#bottle blond bass player.. save me...

[hiphopcherrrypop]

save me bottle blond bass player

[tartxglia]

Body Shots // Lee Felix

Pairing: Felix x Reader Genre: Smut Requested: Kind of? Words: 3.2k+ Warnings: Body shots but not full smut

The wooden front door does a surprisingly good job of muffling the sounds of the party going on inside the dorm. You can hear the upbeat melody of the beginnings of I Like It all the way from the lift down the hallway, feel the faint bass of it vibrating the floor as you step in front of the door. You don't bother ringing the doorbell, much less even knocking, and just move to open the door.

Immediately you're hit with Cardi B's fourth verse in the song, you know for sure because she raps 'They call me Cardi Bardi, banging body'. The song is much louder now that it's no longer muffled, and the bass travels throughout your whole body, especially your chest. The Stray Kids dorm is dimly lit, the projector otherwise used to watch movies now projecting light onto a disco ball for party vibes. The boys were celebrating the end of their first world tour, and they chose to invite a few close friends and host a small party in their dorm.

Off in the living room, you see a small crowd, and you can only assume it forms around Hyunjin who might be performing his choreography for this song. Just as you're closing the door and taking your shoes off, you're greeted by Jeongin who walks out the kitchen with a drink in his hand.

"Noona!" His smile makes you soft inside and you find yourself automatically smiling back.

"Jeongin, you get cuter every day." You ruffle his hair in affection before engulfing him into a tight hug. When you withdraw, you eye the cup in his hand.

"That's not alcohol, I hope," you tease the cute boy. His eyes widen and he stutters, looking like he just got caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "I'm kidding, you can do whatever you want Jeongin-ie."

He breathes a mock sigh of relief before regaining his smile, then he's pulling you towards the living room. "We were wondering where you were, Hyunjin hasn't stopped whining." You chuckle at his commentary, having no doubts that your best friend and fellow SOPA classmate–now graduate–would behave like that.

"Oh and," he leans a bit closer now as if preparing to tell you a secret, "Felix was secretly hoping around about it too." This time he chuckles as he sees the red flush of your cheeks even in the dim lighting. There was always something going on between you and Felix, it had just never...been touched on. Or even brought to light for that matter.

Now that you were lead closer to the living room, you confirm your suspicions that it was Hyunjin who was gathering everyone's attention.

Told that bitch I'm sorry though,

He's dancing to the pre-chorus of the song, his moves both sharp and fluid and easily attracting the gaze of any onlooker with how beautifully he executes the dance moves.

‘Bout my coins like Mario,

You put your shoulder bag down onto the closest flat surface, pulling your phone out of your pocket and sliding it next to your bag.

Yeah, they call me Cardi B,

You push up the sleeves of your loose oversized sweater and tug down the ends of your leather skirt for the last time before jumping in next to Hyunjin.

"I run this shit like cardio!"

Your shout jars Hyunjin a bit, and he turns shocked to see you dancing along next to him but his body continues the choreography unconsciously. You move in sync with him, the dance moves encoded within the tiniest molecules of your body and executed without hesitation nor active thinking on your part. The two of you enjoy each other’s presence–the dance a form of greeting towards the other–and basking in the deafening cheers of the crowd around you.

Your duet with Hyunjin is smooth despite its spontaneous nature, the two of you had danced together a countless number of times and the charismatic energy between you is the result of it. You interact with each other as you dance, smiling or winking, and weaving the other into your freestyle sections of the dance. All too soon, the choreography is over once the chorus finishes, and Hyunjin and you exchange a high-five and a side hug.

“L/N Y/N, can you ever make a normal entrance?” Hyunjin has you still trapped under his arm as he questions you. The two of you laughing as he leads you towards some of his members.

“Y/N wouldn’t be Y/N if she did that, now would she?” Jisung answers for you, meeting you and Hyunjin halfway with two cups in his hand. He extends one for you and you take a sip, accepting the non-alcoholic soda.

“What? You boys got no alcohol?” You tease him and the two other members standing beside him; Felix and Minho, wondering how they were planning to survive the night without any alcohol.

“The alcohol comes out later babe,” Jisung replies, sending a wink and a flying kiss your way and you can only laugh at his actions.

“Yah, you ever stop flirting?” Felix is quick to jump to your defense and your heart does a little thing when you finally face him. He’s wearing matte leather pants and a thin black full-sleeve crewneck that’s tucked inside. His blonde hair is parted somewhere down the middle in a messy comma style look, beautifully framing his sharp face. He finishes the look with his accessories; a long thin chain necklace with a small pendant, and his metal dreamcatcher earring on his left ear–your favourite. Okay, now your heart was doing more than just a little thing.

