, "Never want to talk about it, how come? / Never want to talk about it, with no one?" louder with every instance.

It seems almost unfair to say that Mk.gee's show at the Vic was the best I've seen all year, and if I had to rank it, I might consider it the show of the decade so far. At the risk of sounding like an insufferable hippie, the show was an experience, one that constantly defies easy categorization and your expectations. When the band closed with an absolutely cheap-sounding instrumental cover of Celine Dion's "My Heart Will Go On" that also seemed to adopt the melody of Andrea Bocelli's, "Con te partirò", I laughed, but I also realized that the heel turn was more emblematic of Mk.gee than any of the Dream Police songs. He's always got one foot planted in the past, but he's always one step ahead.

[glenrocklibraryteens]

Album Review: Unreal Unearth by Hozier

If you are looking for an album containing endless depth and hard-hitting lyrics, look no further than Unreal Unearth by Hozier. In this album, Andrew Hozier-Byrne takes inspiration from Dante’s Inferno. Inferno is the first part of Dante Alighieri’s Divine Comedy, and describes the journey of a poet, Virgil, through the Nine Circles of Hell. Each layer represents a sin, progressively worsening as you go through them until you reach the realm where Satan resides. Hozier bases his album on this idea of the Afterlife and the Christian religion itself. I think that Hozier’s relationship and perspective is the aspect of the album that drives it to be so enrapturing. In an interview with Brittany Broski at Austin City Limits (which I definitely recommend watching if you want to hear his own phrasings of the topic) , he recognizes that he has a spiritual identity within himself, but wants to recognize the religion without the secular idolization that he feels is promoted in some churches.

My personal favorites include Francesca, I, Carrion (Icarian), Abstract (Psychopomp), and Unknown/Nth. The entire album’s lyricism and chosen words mimic that of a storyteller, which wonderfully sells the point of some songs directly representing a layer in Hell. Francesca, the fourth track of the album, represents the sin of lust. The song describes a difficult relationship but also one that is worth going back to. Here’s an excerpt of the lyrics:

It was too soon

When that part of you was ripped away

A grip taking hold

Like a cancer that grows

Each piece of your body that it takes

Though I know my heart would break

I'll tell them put me back in it

The overwhelming urge to return to the described relationship is what really stands out to me. Just as he begins to describe the decadence of the connection, he returns to a chorus where he begs to be put back into the ruthless cycle. This circles back to the overarching idea of Inferno; he knows that he is lost in this cloud of lust, but he doesn’t let the pain torment him. Instead, he gives into the depth of his emotions. I, Carrion (Icarian) is almost like the eye of the storm, a calmer and gentle counterpart to Francesca. In this track, Hozier expresses the weightless feeling of being in love. The soft guitar and implementation of other string instruments, the song itself is light and dreamy. The title of the song references Icarus, the boy who flew too close to the sun. The song’s almost naivety is hidden in the lyrics:

If the wind turns, if I hit a squall

Allow the ground to find its brutal way to me

If I should fall, on that day

I only pray, don't fall away from me

The clever play of words in the title (I, Carrion = Icarian) describes the brutality of what Hozier describes. His weighlessness leads him to possible death, which connects to the word “carrion” (defined as decaying flesh of animals). As he readily accepts his fate, he only hopes to stay with his loved one.

The 14th track, Abstract (Psychopomp) is a phenomenal story of compassion and acceptance. Hozier revealed that the song was based on a personal experience when he saw someone run into the middle of the road to help an injured animal to safety. What really sticks out to me is that the experience itself is so common and he took time to expand the emotions behind it.

The speed that you moved

The screech of the cars

The creature still moving

That slowed in your arms

The fear in its eyes

Gone out in an instant

Your tear caught the light

The Earth from a distance

The situation is so imaginable that you can’t help but feel that same grief. The balance between love and fear that is emitted from the situation also reflects onto life itself. The animal in the road, quietly suffering until the release of death, is said to represent the complexity of human emotions. What I love about Hozier’s lyricism is the ability to interpret it in more than one way. That expression of emotion really adds to the song and creates that depth that drew me to this album.

As you reach the end of the album, you are faced with the 15th track: Unknown/Nth. I especially love this song because the change in dynamics towards the end of the song, creating this overwhelming burst of pent-up emotions. This song would represent the ninth circle of Hell, treachery. The track describes a misunderstood partner in a relationship. This partner feels a distance growing and a slow bitterness towards the idea of being “unknown”. Hozier describes the ignorance of the toxicity emitting from the relationship and the idolization of the other partner.

Do you know, I could break beneath the weight

Of the goodness, love, I still carry for you

That I'd walk so far just to take

The injury of finally knowing you

It ain't the being alone

(Sha la la)

It ain't the empty home, baby

(Sha la la)

You know I'm good on my own

(Sha la la)

Sha la la, baby

You know, it's more the being unknown

And there are some people, love, who are better unknown

I think that up until that change in dynamic and volume, the piece holds this begrudging civility that gives an edge to the tempo and vibe of the song. As soon as that politeness fades, there’s a real sense of resentment for what the person has been through. I also think that there’s a mocking tone in the “sha la la”s that sort of echo throughout the song because it seems misplaced and almost mocking to have in a song of this context. The “sha la la”s remind of old Doo-wop love songs, which greatly contrasts the mood of this track.

[stcrsabcve]

(—) ★ spotted!! ESMERALDA STRYKER on the cover of this week’s most recent tabloid! many say that the 40 year old looks like JAMIE CHUNG, but i don’t really see it. while  the SINGER/RECORD LABEL OWNER is known for being UPBEAT my inside sources say that they have a tendency to be OBSESSIVE i swear, every time i think of them, i hear the song PERFECT BY SIMPLE PLAN  {she/they / demi-woman} 

TLDR version because oof its rambling below

is very much punk rocker turned officer work vibes

pansexual demi-woman who uses she/they pronouns

had a punk rock band (based on Paramore) from her last year in high school until 2013 when they split due to creative differences

they began their own label in late 2013 that is mainly dedicated to those who identify a LGBTQIA+ to help protect them from asshole producers and label owners. She is the only sound engineer signed to the label so everyone gets 1 on 1 time with her and she knows the only person who can fuck it up and be blamed is her.

Doesn't have a large interest in playing solo, considering herself retired from performing but might be convinced to do so.

Wanted Connections

Signed to her label 0/3: Musicians (or band) signed to her label! Best friends 0/?: What it says on the tin! Former band members 0/4: They were together for around 10 years before spliting How they feel about the split is UTP Former lovers 0/?: what it says on the tin

Rambling Paragraphs!

Esmeralda is the middle of three children. From a young age they showed incredible talent in music. Her older brother was a fantastic cello player and destined to join the most illustrious orchestras in the world. Her little brother was an budding concert pianist. Esmeralda on the other hand struggled to find something she was just as good. She had started piano before her younger brother, she worked hard at it right up until he started lessons. Losing complete interest her parents and tutors began gushing over her brother’s natural talent. Only in the last 10 years had she picked up playing once again.

She tried many instruments; violin, guitar, flute, even the saxophone but she wasn’t as good at them as her brothers were at their instruments so she gave up trying to be the best at them, years later she only plays them whenever the need strikes her.

She didn’t truly discover her voice until she was 16 years old, she knew she was good at singing but never considered it before. Her parents had expected all their children to learn instruments. She auditioned for the school musical, mainly to spite her cousin who had also auditioned for the same role. She got the part and loved it. Nothing gave her the same thrill as performing on stage and with all the attention straight on her. It was the first time she had the amount of attention she thought she deserved. 

She worked at her father’s record label at 17. Helping mix a few tracks here and there as well as backup vocals on a few tracks which caught the attention of one of the producers. Her first single was released not long after. It wasn’t great, the style of the song didn’t work for her. Her parents were incredibly disappointed that she "lacked talent in music" when they meant "lacked talent in music they like"

 Esmeralda formed a band with a few friends she had made at school and convinced one of her dad's sound engineers to record them on the side. They took the CD and shopped around until someone would pick them up.

The band broke up around 10 years ago after over 10 years of thundering success. Including multiple hit records and weeks at number one on the charts. They stopped wanting to make the same kind of music and eventually stopped wanting to play together at all. This was when Esmeralda began their own record label. They had very little interest going solo but wanted to continue to help others find their fame. Many wanted to sign but Esmeralda was very selective with her signees. She didn't want her label to become huge, just her stars. It is mainly dedicated to those who identify a LGBTQIA+ to help protect them from asshole producers and label owners.

[mystech-master]

Hero Artifact: Maka Albarn and Soul "Eater" Evans

For a background on this series of creations, see here

This one was hard to come up with because, well, they already have a weapon. In fact, one of them IS a weapon. So I had to be a bit more abstract.

This little thing flies around them in a way similar to 808 from Hi-Fi Rush, and with the power it gives off it alters Maka and Souls abilities quite a lot.

Its construction is partially made from the same Dragon's Teeth that made the Spartoi warriors of which the DWMA squad is named after, as the Dragon was sacred to Ares and its teeth were given by Athena to Cadmus, this grants it the blessing of both Greek War gods.

