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#damon albarn#blur#blur band#1990s#90s#nineties#20th century#twentieth century#britpop#rock#rock music#indie#indie music#b&w#vintage#retro#alt rock#gorrilaz
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Damon Albarn Interview (1996)
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She's the one I'm running with
Damon Albarn x fem!reader
Summary: when everything falls apart, at least they still have each other.
Warnings: the press, fluff, maybe messed up timeline and behavior
Wordcount: 1.2k
Masterlist
“Do you ever wanna run away?”
A simple question as that had started it all, well maybe not everything. The press was there first, as always. Whether it be in front of a restaurant they were eating at one night or outside the studio whenever the band recorded a new album. They were there to take pictures of every situation, hoping to capture just the slightest glimpse of unintentional imperfection. Something more raw than laughter on a TV show or dumb comments in an interview or on stage. They wanted the real faces of every celebrity and they’d do anything to capture just the right moment for a new headline. They’d write anything to have their name printed as a footnote under the newest headline.
‘Damon Albarn, cheating on long-time girlfriend? Is there trouble in Paradise for the power couple of Britpop?’
Everything was a question and over the top. Everything was what it was never meant to be. A bloated stomach was a pregnancy and a new ring was an engagement or secret wedding. Everything one did, when it was seen by the public, was a form of violation. Whether it be against the fans or the own closest circle, someone always had to be hurt. Something always had to be dramatized.
The newest of them all finally drew the line for Damon, it made him ask that one specific question.
“In what sense?” she’d asked, playing with the sleeve of his grey shirt and looking up at him from her position on his chest.
“Just go,” he answered with his hands tangled in her hair. “Let’s just pack our stuff and go somewhere quiet. Without all the cars and people, just us.”
“OK.”
And that’s what they did the next morning. Damon called the band, saying that he needed some time off and that he wouldn’t be available for the next three weeks or so. Let’s say, they weren’t all too happy with his call. Y/n asked for the holiday she’d been putting off and her extra hours, before starting to pack their bags. Not too much, not too little. They wouldn’t be doing much, she knew that. He hadn’t actually told her what he’d planned for them, but she was willing to follow him anywhere.
She was sure of that at last, when she climbed into the car and looked over at him. His face highlighted by the golden sunlight that was still rising above the buildings, catching all the little details and making him stand out for her like he did the first time she’d seen him.
Taking out the film camera that was hidden in her bag just in case, she captured the moment, hoping it’d come out alright and good enough for her to put it into the box with all the others she’d been collecting over the past two years.
At the sound of the shutter going off, Damon turned to her with a slightly playful grin on his face. He hated the pictures others took, but hers, he loved them. He’d let her follow him with a whole film crew if it meant that he got so see the smile spreading across her face whenever looking at him or the video she took, the photos she gave him at every end of the year since they met in college and became close friends. At first it were mostly of the band at rehearsals, where she’d been invited to by him in particular, or at gigs, where Damon invited her as well to, but over time and as the friendship blossomed to something more than light banter and occasional flirting, the pictures of him became more too until they filled the whole album. He’d look at them on nights when he couldn’t sleep or was feeling lost for inspiration and read through the small notes or poems on the side of every page with a smile on his lips - he still did that - wishing that her words were only meant for him and no one else in the band, until they were.
And now she was his and he was hers just as much, a dream come true.
“What?” Y/n asked, looking at him with knitted eyebrows and an unsure look on her face, like she waited for the hour long speech about pictures once again.
“Nothing,” Damon simply shrugged, starting to tap his finger to the beat on the steering wheel and looking at the road ahead. “Your smile is just absolutely beautiful.”
The drive to their destination was an hour and a half, all in which they were talking or singing or sitting in silence, solely enjoying the other’s presence with them. Stopping the car, Damon looked from the little cottage he’d rented over to the girl in his passenger seat, asleep. He couldn’t just wake her now, could he? Deciding on the easiest way to get her into the warmth of the house, Damon went over to her side of the car and picked her up, carrying her inside.