“Yah, when did you make plans for a couple outfit with Y/N?” Minho is quick to jump into the conversation, snatching up the opportunity to fluster both you and Felix. He teasingly nudges Felix beside him with his elbow as the group looks at you, in your matte leather skirt and oversized knitted sweater, and Felix, in his matte leather pants and black crewneck.

Felix is flushed and a stuttering mess, and you’re not in a much better state under Hyunjin’s arm as he squeezes you closer and makes teasing noises. You groan and cover your face with your hands, only causing Hyunjin, Minho, and Jisung to laugh harder. Through the thin gaps between your fingers, your eyes peak through to easily find Felix, gauging his reaction to this whole situation. Your eyes meet to see that he was already looking at you, and he sends you a cute sheepish grin–eyes sparkling, cheeks puffed full and all–and you send one back, both your hearts fluttering.

It was past midnight and the party was still going on. Time really flew by as you danced some pre-debut songs with Minho, chatted with Jeongin about his last school year, and debated about the Marvel Universe with some of the other boys. They had long since ordered takeout–which was gone in the blink of an eye especially with Chan inhaling all the food in his field of vision–and were now left with the dilemma of to order or not to order supper. 

Someone brought up the idea of chimaek and many of you agreed, especially since the younger members had called it a night when the clock struck 2AM. So here you were, sitting in a circle on the floor with Chan, Minho, Hyunjin, Jisung, and Felix playing a game of dirty truth or dare–an idea brought to light after a good bunch of you were at the very least tipsy. So far, you had been playing it safe with truths, saving the dare until you felt you were confident enough (with alcohol in your system of course). You thanked the lord for not getting any terribly embarrassing truths yet, god knows how many of the boys already know about your crush on Felix.

“Okay! Okay!” Jisung is slurring his words a bit but he’s not gone just yet, “Next player!” Then he’s spinning the bottle, all six of you watching in anticipation until it finally comes to a stop facing Chan. Now everyone is watching Chan as Jisung presents him the options; truth or dare?

“Dare.” His voice is firm as he speaks and you wonder whether the confidence is coming from the alcohol in his system. Jisung pulls up the dare deck, splaying our the cards in front of Chan and allowing him to randomly draw one.

“Take off your pants and show your boxers to everyone,” Chan reads out and the five of you whoop and holler causing Chan to chuckle, “and let the person in front of you decide whether you keep it off or not.”

“I’ll say it now, you have to keep them off.” Minho is assertive with his decision, only causing all of you to laugh at the situation Chan is in. He groans and throws his head back, leaning on his two hands resting behind him and unraveling his legs from the criss-cross position.

Chan breathes out a sigh as he gets up, his hands finding the waistband of the black cargo buckle pants he wore. A part of you was already enjoying the sight of Chan in that, but you let him continue, cheering him on with the rest of the guys. Chan’s eyes meet yours for a second, a light flush on his cheeks as he realizes you’re the only girl in the group but he keeps going as he tugs his pants down then finally off. He throws his arms up wide, a somewhat prideful and somewhat embarrassed look on his face, taking in the now louder hooting and hollers as he stood in his black boxers. 

“Yah, don’t enjoy the view too much Y/N,” Hyunjin voices out loud, teasing you and you raise your hand in surrender trying your best not to focus on the bottom half of Chan. He sits back down and takes the bottle, spinning it on the floor, the sound of glass on wood slowly dying down as it stops to...you.

Fuck.

The boys are cheering, a couple drumming the floor in excitement before Chan turns himself to face you, ready to ask “Truth or Dare?”

“Y/N hasn’t done any dares so far,” Minho outs you in front of everybody, you face him with your jaw dropped and a look of betrayal. 

“You gotta do dare Y/N, we’ve been playing for half an hour already!” Jisung exclaims from beside Minho. He starts up a small chant, chanting ‘dare’ continuously and you give in. You were gonna go for it anyway.

“Okay, dare. Hit me.” You smirk back, facing chan who grabs the dare pile and extends it towards you. You stretch out with your hand to reach the pile, ending up on your knees in a crawling position and you don’t miss the sweeping glance Felix gives your figure. 

Once you’ve pulled a card out, you sit back down on your ankles, reading the written dare out loud, “Body shots on the person sitting to your left.”