It was forged with Holy and Hellish methods to play into Maka's angelic Grigori soul and the demonic Black Blood within Soul. Forged with Heavenly Fire and quenched with Demon blood.

Its design is obviously based on the Lord Death mask, with the kind of Grigori wings it has it should reference Soul and Maka's flight power, the Scythe blade on the back is obviously a reference to Soul and gives it a sort of winged musical note motif. The Horns and Halo feed into the angelic/demonic dichotomy. And the colors of the 3 holes on the Death face are a reference to Maka and Soul's souls when shown in the anime, as well as the Witch power a Death Scythe uses.

As for the abilities it actually gives the two:

First, it activates the latent weapon blood within Maka, BUT it also allows her and Soul to share each others' unique weapon attribute which allows Soul to sprout the many blades that are exclusive to the Albarns. When the two of them fight, an option now is to sprout the blades and switch between who the weapon and meister as in a sort of dance of death. The creation of these blades is aided with some Demonic Hemomancy as well as some War God blessings. This Blood power also allows for a lot more variations on the shapeshifting of the Scythe form (with one form even being a straight War Scythe) But, should they want to fight old school, this little doohickey can pop right on top of Soul's Scythe form to just put all this new power into a single blade.

Secondly, the power over music, which is strengthened by the Soul of Arachne's strings. This could range from using sound to vibrate the Scythe blades ala Crona and Ragnarok's screech series of attack, or allowing them to create or even mimic other soul-based attacks/traits. By not just using Soul Perception to see a Soul, but also hear it, and then translating it into a song or even just a few notes, Soul and Maka can mimic it. Mimicking Marie's healing wavelength would be simple, but having her try to mimic Ichigo Kurosaki's Getsuga Tensho...... okay they could try and maybe get something with a similar effect, but they would nowhere NEAR get it to be powerful enough. If they tried the results would range from Damage to the soul directly that would NEED to be treated, loss of their powers, loss of memories, loss of personality, to outright destruction of their Souls. It'd be like someone trying to play guitar and when you try to bring the pick down too hard on the strings you just snap all of them. Power is a big factor in Soul power copying, but also complexity. Copying Getsuga Tensho is possible but they're gonna get a diet version of it unless they can find a way to close the gap, way more complex powers are much harder to copy because it'd be like trying to play 1 instrument with 8 sets of hands, or trying to play the entire band/orchestra by yourself.

Lastly, Maka and Soul are actually a very important part of some of my Mutliversal crossover ideas because of their Group Soul Resonance. By performing a resonance with other characters it can sort of help even out the power levels a bit in a big fight. Compare it to a bunch of gears being on motors. The more powerful the character the more powerful the motor and the faster the gear spins. By group resonating, Maka and Soul can allow other characters' "gears" to spin at those higher levels, for a limited time that is. They can't just handle higher super high amounts of energy. Say if they resonated themselves or someone else with Goku, if Goku went full tilt and powered up to the max they would collapse in like 2 seconds. It needs to be gradual to allow the body to get used to the new power level.

Also as a side thing, due to them taking one of Blair's lives in the first chapter/episode, this artifact now has that extra life stored away. So they got a 1-Up should they need it, but only 1. So killing them both would get around that.

[etrangersvoyageant]

One day at Motel Mozaique

Truth be told, if you told me I’d ever find myself going to this festival I would have give you a look of surprise. Unlike Rewire, MoMo (as it’s lovingly called) is a place with a more friendly and popular programme. My taste for experimental and electronic music wouldn’t be satisfied.

However the festival put on my radar when I found out they had some solid producers like Rival consoles and Gold Panda on the line-up and put them on the same night… Tickets were sold out, but with a lively second-hand market I was able to get a ticket.

In general, MoMo is a rather considerate and friendly festival. It tries to limit its waste, so they rather not give schedules – I asked for one, because I was without a phone, and it rewards good behaviour – I was given a stamp granting discounts, because I came to the festival by train.

After I collect my wristband, I head for the first venue. Rival Consoles was to play early in the evening and I wanted to get a good spot. However, as I enter the lobby, which was pretty crowded, I spy a poster with an update: Rival Consoles is sick. (Edit: turns out he has covid and feeling unwell. All the best to him.)

That took me by surprise. I mean Rewire lost one of the acts I wanted to see, but it happened a few weeks prior to the event. This was a little different. So, I left the lobby and decided to pick up my plan B. This meant going back to the ship where I saw PVA last year. Part walk/part metro and I found myself back at the venue.

Softcult is a Canadian band consisting of twin sisters Mercedes and Phoenix Arn-Horn. Their genre is grunge with some instrumental rock on the side. Live they were accompanied by two guitar players. Apart from rocking out, they are a band with an activist message. Halfway through the performance Mercedes introduces a song by dedicating it to Sarah Everhardt. (TLDR: she was abducted, assaulted and killed by a policeman in London.) Unfortunately, there were some technical difficulties during the show, but after ‘turning it off and on again’, the band was able to finish their set without any further errors. Regardless, a solid effort.

Next, I wandered around Rotterdam to find the next venue. Safe to say, I’m not as knowledgeable about Rotterdam as The Hague. This also became painfully clear when someone shows me a map of the venues and I got none of them right. Oh, but the places I go and see!

Ah well, the music starts. Yunè Pinku supports her own vocal work with fun beats and sequencers and it works. People sway and move along as she blends her songs into a dance party. I had expected a bit more hyperpop along the lines of yeule’s, but Pinku is her own woman. Another solid performance, albeit a little tame for my strange mind.

Lastly, I close the evening with Gold Panda, who enjoys the bass as much as the beats. The room is a moving entity, as his instrumental hiphop creations trickle out of the speakers, while the beat keeps people going.  There’s one funny moment. As I move along to the tunes, there’s a small collision with a woman. We look at each other, raise our hands to check if the other is okay and say sorry. In doing so, due to close proximity, our gestures turn into the smallest and least intentional high-five I’ve seen. So, we give a smile and a nod before we each continue on.

There’s more to hear, but I’ve got more to do. After Rewire, a night at MoMo was a bonus and it showed me again why I like Rotterdam. It’s a city with its own face. I made plenty of notes for both current as well as future stories.

[angstfactory]

"People will think you're serenading me," Fitzroy attempted, his voice raised some to be heard better over Asher's obnoxious singing. "You do understand that--" a pause as the store suddenly filled with other noise as the instruments around them came to life on their own, playing some melody that was barely (not really at all) familiar, "--just because you go on like this, it doesn't help me recall what I never knew?" An appeal to Asher's reasonable side was probably asking too much, though-- it seemed the male was intent on belting out the entire theme song, just to do so.

Though, it was actually rather cute. Disgustingly so. Asher looked so bright and joyful in his efforts to -- what, annoy? embarrass? inform? -- Fitzroy, that it was hard not to be entertained and drawn in by the moment. It was actually difficult to embarrass the Brit, let alone annoy him; his temperament was too easy-going and pleasant, and he preferred to stray away from anything that would cause stress or frustration. There wasn't any time to waste on things that only upset. The young man's eyes tracked Asher around the counter as he came forward, no longer able to hold back his characteristic dimpled grin, amused. "Oh, wow," he remarked in awe, over the holographic image that was conjured from thin air as well. Now that was truly impressive. The imagery helped to jog some memory of what Sailor Moon was -- not because he'd seen any of it, but because of its popularity, he was sure he must have come across the pictures or marketing of the show in some manner. Wasn't that an anime? That explained it. He had never gotten into anime shows. "You seem to be enjoying yourself," Fitzroy commented, with a smile, as the show all came to a regrettable end. "Pity. I was just starting to get into it, too."

He settled the acoustic guitar over his thigh. "It was genuine, I assure you." Fitzroy's fingers plucked at the strings some while he tuned it. "It's a music store, I'd be surprised to learn otherwise," he chuckled some at Asher's boast, since he thought such a thing should go without saying. He would naturally assume that music was 'kind of his thing'... Otherwise, why would Asher waste his time in this job? "Is he?" he wondered. "Aren't you both the same age?" he pointed out. Maybe if Kai had been some doddering old guy in late 60s or so, it would make sense to assume one day, it might all be left to the other. But when they were both young, healthy men? Not so likely. "Why not create and open your own instead?" Perhaps that was Fitzroy's privilege speaking, though-- the natural assumption that someone could just go out and open their own place at the snap of their fingers. However, it was more that he wondered why Asher would dream of taking over Kai's place rather than aspire to open his own some day.

Fitzroy focused in on the guitar in his arms, playing a few chords to one of his favorite songs but softly, so as not to be rude and drown out the other man as he spoke. "That's interesting." This wasn't said sarcastically, either. He did find Asher's take of the situation with Kai and apparently, almost anyone else who came into the store, to be interesting. Was he jealous of the store owner? It was hard to tell-- the way he spoke of it, it certainly could seem a bit salty, yet it was all said in such a teasing and joking way, too. So, there was just as good a chance that Asher didn't care one way or another about it. "Well," his fingers paused their light plucking of strings as he looked over at the man, "it is his store.. He wasn't brought up just so I could hear myself speak of him, you know. Maybe I shouldn't have assumed, I know he has several employees now, however... I don't think that's an unreasonable conclusion to make, that he makes the inventory list."