Opening her eyes, Y/n was greeted by the fireplace burning in front of her, her body slumped against the cushion of the sofa and Damon nowhere in sight. Sitting up, she looked around the little space out of wood until her eyes landed on the figure standing in the kitchen, staring puzzled down between a small piece of paper and the pot boiling in front of him.
Not noticing his girlfriend waking up, Damon almost let out a scream as he felt a pair of arms wrapping themselves around his chest and a head nuzzling itself into his back, inhaling the scent of his shirt. Looking down at the hands clasped around his middle he smiled, recognizing the ring. The one, whose meaning the press weren’t wrong about.
“Hello, love. Slept well?” He asked, continuing to try and cook the pasta like it was scribbled down on the little paper by her mother.
“Yeah,” she answered, not moving.
“Hope you’re hungry.”
“If it tastes good,” she teased.
“My food always tastes good,” Damon argued back, looking over his shoulder to see her stifle against his back and shaking his head at her behavior.
“It’s not even that bad,” she complimented as she tried the first bite, her nodding in approval as she was still chewing.
“Thank you, chef,” he answered with the same attitude she had been talking with earlier.
“You know, I’ve been thinking about something,” Damon said into the middle of silence, blowing out the smoke of his cigarette, before handing it over to her.
“About what?”
No matter how much people might deny the fact that she was supportive of her boyfriend and complain about how little times she was seen at gigs or festivals, she truly cared about everything going on in his mind and how he chose to express it.
“A new band,” he answered, making her turn her head in his direction.
“What about blur? Don’t you wanna try and keep that up? I mean, you’re so popular.”
“I wanna try something new, you know?” She nodded in understanding, aware of the fact that he’d been trying out different styles for quite some time now. “Blur is good and all that, but I believe there’s more in my creativity than ‘Britpop’. Do you remember that guy Graham was obsessed with, Jamie Hewlett or some? He’s the comic artist and we’ve talked about music as such these days and all that. What do you think of a band made out of comic characters?”
“What?” The idea sounded absurd, unimaginable even. With all those people around that were catching on fame, all those real people everyone liked to talk about when life got too boring for them, how would a group of fictional characters fit in there? Though, the more she thought about it, the more it intrigued her. An real fictional band in a world so unreal. It made sense of some sorts.
“Tell me more.”
“We have some vague ideas as of now, nothing solid though.”
That’s how they spent the next few weeks, talking and brainstorming ideas, sometimes with Jamie on the phone. Falling asleep between scribbled notes or with an open song file lulling them to sleep. It wasn’t their ideal idea of a holiday activity, but at least they got to do something just for them for a little while. It would be available to the public in time, but at least now, nobody could ask them about it.
It was just theirs.
Their little world to hide away from reality in. The one they could run away together to.
#damon albarn x reader#damon albarn#damon albran x you#damon albarn x fem!reader#damon allbarn fanfic#blur x reader#blur band#blur#gorrilaz
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#anime#manga#neon genesis evangelion#evangelion meme#animememes#nge#shinji ikari#neon genesis shinji#ikari shinji#nge shinji#nge shitpost#nge memes#album cover#gorrilaz
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I love that every year I remember that Gorillaz exist and have a passion for life again
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Rarrararrr
Nevr again
#pokemon#pokemon sv#pokemon scarlet and violet#pokemon drayton#pokemon lacey#pokemon amarys#pokemon crispin#gorrilaz#art#demon days#gorillaz
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choose
#colter wall#nirvana#lovejoy#american murder song#the mechanisms#tally hall#will wood#queen#the white stripes#cosmo sheldrake#the crane wives#gorrilaz
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♡
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Soooooooooo... I had to do it That was my first thought when I saw them
(And from Leo in a wig I have vibes of Jareth the Goblin King from the Labyrinth........... Tell me that I'm not alone plz)
#rottmnt#rottmnt fanart#rise of the tmnt#rottmnt mikey#rottmnt raph#rottmnt donnie#rottmnt leo#gorrilaz#leonardo#donatello#raphael#michelangelo#rozwell art#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#turtles#my art#redraw
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𝑪𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒚𝒐𝒖
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Warning(s): Swearing, (Damon Smut).
Plot: After a small outburst, Damon reassures Y/N of her place in their relationship.