God if you thought the boys were loud before, they were pushing it now; hollering, cheering, and whooping at the fact that you had to do body shots on Lee Felix. Your eyes slide over to him sitting beside you and he’s laughing along with the boys, feeling fewer inhibitions thanks to the alcohol running in his veins. By the time you’re facing the other boys, you see Minho sliding back down with a bottle of tequila in one hand and a shot glass in the other, and Jisung flashing you the salt container in his hand and the innocent smile on his face. Hyunjin walks in later with a sliced piece of lime in his hand.

“Are you...okay with this?” You turn to face Felix, questioning if you had his consent first. 

“I’m okay if you’re okay,” a soothing smile stretches on his face and you melt, wondering how you could do body shots on this adorable guy in front of you. 

“Okay lovebirds, prepare yourselves. Romeo, lie on the couch.” Chan directs Felix and he’s quick to do as he’s told, unquestioning the choice of nicknames. “Y/N, you wanna do the honours?”

All of a sudden, it’s like the alcohol in your system pooled together to give you a final boost of confidence. You stretch out your hand in Minho’s direction, asking for the bottle of tequila and he and the others quickly pass you everything you need for a shot. The boys cheer you on as you unscrew the bottle, pouring the tequila into the shot glass. You take the shot first, feeling you’d need all the confidence you’d get, then pour another one.

“Okay boys,” you lift the full shot glass, facing the boys with a smirk on your face. “Where does this shot glass go?”

“Chan?” Jisung questions, letting the guy who spun the bottle decide. 

Chan exchanges a sly gaze with Minho, his eyes finding Felix and smirking as he voices out, “Gotta be between the thighs.” The boys are screaming, squealing, hollering–you name it. For a moment you lose your confidence, but you don’t let it show. Instead, shrugging as you turn to face Felix sitting on the black leather couch waiting for you.

The smirk is still on your face as you stand up and walk towards Felix. For the sake of your dignity, you choose to try your best to ignore the four boys sitting behind you and watching the show. When you’re standing in front of him, you reach forward, your hand pushing Felix’s shoulder so he lays down on the couch. From behind you hear the boys squeal, but the sound is distant at this point as your eyes focus on Felix, the two of you in your own bubble. 

He reciprocates your smirk with his own, laying down as you commanded him to and getting comfortable. You kneel down beside him on the floor as your hands go to the hem of his crewneck and pause. With your gaze, you ask for his permission and when he nods to let you continue, you begin to roll up his top. Your hand brushes the skin of his abdomen as you push his sweater up to his chest. The light tingling making his abs clench and unclench, your eyes feasting in the sight before you. 

Fuck, you take back what you said about Felix being adorable. He was hot too. Who knew he was hiding such a gorgeous sight under his clothes? Without you realizing, your fingers trail the ridges of his abdomen. Tracing the three horizontal ab lines–you counted–and watching your finger dip up and down accordingly. Then, your finger reaches the main center ridge and you pause. 

Your eyes look up to find Felix’s and you hold his gaze as you drop your face down close to his abs. Your tongue touches the bottom of the ridge, and you watch as Felix hisses, feel his abs clench beneath your tongue. You drag your tongue up, licking the middle line of his abs and tingling feeling between your thighs intensifies at the taste of him. 

The moment feels like it stretches forever, but it’s only a matter of a few seconds and you withdraw your head. Your hand reaches for the salt sitting beside you and you shake out the salt onto the long path you’d just licked. You probably didn’t need to lick his abs to have the salt stick on him, especially considering how deep his ab lines were, but you did it anyway and you had no regrets.

You put the salt back down and grab the shot glass. Your hand taps the inside of his thigh, telling him to lightly spread his legs and you can slide the glass in the gap between. The glass sits a little below his crotch and you’re not surprised to find a tent in his pants. If anything, you make sure to graze his crotch as you withdraw your hand, serving to further tease him and enjoying the way he groaned your name.

You giggle as you move to his face, your own hovering above his and you slip the slice of lime into his mouth. You give him a quick wink and then duck your head back down.

You don’t hold eye contact with Felix this time as you lick his abs again, licking the salt you’d previously poured on him. You enjoy the strangled moan that leaves his lips, loving the feeling of his abs clenching from the sensation of you licking him. As soon as you’ve licked up all the salt, you travel down, your head facing his crotch area. Your mouth dips down and grabs the shot glass between his thighs, your lips teasingly grazing his thighs and the tent in his pants. You pull the glass out, using your hand to help drink your shot before putting it down somewhere on the floor. You swallow the drink in your mouth then seal your lips over his, sucking on the lime that he holds between his teeth. 

