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#i wish i knew how to make a wider audience care about my shit enough it would be worth it to work on as a living
krembearry · 1 year
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arahcuhghsuisk;ld
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yoongsisbae · 3 years
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Caught! House of Cards - Chapter 2
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WHOA I am amazed by all the love this story has received so far, chapter one has become my most liked post, huh?! I'm in shock, thank you! My thirst for muster Joon fueled this to be released earlier than anticipated, so enjoy! ;)
OT7 yandere!BTS x reader, Yoongi x reader & Taehyung x reader & Namjoon x reader focused this chapter
Warnings: 18+ dark themes, voyeur, masturbation A LOT of it, gaslighting & reader manipulation, shibari, intoxication, dubcon, choking, public nudity, sexual touching in public, dom!Namjoon & sub!reader
Word count: 5.3k
---
You press record and the red light on your webcam lights up. Your heartbeat races as you navigate the House of Cards website. You already have viewers and you’ve only just spent your time staring at the chat. You wish you had picked something sexier as you sit cross legged in an oversized shirt and sleep shorts. You wear a red eye mask to conceal your identity, part of an old superhero Halloween costume you pulled out from the depths of your closet. You felt like a dumbass. ‘Super Girl wouldn’t have to do this kind of shit.’
“Sorry, i-it’s my first time...m-maybe I could take suggestions?” You watch the chat move as you hold your breath. You wanted to sound sexy but you can’t stop stuttering out your words.
You’ve never been more anxious in your life, the ends of your fingers feel numb and you can hear your own pulse thumping in your ears. You’re openly inviting strangers to get off on your body, you’re about to expose yourself in ways you’ve never done before. This isn’t like sending a sexy photo to a boyfriend when you’re feeling needy, this is so much more reckless.
Just when you’re starting to regret doing this, just when you’re about to end the feed and hide in humiliation, a notification ding pulls you away from your thoughts.
Suga: take off your shirt
Your on-screen balance goes from zero to a hundred dollars. You gulp and your eyes go wide at the amount. A hundred dollars just to take your shirt off? That seems too good to be true.
‘Okay, this is what you signed up for, y/n. It's now or never!’ You mentally hype yourself up. You keep your mission in mind, make enough money to keep a roof over your head for this month.
Your shaky fingers find the hem of your shirt “F-for you-” you squint reading the username again, “For you, Suga.” You lift the shirt slowly off your body, exposing the curves of your breasts, revealing your red lace bra to your viewers.
The collar of your shirt gets stuck around your head. You feel like an idiot as you try to wrestle the shirt off your body without pulling off your mask.
---
Yoongi snorts at his screen, his lips curving up into a half smile. He sits behind two computer monitors. He watches as you stutter out apologies to your audience, entertained by your clumsiness.
He peers over his shoulder, to where his friends are playing a game of billiards. “Hey, we have a new one!”
“Oh yeah? It’s been awhile since someone joined.” Namjoon puts his pool stick down and walks over to Yoongi to get a closer look. He laughs, “What is she doing? Is this her first time?”
“It is,” Yoongi hums.
“Ah, well now I’m intrigued.” Namjoon pulls out his cell, quickly pulling up the website on his phone.
Yoongi licks his lips, “I think she’s cute.” He watches another hundred dollars add to your total as someone asks for you to remove your shorts. He notices the username and sends a glare to the man standing over his shoulder.
“What? Just trying to move the show along.” Namjoon gives Yoongi’s shoulder a shake. “You never did like sharing.”
“And you never knew how to properly take care of my toys.”
Namjoon laughs. He studies your figure and the way you move back and forth awkwardly on the bed. You’re trying to find the best pose for your request until you finally decide to lie on your back and lift up your hips, pulling your shorts down and off your legs so you’re in nothing but a bra and panties. He leans over Yoongi’s shoulder, eyes level with his monitor to get a better look at you. “She is very cute. I could have a lot of fun with her.”
Yoongi grunts. He watches you press the cups of your bra together to show your cleavage off for him. The chatroom viewer count jumps into 3 digits. You’re so eager to please your audience, he thinks, jumping at the chance to perform the simplest of requests. And he is eager to learn just how far he can push you.
Yoongi types a reply quickly and hits the donate button. He hears his friend let out a low whistle next to him.
---
A thousand dollars?! Someone just donated a thousand dollars. What the hell?
Suga: spread your legs for me. touch yourself.
Your breath hitches. You watch as another wave of viewers are added to the chat, another trickle of donations following. You feel high from their attention, and the money just keeps on rolling in! You've been so worried and stressed since lockdown happened and now you're almost guaranteed to accomplish your goal, finally something is going right, your heart jumps in excitement. It’s starting to feel...fun. You had discarded your embarrassment along with your clothes, thrown somewhere in a heap on the floor. You lean back on your palms and bring your knees together. You can feel the damp cloth of your underwear rub against your core. You’re ashamed to admit how turned on you are. The higher the viewer count goes the wetter you become. You slowly spread your legs to the camera, reveling in the game you're playing with your faceless admirers. Your eyes read over the chat, taking in all their praises of your body. Flattering compliments intermingled with salacious requests pass by the second, it’s overwhelming, and only serves to fuel your arousal.
---
Your sweet voice plays through Yoongi’s speakers, “Thank you Suga.”
“Oh fuck, she’s so wet.” Hoseok pulls up a chair next to Yoongi and Namjoon. They all stare at the screen, at the center of your light pink panties. There is a noticeable dark spot that propels the chatroom into a frenzy.
“Take a look at that view count, it’s one of our highest this month, right?” Namjoon asks Yoongi. He hums in acknowledgement. “They really have nothing better to do now that we’re all stuck in our homes,” Namjoon jeers.
The three men watch silently as your breathing escalates, taking note of how you shake and moan. Hoseok uses the camera on his phone to zoom in on your face scrunched up in pleasure and takes a snapshot.
Yoongi raises an eyebrow at his friend. “I’m just showing Jin! She’s his type.” Namjoon laughs. Hoseok cocks his head to the side in confusion while Yoongi scoffs.
Of course you're Jin's type, Yoongi thinks. You're so beautiful and Jin loves to treasure beauty. Jin loves to admire his treasures, taking pleasure in finding the cracks within perfection to break them wider. He's going to have to watch out for Jin.
Yoongi’s and Hoseok’s phones ding with a notification. “Did you have to do that?” Yoongi questions Namjoon, starting to feel annoyed. He pasted a link to your stream to the group chat.
“They are probably already watching. Look,” he points to your view count, soaring into the thousands. The man on his side gives him a dirty look.
---
You place your hands inside your bra and panties, still not comfortable enough to bare it all just yet. You cup your breasts and roll your hips into your palm getting off on the friction. Your soaked panties pull on your hips, stretch against your knuckles, revealing parts of you every once in a while to the camera. How many men had their dicks out right now, how many were falling apart with you? The thought made you clenched down on nothing, covering your hand in your essence. You pull your hand away from your core and put your palm in front of the camera, showing off your wet fingers to your faceless admirers.
---
Taehyung groans. You wiggle your fingers to him, traces of your arousal drip in between, he imagines himself licking each digit clean. He imagines his own long fingers stuffing you instead, pulling sweet moans from your lips, you dripping all over him. Fuck he wants to taste you, he bets you taste so sweet, just divine.
His hands fists his hard erection, his tongue between his teeth as he watches you on his laptop. Each time you cry out in pleasure, he thrusts into his clenched fist, imagining your tight cunt wrapped around him instead. Taehyung almost loses it when you let out a needy whine, imagining all the ways he could make you cry and whimper at his hands. He wishes he had you here so he could taste and smell your body, god if you were here he would make you cum over and over again until you cry and beg him to stop.
---
Someone sends you five hundred dollars, the second largest donation of the night.
V: You’re so beautiful
No request, no lewdness, nothing other than the simple phrase that you didn’t realize how much you ached to hear. Your face goes hot. You let your hand speed up. You try to imagine the words spoken, whispered in your ear, focus on them besides the dings of your laptop and wet sounds coming from your soaking core.
You imagine a man on top of you whispering how beautiful he finds you. You throw your head back lost in pleasure, letting your fantasies overtake you until the heat inside you bursts. You gasp and shudder, forgetting about the camera on you, riding out your high for as long as you can. The fantasy man leaves your thoughts as you come back down to earth, alone again in your room. Finally, you open your eyes, staring at the ceiling of your room. The chatroom dings and dings.
Now that you’ve reached your high, the flames of your arousal abruptly extinguishes, an icy current of mortification at what you’ve done hits you in waves. You sit up shakily, wiping the sweat off your brow. Too scared to look at your reflection, you look down at your keyboard instead, trying to steady your breathing.
“Thank you for coming to my first broadcast. I’m going to log off now.”
Instead of shutting off the stream you hold down the power button of your laptop to turn your entire computer off. You lay back down as your phone vibrates with a notification. The total sum of what you made on your first live stream. You can’t believe it, laughing at the ridiculousness of it. You pull the mask off your face and throw the offending material across the room. As you steady your breathing you push down the regret that creeps over you, thoughts that ring in your ears like a lecture from your mother, feeling shame and disgust at what you allowed yourself to become. Whatever, you did what you had to do.
---
It’s an hour before you have to clock out on your last shift of the week. Your manager pulls you aside to speak with you. There’s concern in his voice and a frown etched on his face, “He is here again.”
“Oh,” you grimace, why is he so early?! “He’s, um, here to pick me up.”
Your manager’s eyes go wide. “You’re going to go somewhere with that psycho?”
“I-I can’t say.”
“If it’s money again I can see about getting you some more hours.” He grabs a clipboard off the back wall, flipping through the schedule.
You wince. “No, it’s just something I have to do and then this should all be over and done with. It will be fine.” Will it be fine? You hope so.
He gives you a skeptical look. “Are you sure? You’re sure you’re going to be okay?”
You don’t know, but you nod your head regardless, “Yes.”
“Okay,” He sighs, still looking worried, “I’ll see you Monday?”
You give him a reassuring smile. “See you Monday. Have a good weekend.”
---
An hour later you clock out and Yoongi makes his way next to you. You were grateful he didn’t make another scene, he had sat in the corner sipping on coffee, hardly paying attention to you. He didn’t have to, not when he had your store's camera system connected to his phone.
You look him over, Yoongi looks as posh as ever. He wears all black, and tight pants that show off his, well anyways, why does he have to look so good? You huff, staring anywhere else, motioning your arm, “After you.”
The man gives you a wicked smile and offers you his arm. You resist the urge to roll your eyes, but reach for his elbow. You felt silly in your dirty work clothes holding onto him. Why did you even bother waking up early today to put on a face full of makeup when you just ended up sweating it off?
"Your manager doesn't seem happy to see me," he teases.
"I wonder why..." you send him a glare.
Of course this motherfucker has a Rolls Royce. You grumble next to him. Yoongi opens the passenger’s door for you and you slide inside. When was the last time someone has done that for you? Tinder culture has really screwed you in more ways than one. You watch as he circles to the other side, he looks so powerful and sexy.
Stop, what's gotten into you?! You push down the butterflies fluttering around in the pit of your stomach. When he starts the car, he leans over to you, invading your space and making you flinch.
“Calm down, I’m not going to hurt you.” His eyes travel down your body, “Unless you want me to.” His face is too close to yours, you can feel his breath on your skin as he smirks down at you.
He reaches for the strap of your seat belt, his body now entirely pressed up against yours and he pulls on the strap and buckles it for you. Your face grows hot, it felt like he was teasing you, his presence leaving you as quickly as it came. You swallow down the lump in your throat, wishing you had water for your suddenly dry mouth.
He had smelled good. Manly. It’s been so damn long since you’ve been on a date, under the excuse of social distancing, but really you’ve just stopped trying to go out on boring typical dates with normal boring men so you can have boring vanilla sex. It was a hassle, you had gotten used to the instant gratification from your viewers. But now you had neither. That's why you were so wound up, not because you wanted this smug asshole, no way.
As he reversed, you realize you have to give him your address. You bite your lower lip, thinking what to do. Maybe you can get him to drop you off somewhere close by, but Yoongi is already setting up the GPS with another location.
“Umm, I thought we were going to stop by my house first.”
“Why?”
“So I can change?”
“Not necessary, you can change on the boat. I have clothes for you since I noticed you never cashed my check.” His piercing eyes flash with anger, the accusation making you shift uncomfortably. Cashing Yoongi's check made what was happening feel like a transaction, and you weren't willing to give him that power over you.
“I-I did not agree to get on a boat with you,” you frown, red flags popping up in your head at the thought of being alone in the middle of nowhere, out at sea, with a stranger who says he’ll hurt you if you ask him to.
“You agreed to go to a party with me. That’s how we get to the party, sweetheart.”
Dammit.
---
When Yoongi said boat you didn’t realize he meant yacht. It’s huge. He leads you into the main cabin, there are clothes already laid out for you on the bed.
He shows you how to work the shower before leaving you alone. You know you were washing off the sweat and grime of the day to make yourself presentable for this party of his, but why did you feel like you were cleaning yourself up for Yoongi specifically. It made you feel uneasy. You tried to silence the alarm bells ringing in your head and focus on getting ready. It's just one night out and then you can say goodbye to Yoongi forever.
The dress was black and tight. It hugged your curves and showed off your cleavage. You can admit it was a hot dress and you felt hot in it. It’s exactly the style you like, as if Yoongi had pulled it right out from one of your favorite Pinterest boards. You sigh as you look at yourself in the mirror, the dress came with a set of lingerie that you almost didn’t put on, embarrassed by wearing underwear picked out by a man you knew nothing about. This wasn't like the times you let your viewers choose your outfits for broadcast, this was different...right?
You decide to go all out with makeup, realizing there is no doubt going to be many beautiful people at this party that look as attractive and expensive as Yoongi, so you might as well try to blend in. You put on the finishing touches, a dark red lip, when there’s a knock on the door.
Yoongi walks in, he’s changed too. He's wearing a black button down and black pants, it matches your outfit. Almost all of his fingers are adorned with silver rings. His hair styled in an unkept bedhead way that makes him look younger. You try not to stare or think about how ridiculously handsome he looks.
You look breathtaking, Yoongi thinks, ‘Only one thing missing.’ He pulls out a black choker with a gold pendant from his pocket. “For you, I think it completes the look.” He gives you a genuine smile.