Fitzroy grinned. "I do care for Kai very much," he agreed, not ashamed of this. Quite frankly, he had several friends and lovers that he cared for very much. "I could think of worser fates than loving Kai Winter, trust," he was back to plucking at the strings to test the guitar's sound. "Besides, I'll be engaged soon. You shouldn't worry yourself so much on my behalf. I think I'll somehow manage through all that heartache he causes from not loving me," the Brit relayed, trying not to sound as amused as he was. "I can't understand, though, why everyone seems so uptight and scared to openly care about each other and let them in. What's the mystery? Where's the danger? Personally, I would rather love you for the moments you let me, than never have the opportunity in the first place." He shrugged, enjoying the conversation. "Then again, I do consider myself a romantic."

"So, any requests?"

The more Fitzroy protested, the more Asher's younger sibling instincts kicked in, and he knew he had to keep singing the theme song. "Never running from a real fight. She is the one named Sailor Moon!" Asher flicked his wrist, casting a spell so the instruments started playing the theme song as he continued to sing, moving from behind the counter towards Fitzroy.

"She will never turn her back on a friend. She is always there to defend. She is the one on whom we can depend!" Asher laughed, twirling his finger to conjure a holographic image displaying the theme. "She is the one named Sailor: Sailor Venus! Sailor Mercury! Sailor Mars! Sailor Jupiter! With secret powers all so new to her, she is the one named Sailor Moon!" As he finished, he snapped his fingers, stopping the hologram and music simultaneously. He grinned at Fitz. "I can't believe you don't know Sailor Moon."

"Thank you, kind sir. I take all compliments, genuine and sarcastic," he replied with a playful grin, moving back to the counter in one quick motion and jumping over the wood. He began to actually put the order in his hands together, moving around the store with a lighthearted energy. "Not to brag, but music is kind of my thing, which is why Kai is leaving me this place one day," Asher said this matter-of-factly, despite Kai being only a year older than him. Age was just a number to Asher, and he never let it get in the way of his dreams.

Asher nodded, giving Fitzroy silent permission to take down the guitar. He started packaging the order he was putting together behind the counter with a snort. "In love with Kai? You and almost everyone else who walks in here."

He mimicked the various customers that came through the store, his mannerisms changing with each impersonation. "Um, is Kai in? I had a question about a record. Yeah, I spoke to Kai on the phone and he--Kai, Kai, Kai." Asher laughed, placing the order behind him in its alphabetical spot. He leaned on the counter, grinning.

"Even you, assuming he picked the guitars out. Anyone who comes in here finds some reason to bring up Kai. The guy must be super busy with all that attention." He paused before sighing. "I feel bad for you and them though. All that effort and he's not going to bat an eye if he never sees any of them again."

[flooffybits]

Hold On

Idol: Han Dong (Dreamcatcher)

Everyone deals with grief differently. It’s the regret that gets to you.

Word count: 3.3k

Warning: angst, mentions of character death, unhealthy coping mechanisms, different stages of grief, crying, fighting, shouting, struggles with letting go

Carry On

☕ buy me a coffee☕

Dong looked around the room with her lips pursed together, an uncertain look in her eyes as she shifted another shelf into the corner and then took a step back. Gahyeon was out with a friend, most likely Arin again, but she had permission to redecorate their room.

Taking a seat to rest, she had to let out a breath before grabbing her phone as a notification popped up. Clearing it, she navigated through the device until she landed on YouTube, something she'd frequently been doing, before clicking on a video. Seeing the introduction caused a smile to tug at her lips before she adjusted her position and just watched, her smile growing softer when she saw previous moments that the group shared.

It was an old video, judging by the date and content, but she watched it either way.

"Dongdong." The sound of someone's voice caused her to look up, pausing the video as she did, and saw Yoohyeon peaking into the room with a shy look on her face. "Yeah?" Yoohyeon shifted a little before she looked around, her eyes soon landing on the instrument situated at the foot of Dong's bed.

"Can I, um… borrow the guitar?" She asked quietly and the Chinese woman blinked before she, too, looked at the instrument tucked safely at the corner. "Of course." Getting up, she went to carefully take it out and soon handed it to the younger girl, who held onto the guitar as though she were afraid to drop it.

"I'll bring it back when I'm done." Yoohyeon promises, like she always does, and Dong gives her an encouraging smile before the latter walks away.

And when she goes back to watching, Dong's not all that surprised when the video shows the exact same guitar in view, in the hands of its rightful owner.

"What song do you want me to play for you?" She hears the question you would frequently ask them before she's hearing her own voice suggesting a song that she knew you couldn't play at the time. "But that's too hard!"

"InSomnia will teach you." She had teased and Dong had to take in a shuddering breath as she watched the pout on your face as you turned to the camera, her past self grinning at you from the background.

Has it really been that long?

Meanwhile, as Yoohyeon settled herself in front of her own camera with the comments coming in, she offered a smile while adjusting the guitar on her lap. "I've been practicing a lot, so I'm pretty sure I can play you guys a few things now." She happily stated, her hold gentle as she placed her fingers against the strings.

A handful of comments began with hyping her up, others suggesting songs, though when she caught a few with regards to the guitar itself, she decided to promptly ignore them, acting as though she saw nothing.

Though everyone could see as she held the guitar close to herself, almost as though she were hugging it…

Hugging you.

You did teach her with it after all.

Though unaware to her, Bora had been watching her live from the practice room when she decided to take a break. The notification popped up, so why not check in on the younger girl, she thinks.

The moment she sees the guitar though, a small smile creeps up the dancer's lips as Yoohyeon animatedly speaks about her studying. She mentions how Pie no longer barks at her when she plays, and Bora had to chuckle when she sat down, stretching her legs a little.

The smile doesn't stay too long though when Yoohyeon starts playing. Did she intend on choosing the song or was it purely coincidental?

As your favorite song started to come through the speakers, Bora stared blankly at the screen while Yoohyeon did her best to play the song, albeit slowly, but she was doing great either way and Bora was proud of her.

But when she finally stood to continue practicing, Bora had to pause when the familiar sound of a guitar echoed in the room. It wasn't the same acoustic guitar, but she still knew who was playing.

"That's you! I can't believe we're performing your song!" 

She shakes away the memory of your laughter floating in her ears and gets into position. Inhaling deeply, she closes her eyes to count before moving to the beat of the song.

It was just her and the song.

Your song.

There wasn't anyone cheering behind her or dancing alongside her like you used to.

..

Earlier that morning, Yubin had gotten up early like usual, humming as she descended the steps that led to her bunk, only to pause when she saw the body curled up under your sheets.

At any instance, she would have jumped by the sudden presence, but noticing the dark hair, it wasn't a surprise anymore when she realized that it was the maknae again. She'd yet to outgrow the habit of slipping in your bed in the morning, so Yubin says nothing as she quietly slips out, lips pressed together as she starts her day.

Though as Gahyeon hears her close the door behind her, she curls up further into herself while clutching at your pillow. Instead of the usual comfort your bed brought, your lack of presence only served as the opposite and she could feel her heart drop when she realized that the scent she could smell wasn't yours anymore.

It was just hers.

Fighting back tears, she exhales a shaky breath before forcing her eyes closed. But the sheets still felt like it was you holding her at the start of the day. It still felt like she could still hold on to you.

But when she cracks both eyes open, she can't keep holding them at bay when all she sees are the stickers and pictures you've left on the wall, staring back at her from what once was and what can no longer be.

She stays there for a little while, muffling her sobs with your pillows until there's nothing left. She gets up when she's ready and she leaves the dorms with a quick explanation in hopes of forgetting the lack of presence within the group.

Minji watches her with sad eyes, sinking in her seat as she stares up at the ceiling.

At Yubin's studio, the rapper continued to experiment on what sound she wanted to include into her latest song, scribbling down lyrics and then crossing some out when she didn't find them appealing enough. It's a process that she's used to, but it doesn't make it any less tedious sometimes.

Especially not when she reaches a block and she had to take a break just so she wouldn't wear herself out.

So as her brain came to another stop, her frown deepened before she placed her pencil down and looked over her current work. It's been the same line for ten minutes now. She hasn't taken this long to move past them in a while.

She turns her chair around, only to stiffen when she sees the empty couch. Realization washes over her right then and there and she quickly turns back around. No one would be there to give her help or feedback right now.

Though even if any of the members or her friends were around, no one gave her as sound of a suggestion as you ever did.

While she did appreciate them for all the compliments and help, it all felt different compared to when it was you lounging on her couch, ready for her to spin her chair around and offer her that same encouraging grin you always sported on your face.

With a sigh, she turns back around and adjusts her headphones on, raising the volume to drown everything else out around her despite the fact that she was alone.

"Trust yourself." She breathed out, a mantra that you taught her throughout the years.

..

For some reason, it's Minji that's late to wake up today. How she figured that out is because she hears the loud voices outside her room. But it's not the same laughter and yelling because someone's being teased or chased around.