You pull back with the lime now in your mouth, the sound of the boys wolf whistling and cheering finally coming to your attention. But you only pull back to chuck the lime somewhere out of the way before you lean back down and kiss Felix, properly this time. Your hands are on either side of his head on the leather couch, supporting your weight, and your lips dance with his. Your head is spinning, your heart is thundering but you keep kissing. At some point Felix holds your wrist, tugging you towards him and pulling you to straddle him on the couch. 

He reciprocates the kiss with a fiery intensity that you felt you’d never get enough of. His tongue slips inside your mouth and the two of you are making out. In his dorm. In front of four of his members. But he doesn’t care and neither do you, instead only focusing on the lingering taste of tequila in your mouth. His lips feel hot on yours, his tongue dancing with yours inside your mouth and you’d kiss him forever if you could. Sitting on his lap, his one hand on your hips, the other pulling you down closer to him.

But the moment is quickly interrupted by Chan, arguably the most mature in this situation who calls out loud enough to break the two of you up. You pull away from Felix, your lips already missing the feeling of him, but you realize the situation and cringe in embarrassment. 

You groan and try your best to hide, burying into Felix’s chest which only rumbles in laughter like the four other boys behind you. He sits up with you still cradled on his lap. His arm is wrapped around your waist and holding you to him, using your body to help hide the situation he now has in his pants.

When you finally pull your head up, the boys are beginning to pack up and call it a night. Each helping to straighten out the living room a bit before dispersing into their rooms. You finally turn to face Felix, pushing away the shyness that is taking over you now. For a moment you’re content just staring at him, his eyes telling you everything you’d need to know, answering all the questions you had for him. Just as you go to finally say something, you’re interrupted by Chan’s muffled voice drifting away as he walks down the hall.

“Your night’s probably not over but try to keep it down! And use protection!”

A/N: rip if my body shot and kiss scenes are a bit awks ;-;

[american-satanxx]

Animal in Me//Chapter 16

Author’s note:  There will be characters in this story that are 100 percent made up and they are characters my friends have submitted to me. Just forwarning you.

Tag list:  @SCARECROWMAX @KINGNIAZX @LEATHERANDHEELS @IJUSTWANTTOKISS70SROGERTAYLOR @TAMRARAE

MASTERPOST

If You Leave Me, You Will Kill Me Now

December 8th, 1984 I pull up to Vince’s place and a valet appears. I smile at the man before killing the engine. He gives me a ticket in exchange for my keys. As he drives off in my corvette, I walk into the party. The music is loud and there are a ton of people in the house as well as the pool area in the back. But despite how big the party is, it didn’t take long to find Nikki. He was in the living room with Mick, Mick’s girlfriend Lena, and Tom Zutaut from Elektra, Mick and Lena are talk amongst themselves. Tom is looking around awkwardly. And Nikki? Nikki is snorting a giant pile of cocaine, licking the surface clean. A sigh escapes my lips and I shake my head. Since meeting him, I’ve seen the drug use go to new levels. At first, he was doing it ever so often. Now we can barely have sex without him snorting a line off my ass or chest. I fear his drug use is going to get worse before it gets better. “Aria!” Lena announces my presence prompting both Mick and Nikki to look up at me. I shoot a smile before making my way towards the group. “It’s about time you got out here.” “How did Mick convince you to come out?” I question her. Since meeting her, I question how someone like her can be the girlfriend of a rockstar. She very rarely comes out, she rather sit at home with a good book. I often envy her. Being with Nikki, I feel like I have to constantly be the life of the party or he’ll get bored of me and find another blonde. Which is stupid. We’re not even together. Lena shoots Mick a glare but when her attention returns to me, she’s wearing a smirk. “I’m starting to ask that very same question myself. But hey, at least I’m not alone now.” I let out a laugh as I sit down to Nikki. He leans over and kisses my cheek before preparing yet another line of cocaine. He offers it to me and I just shake my head. He shoots me a questioning look before snorting up the line and licking the surface clean once again. “You’re really getting your money’s worth, huh Sixx?” I question him. “How about you take a break, yeah? You’ve got all night to be coked up.” He shoots me a glare. “Last time I checked you weren’t my mother.” He sneers. “And since when you care about my drug use? You’re not going prude on me, are you?”