“I-I...Thank you.” you don’t know what else to say. His fingertips graze your collarbones, lighting a trail of fire across your chest. Yoongi clasps the choker around your neck, the pull against your sensitive skin gives you goosebumps. His pointer finger finds its way under your jaw to lift your chin up. “Ready for some fun?” You leave with Yoongi before you have time to inspect his present, notice that on the gold heart pendant there are initials delicately scrawled in the middle. ‘MYG’
---
You enter the party mesmerized. An island. A mansion. A secret paradise. A place where the party never needed to end.
The hall is decorated from top to bottom in gold and crystal, intricate glass centerpieces and art at every corner, but what caught your eye and made your heart drop into the pit of your stomach was an entirely different kind of centerpiece. Around the main room, suspended from the ceiling, gold ropes dropped in a dozen different areas. The most beautiful women you’ve ever seen hung under spotlights, the rope tied in intricate patterns around their naked bodies, each placed in a different position. Saliva pooled inside your mouth as you watched in awe.
Party goers gravitated to them, watching the women as they ate finger food and drank. Yoongi’s breath tickled the back of your neck as he whispered in your ear. “You look like you want to join them,” His dark eyes narrowed on you.
“I’m just admiring the view,” you try to act unaffected by his words, “Don’t get your hopes up. I’m hungry,” you whine, changing the subject, you let Yoongi pull you through the crowd.
---
Jungkook grips his wine glass so tight the stem breaks in half, the glass pieces cutting the palm of his hand. He is so full of rage he barely feels the sting, letting the blood drip on his expensive suit. That conniving little man Yoongi has his hands all over your body. How did he have you? Had this been his plan all along? Did Yoongi convince you to leave the site so he could have you all to himself? And you fell into his trap! Jungkook knows it’s not your fault for being manipulated, he knows how devious his business partner can be, but he wants to punish you just the same. He has to tell someone. Taehyung will know what to do! He searches for his friend, before he goes straight to Yoongi and kills him instead.
---
“Min, please introduce us to your date!” The crowd parts as two men advance towards Yoongi. You were just getting used to Yoongi’s cold reserved demeanor when his friends’ beaming playful attitude catch you off guard. The pair is full of energy, they commanded attention, and you could tell by their looks they most certainly were used to being in the center of it.
“You know who she is,” Yoongi rolls his eyes, his hand around your waist pulling you closer to him. What did he mean? Were they-
“But we haven’t formally met! I’m Hoseok, you can call me Hobi.” He winks at you and gives you a bright smile. “This is Jimin!”
‘Jimin.’ That name is familiar to you. No way, this beautiful man is not your Jimin. Not one of your top donators Jimin. No way in hell-
“I’m so happy to have finally met you in person, Dahlia.” Jimin holds your hand in his and brings your fingers to his lips, giving you a small wink. Oh my god he’s attractive. This is the same man who paid you for late night private chats, crying about how lonely he was, he is that Jimin. You’re so astonished you don’t even register the way Yoongi’s fingers dig into your hip in jealousy.
Hoseok and Jimin are fun. The three of you drink another round of sparkling champagne as the duo takes turns telling you wild stories, making you dissolve into a fit of giggles. Yoongi sips on his whisky while he watches the three of you roar with laughter. He doesn’t mind, he uses their charm to his advantage. As expected around the extroverted pair you start feeling more comfortable, you let your guard down around Yoongi, so Yoongi doesn’t mind. You're his date after all, you’re his.
“Looks like everyone made it!” Jimin waves at a trio of men headed towards your group.
“Almost everyone,” Yoongi corrects. He drapes his arm over your shoulder and you lean into him, your body swaying from the alcohol in your system. Yoongi delights in the way the men looked at you in his arms, the visible shock and anger on their faces. “Y/n, this is Seokjin, Taehyung, and Jungkook.”
You nod in their direction, barely regarding them, instead giggling at Jimin who is making a funny face at you trying to steal your attention.
“Namjoon says he’s sorry he couldn’t make it, something came up.” Taehyung addresses Yoongi.
Yoongi frowns at the information, it’s not like Joon to change plans so suddenly.
“I need to use the restroom, excuse me.”
“I’ll show you where it is,” Yoongi begins to take you, but Taehyung’s hand grips Yoongi’s shoulder, pulling him back. “Let the lady go, it’s been so long since we’ve all seen you, Yoongi. I missed my friend. You can make your way, right baby?”
Six heads turn to look at you and you feel hot under their intense stares. “Um, yea-yes, I’ll be right back.” You leave before Yoongi can protest.
---
This place is huge. You can’t remember how you found the bathroom or how to get back to Yoongi, and the room felt like it was spinning. The party had become louder, more obnoxious as drugs and alcohol loosened everyone’s inhibitions.
You shouldn’t have drank so much, you didn’t realize how much alcohol Jimin and Hobi had been feeding you until it was too late, and now you could barely make out people’s faces. What are you going to do? Yoongi had your cell in his pocket, why did you give it to him? Jimin had grabbed it out of your hand to put his contact information in, and handed it back to Yoongi instead. You didn't even protest, you were too busy being mesmerized by Hoseok as he swayed his hips to the music playing, rolling his body to the beat.
You lean against an empty space of wall, between two couples obnoxiously making out. You’re all alone in a strange house with no way to call for help, the gravity of your situation hits you all at once and your head begins to throb.
Maybe if you can make it to the second floor you can spot Yoongi and the others in the crowd. You stumble your way to the stairs, hoping your plan works.
You see Yoongi. The bastard is still drinking his whisky while his friend’s banter amongst themselves. You exhale, finally calming down. The fresh air away from everyone helps to take away your dizziness. You watch the six men, they are all so good looking. They have to be the most attractive men at the party. You didn’t notice how intimidating the group looks, finding it funny how party goers instinctively keep their distance from them.
The three new men are tall and big, they could be models, or maybe athletes, you should have paid attention when Yoongi was introducing you to them. What were their names, Junhyung? Taejung? If Yoongi was a House member, and Jimin was a House member, could they all be...no.
You’re about to turn to leave when hands cover your mouth and grab at your waist. Your scream is completely muffled out behind the stranger’s large hand.
He holds you in a suffocating embrace, covering both your mouth and nose, you realize you really cannot breathe. You try to pry his hand off your face but it’s impossible, he’s too strong and too big, easily overpowering you. The air in your lungs is trapped inside of you as you try to scream. Is this how you die?
“Hey baby.”
‘RM.’ The last time you met him, you had your vision taken, so you could never forget the unmistakable deep rumble of his voice.
Your mind is reeling. You stop fighting against his hold and he finally removes his hand, placing it around your neck instead. You gasp and cough out, inhaling air quickly, afraid your breath will be taken away again.
You guess it made sense, first Jimin now RM, were all the party goers members too? The thought terrified you. You had no idea what your viewers looked like, yet they all knew what you looked like naked. Just how many knew who you were? It made you queasy, you shudder against RM. RM, a top donator, plastered against your back, it felt like a fever dream.
You remember all the times you flirted with him behind the protection of your computer screen, now there were no digital barriers to stop his advances. No house rules to lessen his stifling touches.
“I missed you, baby. I’m a little upset you stayed away for so long, but seeing you here dressed up so pretty, like a present I get to unwrap, I can forgive you.” The hand that held your waist down against him traveled up your stomach, between your breasts, until it settled around your neck as well. “I’m so so glad you came back to us.” His deep velvet voice rumbled in your ear, making your legs tremble.
His strong fingers begin to massage your neck. It feels so good, you bite back a moan. Namjoon rubs deep circles into your shoulder blades. You can’t help but melt into his relaxing massage, your nerves had been wound so tightly before, his expert fingers finding each knotted muscle in your back. You try to sneak a glance behind you, but every time you try, Namjoon’s hands find your jaw, keeping your attention forward.
“How is Yoongi treating you?” RM knows Yoongi? You felt so out of the loop, you tried to make sense of it all but you could only concentrate on the way his fingers pressed against your skin.
“He’s being a perfect gentleman.”
“A 'gentleman,'” Namjoon laughs, “Are we talking about the same man?” You roll your head as his fingers work the tense muscles of your neck. His thumb runs underneath your choker, ever so slightly tightening the fabric around your skin. “He was planning to keep you all to himself,” Namjoon tuts.
Anger erupts inside of him as he notices the piece of jewelry, and he pulls you into another crushing embrace, his hands underneath the curves of your breasts. “Now what would he do if he saw you in my arms, hmm?” He makes you walk back to the balcony, hands groping your chest and body pressing you forward into the banister. Truthfully, you’re scared of what Yoongi would do if he saw you, you had no idea what he was capable of, but the pleasure RM was giving you was hard to fight against.
“RM, please...” you don’t know what you’re begging him for, to let you go, to touch you more.
“Look at him.” His voice deepens, his authoritative tone makes you whimper in his arms.
His arms travel to your waist, his fingers pulling at the hem of your dress, lifting it tortuously slow. His fingertips ghost over your lace panties. “Look at how wet you are, dirty girl.” He pulls them down your thighs. If anyone were to look up, they’d see you completely bare. The thought makes you pulse.
Taehyung and Jungkook had come to Namjoon to tell him what Yoongi had done. Namjoon almost felt bad, Yoongi was like a brother to him, so Namjoon knew how much he cared about you. But why would he parade you around in front of the others, like a sweet treat on a platter? Yoongi surely knew them all well enough to know they'd want to take a bite.
“Now keep your eyes on Yoongi, what is he doing right now?”
You start to speak and Namjoon pushes two fingers inside you, all the way in to his knuckles. You let out a gasp, and he pinches the sensitive skin of breast through your dress. “Answer daddy, baby girl.”
You fight back tears, your mouth goes dry as you try to hold yourself together. “H-he’s talking to Hobi.” Namjoon inserts another finger into you at the nickname you use for his friend, the stretch is bordering on painful, making you cry out. You try to stifle your whimpers, it just turns Namjoon on even more. He grinds his erection into your ass. His smell, his dirty words, his roughness, you've forgotten how much you craved it.
“Hobi, is it? When did you and him become so friendly? Baby, you’re making me jealous. Is that what you want?” With three fingers inside you, he sets a punishing pace. It’s been awhile since you’ve felt so full. Perhaps the last time you truly felt like this was by RM himself. You pulse around his fingers at the memory. Your legs shake as his thumb finds your clit, pressing into your sensitive hood. “P-please…”
“Please what?”
“Please let me cum, Daddy.”
He groans in your ear. “Hmm no.” He pulls his fingers out of you, you hold onto the banister as your orgasm escapes you. Your body shakes with need.
“You’ll come find me later tonight, won’t you, baby girl?” His warmth leaves your body, when you turn around no one is there.
---
Oh my so many questions, not many answers. Will you see your manager on Monday? Lol thank you again for enjoying my story, let me know what you think! <3
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Tide Pools (1/6/2021)
Click here if you’re like “What the heck is this about?”
Alastor and Angel Dust @sluttyspiderpolkacock (and the same adorable baby featured here) hang out around a tide pool. Angel shares (with some coaxing) some of his worries re: Valentino following this little incident, and Alastor brainstorms with Angel possible ways to keep him safe—from adjusting his contract with Valentino to fleeing Pentagram City to getting an effective weapon that could take Valentino down a peg.
And the baby eats a crab.
(This is also where Angel gets access to the holy water that he uses here.)
Alastor
At long last, Alastor had finally gotten antsy enough to pull out his bathing suit and meander down to the beach to explore it properly. He’d found a little path right next to the ocean in the shade of the estate, and it had some tide pools he’d been examining with interest.
Unfortunately, being in the shade like this and having his arms and legs exposed to the breeze for the first time in decades meant he was chillier than he’d planned on. Detached from Hell as he currently was, he didn’t want to waste his energy warming himself. He wished he’d foregone the bathing suit and kept his coat...
Something billowy covered him up from above.
He jumped up and flipped it off with a startled trumpet sound effect, identified it as a coat, looked around, looked up, and looked back at the coat. Sure, that’d do.
He pulled it on, folded up the cuffs so they didn’t dangle over his hands, tied the two spare sleeves around his waist like a sash, and crouched down to study the tide pool again.
Angel
As the damned thing flew out of his sight, Angel gradually felt the ability to breathe return to his control. Deep breaths now. He could stay with Seapup a little longer. Gently, he threaded those chubby limbs through his spindly claws and pulled him to his fluff to warm him. Happy thoughts now... little sleepy Veci burbles... waves crashing against the rocks - - -
**And a loud, sudden TRUMPET.**
Pelagios started to stir. Then, mouth scrunched up before all four eyes popped open, he began to cry.
" _OHNONONOOO!_ " Angel cooed with a gather of the orange ball into his arms, " It's ok! I'm here! I'm SORRY, MIO BAM_BINO!_ Back ta sleep? Can ya sleep? Fa me? C'mon, let's go back to sleep. " He then rolled to his side and got up to pace the room, lightly bouncing and swaying the baby Veci to try and get him to calm. " Water? Ya wanna see the water, Baby? Yeah? Ok, let's go see what the jazz band's all about, ok? "
Smiling and making faces, Angel made his way to the balcony and perched himself over the edge to give Pelagios a taste of the sea air. With a little swaying and some light humming, it seemed to work long enough for Angel to let himself peruse the view. Sea... sands... sunlight like glitter over the waves... tidepools...
" ... Alastor? " Catching sight of a figure wearing Valentino's coat almost gave him a HEART ATTACK, but piecing together the features of his local Radio Demon pulled the biggest sigh of relief from deepest recesses of his lungs. " What'cha doin' down there in... that? "
Alastor
Alastor looked up. "Oh, hello! I thought I remembered this coat! I think the better is question is what is *this* doing down here with *me*?" He straightened up. Check out that snazzy 1920s swimsuit. Complete with skirt. "I appreciate that it didn't have *you* in it this time, but how many times do you plan to assault me with this coat?"
Angel
" _As many times as it takes fa ya t' learn ya lesson,_ " he teased darkly before laughing and shaking his head, " They were both accidents! Like this one! _Say ' hi ' to Uncle Alastor ~_ " Angel then tilted little Pelagios towards him. Too sleepy to do much more than yawn, Angel wagged a finger beneath his paw to mimic a wave. " I was just, uh, swingin' around. Practicin' m'coat flingin'. Y'know, job stuff! And got a lil' carried away! "
His ability to lie was getting worse and worse. He couldn't even look him in the eye and instead smiled off into the sky.