By the time she opens the door in a hurry, she can see Yoohyeon and Siyeon standing in between the two maknaes while Gahyeon was trying to angrily wipe her tears away. Bora was doing her best to calm her down, but that didn't seem to be working.

"You can't just take it away!" The maknae yelled and Yubin, despite looking calm, was just as tired as she was. "I know that you don't want to, but I can't keep the bed." She reasoned while rubbing her eye. "Plus, you don't even come in there anymore, so what-"

"Because that's Y/n unnie's bed! You can't just throw it away!"

Everyone grows quiet at the name, none of them having mentioned it for the past months. But Minji is quick to snap out of it as she addresses the pair.

"Why are you guys fighting?" She asks softly and Dong lets out a sigh while rubbing her own arm. "Dami was asking if she could change her bed, switch it for a single bed instead." She answers and Gahyeon frowns more as she turns to the Chinese woman. "You're just going to let her?"

The older members wither at her question. "Gahyeon, it's Dami's room. She can change whatever she wants to change there." Yoohyeon tries while placing a placating hand on her shoulder, but the latter pushes it away, breaking free from Bora's hold as she did. "So if she decides to throw everything else, that's fine too?"

"That's not what's happening." Dong states firmly and Gahyeon turns to glare at her. "You're her girlfriend and you said you wanted to keep her memory alive. Then why are you letting her throw it all away?"

There's a stunned silence at the maknae's outburst and she catches herself in time before she could say anything more that she might regret.

"I don't want to get rid of it either, but I can understand why Dami wants to do it and I'm fine with that." Dong states grimly, frowning at her roommate and Yoohyeon anxiously looks around. "It doesn't mean I'm trying to throw her away. I just know that it's healthier for everyone here."

"Gahyeon…" Siyeon grimaces as she steps closer, but the said woman only buried her face in her hands and whimpered. "I'm sorry." She croaked out, but Dong only took a step back, lips pursed together that Minji had to send her a worried glance.

"I shouldn't have said that, I shouldn't have snapped at you. I'm sorry, it was uncalled for." The maknae sobs and Bora takes her back into her arms with a sigh. "I think we all need a break." She suggests and, awkwardly, everyone moves out of the main room to their own rooms.

Others have opted to stay there or get dressed to leave the dorm, in Dong's and Yoohyeon's case. Meanwhile, Bora sits the maknae down while Minji moves so that she could join them, a gentle hand landing on Gahyeon's knee as she cried whatever she needed to let out. Aside from muttered apologies, nothing else fills the dorm.

Siyeon goes to leave for the afternoon, once everyone's calmed down a bit. She heads to the company for some alone time and it's not much of a surprise when she finds herself a room to just sit in and soon have the live starting.

She only waits until there's enough people before she speaks, smiling and waving to greet everyone. "How is everybody doing lately?" She asks happily, at least with InSomnia she still could be.

"It's a little late but I hope you've all had your lunch." She says in a scolding tone, though she doesn't mean it as she grins again and then begins scrolling through her phone. "I've been a little bored recently." She admits when seeing a question before she tries to think of something interesting to share.

And when she remembers what she managed yesterday, her face lights up in delight. "Oh! I actually finished this book. yesterday." She boasts, puffing up a little as she excitedly begins to talk about it. "Y/n-"She catches herself before the name slips from her tongue and she quickly fixes her mistake before anyone notices. "Dami suggested it to me and I've been reading some of the books she has in her room." While it wasn't an exact lie, the books she's been reading were yours.

She just asks Yubin if she could take them for a while, putting them back only once she's done, and she doesn't say anything about the marks and scribbles in some of the books she's borrowed.

She's not sure she could ever bring them up. Especially not after what happened at the dorm.

"Now I know why she loves these books so much. They're really interesting." After reading some of the books you had kept, she was able to understand you a little more, even when you weren't physically there nor could she talk to you. She still felt closer despite the circumstances and that was enough to make her force tears back and smile at the camera.

"I think I have to get going for now." She wills her voice not to crack as she waves her hand. "Be safe, somnias, and thank you for spending time with me."

Minji breathes out as she turns her phone off, doing her best to wipe the forlorn look on Siyeon's face from her mind, but as soon as she looks back at the quiet and empty dorm, she struggles with keeping herself composed. As she takes a seat, her face is soon buried in her hands when memories don't stop playing.

Everything sounds so loud despite the silence.

She can hear your voice. And even though she knows it's Yoohyeon playing, her brain tricks her into thinking that it's you fiddling with the instrument again.

"Unnie, where are the bandages?" Looking up with her brows pinched together, the leader looked concerned before you shot her a playful grin and showed your hand. "Practice again." You explain and she sighs before ushering you to sit down. "Let me grab it from the kitchen."

You obey and wait for her on the couch, examining the cut as she rummages through the shelves. "You have to remember to take breaks, Y/n, I told you this." She scolds gently when she heads back, kit in hand as she takes a seat and then asks for your hand, which you immediately give.

She examines the wound closely before frowning. Reaching for the wipes, she carefully runs it over to clean the cut, making you wince from the slight sting. "I do, but I just wanted to try." You pout while watching the way she cleans and dresses your fingers.

Minji opens her eyes to find herself alone on the couch. Something white on the armrest catches her attention and she slowly reaches for it, only to stop with her fingers hovering over the fabric.

"Y/n?"

The leader looks worried when she spots you slumped on the couch. It hasn't been that long since the girls have found out about your illness, so her heightened concern was understandable.

You were getting weaker and less healthy.

When she joins you on the couch, she tries to comfort you, but as soon as her hand comes in contact with your shoulder, she's a little taken aback when you suddenly turn to her and hide in her arms, the blanket you had falling off your shoulders.

"I'm scared." Her heart breaks at the sound of your voice. It scares her how utterly broken and defeated you sounded. But as you begin trembling in her arms, it's like someone was choking her because she's just so powerless in the situation.

She adjusts the blanket so that it's wrapped around you again and then holds you closer as she inhales sharply, running her hand up and down your back.

"I know… I've got you."

She remembers how she was the first to find out after a slip up from your manager. She didn't know you were scheduled for a hospital visit, and due to that, she had unintentionally let the others find out when she asked about it.

She remembers being the first person you properly opened up to about what you were feeling, and how you felt every time you had to visit your doctor. She remembers seeing you struggle as you tried to put up a brave front, only to crumble behind closed doors.

\It hurt her. It tortured her.

Now, all she could do was process and deal with the aftermath of your loss… but the fighting was getting to her. The depression that lingered in the dorm was getting to her.

Losing you more than once got to her.

"Unnie." Dong finds her on the couch when she returns, a little more calm after getting some fresh air and having some alone time.

Minji looks up and they both look equally tired.

"How are you?" They ask in unison and Minji almost smiles before she watches the latter take off her shoes and soon join her. "I… know that you're upset, especially after what Gahyeon said but-"

Dong shakes her head, cutting the leader off with a small smile. "I can't say that I'm fine, but I get where she's coming from. Y/n meant a lot to everyone… She still does." Minji frowns when the younger woman looks down at her hands and the leader could only imagine what kind of pain she was going through.

You held Dong's heart and then vice versa.

"I need your opinion on something." There's a hum, indicating for her to continue, and Dong bites her lip while her shoulders sag. "I… want to go on a break."

Right after the words came out of her mouth, Minji felt her whole world stop. Her heart dropped to her stomach as Dong continued to speak.

"It's just… everywhere I go, I keep seeing things that remind me so much of Y/n." Your girlfriend mumbles quietly. "It's not that I'm trying to forget but I just don't think I can properly move on when I'm constantly seeing bits and pieces of her." She further explains.

She wasn't sure how the latter would react. She's already needed to take a hiatus before, so she wasn't sure how this request would go. But Minji would understand, she believes.

However, when the latter had yet to say anything, Dong looked up curiously, half expecting to see the scrunched up and worried look on her friend's face. But she was met with heartbreak instead.

While she was trying, those words were strong enough to break the dam Minji has been desperately trying to hold and Dong finally sees her reach her limit, and the broken plea is enough to break her heart.

"Please don't go..." Minji chokes out because she's not sure how she can keep going if she loses Dong too.

She promised you that she would take care of her. She swore while clutching your hand close to her aching heart that she would do her absolute best that Dong would be in good hands.

How would she do that if she left?

And if she did leave… It was like losing you all over again. Dong was your other half. So if she were to leave, Minji would lose you completely.

"... Unnie…" Minji sobs as she clutches the blanket and Dong's hand while the younger woman watches her. "I'm sorry." The leader cries and the latter does nothing but hold her as they both cry.

By the time everyone is back at the dorm, they all sit down to settle themselves before, finally, since the start of their career, the girls would be going on a hiatus to gather themselves and recover.

Grief was a long process after all.

[purecantarella]

Revamped Rhapsody

double update? who is she? HAHAHA but for real i wanted to release these two at the same time to sort of compensate for being gone for a week. i hope you all enjoy this one too! im nayeon x idol!reader disclaimer/s : i had fun writing some good good angst

Words were important to you, it was a part of your passion and your work. Language was something that you'd adored since you were younger but the premise that you always found it a little odd how words could be twisted to mean or imply different things, just on tone and situation alone.