Word count: 2.3K
A/N: Hope that the person who requested this enjoys it. I do apologise for the infrequent uploads. I have so many missing assignments, and my lack of proper time management makes it harder to keep up. Anyways, here the story.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Being able to say that I was going out with Damon Albarn should have been something that brought me nothing but pure and utter joy, which to a large extent it did. With me, Damon wasn’t just Damon Albarn, lead singer of Blur; He was just Damon, the man who bought me flowers without being asked, stayed up late alongside me when I got sick, and a godsend in the bedroom.
The ‘issues’ concerning our relationship had very little to do with him, he was basically as close to perfect as one could get.
The ‘issue’ was that I couldn’t measure up. Financially and in other aspects. My job was as mundane as it could get, an assistant to a shitty boss who gave me more work than I got paid for. I didn’t want to rely on Damon for everything. Sure, he didn’t mind, but that didn’t stop the nagging feeling that I didn’t deserve it. I felt like a gold digger, but without all the looks to go with it.
Damon had the likeness that resembled that of a Greek God. It wasn’t an exaggeration. With his short and unruly, light brown hair; and his electric yet, calming cobalt blue eyes, as soon as he gave you that irresistible smile, just know you were done for. His fans agreed, specifically his female fanbase. I held nothing against them. I was one of them before Damon and I started dating. They were made up of various women, each from different classes and different levels fame and appearance. I remember reading something the other day on some tabloid magazine about Kate Moss saying that she really liked Parklife. The Kate Moss. I knew it was harmless, but knowing that women like Kate Moss, her along with Noami Campbell, the absolute epitome of beauty, knowing that they were around that range of celebrities Damon could easily get access and get a hold of made me feel uneasy.
It wasn’t helped by the fact that Damon and I were spending less and less time together. The amount was decreasing exponentially. With Blur on the constant rise, it was expected that Damon’d be spending more time with the lads in the studio. What I hadn’t anticipated was that the only time we’d see each other would be when we kissed before bed.
It was constant, routine. I felt it lacked the feelings it did in the beginning. It felt more like some odd procedure in a dystopian book. It didn’t feel like we wanted to do it, it felt like we had to.
Tonight was no different. Damon had come back to the flat after a long day of rehearsals. I had gotten back a while back, my boss had gone on early holiday, allowing to me to finally cut back on the unpaid overtime. I sat on our shared bed, my back on the headboard, an opened book in hand. Damon walked in the bedroom, his hair still wet from the shower he’d just taken; he didn’t bother fetching a shirt before pulling up the duvet and going under it. His face inched close to mine, the repetitive and humdrum step process in progress. I placed a finger over his lips, intercepting any and all attempts for his lips to reach mine.
Damon’s eyes shot up, startled by the interruption. “What’s wrong?”
I closed the book, placing it on the nightstand on my side of the bed, before turning fully to face Damon. “Aren’t you tired of this?”
Damon cocked slightly askew; a brow rose. “Tired of what?”
I sighed; I shouldn’t have been surprised. I wanted to be annoyed at him for not comprehending straight away, but the cryptic language wasn’t really much help. “This.” I gestured vaguely between the two of us, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Every night’s the same. I come home from work, you come back from the studio and all we do is kiss then sleep.”
Damon sat up straighter.
“I mean—I don’t even remember the last time we had dinner together, let alone a proper conversation; do you, Damon?”
Damon turned his head, the words hitting him as he tried his hardest to think a time. There was a brief intermission before a finally spoke, saying on a succinct, “No.”
“Damon, I’m spent.” I spoke slowly, heaving. “I wanna spend time with you.”
“I didn’t know you felt that way, I’m sorry, love.” Damon placed both his hands on my cheeks, his soft, yet calloused thumbs, stroked my face gently.
I felt a bit bad when he apologised, it wasn’t his fault.
“Tell you what,” Damon’s fingers at the back of my hair gently played with my lower scalp. “I have rehearsals tomorrow—”
I made a face at that.
“—but,” he continued. “I think the band can manage one day without me.”
A small smile appeared on my face before I could stop it.