" Suits ya, though! Just ya color an' e'rythin'. Go ahead an' keep an eye on it so it doesn't get the better a ya again, yeah? "
Alastor
"Unfortunately for us all, I'm utterly incorrigible! You'll have to spent the whole trip pelting me with clothing."
*Uncle Alastor.* He wasn't sure he liked the sound of that when it was in reference to some stranger's baby. But he endured it with grace and dignity.
"Coat flinging. Really." Do you hear his skepticism. "I suppose there's a precise technique to it, is it. Minute differences in the wrist flick that communicate different forms of sexual desirability."
Angel
" Yeah! Totally! Look. " Perfectly balanced upon the railing, Angel extended a limp wrist and an immaculately straight leg in a striking pose. " _Queer..._ " He then shifted into bent arms and legs. Reek that raw masculinity. " _Drinks nothin' but beer!_ "
In a fit of laughter, he drew his knees back together and tossed his chin to the sky. Pelagios didn't seem to find it worth acknowledging, but Angel thought he was hilarious and doing an _exceptional_ job.
" Dunno what I was goin' for, but it did _somethin'_, didn' it? Look at'cha, all cozy ~ " He then leaned over his knees with the sincerest espression since the start of the conversation. " So ya just out explorin' ? "
Alastor
Uh-huh. Alastor kept giving Angel a skeptical look. "And I suppose you do many shows where you're called upon to strip while acting as aggressively heterosexual as possible."
He perked up at the question. "Yes! I found crabs!" He pointed at the tide pool. "They look *exactly* like Earth crabs."
Angel
" I used t' be a HIT at bachelorette parties, MIND YA! " he insisted snarkily before swiveling his hips off the balcony and dropping down, a slumbering Seapup still in tow. He then walked up to the pools and copped a curious squat.
" Oh shit, y'ain't kiddin'... " Angel mused with a lean almost too far. Perhaps the scent of fresh food riled him, as Pelagios _immediately_ bounded off his chest and dove straight for a crab. Eyes blew wide and multiple sets of arms flailed in a panic to keep him from falling in and dampening his fluff.
Alastor
An announcer’s recorded voice rang out, “*And they’re off!*” Ding ding ding! A crowd roared in excitement! Alastor leaned in to watch the seapup go after the crabs. Angel can look after himself, this is way more interesting.
Angel
Angel scanned the contents of the pool with hawk - like precision. Nothing seemed too nefarious, especially not up against Pelagios happily burbling on fresh crab guts, triumphantly circling the pool on his back like an otter. He exhaled his held breath and fell back.
" Jesus fucking christ... " he wheezed, " He was OUT COLD all but TWO SECONDS AGO! " Oh he is _BEAT._
Alastor
“Look at him taking his victory lap! What a champion!” Alastor leaned forward to grin down at the seapup. “You’re a vicious little killer, aren’t you? Well done!” If he had been worried for Pelagios’s safety, he sure wasn’t showing it.
Angel
A big, grinning face! The little veci copied it as best as his his little jaws could and propelled his tail towards Alastor's perch. He knew praise when he heard it and was beginning to learn that sharing was caring. So he offered a couple legs, waving them both in his chubby paws like flags.
Alastor
"Is that for me!" He plucked the legs out of seapup's hands. "Why, thank you very much! Quite hospitable of you." He offered one to Angel and crunched down straight on the other, like some kind of freak who eats crab shells, Alastor what's wrong with you. "I hope these aren't toxic! Want one?"
Angel
Angel peered over his fluff and sat up just as Pelagios turned tail to playfully harass another crustacean of some sort. " The fuck're you - ? " He rose a brow but nonetheless took the crab leg and started taking it apart. " Ya... supposed t' eat the fuckin' SHELL? It'd be a lil easier to think you can chomp on, uh, GRASS, but crab shells?? Ya can TAKE THAT?  "
Alastor
“You’re not *supposed* to, no. But it’s very satisfying!” Crunch, crunch, crunch. Enrichment. “... I probably shouldn’t swallow it, though.” Don’t mind him as he spits the pieces back out. Never take this man to a fancy restaurant.
Angel
He laughed out loud. " Yeah? Ya THINK? " he responded through giggles, half teasing, half validating. He then pulled the meat and returned the shell so Alastor could have his fun, " Don't choke, ok? Wouldn't wanna be givin' ya ribs another poundin' so soon. "
Alastor
“Don’t lie, you’re just waiting for another excuse!” Crunch. ... Crunch. All right, it stopped being satisfying. Once the novelty and shock value wore off, it didn’t really have much to offer. He tossed the rest of the leg into the tide pool.
Angel
" Now ya just bein' ridiculous ~ " he said dramatically with a fish through the tidepool, " I can deal a beatin' whenever I want, AND get paid t' do it. I don't NEED to be settin' anythin' up fa YOU. "
He then pulled something out. A sponge. A big one. _Definitely wider than Alastor's throat._ And a big, mischievous grin to go with it. " Bet'cha can't swallow this whole ~ " he joked with a crack of his neck as if to ready himself for the pounce.
Alastor
“Sure, but it wouldn’t be a beating for *me,* would it? It wouldn’t be half as satisfying for you!”
He eyed the sponge critically. “Hm... No, probably not!” Bait not taken. That thing didn’t look the *least* bit edible.
Angel
" Kiddin'! I was KIDDIN'! " he assured with a toss of the sponge back into the pool, " Ya really thought I was gonna shove this salty thin' down ya - ? "
And Pelagios volleyed it back, saturated with sea water. It deflated flatly against the side of his head and emptied enough water to drench him with. Hello, karma.
Alastor
The studio audience laughed obnoxiously.
Smiling politely and totally ignoring Angel's plight, he said, "No, I didn't—but I'm not putting it past you to hope I'd shove it down my *own* throat."
Angel
Angel raked his wet bangs off his face and rolled his eyes. It probably wasn't very noticible, but all eight went. " Tsk, even if ya DID call my bluff, I wouldn't 'ave LET YA. I wouldn't do ya like THAT! I wouldn' even let ya SELF, _do ya like that._ "
Alastor
“I’d like to see you try to stop me!” As a reward for misbehavior, Alastor plucked another tiny crab out of the pool and offered it to the seapup. Here, kid, you earned it.
“So! I’ve been just *dying* to find out—why the delayed arrival? Didn’t you have work?”
Angel
" That was the whole joke! " Angel exclaimed with a wringing of his hair as Pelagios happily crunched the crab and started playing with the legs.
A rich, sea breeze coursed over the pools and followed the shiver down his spine. " I did, " he said simply, " Then changed my mind. Big V didn' stop me. " Basically the truth, omitting the fact that he'd _tried_ to stop him.
Alastor
“Really? The kind of taskmaster who has his employees working on Christmas?” Alastor quirked an eyebrow. “Didn’t stop you, or didn’t have an opportunity to stop you?”
Angel
He leaned back on his hands and crossed his legs, eyes narrow and subtly flickering in his direction from the sides. " ... _Yeah - !_ " The reply came in a curt exhale. " He could'a stopped me if he wan'ed to. Ya really think I could ever get the better of a brass like 'im if he 'ad anythin' t' say about it? "
Alastor
“Now, that’s a careful question. Do I think you could get the better of him if he had something to say about it? No. Do I think you could get the better of him *without* giving him a chance to say something about it and then decide what to do when you get back? Possibly.” Alastor had been wondering about the abruptness of Angel’s arrival. And he didn’t know a lot about Valentino—had never *cared* to learn much about him—but he suspected Valentino kept a tight leash on Angel’s diet, even more strongly suspected Valentino took more than his fair share of Angel’s earnings, and didn’t-even-have-to-suspect at least a couple of the gross indignities Valentino put his own business partner/lover through.
Maybe aside from a little obsession over nutrition and garden-variety unjust wages, everything was aboveboard; but it was enough to make Alastor suspicious of the idea that Valentino would willingly let his star employee go at the last minute during an extermination.
Angel
" WELL! Ain't YOU a SMA'T COOKIE! " he growled, " If ya think ya got me all figured out already, what's the poin' a askin', huh? Like hearin' yaself TALK? Get some sorta, OFF from makin' me out t' be some BITCH? " He'd twisted in Alastor's direction and raked a claw through the natural rock they were perched upon. A deep snarl twitched over the precious metal in his mouth. It was the most direct he'd been with him since arriving. And sudden, as if Alastor had abruptly shown in a secret, sacred place of his and made him scream.
" Well I ain't - ! " And he SNEEZED over his shoulder. Cold breeze, wet fur, and his high body temperature started giving him the shakes, making his beligerence anything but threatening. Brows scrunching in annoyance, he held up a finger in pause, sneezed a couple more times, and stared blankly. " ... Fuck was I? " Train of thought? _Derailed._
Alastor
Oh, hit a nerve, had he? Very sweetly, Alastor said, “I believe you were in the process of lambasting me for implying you were someone’s b[*BEEP*].” Isn’t he helpful. “Which isn’t what I meant to imply at all! Only that the fact that you *took* a liberty doesn’t necessarily imply he willingly *gave* it!”
Alastor stood, untied his sleeve-sash, and shrugged off the coat so he could offer it back to Angel. He was wet and sneezing, he needed it more than Alastor. “I don’t think I’ve figured out anything! All I know is that you plummeted out of the ceiling and that three out of the scant four facts I know about your boss are synonyms for ‘he’s a control freak.’ The rest, I can only learn from you. I didn’t want to be so *direct* with my insinuations, but I was starting to worry that if we got much more *in*direct, I’d never solve this mystery.”
Angel
Eyes glued to the rock, Angel took the coat and threw it over his entire person like a tent. " Fine. I left wit'out permission. Ok? " he muffled from beneath the thick velvet mass, " I couldn' do another night, 'specially not that one. 'Aight? Ya satisfied wit' 'at? Ya mystery solved, Prancy Drew? "
The bump started to shrink as he drew in his knees and curled into himself. He wasn't lying when he said he thought Alastor was smart, but it started to _worry_ him how _transparent_ he really was while he strived to draw an iron curtain around his occupational ( personal ) life.
Alastor
“Really? Prancy Drew? I would have gone for Sherlock Hooves, personally!” A light laugh. Ahhh, he shoulda been a comedian.
“That covers act one!” He crouched down again. “What worries me more is act two. What happens when we go back?”
Angel
" Not buppidy enough, " he replied monotonously before falling silent a few beats, " ... ... ... I dunno. I... didn' plan it. I don't even... " ~~Know if I CAN go back.~~ " I dunno. I'll... figure it out later - "
The mass grew a couple inches. " The fuck are _you_ worried about? This ain' got nothin' t' be doin' wit' you. "
Alastor
“You dare accuse *me* of being *worried*?” He planted a hand on his chest, scandalized. “Anyway, I could have asked you the same after you hauled me from the bar to your room! You owe me this one! Or I owe you one, whichever direction this thing goes.”
And Alastor was worried it *might* have something to do with him. If Valentino decided he needed to come confront his wayward worker—and if Charlie expected Alastor to be the one blocking the front door.
Angel
" They was ya exact words! " the bump exclaimed comically with a visible lean towards him, " I told ya, it didn' FEEL RIGHT t' leave ya in the middle a the hotel like a bump on a log, yeah? That's just _decency_ where I'm from. You don't gotta... "
Angel swallowed thickly as he tried to wrap his head around _whichever direction._ Was he looking to pay it forward? Simply get even in the transactional sense? The latter sounded more like him. The notion that he wanted the satisfaction in turn for doing someone a favor felt like it was _completely_ off the table, so they likely weren't going _there..._
_And his head started to spin._ " ... Ya don't gotta worry about m'boss... or my job... Ya already bought me some hours... That's... good... " _**SNIFFLE.**_
Alastor
A pause. “You’re right! *I* accused me of being worried! I don’t know how I’ll recover from this betrayal.”
Oh, no, was Angel about to get emotional? Alastor hoped that sniffle was from the damp. “Oh... don’t give me the credit, you bought yourself these hours.” He attempted an awkward shoulder pat. “Unless you mean back on Christmas, sure, although I don’t think that has much to do with this situation—” His eyes brightened. “Say now, how’s that for an idea? Go back and claim that at the last minute you got paid better to be somewhere else, give him his cut, do you think that would make all this blow over? You’d have to tell me, I don’t know him.”
Angel
Angel gasped with a violent flinch upon contact, frantically drawing the coat from over him as if he were drowning. Not being able to see Alastor coming was a mistake, but through a shot of wide eyes, Angel insisted nothing untoward happened. He clenched the bundled material in his lap and anchored his sights to it, shaking his head solemnly.
" His call tops e'rythin'. He wants me somewhere, I don't get t' tell 'im I got a better idea. It don't - ... it doesn't work like that. N - ... _no amoun' a cash's gonna fix what I did._ "
Alastor
Alastor pulled his hand back and raised them both up, palms out. Okay, no touching.
So he was more power-hungry than money-hungry. Pity. But something about Angel's reply rubbed Alastor wrong. *Fix what I did.* That sounded less like a fear caused by what Valentino was like and more like a fear cause by what Angel had done—and that made Alastor wonder whether what he'd done was something worse than simply skipping out on a shift. "And... what *is* it that you did, exactly?"
Angel
He didn't know why, but seeing both Alastor's hands up made him deal a double high - five. _See? Touch is fine! I can TOTALLY do it JUST FINE! HUZZAH!_
But his eyes stayed low, corners of his mouth twitching. It was hard to tell if he was about to burst out laughing or crying. Claws closed over his cheek and he turned his head towards the sea, as if the words he were about to say were the ashes of his soul to be put to rest.
He mumbled, " I broke outta the top story window, let the angels in, crashed 'ere. 'Splains the glass. "
Alastor
Alastor actually laughed at the double high-five. Okay! Unexpected, but entertainingly so!
And then let out another sharp bark of a laugh at the confession, less out of amusement and more out of surprise. “Well! You know how to make an exit, don’t you! Maybe you’ll get lucky and the angels will take care of the problem for you, eh? But I wouldn’t bet money on it.”
Angel
His cheeks rose in a weak smile that reached his eyes and not much else. " No... the angels wouldn' get 'im... He'd throw all of us to 'em first. Bet all our lives b'fore we even get a chance t' take a count. " ~~_Basically what *I* did..._~~ Angel winced at the realization.
Alastor
“Oh, keep your fingers crossed—who knows, maybe he had fifty meat shields and the exterminator that gets in will have a quota of fifty-one sinners to meet!” But there are no lucky breaks in Hell.