You wouldn't know or understand it was when you were permitted to write your own songs in your company. The blend of different meanings and people made you find a deeper understanding for the words and lyrics of songs. Then when you met Im Nayeon, the only person who could fill your mind and heart with a rhythm that followed the way you fell in love with her.

It began when you met after you entered the practice room she reserved by mistake.

You tapped away at your phone, your bag hanging lazily over your shoulder as you pushed in the door of the practice room. A familiar song that wasn't yours blasted through the speakers. Your head slowly raised as you saw the eldest member of TWICE staring intently at herself as she danced. You'd watched live performances and met once or twice backstage very briefly, but it was a different sensation to see her in her zone. No cameras and no expectations.

'She has a good form...' You thought to yourself, in an awestruck daze. Just as you were about to retreat to find the right room, a sharp thud and a small squeal sliced right past the blaring music from the speakers. You hastily turned around to see the vocalist on the floor, holding her leg.

"Oh gosh, are you okay?" You asked dropping your bag and sliding to her side. When she got over the initial shock, she recognized you. Her celebrity crush. The vocalist blushed and nodded quickly. The sparkle in her eyes as she gave you her iconic bunny smile made your stomach turn in the best way. "Y-Yeah, I'm good!"

A smile graced your lips as you saw the usually confident extrovert awkwardly fidget with her fingers. "You wanna get up or is this whole floor thing a part of your routine?" You joked to which she laughed, shoving your shoulder gently.

"Oh gee thanks, jerk!" You chuckled before getting up and offering your hand to the shorter woman. Once she took it, you pulled her up slowly, making sure she wouldn't tumble over. "Is your leg okay?" Nayeon nodded quickly.

For a second, there's a silence and a pause. You two just staring at each other like you had for years. Like you knew each other in a much deeper way than just idols who shared the same company. There's a point where she thinks that you might just lean in but nothing comes of the inkling.

"Uh, well I should go. Leave you to it..." You rushed as you took your bag from the ground. Turning to face Nayeon then the door then back to Nayeon. "Uh, I'll see you around?" You asked, readjusting the strap on your shoulder.

"I'll be counting on it." You grinned as you left, the lead vocalist running through your head the entire time you were practicing for your latest comeback.

Brushing past each other in the hallway of the company building became more frequent, on some occasion you both even ate lunch together rather than with her group and your managers or other friends. You both became a little more than smitten with each other and wound up dating a couple months after you first met.

Im Nayeon became your inspiration for working hard, to build to become the person you know she deserves. Of course, she thinks you're pretty great. She was your muse, she just hadn't put all the pieces together yet.

When your latest song dropped, of course she listened to it immediately. Then as she listened to the lyrics that you wrote, the way you described the perfect girl for you, how you began to fall in love with this girl, it clicked in her head. Nayeon rushed out of the TWICE's practice room, making the girls look at her with either a smirk or a look of genuine concern.

She sprinted across the building to reach you in your practice room. As the door flung open, your body shifted to the side, immediately smiling as you saw your girlfriend. "Nayeonie, hey what's u—" She pressed her lips to yours, cutting you off in a passionate meeting much to the dismay of your managers who sat behind you both.

Jumping into your arms, you placed your hands under her thighs as you pulled away. The dopey yet confused smile on your face made her giggle again as she placed a series of kisses over your face.

"You wrote a song for me..." You smiled even wider and placed a kiss on her cheek. "Of course I did, Nayeonie..." You paused for a second before adding, "I love you."

The smile on her face mirrored your wide and bright one as she kissed you again. Deeper and overflowing with an intense amount of love. "I love you too, dummy..." She whispered against your lips.

Despite how much you loved each other though, two years into the relationship both of you became extremely busy. Busier than you'd ever been since you were breaking into the international market and as was TWICE. Coming home to each other tired and grouchy. You'd tried to push it further but with one last fight after a long day of taking orders, you called it quits and left her dorm.

Your break-up was the toughest time for both of you, since you'd never gone public, you both had to maintain the happy facade for both your fans. It was particularly rough on you since a lot of the songs you'd been set to sing all the time were about and for her.

She anticipated every one of your songs since it was the only way she could hear your voice. Hearing how you forced yourself to be bouncy and in love with someone. At least she hoped you were forcing yourself.

On the day of your Sponsored Events, the day your latest song was to be performed during the event. The vocalist watched and saw the visible tiredness under your eyes but you still performed your heart out. Then a familiar melody played. One that Nayeon listened to all the time.

It was the first song you wrote about her. Except the lyrics were different. They were sadder, depicting your break-up rather than how you were beginning to fall in love with her. The lively guitar sound of the original was traded in for a softer and more delicate piano instrumental. As she looked at your face and heard the words that fell from your lips, it all came back to her in a wave, making her heart shatter all over again.

The rest of the girls came in after a while to check in on her and opted to stay with her to offer her some sort of comfort.

Nayeon watched your face intently, the ‘idol’ smile that was plastered onto your lips. You didn’t want to be there. She knew that. The interviewer went through a series of questions about your career and finally about the song. Your song for her, both versions. The smile on your face grew tighter, uncomfortably so.

“So two years ago, you released a song that you revamped and performed for us.” The interviewer asked you and you nodded, a dry chuckle falling from your lips. “And you said before that that song was written for a very special girl. What’s the story behind that one?” He pried making your jaw evidently clench. The girls sitting next to Nayeon eyed her carefully as she stared at your tense form. Silently anticipating what you were going to say.

For a moment, you collect yourself. The sadness swirling in your chest again from rewriting the song that you wrote for her. Having to channel all those emotions without crying on national television. You took a deep breath, releasing it with a pathetically winded laugh. “Short of it is that sometimes you need to let go of things to keep them whole. Uh…” You cleared your throat softly. The smile on your face fell a little, a sad and wistful grin left in its place. “Some things just need to happen to make way for better things, I guess.” You finished, the interviewer stunned.

A silence hung over the live feed for a moment. Nayeon and the rest of TWICE waited patiently to see what would happen next. The man leaned forward, propping his elbow onto his knee as he looked at you and asked, “If you could change the circumstances, Y/n…Would you choose to stay with her?” A somber smile on his face as your head upturned a little, eyes red and watery. Without a second thought, you nodded slowly.

Nayeon’s held tears trickled slowly down her cheeks as she held back a soft sob. “If I could…” You took a deep breath, lifting your hand to fan the tears out of your eyes, laughing softly at yourself before continuing. “I would leave everything behind to be with her.” The vocalist’s members had their arms around Nayeon as you spoke. She had pretty much bawled her eyes out as the unspoken confessions left your mouth.

“But I could never do that to her, not after all her sacrifices. I can’t.” Your voice finally cracked as the feed finally cut. The room echoed the eldest’s soft sobs while you did the same on the other side of the city.

okay, so this one was a little wobbly because i was not sober when i wrote this. had a bottle of soju and i'm feeling good HAAHAHH anyway, i hope you all enjoyed this and remember that requests are open and comments and criticism is completely welcomed! keep safe everyone and i will see you all very soon 😊😁

[hizashiiis]

Bakusquad + “Why are you awake” Part Two

PART ONE HERE

So here’s part two! Fun fact, the song Jirou plays you in her part is actually a song I wrote! I didn’t include any of the lyrics though because its lowkey really cheesy :/

I hope you like this! This one is for Sero, Mina, and Jirou.

Warnings: insomnia, depression kinda

Sero Hanta

- Sero is very much a hypocrite when it comes to getting enough sleep

- He’s constantly up at all hours, even sending you random texts if he can’t sleep

- But when you aren’t going to bed at a normal time?

- He’s so sad

- He looks like you kicked his puppy and then him in rapid succession. 

- It’s crazy because he seems to just instinctively know when you’re awake

- Like he bolts up in his bed all, “they ain’t in bed. I’m abt to beat some ass.”

- He’s never sure if he’s right though, so he texts you a meme he made specifically for you being up too late

- It’s probably really cheesy and outdated, but the effort is there

- If you respond to it (because you will) he knocks on the wall between your dorms and talks to you 

- Often, you both just stay up like that

Sero’s body is awake before his mind, moving him to sit up in bed before he can think. He was having a really intense dream; something about talking mice. He didn’t mind it, but he woke up as if he’d had a nightmare. 

Faintly, from the wall beside him, he can hear low music playing, but he can’t make out what song it is. It’s coming from your room, though, so he’s concerned. 

The sky outside is dark, clouds drifting across his windowed view of the moon. It must be pretty late; all the noise is gone, leaving nothing but static air, and the music. He leans over his bed to look at the time on his phone. It’s around 2 am. The song you’re playing ends, and he recognizes the next one. It’s on your sad playlist. 

He sends you the meme, as well as an invitation for a hug as soon as it’s morning. You respond almost instantly, assuring him that you’re fine, you just couldn’t sleep. But he knows you better than that. 

Knocking on the wall between you, he hears the music stop suddenly. He calls out to your wall. 

“Mi amor? What’s keeping you awake?” He’s met with silence for a moment before your shaky voice responds.