“Let’s not fight, please.” I urge him. “How about you take me to the kitchen so I can get a drink?” I press my body up against his and bat my eyelashes. A smirk grows on his lips as he gets up off the couch and drags me with him. Hand in hand, we head to the kitchen. “What does the fine lady want to drink?” He asks as he pulls out the bottle of Jack Daniels for himself. “Jack and Coke.” I reply. “Heavy on the Jack my love.” “How else would I prepare it?” He smiles. “So what gives? Since when do you refuse drugs?” “I’m trying to be a good girl tonight.” I shrug. “This morning I woke up with a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach. I can’t explain it.” “And what does that have to do with not doing lines of cocaine with your favorite rockstar?” “I kinda what to keep myself in my right mind.” I explain further. “I want to be hyper aware in case something actually happens; which I pray doesn’t.” “You’re being paranoid, babe.” He hands me my drink and kisses my cheek. “Come on, let’s head outside. I think I need some fresh air.” With this free hand, he takes mine and guides me through the crowd and towards the back patio. . Just as we pass through the living room, I notice Vince and Beth arguing over something. Razzle is standing off to the side looking around awkwardly. “Should we save your boy?” Nikki whispers in my ear. “I’ll be right back.” I kiss his cheek before breaking away to head over to the Brit. Once over there, he perks up and pulls me into a hug. “It’s so good to see you, love.” He gives me one last squeeze before releasing me. “Please save me from this?” He points to the fighting couple behind us. “I refuse to get in between Beth and Vince.” I inform him. “Beth doesn’t like me much. Apparently she doesn’t believe me when I say nothing has happened between me and her husband.” “But you don’t like Vince.” “She doesn’t believe that.” I shrug. “Whatever they are arguing about, it’s going to stay between them. Wish I can save you, but I can’t.” “If you don’t listen to me, at least listen to Aria!” I hear Beth yell. I silently curse under my breathe before turning towards them. “Aria tell him, he doesn’t need to go out. Tell him that he’s too drunk to get behind the wheel.” “Beth, he’s not listening to you,” I start. “He definitely won’t listen to me. It’ll be stupid to even try to talk Vince out of doing something.” She just glares at me before turning towards her husband. “Do whatever you want!” She yells. “I don’t care anymore.” She storms off in a huff. Vince just looks at me with a sympathetic expression. “Sorry, Summers.” “Don’t worry about it.” I shrug it off. “Your wife hates me, I get it. But if you are going out, please be safe okay? Just because I don’t like you, doesn’t mean I want to see you dead.” He nods at me before turning towards Razzle. “Ready to go?” “Ready as I'll ever be.” Razzle smiles before walking up to me and kisses my cheek. “See you in a bit, love. Save a dance for me, will you?” “Of course Razz.” I smile. “Be safe, both of you.” “Yes mother!” Vince rolls his eyes but there is a playful smirk on his lips. “See you in a bit Summers.” I watch both Vince and Razzle stumble outside. Deep down, the bad feeling I woke up to intensifies. I let out a sigh before going to find Nikki outside. I sit down next to Nikki and another sigh escapes, earning the attention of the bass player. “You okay, babe?” Concern is actually dripping from his words. “What was the fight about?” “Vince wanting to go out with Razzle.” I reply. “Both of them are way too drunk to be behind the wheel. Should I have sided with Beth? Or just allowed Vince to whatever he wants.” “Vince isn’t a child.” Nikki shrugs. “Even if you sided with Beth, he wouldn’t have listened.” “I just have a bad feeling about this.” I mutter. Nikki sighs before taking my hands and pulling me over into his lip. He wraps his arms around me but it does nothing to kill the bad feeling growing in the bit of my stomach. ** “Has anyone seen Razzle and Vince?” Andy McCoy, Hanoi Rocks lead guitarist, asks. “They’ve been gone over an hour.” “They probably made a detour to a strip club.” Tom chuckles. I shoot him a look, knowing that wasn’t the case. “I really haven’t been drinking,” I inform him. “Let’s get in my car and we’ll drive up and down the streets. Vince’s car is very hard to miss.” “You sure?” Andy looks at me then at Nikki, who’s glaring at him. “I would hate to pull you from your boyfriend.” “He’s not my boyfriend.” I say before getting up off of Nikki’s lap. “And I’m worried too. Come on, let’s get out of here.” I lean down and kiss Nikki’s cheek. “I’ll be back, okay?” “Be safe.” He smiles before leaving a chaste kiss on my lips. “I expect you back in one piece.” “Aye, aye captain.” I smile at him before leading Andy outside to my car. ** “How can you be so sure that they aren’t at a strip club instead?” Andy asks, breaking the silence. “Isn’t Vince always at a strip club?” “Vince wouldn’t leave his wife alone with a house full of drunk rockstars.” I reply. “Plus, I’ve had a bad feeling in the pitch of my stomach since the two left.” “So what kind of car am I looking for?” Andy asks as I come to a stop. Up ahead, I see the bright lights of police lights. I get out of my car and notice, I’m not the only person doing so. Very person stuck in this parking lot traffic is doing the same. An officer comes close to us. “Please get back in your cars.” He orders us. “There was an accident and we are currently working on getting the passengers to the hospital.” Fear washes over me. “What kind of car was involved?” I ask, dreading the answer. “An orange Pantera.” He replies. I can feel everything drain from my body. “Now please get back inside of the car. “No.” I simply say before rushing past him and heading straight towards the accident, completely ignoring the yells of the officer and Andy. I get to the accident just in time to see the EMTs put Razzle’s body in the ambulance. I scan the area until my eyes land on Vince. Vince is sitting on the curb with his arms behind his back and are in handcuffs. I rush over to him, sliding on the concrete, until I’m kneeling in front of him. “Vinnie, what happened?” I ask the blond in front of me. He looks up at me with bloodshot eyes. He looks scared; beyond scared. “Vince, what happened?” “H-he f-f-f-fell asleep.” Is the only thing he manages to say before he starts bawling his eyes out. I immediately pulling him into a hug. He just sits there crying into my chest. “Aria, what happened?” Andy’s voice asks behind me. I turn around, tears in my eyes. “Aria, where’s Razzle?” “On his way to the hospital.” I croak out as tears flow freely from my eyes. “The closest hospital is about a couple miles away. Get in my car and go. I’m going to stay here with Vince.” “Are you sure?” He questions me. “What about Razzle?” “I’ll be there shortly.” I assure him. “If he wakes before I get there, assure him I’ll be right there with a pint of beer and a porno.” He shoots me an uneasy smile, knowing the inside joke me and the drummer share, before doing as I say. I just cling onto Vince for dear life; praying to whoever is in charge in the skies above. Please let that excitedly puppy be alright…