“Do you know what you’re going to do when you get back?”
Angel
" Don't matter i got _six_ to cross... he's still gonna be there, for sure... Waitin' fa me... " He pawed at the mass of hearts in his lap, raking through them, attempting to disrupt their pattern but they remained.
" ... Lookin' fa me. I don't - ... I don't KNOW. I _can't_ go back, but... What 'appens to a Sinner outta Hell too long? You're a magic man. Ya can pick up shit runnin' through Heaven, yeah?? What's it look like? " By this point, he'd crawled over the coat and put a tentative hand on the rock beside his hoof, pleading at him for an answer that'd lead to his least painful existence.
Alastor
His smile turned sad, without his noticing. “I can detect signals from Heaven. I’ve never been able to figure out how to understand them.” He sighed. “But, I do know what happens to sinners outside of Hell: same thing that happens to any soul in the mortal realm. You’d be a ghost. For now, you’ve got enough energy from Hell to sustain a visible, physical form—but over time, it will run low. Once you’re out, you’ll be another intangible spirit, detectable by the average human only as a shadow or an eerie feeling unless you find a source of energy to leech off of and study how to channel it. Maybe it would be different here instead of Earth, with so much more magic around that’s easier to absorb, but that remains to be seen.”
A vague shrug. He could ask Alexander, once he got the hang of drawing power through his radio, whether he collected power more easily here than Earth; and when Sir Pentious started living here for longer periods of time, if he ever got up to weeks, months away from Hell, Alastor could ask about his energy and whether he had to do anything to sustain it; but right now there was too much unknown.
“But visitors to Earth, angelic and demonic alike, are always on the lookout for fugitives. Usually, they’re just souls who didn’t pass over. They’re hauled in to their respective afterlives and that’s the end of it. I don’t know what they’d do with escapees.”
Angel
Angel swallowed thickly. " _I couldn' do that..._ " he whispered lowly, " _I'm too fuckin'... STUPID t' read through all that technical... spiritual... SHIT...!_ " Surely that wasn't the reason, despite how unintuitive it'd be for him. It was moreso his own frustration talking. His lack of tact. His inability to fully consider the consequences of his actions. Not to mention, REALIZE what he was doing until he'd already DONE IT. His instincts had protected his immediate future, but DOOMED him in the long haul.
" So I'd just... go back... no matter what... I can't just be ghostin' fo'ever... "
He melted into the ground, two sets of claws masking his face and wrenching through his hair. If he couldn't escape any kind of persecution, he'd take his chances with the angels... " No one... who's rumbled with the angels ever came back, huh...? " If Extermination Day was going to be his LAST, there's so MUCH he would've done ( most of which included hunting down all the people he already wanted to KILL, but nonetheLESS... )
" So that's it. Hide out 'ere until the angels find me. Take me back. Do whatever they're gonna do t' me. That's all I can do not to 'ave ta... _face 'im._ "
Alastor
“If it helps, I don’t think ghosts are given a how-to manual, and most of them get the hang of it.” But what did he know, he’d never been a ghost.
Alastor grimaced at that. “Well. No one who’s ever been executed by an angel has ever been *un*-executed. But people have survived close calls.”
He settled himself more comfortably, they were going to be here a while. “The way I see it, you have several options. One—“ ding, “—hide on Earth as a ghost. Some ghosts get away with it for centuries. Again, I don’t know if escapees are given higher priority than souls that have never left the mortal realm—but I’ve never met an imp who was *enthusiastic* about hauling in wayward souls.
“Two—“ ding, “—hide *here* as a ghost. Unless the powers that be *try* to hunt escapees on Okkylk—and if they were going to, we probably would have found out when Sir Pentious started spending nights here instead of Hell—angels and demons might never visit this planet. Why would they? It’s possible you could hide here indefinitely.
“Three—“ ding, “—hide in another ring of Hell. I have connections that can sneak sinners out of Pride. But being a sinner on the lam in another ring has its own perils, as you could imagine. I’ve turned back mid-trip if going forward meant putting myself in a position where I couldn’t walk back to Pride on my own two feet if I had to—I doubt you’d have that luxury.
“Four—“ ding, “—throw yourself on the mercy of somebody stronger than Valentino. If you happen to know any dukes who like to blow thousands on you and would be moved to tears by your terrible plight, now’s the time to dial them.
“Five—“ ding, “dye your fur, learn a new accent, change your identity, and go under cover.
“*Six—*” ding, “erase him before he can get his hands on you.
“And any of those could be combined to *great* effect with faking your own extermination. If you have any limbs you’re not fond of, all you’d have to do is toss one in a little pile of gore near where you were last seen!”
Angel
" I ain't gonna be taken by no fuckin' _IMP,_ " he grumbled, but seemed to relax some beneath the comforts of someone thinking for him when he had such shortened foresight. Slowly but surely, he started to remember who he was. " I ain't gonna _hide_ fo'ever either. I worked too fuckin' hard makin' m'name. If it'd all be fa nothin', I'd rather fuck off into extermination. "
Yet, the sternness of his words contradicted the shuddering, the fading pink of his bodily markings into the faintest grey.
" I know... some demons... but they're all either frien's a Big V's , or ain't gonna wanna make beef wit' 'im fa anythin'. Or care to if it's gonna mean they're losin' all the rest a his business. An' I'd be... in the same spot... caterin' to their e'erythin' an' if I don't - "
He stopped himself and curled up on his side.
" Madame... could... an' would, but she's got a deal wit' 'im I can't fuck with. I got a lot goin', but wit'out 'im I ain't got much t' bargain. He owns... ALL I got under contract. Everythin' but m'soul. "
Alastor
Everything but his soul. Alastor was silent a moment as he contemplated that, staring out over the ocean. Finally, he said, “Greedy. You wanted to have everything and you wanted it as fast as possible, didn’t you?” His tone wasn’t scolding.
“What are the terms of your contract? Any buy-back provisions, any terms under which it would immediately become void?”
Angel
" No... it was... slow... " he responded with an evasive weakness, " Yeah, I've always wanted t' be a star. Since I was human. But when I first dropped 'ere, I was... _fine._ Doin' what I was doin'. Workin' bars, streets, weapons. Until he showed me I could be more. An' I believed 'im when he said we was gonna be a _team._ "
He trailed off.
" I trusted 'im. Wit' everythin'. _And he wrung me the FUCK OUT fa E'ERYTHIN' I got._ There's... no way out. He 'ad me agreein' t' shit I shouldn't've. The way he talks an' the things he does... It's what he does. He can get ya agreein' t' anythin' he wants wit' just, a flick of his DAMN WRIST until he's covered all 'is bases. An' ya can't fight 'im anymore. Ya _belong_ to 'im, whether ya want to or not. 'Cause at the time he had ya noddin', everythin' just sounded... good. No fine print. It's ya whole _ass_ in bold. "
Alastor
“And who could pass up such a temptation.” It was damn foolish to trust anyone like that in Hell. But everyone had a bit of a damn fool somewhere deep inside of them, and the cleverest manipulators only needed to find the right angle from which to pry that fool into the light. “Do you have a written copy of your contract? Or was it all verbal?”
Angel
" Not me... " He picked himself up just enough to be eye - level with him. " Not... you, " he dared with an implicit confession before sitting back. " He has it. " Of _course_ he does. " I haven't even seen the damn thing in decades. "
Alastor
He didn’t react to the implicit accusation—but he didn’t deny it.
A sigh. “And I’m sure so much as *asking* to see it will raise suspicions. Not, of course, that you could ask even if you wanted to, if you can’t go back.” Damn. Alastor was sure the thing must have loopholes—*everything* had loopholes—but he wasn’t going to figure out what if he couldn’t see the thing. “What about your soul? Why *haven’t* you sold it? Does your contract stipulate anything about what happens if you do?”
Angel
" I... I don't... r'member... I don't think he thinks I got the guts. It was the one thin' he let me keep t' keep me thinkin' I stood a chance. I don't even fuckin'... know what HAPPENS or what it feels like t' not 'ave ya soul. He got me this twisted up wit'out it. Givin' it away would do me worse, wouldn' it? "
Alastor
"It would depend entirely on who you give it away *to!* And, say, whether they might let you buy it back. Mind, most 'sell your soul now, buy it back later' deals are designed to make getting out of debt practically impossible, *but.* Infernal law favors dealmakers who work in souls. In most cases, selling one's soul trumps any prior ownership claims over any other part of one's person. But you'd know better than I whether Valentino drafted your contract with a clause ensuring he'd maintain his holdings even if you sold your soul."
Every word of it was the truth—but consider the source when considering whether this was actually good advice.
Angel
He almost zoned out. It made much more intuitive sense to just KILL the bastard in place of reading between any lines. Which was what he was working UP TO before he blew it.
A grimace. " I doubt it, but then again, I don't know. Guess I'd... gotta get it from 'im if I really wanna fin' out. " He was nearly stark white. He had to keep going no matter how much harder he ended up making it on himself. Hiding would only be prolonging the inevitable. If he was going to end up going down, at the very least he had to take Valentino with him, or strongarm _some_ sort of upper hand... somehow.
Alastor
"Which brings us right back to the problem of your having to face him, doesn't it?" And even if he could get out of his contract that way, that wasn't going to do a thing to stop Valentino from coming after Angel if he was mad his prisoner was getting away. It addressed a long-term problem but not the immediate one.
Angel
He couldn't speak, only shudder. Angel had _nothing_ over Valentino. He was near certain he carried his contract on his person at all times. It was really seeming like there _was_ no way around it. Just a nod. A bitten lip and raking claws over his forearms.
" Can ya... hear what they're broadcastin' about? "
Alastor
Alastor hesitated, then shook his head. "Not without somebody opening a portal to Hell. I picked up a little trick recently that might be able to boost my power enough to listen across planes like that, but I'm reluctant to test it out in the middle of an extermination and risk broadcasting our location."
Angel
" ... Ok, wouldn' want that... " Angel replied meekly before staggering a shaky reach into the pool to pluck Pelagios from a pile of coral he was rearranging. " Later... could ya tell me? " He then sank his face into the seapup's head, clutching him dearly as he replied with vaguely confused burbles.
Alastor
"As soon as I can." He smiled wanly. "You're not the only one eager for news out of Hell."
He was cold again. He summoned up a big beach towel from indoors, and offered a second one to Angel.
Angel
" Thanks... " First things first, he could stand to feel more like himself. Angel let Pelagios down into his crossed legs and started drying his hair. So long as he was stuck, getting his mind off the situation was the best he could do, for now. Diligently he dried and out of his line of sight, Pelagios had escaped him to chew on a corner of Alastor's towel.
Alastor
He could restrain the urge to chatter for a moment. Let Angel have a second to recover.
He looked at the seapup gnawing on the towel Alastor had draped over his shoulders. And then, slowly, without looking away from seapup, Alastor stuck the opposite corner in his mouth and started chewing it.
Angel
" If I could get my hands on my contract, would ya help me figure out a way t' - " Angel slipped the towel off his head, hair a weird, frizzy mess and snorted at the sight. " Sorry, Schnookums! Took ya outta the water before you were ready, huh? " he said as he reached for Pelagios and attempted to gently ease the towel from his mouth.
To no avail. It seemed he made his choice. A tidepool rich with toys and potential snacks was second to gnawing on cotton and staring down the Radio Demon with the biggest, most impish smile he could muster.
Alastor
Ah, so it was to be a battle, was it? Alastor leaned away from Pelagios, tugging lightly on the towel as he did.
"If you get it, I can look it over." Somehow, chomping on a towel did nothing to hamper his ability to speak clearly. "I can't guarantee that I'll find a way to help—it depends on just how airtight Valentino's made his contract—but I know a thing or two about Infernal law and I have fiends in high places."
Angel
The little orange veci hopped forward, easily tugged but no less determined to win... whatever the object of this battle was to be. He was rested from his food coma and had a wake - up snack. All that was left was energy to burn. A nefarious glint in his eye, Pelagios dug in on all fours and started crab - walking to the side to tighten the towel around Alastor's neck. _Ruthless._
Angel clamped a claw to his mouth to stifle a laugh. " Thanks, I... I 'ave no idea how I'm gonna pull it off, but... " He thought a little bit as Pelagios playfully death - rolled like an alligator. " I'll get it, and uh - " A loud pulse echoed in his eardrums. He was running on sheer force of will at this point. " - worse comes to worse. Which AIN'T gonna happen. But if it DOES, er... "
Nifty and Husk didn't seem to have it all that bad. Of course, they were vastly different demons and if anyone knew how severely false pretenses could be it'd be him, but he still couldn't finish the sentence. Angel still wasn't sure if bartering his soul would be something worth resorting to.
" ... I double die. End of story. Fat Nuggets is gonna be goin' to Kyxs. "
Alastor
Alastor patiently allowed seapup to strangle him—goodness, what an inventive tike. He was going to be dangerous if he ever faced anybody who actually needed to breathe.
But his gaze remained on Angel, waiting for him to finish that sentence—*knowing* what it would be. They'd danced around the topic of strategic soul-selling already, after all.
When Angel chickened out before he could offer his soul up, Alastor was relieved. Alastor couldn't save face if he turned down the offer—but accepting it would be tantamount to directly challenging Valentino for ownership of Angel. Even if Alastor could legally finagle the transfer, there would be nothing stopping Valentino—and his allies—from going after Alastor.
There were friends he would risk his existence for. Angel *was* a friend, Alastor would concede that, but he wasn't yet on the VIP list. Alastor didn't want to have to tell him *no, I can't go that far for you.*
He placed his hand to his heart. "You have my solemn word that Fat Nuggets will not be made into bacon." His hand was immediately bound against his chest by the towel. "Oh, clever boy."
Angel
" Thanks. 'Cause if ya don't... " Angel, visage all but a void, crawled forward and gently swept Pelagios before he could make a full predatory circle around Alastor. It was clear enough to him that he didn't _mind_ being wrapped and was... perhaps a bit _entertained._ But he needed something to do with his hands. And he had to make some preparations. " ... It ain't like there'd be anythin' I COULD DO ABOUT IT. "
A knead - like rub between the fins of his head, and the Seapup started up a series of contented burbling followed by a slack jaw. " I gotta... go talk to 'em, " he said with a swipe of his things as he stood, " Ya... want any company, or should I take the lil' fella with me? " With a spare pair of arms, he dusted out Valentino's coat and wrapped the towel around his waist. " I could... leave ya with this, too... if ya liked wearin' it. It's pretty cold back 'ere and would be better to have that towel to sit on instead of the rocks, ah? "
Alastor
“Very true! The best guarantee you could get is sticking around to keep me on the straight and narrow! But that’s never entirely in our control, is it?” A wink. “Still! You should do the best you can.” The closest Alastor is going to get to saying *I’d like you not to get erased.*
“Take him, you’d get far more out of his company than I would. But I’d appreciate the coat! I was starting to get attached to it!” He stood as well, it didn’t seem appropriate to keep talking while seated. Especially since he had something a little more serious to share. “Before you go, I’ve got something else you might find useful.”