“I’m okay. I just kinda got hit with some sad, y’know?” He does know. He knows that this happens sometimes. It happens to him, too. But he hates hearing your voice sound so lost. You almost sound hopeless, and he can’t bear it. 

“I understand.” He places his hand up to the wall, wishing he could hold you. Unfortunately, you had both been told off by Iida for sleeping in each other’s rooms more than enough times lately, so he couldn’t just go see you. He opts instead for hugging a stuffed giraffe you had gotten him after the Sports Festival. 

“Do you want me to distract you, or do you want to talk about it?” He asks, stroking the giraffe’s head as if it’s your hair, not knowing that on the other side of the wall, you’re holding a stuffed lion the same way. 

“Distract me?” Your voice comes out only just loud enough for him to hear you, but he understands. He begins to tell you a story. He’s told it before. It’s about a great hero, one who fights crime valiantly, and his partner, also a fantastic hero. He ad-libs parts of it, making pretend villains say silly slogans, and recounting how the heroes save the day. 

As he reaches the end, he hears you giggle a bit. “Oh? Did it work? Are you smiling over there, my sweet?” He calls to you, a teasing lilt to his voice. 

“A little bit.” You respond, playing with your stuffed animal. “If you keep talking, maybe I’ll even smile more.”

He laughs, eyes bleary with sleep, but happy to talk to you the whole night.

Mina Ashido

- Honestly, she’s no better than you about staying awake

- She tries to sleep, but her thoughts are always racing

- Sometimes it’s thoughts of you, sometimes of new things she wants to try in training, or things she wants to see if she can convince her friends to do

- But she wants you to get adequate rest, even if it’s hard for her to do the same

- She used to get told off for sneaking to your room every night, but then Momo and Iida saw how much better you were performing in school on the days after she’d been there, and they started letting it slide

- It’s nicer for her, too, because she has someone to ramble to as the two of you fall asleep

Mina skipped down the hallway toward your room. It was a bit past midnight, and usually, you would be asleep by this time. It was well past lights out, and classes had run long that day, not to mention the endless exams that were happening at UA right now. So when she reached your door, she was surprised to find you watching a movie on your phone instead of snoring. 

“Hey bug! Why are you still up, don’t you know what time it is?” She says, throwing a grin your way as she puts her blanket down next to you. 

You shrug, yawning. “I could ask you the same thing, love.” She pouts at that, tossing her arm around your shoulder and pressing a kiss to your temple.

She watches you watching your show for a few minutes before saying anything. It looks good, she supposes, but she has a better idea of what to watch. “Scoot over.” She pushes you lightly, giggling as you scrunch to the side to give her more room. “Do you wanna watch something with me?” She asks, holding up her phone. 

You look at her for a moment. “That is what we are currently doing, is it not?” You hold up your phone in return, showing her the paused screen. 

“But I have a better movie!” She insists, unlocking her screen and shoving it above yours so that you can see her pick. She’s right, it is a better movie. You guys have watched the entire Studio Ghibli filmography, but even you know that her favorite, “When Marnie was There,” is the better option at this particular moment. 

You toss your phone to the side, pulling her in to lay next to you. “Fair enough, bubs, I guess yours is better.” You feign reluctance, watching her excitedly press play and tuck the blanket in around the both of you. Her arm curls tighter around your shoulders, and she giggles as the opening credits start. 

“Hey Minari?” You use her favorite nickname, looking at her through hooded, sleepy eyes. She hums in response. “Why is this one your favorite?”

Hearing the question, she pauses the movie, turning to look right at you. She’s quiet for a moment, thinking about her answer. “I guess because they remind me of us! Like I’m Marnie, and you’re Anna, and we’re having this great adventure together!” You feel your face heat at her words, thinking about the movie more critically now. Mina continues, “It’s like…” she pauses, finding the right words. “Like Anna is learning how her friendship with Marnie can make her feel more right, as a person. And I feel like that about you!” 

You’re tearing up now, unsure how to respond. Mina is so many things, and being with you is that important to her? It’s a new feeling, but certainly a welcome one. You pull her down, giving her a kiss. And then another kiss. And one on her nose. 

“Press play, Mina.”

Kyoka Jirou

- Lol u think she sleeps?

- She does, but not at night

- Were it not for classes, Jirou would be essentially nocturnal

- So you try to remind her to go to sleep

- Sometimes you’ll walk past her dorm at night, and you hear her guitar, softly playing her favorite songs

- Before you got together, sometimes you would sit outside her door and listen to her play

- Not in a creepy way, there’s just a little common area right outside her room and you like took a book there, you weren’t like ooh it’s late i think i’ll sit outside someone’s room and listen to them

- You aren’t Mineta. 

- But anyway

- Now that you are together, Jirou thinks it’s really sweet that you listen to her play

- Sometimes she leaves her door cracked open so you can come in

It’s 4 o’clock in the morning, and the light is on in Jirou’s room. You had come out to go to the bathroom, but you noticed her guitar, and decided to stay. The soft strumming is pretty, and you’re glad to be one of the few people allowed to hear it. 

Opening Jirou’s door just a bit more, you nod toward her desk chair in a silent question. She nods, so you go sit down. 

She’s playing a song you don’t recognize, and the lyrics are sad. Even still, it’s beautiful, and your eyes seem to naturally close, taking in the melody of her voice. She used to tell you her voice wasn’t anything special, but she seems content now to let you listen. 

The guitar resonates with the last few chords, and the ending note is held for three beats. When she’s finished, Jirou opens her eyes and looks at you, waiting for your thoughts.

“It was beautiful. Did you write that?” You ask her, your hands fidgeting with the urge to hold her own. She nods, but doesn’t say anything. 

You don’t acknowledge the sad theme of the song. She’s told you before that sometimes sad songs are easier than happy ones. That the melody is clearer. You don’t mind. All her songs are beautiful, and they reflect her in them, and isn’t that what makes a piece of art?

“I have another one, if you’d like to hear it?” She looks nervous; something you never see on her.

“I’d love to!” Your exclamation seems to snap her out of the anxiety in her eyes, which narrow a little. 

“Just…” She starts, looking away from you to adjust the capo on her instrument. “Don’t freak out, okay?”

Confused, you nod, and she starts playing. 

The song starts out with a few chords repeating in a loop, and then she begins to sing. The lyrics are confusing to you at first, and you still aren’t sure why she’s told you not to freak out. But then she gets to the chorus, and it begins to make more sense. 

Lyrics, in essence, are a poem, and this one is a love poem. Her thoughts, written out, are so sweet and loving, that you’re sure you don’t know what to think. She sings elegantly, like someone who’s never known how to dance, and yet is waltzing perfectly across a shining floor. 

She finishes the song with a declaration of loyalty, and you realize your eyes are watering. She looks at you, waiting for your thoughts. 

You say nothing. You don’t know how to say anything, so you stand, cross to her, and pull her into a hug. She’s not usually one for physical touch, but she holds you tightly. 

“It’s about me, right?” You laugh, leaving a kiss on her calloused fingers. She rolls her eyes. 

“Obviously.”

She smiles at you, pulling you to lay on her bed as she puts her guitar in its case, taking the capo off the strings. “You should sleep. It’s like, morning now.”

“You should too.” You retort, still holding her hand. 

“No.”

[whadd-up-babie]

✨🥺🥰 Sykkunos Sister 🥰🥺✨

Part One

Author's Note: Fuck time lines. I don't care if time lines don't add up. I mean on any other occasion I would care but right now at this exact moment in time, I couldn't fucking care less.