“How about we go out for dinner tomorrow evening, uh?”
I nodded. “Yeah, I’d like that.”
“Great,” Damon grinned, “now, can I please kiss you?”
I giggled, pulling Damon close until out lips locked. It felt great. I didn’t feel that sense of nothingness, instead, it felt pleasing, satisfying.
The next day, work had gone by rather quickly, the excitement and eagerness were simply too much. By the time I got home, it was already a quatre past seven. Damon was sat in the living room, smoking beside the opened window in the living room. He placed a small kiss on my forehead before allowing me to get ready. I changed out of my work attire, opting to take a swift shower.
When I zipped up the short black dress I chose, the third one I chose for the evening, standing in front of the restroom mirror, I could see my reflection glancing back at me. I felt disgusted, I did. I probed at my sides and curves, pinching my dress from the back, as if that would magically do something to pacify the thoughts racing through my head. The dress already clung to my body, pulling it added to an almost inability to breath. I wanted to say ‘fuck it’ and leave the restroom, but I couldn’t. When my hand reached for the knob, an almost instant feeling, almost like going into shock. My chest felt tight and my heart was racing, and the moisture growing on the palms my hand would be sure not to give me a very good grip.
My eyes landed on a paper cover of a magazine laying haphazardly on the counter, likely left by Damon. The cover immediately caught my eye, it was a cover of her. Kate Moss. She looked as confident as ever, her attire as striking as her appearance. It didn’t even look like she was trying, she just looked so beautiful. So unlike me.
I felt repulsed, the way Kate’s beauty stared back at me, like it was taunting me the way the magazine stared back at me. I didn’t look good and I didn’t feel good; I couldn’t leave the fuckin’ bathroom, my chest honestly felt like it was about to explode and I felt like barfing. Like it was at the end of my throat, ready to come out. This felt stupid. Something so simple, yet I couldn’t do it.
Three knocks outside the door snapped me out of my thoughts. “Y/N, you alright? You’ve been in there for a while.”
My body jumped slightly, startled. I took a deep breath, wiping the long, thin watery line that I hadn’t realised had fallen from my eyes before opening the door. “I’m fine, Damon.” My voice sounded far from convincing, a bit strained. It would have taken a really big idiot to believe what I had said. I gave him the best smile I could pull.
Damon took one look at my face, one, a look of suspect on his face. “What’s wrong?” He asked again.
“Nothing.”
“You’re lying.”
“Nothing’s wrong, Damon.” My voice unintentionally raised slightly.
To me, it was nothing; To Damon, it was a tall tale sign that something was amiss. “Y/N, I know you.” He took one of his hands in mine. “I know when something’s bothering you, and I told you that you can always talk to me when something’s up. Now, what’s wrong?”
My gaze fell to the floor. “I don’t think I wanna go to dinner anymore.”
I didn’t need to look up at Damon to know the Englishman's brows were furrowed, a sign of his obvious confusion. “What’d you mean?”
I sighed, my eyes briefly met his. I gave the mirror a look before turning back to Damon. “I’m not hungry.”
“There it is again, you’re lying.”
“Honestly, Damon, does it matter? I don’t want to go.” I tried to make my tone sound indifferent, but it wasn’t working. If I couldn’t convince myself, there was no way in hell Damon believed me.
“It does matter. You were looking forward to this, and now all the sudden you don’t wanna go? Tell me what’s bothering you.”
“Isn’t it obvious?” I spoke, in a hushed tone, almost like a whisper. “Look at you, then look at me.”
“What? What’s that supposed to mean?” Damon blinked; cluelessness plastered on his face.
“Damon, you’re beautiful, the 20th century’s Adonis.” My voice trembled, and my speech faltered. “I can’t be your Aphrodite. I’m not beautiful like—” My eyes fell back to the magazine on the counter. “—like her.”
Damon’s eyes followed my gaze and he saw the magazine. With a long sigh, he picked it up, examining it before throwing it back on the counter. “That was what was bothering you?”
My silence and inability to answer his question must have spoken volumes to him.