Angel
Angel rose a brow, not the least bit in the mood for some empty pep talk. Nonetheless, he gave a small smile and floated the coat over Alastor's shoulders. " Knock y'self out. Nevermindin' the extra arms, it suits ya better than me. _Nice 'n red -_ "
He cut his sing - song and canted his head. " Yeah? Ontop a some contract literacy? " His upper arms dropped to his hips as Pelagios cradled into his stomach. " What'cha got? "
Alastor
“They make for a lovely sash!” He tugged the coat back on and wrapped the extra arms around his waist again.
Once he tied them on, he turned his full attention on Angel. In what for him passed as a low voice, he said, “Now, I’m trusting you to keep this information to yourself. I’m not a dealer in contraband and I’m not looking for customers, I just happen to have a private collection. *But*, I happen to have in my possession two barrels’ worth of holy water—and I can increase that amount exponentially at a moment’s notice. If adding that to your arsenal would help you solve any of your problems... consider it at your disposal.”
Angel
He matched his drop in volume. " _Ya shittin' me._ " Though Angel knew he wasn't kidding in the slightest. Rejecting any semblence of good news was simply just a hard habit to break. " Angel weapons ain't exactly standard issue. How the _fuck_ did'ja get ya han's on _**holy** water?_ It really work like that? It really...? " A dark glint circled his eyes. " _Burn_ like acid? _Permanently?_ "
Alastor
"Would you believe *Valera?* They passed me a little kit of magical ingredients they happened to have been given but didn't have any use for. All the usual little herbs and spices, but *guess* what I found in the back and have been multiplying ever since!"
He leaned closer with a malicious grin. "I can't speak *directly* to its efficacy on sinners, because I morally object to experimenting with torture methods on humans test subjects—unless I happen to have someone on hand who deserves it, of course." Hand over heart. What a saint. "But every once in a while I'll scoop out a glass of the stuff and dunk a small demonic critter in to make sure it's still potent! And oh, yes, it burns like acid. It burns like napalm. Exactly as advertised. A little different for each creature, but never pretty."
Angel
Of _course_ he believed Valera. He believed Alastor, too. Who would've _thought_ that holy water was such a common commodity outside of Hell? ~~On second thought, that probably made a LOT of sense.~~
Angel bent an equal amount backwards. ( _The grin, the coat, the stature... a VAST difference compared to the image that flashed his mind and nearly sent him COWERING again, but nonetheless one he wasn't quite ready for._ ) A stiff exhale of his held breath and he quickly straightened up. ( _He could get used to this. He DESERVED to get used to this._ )
" Morally object t' torture experimen's on people? Never would've thought the big bad _Radio Demon_ cleaner than the _Outfit,_ " he teased with a matching lean forward, arms crossed and Pelagios thinking he's about to be handed off. _Look at those chubby little orange paws reaching for Alastor._ Angel's voice then dropped into a demonic growl. " So, ya think a couple gallons could fit a ten foot moth overlord's head? An' ya just gonna... give it t' me? "
Alastor
Oh, no getting in Angel's personal space today, all right. "The Outfit is evil for profit! I'm evil for fun! I think that puts me on slightly higher moral ground, don't you?" Studio laughter.
Baby reaching for him. Alastor automatically offered Pelagios a couple of claws to grasp on to. "Let's see, a couple of gallons is..." He conjured up two spectral red outlines of spooky floating milk jugs to hover next to Angel's head. "Should be plenty!" The milk jugs vanished. "Why shouldn't I? Once you know how to replicate it, the stuff's basically infinite!"
Angel
" _Touché ~ !_ No wonder I didn' fit in! " Pelagios let out a small SQUEAL of delight before grabbing both claws. Those four eyes sure are HUGE and soul - consumingly CUTE, but Angel playfully pouted at the comparison between his head, Valentino's, and milk jugs. " Buh - BUH! " He waved his arms through the projections and failed to stifle a snicker. " Not MY head! More like YOUR head! "
Angel then extended a hand to playfully ruffle Alastor's hair before drawing back. " Sorry, I mean, KIDDIN'! Thanks fa... the help... " he said sheepishly before drawing all four arms around Pelagios instead, just to find him very much attached. He gave him a little wiggle, but the seapup just took it as a means to wiggle Alastor's fingers. _So helpful._
Alastor
Seapup grabbed on. Alastor had a dull little burst of happiness that was quickly rolled over by a wave of old longing for a whole generation of young cousins who had once automatically latched onto Alastor’s fingers just like this and who by now were probably all dead of old age.
“It’s close enough! Most heads are about the same size!” And Angel’s was the only one available to hold phantom milk jugs next to.
Alastor automatically jerked his head back from the touch—before Angel aborted the effort himself. Alastor considered Angel’s withdrawn posture, and then the fact that they were probably going to be stuck with each other courtesy of Pelagios for at least a few moments longer; and then sighed melodramatically, tilted his head permissively, and said, “Oh, all right, go on. Just don’t spread the news or everyone will think they can get away with it.” He’d distract himself by wiggling his fingers right back, puppeting Pelagios’s arms in a little dance.
Angel
" N-no... I wouldn' wanna be doin' THAT to ya. I know how t' keep ya shit under wraps... " he said meekly before hesitantly reaching out. His hand didn't fall heavily, but light as a feather as he gingerly pushed his claws through the strands and reassured himself. _See?_ Sure was _Alastor's_ head, alright. Solid. With hair. Red hair with fading brown dye. A certain other Overlord - level demon wouldn't be caught dead with that level of inattention to his appearance. Antlers, not antennae. Ears. _Ya can stop bein' STUPID, now!_ With a ragged exhale, the last of his nerves ceased his shivering as he combed Alastor' s bangs back into place with the drop of his hand. A single, efficient movement.
Angel then stayed silent for a moment before being startled by Pelagios's jubilant squealing and animated dancing. " Ya _sure_ you don' wanna keep 'im fa a little bit? " he asked again with a gentle rub between the seapup's head fins. _Usually,_ that eased him up enough to release whatever death grip or lockjaw he had going on. " I'll come back an' get 'im from ya after I go talk to Kyxs, or ya can hand 'im off t' Valera if you see 'em. Whatever happens first. "
Alastor
His ears automatically flicked under Angel’s touch, but aside from that and his wiggling fingers he held perfectly still beneath the examination. There. Not so bad, was it? And maybe it would help Angel to relax a little.
“No no, that’s quite alright! I enjoy gently harassing small children, but I’m not terribly interested in babysitting one. You keep the kid and I’ll keep the coat.”
Angel
" Ok, say _bye - bye,_ Pelagios ~ " The seapup relaxed in Angel's hands and relented to being cupped over his shoulder with a turn towards the estate.
" _Blu - blu !!_ " he burbled with a double wave of his chubby citrine claws, lightly bouncing along with Angel's gait.
Alastor
"And a blu-blu to you, too!" He wiggled his fingers in a farewell wave at Pelagios.
Alastor made a mental note to make some discreet inquiries about how Valentino wrote up his contracts; and then he crouched down again to continue studying his tide pool.
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ubernoxa · 4 years
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The Dare: A Guns N’ Roses Fanficiton
Chapter 36: An Important Minor Detail
Masterlist
Pairing: Duff Mckagan/OC
Story Summary: A stupid harmless dare, that’s all it was supposed to be. It was supposed to be something they would do, and never revisit. For Delilah, little did she know that visiting the strip wasn’t going to be a one time thing when she made the choice to accept the dare. Life is full of choices. Some choices can mean absolutely nothing, while others can change your entire world. Delilah had heard many rumors about the Sunset Strip or Devil’s Strip. Teenagers would whisper stories about how the Devil walks the streets of the strips without a care in the world. It was known as a place untouched by God. After years of hearing rumors about the Devil’s Strip, Delilah wants to see it for herself. Thus a Dare was born.
Chapter Summary: One of the many downsides of going to a large people is that you might know the ones there. Even if you wished you didn’t know them
Taglist: @gingerspicetalks @str4nge-haze @dustnbones @queen-crue
The moment that Duff had finished his show, and he had his arm wrapped around Del’s waist. It might sound corny, but he could take his eyes off of her the entire show. Granted she looked amazing in skin tight pants paired with a shirt that he assumed she borrowed from one of her roommates, but it was her dancing or more of teasing she was doing while he performed.
“Nice headscarf,” Duff whispered in Del’s ear as they followed the rest of the band to the bar.
“Thanks, this Duff guy had it on the floor of his room, so I decided to do the poor thing justice and wear it,” Del giggled at her own comment, and Duff smiled at the giggling girl.She wore it just like he had countless times around her.
When Del first started drinking, he wondered what kind of drunk she would be. Would she be the type to become mute? Would she become a mean drunk? A sad drunk? Quickly to his relief, Del was a giggly drunk who was a heavy flirt. Granted the flirting she did wasn’t the stereotypical flirting seen on the strip because at the end of the day Del is still Del, but Duff liked her weird sense of flirting.
Del quickly positioned herself on Duff’s lap once they were in the overcrowded truck that she had grown rather familiar with. She smiled even wider at the familiar scent of beer mixed with cigarette smoke, it smiled like home.
After a quick stop at the hell house to unload their equipment they were once again on the road.
“Where to?” Izzy asked, causing a small bicker fest between axl and Steven. Del passed a small piece of paper and leaned forward to talk to Izzy who was in the driver’s seat.
“Mags said there would be a party at this address, something about a good way to meet new people and network. Good way to meet new fans,” Del sent Izzy and Axl a warm smile as she talked, trying to mimic what Mags had done countless times to get her way.
“I don’t know Del,” Izzy slowly spoke, eyeing up Axl. Truth be told, Izzy didn't care if they went to the party or not. He recognized the address, and knew it was on the nicer side of town. Nicer side of town meant nicer booze. As Izzy looked at Axl, he expected to see some sort of annoyance in his scowl. It was no secret that Axl hated Mags, it was even less of a secret that Axl had requested for Mags to be kept as far away from the band as possible. Confusion filled Izzy, as he stared at the smile that was planted on Axl’s lips. If any other girl had asked to go to the party, Axl would have immediately said no, but this was Del who was batting her eyelashes and wearing the sweetest little smile. This was Del who had Axl wrapped around her little finger without even knowing.
“You want to go there? Do you want to get drunk Delly?” The brunette nodded earning a small laugh from Axl. Izzy couldn't help but roll his eyes at Axl using the nickname Duff called Del.
“Well, that side of town has the best booze,” Axl shrugged before handing the address back to Izzy.
“How do you guys feel about going on the North side? Apparently, there will be live music and free booze,”’ The cheers that erupted in the car quickly answered Axl’s question, and Izzy headed for the party.
Once Izzy got the truck back on the road, Duff pulled Del back, so she was no longer leaning forward and talking to axl.
“What was that about?” Del giggled as Duff began to pepper kisses into the crook of her neck.
“Hmm, nothing much. I just missed you,” Del giggled at his comment, unknowing of the glare the Duff was sending Axl. For a couple of seconds, Axl stopped smirking at the bassist and turned his attention elsewhere before talking with Izzy about their next gig.
Immaculate. That was the only word that came to mind when they pulled up the address.
“Holy shit, who is this guy?” Steven asked, trying to take in the mansion.
Their rusted truck was horribly out of place as they pulled up to the gate which automatically opened. He couldn't take his eyes off of the large fountain that was in the center of the front lawn. A naken women who was carved out of some sort of stone was holding a water jug. The fountain water was pouring out of the jug and cascaded around the woman’s body. The fountain must have cost more money than he has ever made, or stolen, in his entire life.
“Hey, Steven, there are probably nonrock naked women at the party, but you’re welcome to creepily stare at the rock woman all night. Personally, I would prefer to look at your girlfriend nake than that statue, but to each’s own,” Slash joked, earning a small chuckle from the drummer.
Earlier that evening, Stef had skipped the gig and gone to the party. Of course she was helping by keeping Mags away from the band like they had asked her too, but Stef also wanted some time away from Steven. She wanted some time to think things out.
“Well I am going to go find my girl,”Steven said as he bolted to the backyard like a lost puppy looking for its mom. Del couldn't help, but giggle at the notion. It was sweet of him, and she hoped that Duff would do the same if they were ever seperated.
Del felt Duff heartbeat quicken as they walked into the mansion where the party was in full swing. The place was huge and packed to the brim. She felt like a sardine in one of the tins you would buy at the store.
“Del, have you ever had fireball?” Slash asked, as they all stayed together and headed towards what they only assumed to be the kitchen. Del held onto Duff’s vest the entire way there, too afraid that she would lose him. She would have grabbed his shirt; however, he hadn't worn one which she had absolutely to problem with.
“No, why is it called fireball? Is that the shot you light on fire before taking?” By now they had made their way to the kitchen where they could all once again hear each other.
“No, it's cinnamon flavored,” Axl replied looking through the bottles that were on display. Holy shit, he couldn't remember the last time he had seen this many bottles at a party. He hated to admit it, but Mags always had good connections. To say he was more than curious to see Del’s reaction to the cinnamon liquor was an understatement, no doubt it would be adorable. Before the gig began, him and Slash were talking about which liquors Del had had before. Upon spotting Duff’s favorite brand of vodka, he pulled it from the selection and handed it to the blonde who gratefully accepted it. Axl smiled as he finally found the cinnamon liquor and grabbed some plastic cups that were on the table.
He couldn’t help, but laugh at Del who was currently giving Duff shit for drinking straight from the bottle. Apparently it wasn’t ‘classy’. Axl just shook his head and passed the girl a cup filled with about a shot worth of fireball.
“To getting trashed the classy way,” Axl clinked his plastic cup with Del’s earning a small giggle from the girl because there was clearly nothing classier than doing shots out of a red solo cup.