Word-count: 4k

Warnings: idk

~~~

You walked into your new apartment, your two roommates and life long friends by your side.

You smiled and turned to the two, “You see this ladies?” You said with a satisfied smirk on your face, “All of our hard work finally paid off.”

“I can’t believe we’re actually here.” Addie said with stars in her eyes. “A couple of years late maybe, but still here in L.A”

You chuckled “I can't believe we wanted to move here as soon as we got out of highschool.”

“Yeah imagine how horrible that could've gone?” Your other friend Selena spoke up.

You visibly shuddered at the thought of how bad that could've been. You felt a buzz in your back pocket and looked down at your jeans.

“Me and Selena are gonna check out this place before we start bringing the boxes in.” Addie told you as her and Selena walked off.

You nodded your head as you pulled out your phone from your jeans. It was a text message from one of your brothers' roommates.

Toast Are you in L.A yet?

You Yeah, I just walked into my new apartment

You quickly typed out and hit send. You’ve been in contact with your brothers’ friends for a while now. You haven’t seen Thomas, or Sykkuno, in years and you wanted to surprise him during one of his streams.

He was streaming Proximity Chat Among Us with; Toast, Lily, Poki, Rae, Ludwig, Dream, Brooke, Jacksepticeye and Corpse. You were a fan of all of them.

You lived a couple blocks away from your brother and his friends which was very convenient for you, considering as the younger of the both of you it is your duty to be the most annoying human being possible. So random pop ups at his home would be much much easier.

Toast I told the lobby that I ordered delivery so they expect an interruption

You Ooooh big brain moment

Toast But I did actually order pizza, it’s pick-up so can you do me a favor and pick it up on your way

You I revoke my “big brain moment”

Toast sent you the address for the pizza parlor and the OfflineTV house.

“I’m gonna go surprise Thomas.” You called out into your apartment, “I promise I'll be back to help unload the stuff.”

“You better, considering you're the strongest one here.” Selena responded.

You chuckled and walked out of the door and into the hallway that led to the exit of your new home.

Your apartment only had two floors, you were lucky enough to score the bottom floor. It was two bedrooms and two bathrooms. The three of you slept in the smaller guest room. You had bought two bunk beds from Ikea that you planned on placing in that room.

In the master room was where everything Important was. Selena wanted to be a streamer, so her gaming set-up was in that room. Selena wasn't one of those well known streamers but she had a following. Addie wanted to be a model, so the majority of her clothes were in the master bedroom closet, whilst you and Selena shared the smaller closest in your shared room.

You on the other hand wanted to make music. All of your instruments were in the master bedroom. You owned an electric keyboard, a guitar, a bass guitar, a cello, and you just started learning how to play the ukulele.

The room set up plan was simple. You had two desks on opposite sides of the room. Selena would get the wall with the window if she ever planned on using more natural light. Selena's desk would hold her gaming set-up, she currently had two monitors, but she's saving up to buy a third.

Your desk had the latest IMac, it was a moving away gift from your family, everyone pitched in. You had an inexpensive but high quality microphone to record vocals.

In between the two desks you had a futon and coffee table gifted to you guys by Addie's grandma. Noise cancellation foam pads would coat the walls.

But you haven’t done any of that stuff yet considering everything was still in the U-Haul truck.

You walked out of the apartment whilst typing the address to your brothers home in your Waze app, you added the pizza parlor in as a stop.

You got into your SUV and started the car. You connected your phone to the bluetooth and shuffled one of your Spotify playlist.

White Tee by CORPSE began to blast through your speakers. You bopped to the rhythm and began to lip sync the lyrics.

~~~

It took you 30 minutes to collect the pizza and drive to your brothers house. You stood outside the door with the pizza balanced in your hand as you attempted to ring the doorbell.

You texted Toast beforehand so you hoped he was prepared and wouldn’t make you wait outside. You didn’t like being outside, it meant that people could see you. And you didn’t like that.

You stood outside for a couple of seconds before Toast finally opened the door.

“Finally!” You exclaimed as you pushed past him to enter his home.

“Welcome.” He said sarcastically.

“Where’s my brother's room!?” You asked excitedly.

Toast pointed you towards the direction of Sykkunos’ room and you went running.

You stood outside of his door all giddy and happy, apparently they were playing proximity chat among us. So if Sykkuno was next to anyone in- game they would surely hear you, as well as the rest of the offlinetv house.

You took a deep breath and shouldered the door open.

“I’VE GOT A PIZZA DELIVERY FOR THE BESTEST BIG BROTHER IN THE ENTIRETY OF THE WORLD!” You all but shouted, scaring him off of his chair.

He turned to look at you and his face of fear quickly morphed into one of pure happiness.

“I call him Thomas but apparently his stage name is Sykkuno. I wonder where he got that from.” You said, this time more calmly.

“Y/N!” Sykkuno said happily. He quickly got himself off the floor and tackled you in a hug.

“You know I would hug you back but like… I’m holding a pretty big pizza.” You told him. The smile on your face was so big it began to hurt your cheeks.

Sykkuno brought his hands to your shoulder and held you at arm's length. He looked you up and down.

“You’ve really grown.” He told you.

“Yeah.” You agreed, nodding your head, “You still look like a ten year old.” You said jokingly.

You laughed and he joined in. You placed the pizza down, and he led you towards his set up.

“We’re gonna need another chair.” He said looking around.

“No we don’t,” You said plopping down into his chair.

He gave you a weird look.

“I’m the guest.” You said waving your hand.

He didn’t say anything, he just looked you dead in the eyes. Right into your soul.

You felt a shiver run down your spine.

“I don’t like it when you do that.” You said as you stood from his chair.

“I only ever do it to you.” He said as he walked by you to reclaim his chair.

“That’s why I don’t like it.” You grumbled.

A couple of minutes later you got your own chair, they were even nice enough to give you a water bottle. You sat next to Sykkuno with one of his earbuds in your ear so you could hear what was happening in his game.

So far you’ve run into Rae, Poki, Toast and Lily and you told all of them about your relation to Sykkuno though Toast and Lily already knew.

Sykkuno passed by Jack and you were about to scream in the mic, but someone reported a body.

“Well now I’m disappointed.” You mumbled to yourself.

“The body was i-“

“What! Toast is dead!” You said shocked, “We were just with him.”

There was a moment of silence within the game.

“Who’s that?” Jack asked.

“Yeah,” The other players muttered in agreement.

“That’s my sister, Y/N.” Sykkuno said.

A gasp could be heard from almost everyone

“Sister!” Ludwig shouted over the gasps, “Sykkuno you didn’t tell me you had a sister. I thought we were best friends.”

“I’m not really his sister.” You told them.

“Yeah she’s my foster sister.” Sykkuno explained.

“When I was younger Sykkunos' family was my foster family, until I was adopted by a lovely couple in Chicago.” You said.

“We haven’t seen each other since her adoption.” Sykkuno continued.

“And that was. What? 10-ish years ago?” You finished turning to Sykkuno.

“Yeah around that time.” He answered.

You brought your water bottle up to your lips and began to drink.

“Well it’s great to meet you Y/N!” Brooke said excitingly.

A chorus of “nice to meet you” entered your ear, but a very distinct “what up baby” caused you to spit your water back into its bottle.

“What’s wrong?” Sykkuno asked as he looked towards you.

“That did something to my stomach.” Was all you said.

“The water?” Sykkuno questioned further.

You felt your face heat up.

“Yeah.” You said nodding your head. “It’s totally the water. It couldn’t possibly be for any other reason.” You said bring your hand up to hide your smirk with your knuckles.

You turned your head and saw the chat exploding with the word SIMP in all caps.

~~~

You were at Sykkunos house a couple of days after that incident. He was streaming Proximity Chat Among Us with the same lobby again. They were playing in Polus.

Corpse was telling the lobby about his day when you thought to yourself, “I wanna wake up to the sound of your voice.”

You scrunched up your eyebrows wondering why it got quiet all of a sudden before Sykkuno bursted into fits of laughter as well as the rest of the lobby.

It finally dawned on you that you said that out loud. Your eyes widened and your face began to heat up.

“That sounded so suggestive, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know I was speaking out loud.” You began to laugh with the rest of the group and Corpse joined in quickly after.

The game started and you were all calmed down.

“I still can’t believe I said that out loud.” You announced to the group. A few giggles left their mouths as well as your own.

“No but just imagine waking up at 7 am to Choke me like you hate me but you love me! Every single fucking day.” You said before bursting into laughter, the lobby joining in soon after.

Sykkuno was doing his tasks in O2 before he announced to his stream he had to use the bathroom.

“I’ll watch the game for you but I won’t play because… I don’t want to.” You told him as he muted his discord and got up from his chair.

“That’s fine.” He said and left the room.

You turned to his chat. They started bombarding you with questions.

“What’s your Instagram.” You read aloud.

“Oooh shameless plug, follow me on all of my socials @y/n, also subscribe to my YouTube channel “Y/N L/N” I make music…sometimes.” You answered.

“Do you simp for Corpse.” You read another.

You pursed your lips. “I’m not gonna answer that question, but I will confidently admit that I simp for Rae and Poki.” As you finished that statement, Corpses avatar walked into the room.

You reached over to Sykkunos Keyboard and un-muted his mic.

“Hey Corpse!” You chirped.

“Hey Y/N.” He replied. “Where’s Sykkuno?” He asked you.

“What, am I not good enough?” You asked with mock offense

He chuckled before speaking up. “No, I was just wondering.”

“He’s in the bathroom.” You answered. “I’m all by my little old self. Minus the stream of course.” You turned to smile at Sykkunos camera before focusing your attention on the game.

“Would you like some company?” He asked.

“I would love some company, thank you Corpse.”

He brought his Avatar to stand by Sykkunos.

“How’s your day?” He asked.

“Not very fun.” You answered thinking back to what happened this morning. “We were finishing building the second bunk bed, but I dropped one of the heavier parts on my foot, so that hurts.”

“Oh that sucks.” He stated.

“I know. How’s your day?” You asked him.

“Very uneventful, just writing some potential lyrics and stuff.” He said.

“Oh yeah you write your own music.” You responded. “How did I forget that.” You mumbled to yourself.

“What do you like to do for fun?” He questioned.

“Oh I make music, or do covers. Depends on how lazy I’m feeling.” You told him.

“You make music?” He asked. You could hear the shock in his voice.

You hummed in response. “Yeah I dabble in music production. I write a nice chunk of the music, but I have some other musical friends help me with other stuff. It’s not enough for me to be noticed by the big producers or record labels though.”

“You think you could show me some of your stuff?”

“Yeah!” You said excitedly. “Do you want me to send it through Discord, Insta or Twitter.” You said as you fished your phone out of your back pocket.

“Do discord.” He told you.

“Got it.” You pulled up your discord app as Sykkuno got back from the bathroom.

You already friended the lobby Sykkuno was playing in after your first meeting.

Sykkuno got back in his chair. “Alright I’m back.”

“I unmuted your mic by the way.” You told Sykkuno, your eyes glued to your phone. You had to send Corpse the perfect snippet. So far all your options were shit.

“Oh hey, Corpse!” Sykkuno said once he got situated.

“Hi Sykkuno.” Corpse replied, “I was just talking to Y/N, she’s great company.” He complimented you.

“I am good company,” You said looking up from your phone, “I wish my roommates thought that.” You muttered to yourself, apparently louder than you thought because Corpse began to chuckle.

You smirked slightly. The sound of Corpses’ laugh caused a blush to spread to your cheeks.

“Shouldn’t you two finish your tasks.” You coughed up, trying to hide your blush. “I mean you’ve wasted enough time already.”

“Does anyone ever do their tasks when they play proximity?” Sykkuno asked.

“Exactly.” Corpse agreed.

“I’m a very work oriented person so I probably would.” You told them. You finally found the perfect audio file to send Corpse.

“I hope he likes it.” You thought to yourself. You sent Corpse the file the same time a body was reported.

“I found Luds’ body in decontamination.” Rae said.

“Sykkuno and Corpse did nothing in o2 practically the whole round.” You told the lobby. The lobby has gotten used to you speaking up while they played.

“I was keeping a new friend company that's not exactly nothing.” Corpse said, trying to defend himself.

“It meant nothing to me.” You said, you were quiet for a few seconds before you spoke up again, “I’m sorry! That was mean! I didn’t mean it! Thank you for disregarding your tasks just to keep me company!”

The lobby broke out into laughter while you continued spewing out apologies.