Damon turned my body to face the mirror. His hand propping my chin up to make direct eye contact with him in the mirror. “You know what I see when I see this face every day?” He inquired; thought I could tell it was meant to be a rhetorical question.
“I see the sexiest woman I have ever laid my eyes on.” He spoke lowly, his voice husky. His was mouth directly beside my ear. “You have never and will never be ‘not beautiful.’”
His ocean blue eyes stared directly at my eyes through our reflection. “You have no idea, do? How incredible you are.”
I felt my heat rising to my face, I could see it in the reflection turning red. I stared at his face, trying to catch a semblance of doubt. All I saw was Damon—my Damon. The patient, loving, and sincere man I fell for.
“Let’s not go anywhere right now, let me show you just how perfect you are—just you and me.” Damon gently pushed me forward, placing my hands on the counter. His hand went on my thigh, slowly rising up, slowly pushing and bunching my dress up. I knew where this was going.
“Damon, I —”
“Shhh...” He pressed slow, sensual, wet kisses along my shoulder, pushing my hair aside to get a better angle.
I hummed in pleasure. When Damon had the dress bunched above my hip, his lips found my ear again. “Let me show you how much I really love you.”
His hand tugged at the hem of my underwear. “You want me to do that?”
I bit my lower lip, nodding.
Damon didn’t need to be told again. His hand went past the waist band and teased the side of my thigh before finding my core. An unintentional moan was released from my mouth when Damon teased my entrance.
“You like that, uh?” Damon smirked. His hand stroked my folds, releasing more moans from me. When his finger found my clit, it was game over.
“Damon —oh —” The pleasure was simply too much.
Then he inserted a finger. I couldn’t think straight. I saw white, it wasn’t the type of white you saw when you were dying, it was the kind you saw when you were being absolutely fucked out of your mind. When his second finger went in, I knew I wouldn’t last long. Especially because he kept hitting that spot.
“So tight...” Damon, using his other hand, turned my head, giving me a sloppy, wet, kiss.
I tried my best effort to kiss him with as much strength as I could muster, but the thrusts of Damon’s fingers made it impossible. I felt myself clench around his fingers, my legs shaking sporadically. I was going to collapse. Damon moved his hand from my face and held me up with his free arm, wrapping it around me to keep me in place. With a final few strings of moans, my head tilted back, the feeling I'd been anticipating finally overcoming my body. My sounds filled the bathroom. When my body finally relaxed, I did my best to catch my breath. Damon kissed my cheek, he turned my around, placing both hands on my shoulders.
“I don’t ever wanna hear you say that you’re anything but beautiful, you hear me?” His voice was stern, serious, with a gentle edge.
“Yeah,” I laughed softly, “Gosh, I look like a mess, don’t I?”
Damon grinned mischievously, a playful glint in his eyes. “You’re no model...but I reckon I’ll live.”
I playful shoved his shoulder, a smile playing at my lips.
Damon pressing a long kiss on my lips. It was full of passion; I felt my feelings being express through the kiss. I knew Damon felt the same way. His hands rested on my waist, while mine tried to pull him closer by the shirt. There was practically no more space between us, but that didn’t stop me from pulling him like there was. Then I felt it. It felt like a poke, something from Damon’s lower torso was poking at my thigh. I broke the kiss briefly, my eyes trailing low. Damon’s boner was in full view, protruding from his jeans. That was when I was certain we weren’t going to dinner that evening.
#damon albarn#gorrilaz#blur#blur band#blur x reader#Damon Albarn x reader#britpop x reader#british man#britpop#fanfiction#Damon albarn x you#battle of Britpop#Britpop x fem!reader#Damon Albarn x Fem!reader#Damon albarn smut
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2 digital pics, one day! When does that ever happen!
#scott pilgrim#wallace wells#wallace wells scott pilgrim#wallace wells art#wallace wells fanart#roxy scott pilgrim#roxie scott pilgrim#roxy richter#roxie richter#roxanne richter#2d gorillaz#gorrilaz#fanart#art#drawing
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Haven't drawn this rat in a while..