Del was able to drink about a fourth of the shot before the burn was too much making her cough. Axl once again rolled his eyes as Duff leaped to her side and rubbed her back making sure to not forget to send him a quick glare. As if he was the one who burned her throat. Del began to push Duff off of her, feeling the embarrassment of everyone looking at her.
“I'm fine Duffles,” Del sent the blonde a quick peck on the lips, instantly calming him down.
“Enough of this, I am going to grab a beer. Duff, can you help me find Mags and Stef?” Del added placing the cup down and grabbing one of the cans of beer that were under the table. She wasn’t picky. She was looking for anything that wouldn’t burn her throat.
Axl then swung his arm around Slash’s shoulder and the pair went off to socialize.
It didn't take long for Duff and Del to find Stef who was currently sitting on Steven’s lap. Del smiled at the pair as she walked closer to them.
“Hey! I was wondering if I was going to see you!” Stef cheered, running up and practically tackling Del to the ground. Duff managed to keep Del steady, keeping her from falling on her ass.
“Popcorn, why the hell are you wet?,” Steven only laughed at Duff’s question and pointed at Stef who was grinning from ear to ear.
“Hey..have you seen Mags?” Del asked, trying to get back on topic. To say that Del was a little concerned with Mags being at this party alone while pregnant was an understatement.
“Last I saw her, she went to go upstairs and powder her nose or some shit like that. Probably just needed to breathe. Come join us! You two have perfect timing because we were just talking about the band. Steven was telling me that you watched from the audience. How crazy was it?” Stef asked motioning towards Del to join them. The partygoers they were talking to turned towards Del, curiosity spread across their faces.
“It was insane!” Del smiled and looked up at Duff remembering how amazing the show was, how amazing Duff was.
Duff had begun to walk forward, taking Del’s comment as a cue that they would not be joining them; however, she began to take a few steps back.
“ I want to make sure that Mags is doing ok. Plus she was the one who invited me, and I don't wanna be rude,” Duff guided Del through the crowd of people. Duff made sure his arm was tightly wrapped around her waist. He had no intention of losing her, not now not ever.
Del let breath escape her once they walked up the marble steps. When they reached the top, Del was able to take in the scenery for the first time. A large chandeleur hung high above them, giving the illusion that it was floating in the air. The glass shimmered and reflections of the coral marble could be seen if you looked close enough.
“It looks like it is floating,” Duff pointed out to Del as they stood at the top of the stairs.
She just nodded at his response.
“Would you like me to buy you one?”
Del sent him a confused look before speaking, “No, we can barely afford food.”
“I meant when Guns N’ Roses makes it big,” Del melted as he spoke. She felt his arms lightly wrap around her, pulling her close.
“I would love one when you make it big,” Duff smiled at his words. He was glad that she knew they were going to make it big too. Del stood on her tiptoes and Duff bent over in realization that she wanted to kiss his forehead.
She lightly tugged his hand and wandered around the second floor. It was in the fourth room that Del heard a quiet sob from behind the door. She shot a quick look at Duff who nodded in understanding, knowing that if that was Mags she most likely wouldn't want him seeing her in her current state.
It was a soft knock on the door that pulled Mags from her sobbing.
Fuck, someone found her.
She took a couple deep breaths before talking, “Sorry occupied.”
Mags was almost impressed on how quickly she could put a mask on and pretend everything is okay.
“Can I occupy it with you?”
Mags couldn't have gotten off of the ground faster to open the door to the familiar face.
“Thank god you’re here,” Mags pulled Del into a tight hug. To say this party had been complete shit was an understatement. Del just smiled and hugged her even tighter back.
“This bathroom is too big, like what do you do with all this space?” Del asked, trying to bring up anything beside the fact that Mags had been crying in the bathroom for the past hour.
Mags could put on her mask all she wanted, but Del could see through it. Del could see her pain.
“The marble is a little gaudy for my taste,” Del nodded in agreeance with Mags before joining her on the floor.
They sat in silence, Del waiting for Mags to bring up the real reason that she was alone crying in the bathroom.
“He used to sing to me every night. He said he wrote the song about me, I had fallen in love with falling asleep to his angelic voice,” Mags whispered, fighting back the tears that were fighting to escape.
Del remained silent as the pair sat on the bathroom floor far away from the world that was on the other side of the locked bathroom door. She didn’t truly know Drew. All she knew him as the bastard who broke Mags heart, and she hated every ounce of him for that.
“But now, now he sings to someone else.” Once the first tear escaped, there was no hope holding back the rest. The tears flowed down her face like a river escaping a dam. The moment Mags saw Drew with his girlfriend or wife or whoever the hell the woman he brought to the party was, she was done. She was tired of the cruel world and how it kept kicking her repeatedly even though she was never able to get up. Mags was tired of putting on a tough face. She was tired of pretending everything was fine when the world around her was shattering. She was tired of being Mags.
Del wrapped her arms around Mags, who quickly cried into her shoulder. Del thought she knew what pain was. When her fiance hit her, she thought she knew pain. While that hurt, this was a different type of pain. This was the pain of a young soon to be mother who was thrown to the curb by an adulterous man who could care less what happened to not only the woman he impregnated, but his child as well. He didn’t give a damn about his own flesh and blood.
“Do you wanna go home?” Del asked, earning a small head nod from Mags.
“Can you get me something to drink? He is down there flaunting some chick and I do not think I will be able to handle it sober,” Del nodded her head and placed a small kiss upon her cheek. From the corner of her eye, Mags saw Del talking to Duff probably instructing him to get her her drink. She was relieved to know that Del wasn't walking around alone. Mags didn't get a good look at them, but she swore that she saw Mark and Matt, her ex-fiance, downstairs.
It was only for a second, but Duff and Mags shared a quick moment of eye contact across the room. Mags sent him a small smile which she knew that Duff, just like Del, saw through. Luckily he seemed to not press further and followed Del out of the bathroom.
Time was always a funny thing. For some people a minute could flash before their face while for others that minute could feel like years. For Mags there was one month, one single night a little over a month ago that she kept playing in her head over and over again.
It was the night before Mags had met Del. The night Mags woke up naked in Duff’s room with no condom wrapper around. They were both trashed and it meant nothing. She not only hoped, but prayed that Duff wasn’t the father of her unborn child. She knew it was selfish because Duff would probably make an amazing father, but he was going to make an amazing father to Del’s children whenever they chose to have them. Mags sleeping with Duff was anything, but an important minor detail.
Duff didn’t like the idea of separating from Del, but she assured him that it would only be for a couple of minutes. Once again time was being a funny thing. When Duff returned back to the bathroom where Mags was, his heart stopped. Alone in the room was Mags who was freaking out that Del was alone downstairs. Duff tried reassuring Mags that Del would be okay, but when she told him who was also at the party he ran to go find Del.
Del had found her way to a back room downstairs where there was a closet filled with several pillows and blankets. Del smiled at her find, hoping that a beer and a quick nap would give Mags enough to recover and leave the party with her head held high.
“Long time no see,” Del’s heart stopped at the familiar voice. What was Matt doing in a place like this, and where there was Matt there was also Mark not too far behind.
“Yes, what a month or two? I am sorry, but I have to deliver these to someone so I cannot stay and chat,” Del said trying to stand her ground.
“I think it can wait, this is about Beth. You remember her don’t you? Or do I have to remind you who your best friend was,” Mark’s voice was spitting poison as he handed Del a letter. He couldn't forgive her for the pain she caused.
Del opened the letter, and it was a small invitation to celebrate Beth and Mark’s engagement.
“Congratulations, but I am busy that evening,” Del spat without even looking at the date.
“Oh, will you be posing for another magazine?” Del froze as her ex-fiance stood blocking her only exit out of the room.
“No! If you are referring to the magazine article, most of it wasn’t true. I do not know how they got the scandalous photo of Duff and I, but that wasn’t what the photo was supposed to be used for. It was supposed to be a private photo,” Del shot back.
“Ohh a private photo for Duff”
“Don’t say his name Matt,” Del barked back. She hoped that her shouting would make Matt back down, but her ex-fiance’s smirk only grew.
“Whoah whoah whoah, lets all just calm down. Matt go and stand outside, so I can finish talking to Del,” Matt was about to protest at his words, but one look from Mark and he left the room.
“Touch me and I will scream. I know people here who wouldn’t think twice about beating you up,” Del said once Matt left the room.
“Ohh let me guess you scream, and Duff will come running in here like a knight in shining armour?” Mark laughed at his own words.
“Yes, he loves me.”
“Delilah, stop being such a child. He doesn’t love you. He only wants you for your body, and once he gets bored with you, which he will, he will toss you aside and move onto the next girl” The way Mark said the words made her flinch.
No, she told herself. No, Mark was wrong.
“Beth and I are getting married and I want you to be at the celebration party. I do not care if you come or not for my sake, but I know Beth wants you there.”
“She called me dead,” Del shot back.
“Well Delilah, her best friend left without saying goodbye. If someone who I grew up with and imagined growing old together with just got up and left for some guy, I would be pretty mad too,” Mark shrugged off Delilah’s comment, not really caring if Beth hurt Delilah’s feelings.
“I left her a letter,” Delilah’s voice was barely louder than a mouse. Regret filled her bones as she thought about how badly she hurt Beth, but that wasn’t enough to make her want to go.
“It would be a shame if Duff found out you were cheating on him with that other guy in that article. Ohh what was his name Axl?” Mark didn’t want to take it this far by threatening her, but Delilah needed to come home.
“That is not true. I am faithful and you know that,” Delilah shot back.
“Well here is the thing Del, it is my word against yours. Who is Duff going to believe, you or me? Honestly..even the media thinks you are sleeping around. Plus, even if he does believe you, there will always be that seed of doubt that will eat him alive. He will spend nights getting so drunk that he lies awake trying to figure out if he was ever good enough for a whore like you,” Del interrupted him before he could continue.
“Shut the fuck up, you fucking piece of shit. I am finally happy. I wake up in the morning smiling. I love him. I want to spend the rest of my life with him. I want to have a family with him, and you aren’t going to fuck that up.”
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rkseungjoon · 5 years
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                   “   ♔  ┊   TRC PRIVATE AUDITION
                                                                now playing › SIGNAL (REMIXED) by TOOICE                                                                                      › 0:00-0:46 + 1:51-2:37
he took his picks very seriously. the first example: scheduling the audition to a day that wouldn’t conflict with his erratic sleep schedule. then, came phase two. hyunjoon was his knowledgable young neighbor. not only that, but he had just won the trc triple threat challenge, so he ought to be good at something. “which idols are famous right now?” seungjoon asks without actually thinking what a dangerous question that was. the boy went on about how much he adored luxe for a very long time but eventually offered him a few more suggestions. there weren’t many questions asked and the man was glad. he already felt terrible hiding this information from him, and if hyunjoon actually confronted him about it seungjoon would probably pass out right on the spot.
instead, he made his way back to his computer, trying to find out what would be the best choice for him. even for someone who wasn’t that knowledgable on idols, nothing was really a surprise. they played everywhere you went. and it wasn’t like seungjoon hated them; it was only a preference. and it still is. the man struggles to find something he’d actually feel comfortable standing in front of a jury and singing. his salvation comes a few pages deeper into youtube after the algorithms had finally completed doing their job to find his perfect match.
a remix was exactly what he needed. it kept the freshness of the song, and probably what would have been expected in an audition. yet it still has a breath of fresh air by changing things up a little. that was exactly his style, and if he had to be put to the test then at least seungjoon wanted to do it in a way he would have enjoyed watching, in case he was the jury.
the days leading up to it are the weirdest. he doesn’t have many left, admittedly, and it’s a bit troublesome for him to nail the entire song in one single go. the first time he listened to it was a week before, and now he not only had to know the lyrics but also had to perform it well.
he wishes nayeon was there. she’d know what to tell him, he’s sure of it. as much of a mess as they were, they always did a good job of complimenting each other. last time something like this happened (and it was something exactly like this), they went out together to make the girl feel better but, at the end of their karaoke experience, seungjoon was happy. some people imagined the audience naked, he had heard, but maybe if they were all nayeon things could be a little easier.
it takes him a few minutes while staring at a wall before noticing the girl beside him. she was filled with energy; with dreams. it should automatically make him feel bad. how many children were out there with actual dreams and yet the person they gave a card to was him? except, there is this energy inside of her that actually makes him smile. it feels like sitting beside hyunjoon except for a bit brighter if he dares to think it. the boy had managed to read his mind before and he wouldn’t dare to think he wouldn’t be able to it again, even if from afar. on second thought, the boy was probably right inside that very same building.
when they call his name he stands up. this was it! shit!
suddenly, he’s already standing in the middle of the room. he remembers making his way there, but while it happened it didn’t feel as quick. why did they all look like men? this isn’t how it was supposed to go. seungjoon tries to clean the sweat from his palms, anything to distract himself. one of them asks him something and the noise he thought was in the room completely vanishes. it was all in his head. “what?” he needs to ask, and the man repeats himself. “will you introduce yourself?”
seungjoon nods for a few moments. this is probably standard procedure to whoever knew how auditions worked. “my name is… lee seungjoon.” he swallows his own spit. now his mouth feels dry. this isn’t going to go along well with this performance. he was a nurse; he should take better care of himself.
he is a nurse.
“well, okay.” the man motions towards the staff member standing by the audio equipment what was probably the sign to start the song. he wants to tell that he isn’t ready, but he doesn’t. his eyes simply watch as he slowly presses play. the first few beats start playing and seungjoon comes to the realization that he isn’t holding a microphone. his eyes grow a bit wider. he stares at each member of the jury with his palms completely open but their signs of concern were probably towards his own condition and not about a missing microphone. so… he wasn’t supposed to have a microphone. good. this was good.
he was thankful for the long introduction at the start of the song. if his way inside the room had been quick, seungjoon was glad at least this took a bit longer. he clenches his jaw; squeezes his hands tightly into fists. this was it. all he had to do was to not completely suck.