~~~

The game ended quickly, turns out Poki and Rae were the imposters. You decided then to make your departure.

“I should probably head home.” You told the lobby, “The only food the girls know how to cook is pizza rolls, pizza bagels and ramen. And we promised each other we would start eating healthy.” You got up from your chair as the lobby was saying their goodbyes.

You exited Sykkunos room and walked towards the exit. You ran into Michael and Lily and said goodbye to them on your way out.

You reached your car and pulled out your phone, checking for notifications. You usually stay off your phone whenever you watch your brothers’ stream so you never know what's happening.

It turns out you had 10 missed calls from Selena, and over 100+ messages of her asking you to answer the phone.

You quickly got into your car and called your roommate.

The phone only rang twice before she answered.

“YOU'LL NEVER BELIEVE WHAT I JUST DID FOR YOU!” She screamed into the phone.

You brought your hand away from your ear and cringed at how loud she was being.

“That’s fun.” You muttered to yourself. You put your phone down in one of the cup holders and put it on speaker.

“What did you do exactly.” You asked aloud as you put your key into the ignition.

“So you remember that cute guy we ran into-” She began but you interrupted.

“NO!” You shouted. “I am not in the mood to go on dates. We are here in L.A to focus on our careers. I don’t have time for dating.”

Selena was quiet for a few moments before she spoke up.

“Okay, but if you meet him and start catching feelings but it's too late, just know it's not my fault.” She said before she hung up.

You sighed to yourself. You were not ready to go out on dates. Especially not after your last relationship.

You drove in silence for the majority of the way home until you got a discord notification on your phone. You waited until you reached a stop light to look at it. Apparently it was from Corpse.

CORPSE I loved the vocals I honestly wasn't expecting this type of music from you

You quickly typed out a reply while still paying attention to the road ahead of you.

You Thanks! I just thought you would like that type of sound so I decided to send that one

You hit send right as the lights turns green. You placed your phone back into the cupholder and began to drive. You got another discord notification, you assumed it was Corpse.

“He can wait 5 minutes.” You thought to yourself. Corpse may have peaked your interests but that doesn't mean you were willing to get into a car crash for him.

You quickly pulled into your apartment complex and ran into your home, phone in hand. You had gotten 3 discord notifications whilst you were driving. You quickly sat down on your couch in the living room and propped your feet onto the coffee table.

CORPSE I like how this is mixed and produced You have a great tone throughout the song Would you want to collab sometime?

You felt your heart leap into your throat.

“This couldn't possibly be happening.” You thought to yourself.

Corpse was very relevant in the music industry, he had told you during one of the Among Us games that many labels were reaching out to him. This collaboration with Corpse could make you a star!

You A collab with one of the most trending people in the world? Count me in!

CORPSE Great! we can meet up whenever you want to work out some lyrics

You smiled to yourself thinking of how many doors this could open for you. This could make or break your career.

“Holy shit.” You mumbled under your breath.

“Me and Corpse are making a song together!” You thought to yourself.

“What kind of Wattpad fanfic is this?” You said out loud as Selena and Addie came out of the Master Bedroom.

“Oooh what about Wattpad fanfics?” Selena asked, as she headed towards the kitchen.

“My life is a Wattpad fanfic.” You told her. You furrowed your eyebrows in thought, “Is this my existential crisis?”

“What?” Addie asked, very confused as she sat down on the arm of the sofa.

“What am I rambling about.” You turned to your roommates. “You’ll never believe what I just scored.” You told them excitedly.

“What?” Selena asked as she exited the kitchen a bag of chips in her hands.

“I’m going to do a collaboration with Mr. Corpse Husband himself.” You said proudly.

“No way!” Selena shouted, dropping her bag of chips on the floor. “You lucky bitch.” She said.

“You guys have only known one another for like 3 days.” Addie said.

“We’re making a song, not getting married.” You told her.

“Yet.” Selena said with a smirk.

“I’m going to bed.” You told them as you stood up from the couch.

“What!?” They said in unison.

“But it’s like 8 o'clock.” Addie finished.

“I know but I’m not in the mood to put up with the both of you.” You said as you left the living room.

“I only said one thing!” Selena complained.

“One too much.” You told her.

You walked down the hall and entered your shared room. You sat down at the foot of your bed and sighed.

“This is not at all what I expected when I told mom I was moving to Cali.” You threw yourself backwards.

“How are we gonna go about this?” You asked yourself. Were you and corpse gonna work together in person, were you gonna work over a discord call? You haven’t seen his face, you’re not sure if he’s seen yours yet. All these thoughts came and went inside your brain, it was starting to give you a headache.

You grabbed your pillow and brought it down on your face. You made a noise somewhere in between a groan and a whine when you heard you got another discord notification from your phone.

You reached around for your phone until you finally grabbed it and brought it up to your face. It was another message from Corpse.

CORPSE For making the song I was thinking maybe you could come over to my apartment because I remember how you once told the lobby that your roommates are very loud

YOU They are very loud And thank you for the invitation, I was just starting to wonder how we were gonna work together

CORPSE Here’s my address and number Wanna meet up on Sunday 3 o’clock?

“Sunday, Sunday, Sunday.” You thought to yourself, You’re pretty sure you don't have any plans that day. You typed out a quick reply before turning off your phone and going to sleep.

~~~

It was Sunday 12 o’clock you left your house with a nice hot cup of joe in your hands. Corpse lived 2 hours away so you wanted to leave early to hopefully grab some breakfast.

The night prior you placed your guitar in the back of your car, knowing you wouldn't remember to do it the morning of.

You got into your car and pulled out of your apartment complex. It was a long drive filled with random songs. You pulled into the first McDonalds you saw and ordered your usual.

When you were back on the road you had about 30 minutes before you would arrive at Corpse’s house. Which meant, using the power of mental math, you would get there 30 minutes early.

You grabbed your phone out of your bag keeping your eyes on the road. You opened up your contact list and scrolled through looking for Corpse. You found his name and gave him a call. You put your phone on speaker and put it into your cup holder. The phone rang about eight times before he answered.

“Hello.” He answered, his voice was deeper than usual.

“Did you just wake up?” You asked as you turned off the highway.

“Yeah, I got a good… 35 minutes.” He told you with a chuckle.

“Make yourself some breakfast. I should be there in about 30 minutes.” You told him with a smirk.

“Yes ma’am” He told you before he hung up.

“This is gonna be a long day.” You muttered to yourself.

~~~

Sykkunos Sisters Master list

Story Snippets/Master list

Taglist:

I couldn’t tag some people, if you are one of those people message me so we can hopefully tag you successfully. If you want to switch lists just ask :)

All Corpse fics:

@carlosoliveriaownsmyass, @cookiewhoree, @zunmie, @phriendophphrogs,  @i-love-stamps-blog, @cupidsloverr, @cassie12435, @fivedicksinatrenchcoat, @mythicalamphitrite, @wiseflamingoqueen, @cherry-piee, @mono-has-a-gun, @ilovepizzaandimhot, @rambling-rabbit, @thecanterburywitch, @daisiesandmarvel, @brooklyn22, @and-claudia, @captainbuckyy

Sykkunos Sisters:

@punnypuppylove, @emsies-dream, @bbecc-a, @soft4kei, @penflop

[hotwings0203]

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.