[niksixx]

Live for Yourself

Requested: By an Anon

Pairing: The Dirt! Nikki Sixx x Reader

Description: Would you write either a Nikki x reader or Tommy x reader where it's similar to Nikki's OD but instead of drugs it happens to the reader with alcohol and the boys freak out and it ends with fluff?

Warning: Mentions of alcohol abuse, needles

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You heard it all before, it was nothing new.

“You drink too much.”

“You’re an alcoholic.”

“Rehab isn’t that bad.”

Instead of worrying about you and your supposed “drinking problem” the boys should be focusing on themselves and their road to recovery. If you were being honest, the boys were the ones with the problem. Nikki had overdosed on heroin…twice. Tommy was addicted to coke. Drunk out of his mind, Vince killed Razzle. And Mick? He was one pill away from becoming dependent on painkillers.

With you, there was nothing to worry about, at least not in your mind anyway. So maybe you did spend most of your money on liquor, what gives? You still had enough money saved up for food and your apartment rent. Aside from your large supply of alcohol, those things were the only ones that mattered.

Alcohol was also the only way you could cope. When life dropped a bomb on you, alcohol was there to comfort you. After being fired from a job, you turned to vodka. Got in a fight with Vince? Good ‘ol gin eased your mind. Whiskey was your friend after you had been in a car accident, and tequila kept the nightmares away. Alcohol was beneficial, not detrimental.

It took you by surprise one night after a concert. Instead of heading out to a club like they always had, Nikki, Vince, Mick and Tommy decided to stay in Mick’s hotel room and order take out. According to Tommy, they were “worn out.”

“You are all pathetic,” Jokingly, you pointed at each band member while you sipped from the large bottle of Tito’s vodka in your hand. Vince rolled his eyes but you pretended not to notice.

“Going out gets old, Y/N,” Mick answered, giving you a pointed look. “And so does the drugs. And the drinking.”

Laughing, you held up the bottle. “Drinking will never get old. You guys are rockstars for fucks sake, you’re telling me you can’t handle your liquor anymore? Or your drugs?”

“I died, Y/N,” Nikki grimaced. “Twice. That shit isn’t fun anymore. You should quit while you’re ahead.”