눈짓도 손짓도 어떤 표정도 소용이 없네 하나도 안 통해 눈치도 코치도 전혀 없나 봐 더 이상 어떻게 내 맘을 표현해
for a song about being expressive seungjoon feared a bit for himself. while his jaw had relaxed, his hands still felt tense. he waited for the movie miracle to come. there was always this sudden flash of confidence that hit the lead character and gave them the singing abilities they never knew they had. now he knows movies are all fake. as a lover of romantic comedies, he feels a bit betrayed.
without the actual strength to fight his own body, seungjoon slowly sways his fists to try and pass the idea that he had actually planned this from the start. at least his voice is stable, he thinks. at the very least it was stable enough. as long as he remembers all the lyrics he’d feel good about himself. he isn’t there to actually get signed as a trainee, right? this is only to prove something to himself. that was solely it, and all he had to do was not mess up.
the fact the words felt so silly is probably that kick on the back that he needed. singing ‘jjirit jjirit’ feels ten times better than it probably would attempt an extremely emotional ballad. during his time, seungjoon always identified himself as more of the jjirit side; the type to enjoy the music video with superpowers and aliens. it’s what he’s trying to keep in mind now. while singing, he wants to imagine the colorful world tooice lives in with all their happy superpowers and failed confession attempts. it didn’t feel that far from home.
Trying to let you know Sign을 보내 signal 보내 I must let you know Sign을 보내 signal 보내
he had forgotten the fact the song was actually about less than a minute and a half long. not knowing the entire song probably came to his advantage for once. the silence returns now and he stares at the people in front of him, yet a little less scared. they’re expecting something from him and this time he manages to think things through. “thank you.” seungjoon bows once toward the jury, and then again towards the staff member dealing with the audio. when he reaches for the doorknob his hand grabs it without much trouble.
the man opens the door slowly; with a smile. he hadn’t noticed it happen while he sang. the entire time, he wondered why movies would lie to him so badly. his shoulders felt like they had just carried the weight of the sky for about less than a minute and a half. except, when he reached for that doorknob, his hands grabbed onto it. sometime during the song, they weren’t fists anymore.
the outside is much noisier than inside. seungjoon stands for a minute right by the doors of the trc building before finally starting to walk away. he wished there was someone to tell.
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rosedalemike · 6 years
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The Mood: Blog #5 "Perception/Loneliness”
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written Sunday April 8th at 5:36 am     Ever wonder what others think about you? Not that you should care what others think about you, but do you ever sometimes just wonder if maybe you were a dick/bitch to that someone when you didn't mean to be- and then on the other hand- way too nice/generous to someone who probably just talks shit about you? It happens to me a lot. It's probably one of the biggest reasons I'm traveling around by myself.
     Not that anything specifically like that came up this week. I've just been thinking about it more as I've finally been poking my head out of my basement to get back out to play shows. Just kinda like 'what does this person actually think of me? Did they actually just enjoy this show? Would they actually listen to my music regularly?' Not that they need to respect me or anything for me to like them. And, needless to say, I'm extremely grateful they came out to support anyway. It just sometimes makes me ponder things like: who is my actual demographic? What makes our distracted generation listen to an artist regularly? How/why can I make a stranger who has no idea what I do be completely invested in my art yet people who have seen me grow this garden for years suddenly have zero interest in Rosedale?
      Maybe some of those answers are relatable to reasons why I enjoy being alone. I know that probably sounds really sad to most people but hear me out...     
     Intro to sidetrack: I got into this topic with a long time fan at tonight's show. She was thanking me for being so nice and always inviting her out to shows. I had to tell her 'if only you knew how many people block me for that same gesture' (see blog #4). She was genuinely pumping my tires pretty good. Don't get it twisted- her boyfriend was right there the whole time and he was also cool A-F, as the kids say...
      She went on to say how she used to hang out with Hedley years ago whenever they were in town and they were rude dicks. She couldn't fathom their conversations. As easy as it might have been for me to jump on the freshly-greased "Hate-Hedley" bandwagon (kinda punny if you watch Trailer Park Boys) It got me thinking that maybe, as humans, when we're in our packs we often come across as unwelcoming. Especially bands! The inside jokes, the anything-goes-ness, the gear-geak battles/bro-downs. Looking back, I'm sure Rosedale sure fit that shoe for years! And I'd imagine macho sports teams come off as even more unwelcoming to strangers. (there I go- generalizing again...)
     But it's all perception- How do we perceive their inside jokes and harmless offside humour? Maybe Hedley were total dicks a few years ago, maybe they're not anymore. All I know is nothing really surprises me and I think even some of my favourite people get offended out of perceived context- not easily, per say- just out of common, outside perception. I'm sure I could go even more south and throw in some President Trump examples here but that dude gets enough external spotlight. And to clarify (before I get me a page-full of political/social facts that I have 0 any interest in); I'm neither a Trump or a Hedley fan...or Nickleback, for that matter...but I'm also not a total hater. I'm just saying they're prime examples of how perception and context have some serious horsepower especially in our ever changing world of social media/open-broadcasting.     
     Here's a wider, more harmless example of the two sides of perception that's a little closer to home; my set at Hard Luck in Toronto last Saturday. There was a high energy and big crowd in the room right as I was setting up. I played an ok set, nothing remarkable in my mind. But a very rare thing was happening; Humans were turning into Rosedaliens right before my eyes! They were feeding off of my music in ways only artists on the radio can relate to! They were eating up the positive message and yelling positive messages right back! The vibe was bliss! Nobody cared what anyone in the room might think of them. The phones were only out for "Eldorado's Climax" or to record/snapchat/livestream! After the set people were buying all the merch! I must have taken 15 photos with fans and strangers! Signed a few posters and CDs! Young, hip humans were telling me their stories! My tires were pumped way past any psi they've ever seen! Etcetera!!!
     Then I played London Ontario at the legendary Call the Office on the same night of the week, same time... (The only difference with this given Saturday was that there was no Easter/Passover excuses in my inbox.) But there were a total of maybe 15 people there. They were standing 30 feet away of the stage. I played/sang/delivered by far the best Rosedale set so far this tour with a proud smile on my face and, although the other bands and their friends kinda danced and inched closer towards the stage, not a single CD or shirt left the merch bins. Nobody asked to take their photo with me. Come to think of it, I was even getting the whole "This-dude-needs-a-band" vibe.
      So why did the mediocre Toronto performance get a way better response than the solid London set? Or even the relatively strong Brampton set that we filmed. It seems like it had nothing at all to do with me. It was entirely based on the crowd's perception! My good friend, Jonny (who is pretty knowledgeable with live music/performance/production), came out to both the Toronto show and the Brampton show. Even his perception was completely altered by these energized, Toronto meat baffles! Jonny thought the Toronto set was better. “You’re ready! Epic, prolific,” were his and his Toronto company’s words. He wished I'd filmed the Toronto show instead of Brampton. Kind of off topic (but, really, why I used the term "meat baffles"); Jonny also said the sound was bad in Brampton (and so did his Brampton company) and much better in Toronto. Where-as Bryan and Danny...and my mom... said that Brampton was the better sounding Rosedale show (and they were all also at the Toronto show!)
      So just because I had a generous, high energy crowd in front of the stage in Toronto, I was worth something to everyone in the room. I even sounded better, in Jonny’s opinion. People wanted pictures, autographs, and merch because their perception of Rosedale was a promising one. Yet, I could play the same exact set on the same night, same time, in a more intimate setting with a more solid performance and have my picture, signature, and merch less desired than just a couple more drinks. The other two bands played amazing sets as well. I was actually, genuinely blown away, like, fanboying on Adelaide’s guitarist, getting chills from Mermaids Exist’s harmonies etc. But they too set up their merch table for nothing. It is a very common display of how people's perception is strongly influenced by the context of their surroundings.
      The only person, arguably, in the room who felt...in the presence of greats- was myself! I know I played a legendary set and I'm 100% certain that if Adelaide and Mermaids Exist keep slugging away like that- they're gonna come built-in to everyone's iPhone 12s!
     This “perception-check” is nothing new to booking agents. They no longer accept buy-ons. (Of course I've tried!) Money can't buy you happiness, or a loyal following. Agents, labels, and managers want their bands playing to full rooms only. Intimate shows (as in half empty capacity shows...yes, I took the pessimist approach) are only creating negative perceptions. If, by some stroke of Modesty-Miracles, some of these rock star agents did stumble into reading this, they were thinking "No shit, Shirlock. Stop playing small shows" 5 paragraphs ago. I'm just letting everyone else know; the artist is about 10% responsible for impressing/entertaining the audience. The other 90% is the context of that room and a good chunk of that context is just simply the amount of people there. (other smaller pieces of the pie; venue decor/layout, sound engineering, staff, house music ...to name a few.) Maybe all of this is very obvious to most people already. I just wish solving all the pieces of that pie were easy or at least in my hands. But the modern ratio still just seems crazy to me, growing up in the punk/emo scene.    
      I think maybe another reason it seems crazy to me ties back to the fact that I'm alone a lot. When I'm alone I have more of an open mind and agenda. I think this could be the case for most people. There was one guy at the near-empty London show who was jumping up and down during my set. He was alone and so stoked. He didn't care what anyone thought- a proud new fan! I threw a pick perfectly into his hands at the end of my near-perfect set (#pingofftheforehead, Toronto show inside joke). He's been messaging my instagram all day. He didn't buy merch (he might have if there was a big generous crowd there, though) but he signed up and watched all of my youtube videos today.
      I think most people actually have a better time traveling/exploring/wondering out by themselves than they realize. I believe you're more accepting of different environments and cultural differences when you're by yourself. You're taking it all in and enjoying it. You're making new friends out of strangers who have no knowledge of your history as you have no knowledge of theirs. You feel like you can open new chapters of your own book and appreciate the fresh pages they're showing you, and consider the context. You might be thinking "so-&-so would love this" but chances are, if "so-&-so" were there, you'd likely be missing this too while off hanging at the bar or whatever.
      When you have your crew/family/entourage beside you for every door you open, life can start to pass you by. You might be having a great time with them and jel with them like peas and carrots, but the element of wonder and discovery isn't quite the same. It's sometimes like an invisible stress and I'd even go as far as to say that it is the main reason why bands break up on their first tour. Bands aside though, I've heard first-hand stories of good friends traveling together that went through episodes where they were so pissed off with each other that they wouldn't even talk to one another for hours. Sure, it could be the simple fact that you're now living with this friend/band hour-by-hour on this trip (Egos clash, ideas vary, mistakes affect everyone, true colours flourish etc.) and you're stuck with them for the next however-many-days. But I'm certain that a group-of-friends/family/band living together in their hometown would go over way better than living together in a new city every night. And traveling with a significant other- well that's an entirely different blog for a different day.
      I'm not sure if any of this is proven or factual. This is just me rambling at 5:30 am after a show. Another thing I hear a lot is "Mike, you just haven't found the right “one”/bandmates/friends". Fair enough. But maybe I'm just your classic degenerate- I could just be a weird lonely dinosaur that likes to roam alone. #lonewolf. But I think all of that coincides with the original point I made about being a dick to someone you actually really like/love. We've all done it, I'm sure. The nicest human in the world can be passive/harsh without realizing it. But as much as I think butting heads is inevitable when you're living together in uncharted land, there are friends that manage to really understand me and at least aim to dodge my weird pet-peeves (ie. guitar cases on stage). Of course, they can't drop their established lives/commitments to come travel around with me for months. So maybe there are layers to my solo-ness. (...loneliness sounded too sad.) 
LYRIC PARTY: 
Chasing the sun isn't my kind of fun I'd rather sit and catch snowflakes on my tongue When summers gone I won't be sad As you cling on to all the good times that you've had 'cause being alone isn't really all that bad - The Ataris "If You Really Want To Hear About It"
     But really, even when there's no stranger's pages or culture shock to take in, I have some great times by myself that I wouldn't be able to have with most company around. I wouldn't be able to write this blog in my bed at 5:30am. I wouldn't be able to listen to my new demos and imagine them mixed like my latest releases with my Westones on my 2 hour drive home from London. That, in itself, could easily be considered insanely narcissistic. And so could this; I love hanging out with myself! We get along very well. My tastebuds can be pretty inconsiderate to my gut's needs, and my lower brain is not too happy with the way upper brain has been handling brief encounters with the opposite sex, but alas, we're working on it!
      Another thing I like about being alone is that I'm pretty sure people like me more. Whenever I have friends around, it's almost like nobody wants to help with anything. And when I'm "working" away on something, a stranger might say something like "where's your friends? Why don't they help you with that?" As if to say "you need better friends, dude." It's really odd but it happens a lot and those little events tend to commit-to-memory for whatever reason. Kinda like that long-red-light that never fails to time out your drive perfectly. (One of the few books I've actually finished reading, "Stumbling On Happiness" (Daniel Gilbert), describes this human condition a bunch... took me three years to finish that damn book.) 
LYRIC PARTY: "Hangman, it's not your fault Commit this to memory The bright ideas are wasted and lost along the way" - Motion City Soundtrack "Hangman" (I could've sworn {or swore??} he said "For bright ideas always get lost along the way" then I looked it up... didn't look up sworn/swore though.)      Anyway, I guess this late night, scatter brained blog wants you to consider the context and surroundings when formulating an opinion/perception. And look at loneliness in a bright light. There are many positives. Don't ignore all your friends and family by any means, I'm just saying; A lot of people fear loneliness like they're gonna die alone and they need company at all times. "Alone time" is your most productive time. And productivity, as vague a term, is probably the healthiest form of instant gratification. So do something productive towards your goals the next time you're alone. And while you're at it, open up a new chapter to that old friend you later get to hang out with...
     Yeah, this one was all over the place. Thanks for reading though. If you made it this far, you're a trooper and I love you. 