(Spooky 2d below)
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Pulp Common People Comic (1996)
Comic by Jamie Hewlett
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Heyyy,could I maybe request a Damon x reader where Damon feels a bit down and tired ,so the reader comforts him and it’s all sweet it’s Christmas time btw .I love your writing so much!!!!!(some people are really creative in requests I had to dig out my skull to formulate a proper sentence)
Movies
Damon Albarn x fem!reader
Summary: a quiet night, where frustration is eased through christmas movies.
Warnings: fluff, none other
Wordcount: 0.7k
Masterlist
Looking up at the wall from her place on the floor, she rolled her eyes as the same melody began playing again. Groaning in frustration as she heard Damon do the same in the room next door.
They’ve both been busy the whole day, whether it be work or last minute Christmas preparations. Both tired and their minds repeating the same melody over and over again like a broken record.
The melody they both began to hate over time.
“What’s wrong this time?” She asked, leaning against the door frame. Watching him slump in his chair with his hand over his face, shaking his head in answer.
“I don’t wanna talk about it,” he finally said, turning towards her and stretching out his hand for her to walk over.
Standing in between his legs, her hands found their way into his hair, running her fingers through it and trying to make him relax. It wasn’t the first time that they’d been in this situation. Damon frustrated over a verse, chorus or melody and her ready to calm him down and get a clear head.
“Okay, then don’t talk about it.” Taking his hand in hers, moving them from her thighs, she pulled him up to his feet. Dragging him towards the living room where a tower of wrapped presents were already waiting for him.
“You’re not gonna make me wrap presents, right? Because you know how terrible I am with it.” It was more of a joke, though the fear of the possibility was visible in his eyes.
“Don’t worry, I’m already finished,” she said, shaking her head in assurance that he didn’t have to do anything.
Sitting down on the sofa, she made him settle down next to her, pressing play on the TV.
“Oh no,” he groaned, rolling his eyes behind closed eye lids, still she could see it. “Do we have to do this?”
“You never watch any movies with me, and when you do, you always fall asleep. So, you’ll watch some Christmas movies with me now,” she insisted, excitement lacing in her tone as the start credits began playing.
“I have this thing-” Damon pointed back to the room where his project was still open, waiting for him and new creativity to make it right.
“The thing you can’t get right? Get your head out of that and at least let me try calm you down. Movies are the best way to shut everything out. Just, watch.” Bumping her elbow with his arm, she raised her eyebrow in suggestion. “I swear, my taste isn’t as bad as you may think it is. Just because I’m younger doesn’t mean I don’t like older things,” she said, winking at him.
A low blush creeping up on his cheeks still. “It’s not that I don’t like your taste in movies, I just don’t like movies as much as you do.”
“Just sit down and try it.”
Reluctantly he settles down next to her, throwing his arm around the head of the sofa and sinking into the cushion. His head already lulling back in wild anticipation.
A low melody began filling the space between them as she settled down and got comfortable next to him. Cuddling into his side and throwing one of her legs over his, which were sitting on the top of the table in front of them.
“If you don’t like it we can turn it off and do something else,” she started talking, overthinking her decision and wondering if it was too much. Was she too persistent in making him watch movies with him?
“Pshh,” he made her go quiet, laying his finger over her mouth to make her shut up. “I’m trying to watch something here.”
Her eyes crinkled as she laughed at his behavior, pressing her face further into his side to stifle her giggles.
“I love you, you know that?” She asked, looking up at him with her head resting on his chest. A bright smile on her face.
“I know,” Damon said, smiling too and leaning down to press a quick kiss on her lips. “I love you too.”
Pulling her closer with his hand around her waist, they focused on the screen in front of them. Letting the scenes play in their order and the story unfold without their input. It wasn’t their story, but it was one to enjoy just as much. The time filled with laughter and reactions of joy and exclamation.
When everything failed to relax, at least movies could make you forget for a few hours.
#damon albarn x fem!reader#damon allbarn fanfic#damon albran x you#damon albarn x reader#damon albarn#blur x reader#blur band#blur#britpop x reader#britpop#britpop fanfic#britpop x you#gorrilaz
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I made a gorrilaz poster!!!
Its not fully ready but i like it :)
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GUYS
HERE ME OUT
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