Angrily, you threw back your chair, clutching the bottle tightly before stomping out of the room, making sure to slam the door on your way out. If they wanted to be boring, fine. You wanted to have fun, and there’s no better party than partying by yourself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Do you think we pissed her off?” Nikki asked, stealing the last of Tommy’s wing platter. The drummer shot him a look before answering.

“Probably. What if we just enrolled her into rehab with her knowing?”

“You’d be a dead man,” Vince laughed, popping a fry into his mouth. “You think she’s still sulking in her room?”

Mick shrugged. “Let’s go check.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was very unlike you to keep your hotel room door shut, let alone locked. Digging into his pocket, Mick pulled out his house key. Last night, the boys discovered his house key could unlock the hotel doors.

Pushing open the door, the first thing they saw was your lifeless body on the floor. Your skin had acquired a blue tint and your neck and shirt were covered in fresh vomit. Fear, panic, and utter devastation kicked in and the boys found themselves surrounding your body. While Nikki shook your body, desperately trying to wake you, Vince was already one step ahead of him, exchanging words with the 9-1-1 dispatcher.

They watched as your body was wheeled into the ambulance. Each boy was crying by now as the paramedics did everything they could to console them.

“She’s alive. If you waited any longer,” the paramedic sighed before hopping into the ambulance. “She might not be.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They raced to the hospital all in one car. Tommy and Nikki were sobbing in the back as Mick drove Vince’s car, the blonde singer crying quietly in the passenger seat. They were almost too late. A minute later, you could’ve been gone for good.

The doctor had let the boys visit you once your stomach had been pumped free of the alcohol you had consumed. Your body was still weak as the nurse inserted the IV into your arm, but you were starting to feel the slightest bit better.

The boys came in one by one. They hugged you, cried with you, pleaded with you to seek help. Of course, you told them yes, but it was just to get them off your back.

But then Nikki came into your room and a pain visited your chest that hadn’t been there before. Red rims circled his usual dark eyes and his hands were shoved into his back pockets. He tried to smile for your sake, but he ended up breaking down in your arms.

“I thought I lost you.”

Maybe now was the time to admit your feelings. There was always a special connection between you and the Mötley Crüe bass player, but more recently you felt that connection grow stronger. Everything about Nikki pulled you toward him.

“Nikki, I--.”

“No baby, let me talk. You just rest.” You blushed at his soft words, noticing how even Nikki’s face turned bright red soon after. “I never said this to you before and I guess there’s no time like the present, right? I love you, Y/N, and I can’t lose you. I care too damn much about you to let you ruin your life. You don’t see it now and you might not see it for a while, but you have to trust me.”

The insides of your cheeks were raw from your incessant biting. Nikki searched your face for any sign of emotion, clasping your cheeks in his palms. “I don’t know if I can get better, Nikki. I’m in too deep.”

Nikki shook his head, bringing your knuckles to his lips. “You’re not in too deep. It’s never too late to get help. We all did it. We all want to be here next year and the year after that. You have to want the same thing. Isn’t there something you want to live for?”

Him. It was him. “You,” It rushed out of your mouth as a breathy whisper. There was no hesitation in your answer and there was no mistaking the smile on Nikki’s face. You wanted him, wanted to be with him more than anything.

“Baby girl, you have no idea how much it means to me to hear you say that, but that’s not the answer I was looking for.” He pulled back after kissing your nose, eyes sparkling from the few tears that had gathered in his eyes. “I want you to live for yourself. For the woman you want to be. This lifestyle you’re living now? Change it. You have to want to get better.”

Looking into Nikki’s eyes, you knew you did.

[jksangelic]

↳ rating: M

↳ genre: romance, angst, dry humor, smut, undergroundrapper!yoongi (don’t be fooled, yoongi is a soft lover in this), one-shot (divided for the sake of a functioning mobile tumblr)

↳ pairing: yoongi x reader

↳ parts: 1 | 2 | 3

↳ word count: 2.8k

↳ a/n: here’s the first part! second part comes tmro, and third comes the next day, both releasing at 10PM PST! please look forward to them heehehehe. 

this part does not contain smut, only light swearing and maybe some sensual themes? i don’t remember lol. it’s also not very edited hehe i’ll come back to it.

*each squiggly divider represents a flashback, straight divider represents current time*

Yoongi preferred the heat set to exactly eighty degrees Fahrenheit, which was utterly ridiculous. It caused you to toss and turn in a pool of unattractive, and possibly foul-smelling, sweat all throughout the night. Even more so, he trapped you with his own limbs, protecting you like that stupid dog from Tom and Jerry protected that awfully large and awfully raw steak. You’ve fallen in and out of consciousness because of it, surely waking up every thirty minutes while the man slept like a log.