Shows this week: Wednesday, April 11th - Ottawa, ON @ Mavericks -  10:00 set time, 19+, $8 cover https://www.facebook.com/events/321180534953651/ Thursday, April 12th - Kingston, ON @ Bar 56 - 9:30ish set time, 19+ish, $10 cover https://www.facebook.com/events/368799986934799/     Friday, April 13th - Potsdam, NY @ Hurly's/SUNY Potsdam -  7:30 doors/ 9ish set time - All Ages , FREE https://www.facebook.com/events/363889120774025/ Saturday, April 14th - Rochester, NY @ Firehouse - 8:00 doors/10ish set time - 21 +, $5 cover https://www.facebook.com/events/568521663507443 Sunday, April 15th - Pittsburgh, PA @ The Smiling Moose - 7:00 doors/ 9:00 set time, 21+, $8 tickets**/ $10 doors https://www.facebook.com/events/402443740204364/ Monday, April 16th - Cleveland, OH @ Grog Shop - 6:30 doors, 8:30 set time, ALL AGES, $8 tickets/$10 doors https://www.facebook.com/events/163297504327206/
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paniccord-ff · 7 years
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I am actually showing more and more now, I see it becoming an issue with clothes so I don’t understand how I am going to do this Burberry fashion show. How am I even going to hide this “honestly EJ do not lie to me, does this look too tight? Everything is slowly becoming tight and my arms, they are not fat are they?” god, my arms look fat “you look fantastic, you are glowing. You look so refreshed being away in Europe” pulling a face at EJ “refreshed?” does he not know how much shit I have been thinking about, I have been stressing “actually it might be all the sex, but anyways. Thank you so much for this dress, you came through at such short notice. Does Chris like the suit? Did you see him” EJ nodded pouting “he looks so sad, maybe it’s the nerves but he is so quiet, but he has his shirt on but not his tie. I hope it goes great for you both, call me after. To be honest I don’t know why I say call me because the blogs will be on it, just be strong” EJ hugged me “you know if he loses this Nia will get it all and his money” EJ moved back from the hug “she wanted that initially, she said all the things in the world but his mom made sure Royalty knew her dad. I just think this blessing he needed and after seeing the picture we will get her in safe hands, I am so worried because you know how court is, they are never on the father’s side” Now EJ got me worried, I just hope everything goes fine.
Grabbing Chris’ suit jacket and making my way down the hallway, it’s been so long since Royalty has been in her bedroom, I keep cleaning the room but I miss her little face smiling at me and waking me up and asking to dress me, she is so adorable. Walking down the steps “morning boys” seeing Joe and Parker “hey Rylee, Carlos bailed out on me today. Well he was hungover” Joe said, shaking my head “least we have the main man himself and that is you” Joe smiled “where is he?” Chris is not here “outside” parker pointed outside the door, nodding my head. If he is smoking a blunt I will be so annoyed with him, placing his jacket on the side and making my way outside. I feel this dress is so tight, I don’t know “your ass is shaking sis!” EJ spat, giggling looking behind me “stop looking” I pointed, stepping outside and seeing Chris watching his dogs, of course he is.
Heels and grass don’t mix, he got me walking over to him “baby” touching his back, making my way around him, he blew out the smoke from his lips. Seeing it is just a cigarette “I think my dog is pregnant” he pointed at his bulldog, rolling my eyes “who would get such a thing pregnant, anyways forget the dog’s” he looks so handsome, his tie just hanging from around his neck “how are you feeling?” grabbing both ends of the tie “nervous, I hate going to court. They be bringing all my shit up, if she has Royalty there and I can’t even go near here. She won’t let me, just so much shit is going around my mind” slowly crossing the tie over the bigger side over the smaller side and pulling it around, looking up at his face “it’s going to be ok, I will be sat there supporting you Chris. I promise you this will go good” pulling the tail through the top so that it's on the outside “how do you know? What if Roro don’t want me, I am not that bitch” he is speaking stupid “you telling me Royalty doesn’t want her silly butt? Your heart is so big Chris, she knows how much you love her. We can protect her, remember what you saw and you want that for her?” straightening his tie “now you fight for your daughter, I am going to be there for you. You can do this, don’t let anyone throw you off either like your mom, forget anyone because this is about Royalty” I hate when Chris exposes his sensitive side, he is doing it now.
Walking behind Chris into Mark’s office “it’s good to see you Chris and Rylee, the baby is ready to come out now?” squinting my eyes at Mark “very funny, you trying to call me fat?” I retorted, Mark put his hands in the air “never, I wouldn’t do such a thing but you look very beautiful Rylee. It suits you being pregnant” sitting down in the chair, I am not sure if that is a compliment or not “thank you Mark” looking over at Chris, he remained stood up rubbing the side of his face “we don’t have much time, so what do we have?” I know Chris is not about to talk so I will do it for him, he is very scared about today “pictures, and a video if you need it” digging into my bag “and these pictures show you Nia, Royalty and what else?” Mark said, holding the pictures out to him “you can clearly see Royalty sat next to her mom while there is about five guys smoking blunts, you can see the weed on the table. There is also booze, in the video you can see one of the guys holding some white stuff but you telling me this is safe? She is with a drug dealer which is wanted in Houston, he is in the last picture” Mark’ eyebrows rose “wow, this is enough to get sole custody and to get Royalty into care, that is something I don’t want. They will put her into care straight away, Chris will won’t get her straight away” Mark sighed out turning around, well I don’t want that either.
Mark placed the pictures in an envelope “ok, so what we are going to do. We will let them play first, as far as we are aware Nia wants nothing to do with you and you having any contact because of the money issue. She is there for that but I have obviously said no, we want Royalty to be in contact with you for longer than just a weekend. Which fell into when you said to me you want sole custody which is hard to get and not easy but you have these pictures, which is playing dirty. I think we are going to play it this way, we will let them play it first to see what happens. Chris you will get questioned sorry to say because sole custody is a bigger thing. I am only doing it this way because they can take Royalty away on the day into care, but let’s see” touching Chris’ hand “what will they ask me?” Chris asked “the usual, your track record, what makes you capable of looking after a child of that age. Bipolar is an issue, money not so because obviously Nia can’t afford her that is why she is crying about Money. But what can the judge really say, you are going to have a second child, you are engaged and have a fiancé that is wanting to look after her. Just be strong” he can do this, I have a feeling that playing dirty will work.
I hope Royalty is not here, it will upset him but Nia is a bitch so there is that “I love you so much” I said looking at the side of Chris’ face “I love you too, thank you for supporting me. I be ready to give up and you be holding me back up” smiling at him “it’s called supporting your man, that is what I am doing. I want to see you happy, I won’t forget Christmas and the hurt you felt” Chris shook his head “fucks me up that, your dad text me saying good luck and also my dad did. Shit is nice to hear” I cooed out “your dad text you too, aww bless. See everyone wants to see you win, besides the fucking blogs” it seems so busy outside the court “shit is annoying” the car came to a halt outside the court “stay in the car” Joe said getting out of the front as Parker was already stood at the side of the door “peanut is going to court for his sister and he don’t even know it” chuckling at Chris “only you would think of such a thing but yes she is” the car door opened, Mark got out first and then Chris slid over the seat to climb out. I wish I sat on the side Mark sat on, now I have to climb over seats with my fat self. Chris buttoned up his suit jacket and then held his hand out for me to take, the police officers stood to escort us.
A knock on the door “it’s just me boss, Tootie is here” furrowing my eyebrows “really?” Chris said in shock, Joe opened the door wider “hey” Tootie waved walking in “erm, I am not here to start anything. I just want to be here to support you Chris” Joe closed the door to the room “is mom here?” Chris questioned “I don’t know, I have not spoken to her. We aren’t speaking because I agree with you, I think it is wrong that you don’t get the chance to be a father. I never really get involved but I just want to sit and just support you, Nia is discrediting my brother that has changed his life” maybe she doesn’t have an agenda “mom is coming with Nia ain’t she?” Tootie didn’t say a word but stare at Chris “don’t say it” Chris shook his head “she is looking after Royalty in a room, so you won’t see her or maybe you will but I don’t know. I don’t agree with this and I don’t like how it has turned out Chris, I am so upset” Chris cleared throat “it’s cool, thank you. Is Desean cool?” Tootie smiled at Chris “he is being a pain but fine, uncle Chris has a new car he keeps saying” Chris smiled “you never bring him” Tootie walked over to Chris “I just want to hug you” she said hugging him.
Chris looks so nervous “we should go in now Chris, everyone is waiting” Mark said looking at the time, smiling at Chris a little “it’s going to be ok, go on” gesturing him to go out first “I got stopped outside!” hearing Blake say “them niggas wasn’t let me come in and then I saw Parker, I come to support my brother” Blake didn’t say he was coming, this is so nice to see him though “you good little sis, Nathan is here too” Blake hugged me, seeing Nathan behind Blake “oh look at my brother’s so nice to see you both, this is Chris’ sister” I thought I will point her out “cool” Blake and Nathan shook her hand “come on now!” Mark spat, Chris gripped my hand yanking me out of the room. I wasn’t about to leave because I was busy talking, I hope to god Royalty is not there. Moving my hand away, Mark held the door open for Chris to go in first. Chris walked in “Rylee” Mark said walking behind him and then so did I.
Seeing a few of Nia’ family I am guessing sat down, they glared at us because we took our time walking in as we would. Catching Nia looking at me, mean mugging her and then looking away sitting in the audience stand just behind Chris and his lawyer. Tootie sat next to me, seeing Blake and Nathan joining us. Placing my bag at the side of me on the floor as I sat down “he looks so nervous” Tootie said “he is very nervous” Chris looked behind him seeing me, he started saying something to Mark and then walked back out towards us “Rylee” Chris waved me over, picking my bag getting up. Shuffling pass everyone “what’s wrong?” I said, it is so quiet in here, Chris held my hand “I just wanted to touch you” he said in my ear “my mom is sat next to Nia’ mom, the woman with shades and pink lipstick” looking at the front row and clocking Joyce, she is so stupid because she has lost Chris totally now “I see” I said, Chris wrapped his arms around me “you will be fine, put your head up and do this. I am here. I love you” I said in a whisper, moving back from the hug Chris kissed my lips. He can do this, I believe in him. Sitting back next to Tootie “you look so good pregnant, you lucky. I was pregnant and thighs were huge. I am jealous” Tootie complimented, smiling at her “don’t jinx me, soon that could be me but thank you so much” she waved me off “we shall see, Chris is really blessed, I am glad you are around for him” that is sweet of her.
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I am so hot, I think it is because I am stressed and thinking the worst. I don’t get why my mom hates me, did I really treat her that badly. Swallowing hard, I wonder what Royalty is doing or even thinking. I hope she forgives me for doing this but I am doing this for her own good, I will love her and give her the world and I know Rylee will but if I am taking her away from her mom, she might hate me for that, I am just worried but I am not a bad guy “All rise. The Court is now in session, the Honourable Judge presiding Ruth Clarence” standing up for the judge, this is why I won’t win this because it’s a woman. Females don’t like me at all, this is useless “your Honour, today's case is Nia Guzman v Christopher Brown” the guy announced “you can now be seated” sitting down “this is the case for Royalty Brown” I would never have named my child Royalty but Nia saw money.
Mark is being too quiet, as my lawyer he ain’t doing shit and I look like the worst nigga on earth. Mark got up from his seat “my client is wanting sole custody of Royalty.” “he is not even mentally stable” the judge hit the gavel as Nia got all angry screaming “order in the court, can you please sit down” the judge said “Miss Guzman you disobeyed a contract in regards to visitation, my client paid to see his daughter not for your plastic surgery” Mark said sitting back down “objection, he is making false allegation’s on my client. She used that money on Royalty” the judge bowed her head for him to sit down, this is not going good “what if we try joint custody again?” shaking my head looking at Mark “your honour I didn’t get a chance to be a father to my daughter because the joint custody was with my mom and not me” Mark yanked me back down, I speak when I shouldn’t “because you can’t even look after her!” she hit the gavel again to shut Nia up.
Shaking my head, I am getting so annoyed. I am about to lose this case “Mr Brown failing to pay for your child can be very bad for you, you need to be paying” looking at Mark “show them the pictures now, do it!” I said through gritted teeth, this is about to be something he didn’t want to do but he has no choice. Mark cleared his voice standing up “your honour, I do have evidence that Nia is not a fit mother to look after a two-year-old, may I bring this over?” he held the envelope up “objection, we are not aware of any of this” the judge waved Mark over “you may come over” Nia’ lawyer got up rushing over, looking over at Nia smiling at her. She looks so shook, she is about to get it now. They may take Royalty away from her but I will get my daughter back “can you please go back” the judge does not seem happy, Mark looked at me nodding his head.
Mark sat down next to me “judge doesn’t usually take new evidence but she was keen to take this” Mark whispered to me as the room became loud, everything is just going sideways now “court adjourned!” the judge hit the gavel getting up walking off with the envelope, the fuck is happening now “no!” hearing Nia shout “no! How could you!” Nia shouted, getting up from my seat “we need to go into the room until they let us know, do not speak or even look at her” Nia walked around the table storming towards me “ma’am” a police officer grabbed her arm “you fucking bastard! No!” Mark pulled my arm to walk away, Joe rushed over to walk me “Rylee?” I said “Parker will get her, it’s good. Let’s go” Joe placed his hand on my back “what have you done!?” some guy said but Joe pushed him, I don’t know who that is but the police are no use.
I feel like shit, I feel like I shouldn’t have done that but she was going to take Royalty away from me and she had them men near Roro, it is so wrong. I never smoke with Royalty close “Mark has been gone for a while now” Tootie said “I feel bad” I blurted out “don’t, why should you? Your daughter needs people that love her for her and not for the money, my heart hurts to know this. We are nearly there” Rylee said, nodding my head. The door opened and Mark finally came back “ok, so this is what is going to happen. The judge has given this to child protective services and as we speak they are going to take Royalty, they feel her welfare is in danger. I said in regards to you, she said this now passed onto them. We may be able to get there and say you can look after her today, we just need to let it happen first. The protective services are seeking a court order right now which the judge is giving” my heart is aching, my poor daughter “we then go to court tomorrow, get you sole custody” rubbing my chin, I do not want to be there when that happens “is my daughter here?” I asked Mark “she is, we need to leave now” I think it’s for the best that I do go.
Joe looked behind him looking at me “your mom is walking over” shaking my head “keep her away from me, just get us out” holding onto Rylee’ hand “how can you do that to Nia? Chris seriously, a girl needs her mother. She is about to lose her daughter” my mom came to the side of me “don’t speak to me” looking away from her “you are an evil person” I stopped in my tracks “me!?” I spat letting Rylee’ hand go “I am evil!? Are you fucking twisted in your mind, you stupid woman. Royalty is with other men! Some sick fuck could harm her, grown men that are drinking and drugs. You are so far up her Puerto Rican ass you can’t see shit, I honestly hate you” Rylee grabbed my arm “you have lost a son, also Royalty. Don’t ever call me to see her” mean mugging my mom “Chris, stop it. Ignore her” I am so heated and hurt “but this is low” why is she speaking still “low!? Oh my god, shut up” Rylee placed her hand over my mouth “stop!” looking at Rylee “now walk” shaking my head at my mom “you wait till you see the pictures and video, watch!” walking off with Rylee “listen to your fiancé now” my mom said “you damn right Joyce” Rylee retorted, Rylee is the only person that I will ever listen too and do anything for “we moving to New York” I said, I need to move and get out of LA after this.
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