But it was wonderful.

You open your eyes for the umpteenth time, assuring he’s still attached to the hip and planting a kiss on his forehead sleepily. What a dream it would be to stay like this forever, you think, tossing the idea away as quickly as it came. It was punishing as is and you dare not tie the noose around your own neck.

You scan the room, curtains drawn closed and tv silently flicking through commercials, casting a dim width of light onto the bed. It must still be pretty early in the morning, you assume, a bittersweet realization.

Enjoy the moment, you correct yourself, be happy that you were able to have this. So you peer down at him through foggy vision, his eyes closed and mean, twitching a bit enough that you suppose he’s dreaming of something himself. Nudging your face into his hair, which smelled faintly of smoke and peaches, you force yourself back into slumber.

For the first time tonight, you sleep deeply.

Wondering how the hell anyone was permitted admission after the venue breached occupancy threefold, you rub at the aching spot of your ribs that your neighbor unintentionally keeps jabbing. You attempt to peer over the sea of heads anyway, looking for that goddamned girl that dragged you here in the first place. Where was she? Why was she so short? Why did you wear heels to a concert?

Never did you suspect you would be pushed against barricade at 11PM on a Thursday, waiting for an artist you have never heard. The sweat that accumulates, quite frankly, everywhere was probably starting to stain your clothes at this point. The beauty of public outings.

“Y/N! Y/N! Right here!” screams the woman of your nightmares, waving maniacally more towards the middle of the crowd than you but nevertheless farther than you would like to travel in this density. You make your trek, apologizing profusely as full-grown adults glare at you for moving, oh help them all.

“I will have your head for this,” you yell into her ear, gripping the divider to ease the stinging pain stemming from your toes.

“Lighten up, you’re at a concert that you got into for free, for heaven’s sake,” Chungha pouts, bopping her head happily to whatever DJ was opening for her beloved. “I think you’ll like these guys, anyway. Really good rappers, up-and-coming and all that good stuff.”

“Yeah, if they even show up. This poor dude has been playing for over an hour. Do you suppose his fingers hurt from pressing all those buttons?” She rolls her eyes in a way that says, please stop already. You really just want to know.

If this DJ had any influence of what the main act would be, you would rather just leave, plain and simple. This wasn’t really your thing in the first place, Overwatch and Red Dead Redemption (not one, but TWO!) sounding much more appealing than listening to EDM’s Worst Hits. But Chungha was a sweetheart who you’d marry in an instant, and when she asked you to come and claimed she already got you a ticket because she knew you couldn’t possibly say no to her, well, you couldn’t possibly say no to her.

You even dressed up for the occasion, a mix of Instagram baddie and Tumblr aesthetic (a sum of words you’d never like to use again) smooshed into one oddly cute outfit, if you did say so yourself.

It wasn’t worth your time.

But then the music starts changing pace, lights changing colors and dimming and smoke machines going ham and you suppose it’s finally starting. Three men walk out, one with orange hair and a long but pretty nose, heart mouth showcasing the straightest teeth you’ve ever seen on a human being, the second slightly shorter, bleached hair styled messily and the hand holding his mic covered in rings, the final with a smirking dimple, leading them out and hyping up the crowd with a few welcoming words that you don’t quite make out.

“There’s three,” you state dumbly.

“Great job counting! Remind me to give you a cookie later,” Chungha retorts halfheartedly, much more intrigued by seeing these men in person, “The guy in front is RM, he’s their leader. Blonde is Suga. J-Hope is the sexy one—HOSEOK OPPA!” She screams as if she’s been struck with a spatula, eyes wide and focusing.

You like their style, you’ll give them that. RM starts the song strong, lyrics so quick and diction so clear that it sounds as if he’s rapping directly to you. They all bounce around the stage, people at barricade, including your friend, reaching out and bobbing along in synchronization. J-Hope follows suit, stage presence oddly intimidating and seductive concurrently, his body more fluid and powerful than any dancer you’ve seen before. You can see why he would be the ladies’ man, lying to yourself if you said your eyes haven’t focused on his hips more often than not.

And without warning, Suga bursts into his own lines, atmosphere changing almost immediately when he brings the mic to his mouth. It’s hypnotic, his words continuously stringing out without break, without a single beat missed. You watch in fear. As the crowd around you screams and attempts to chime in, Suga steps closer and closer to them, squatting down right in front of where you stand and finishing his part with a deep, breathy note. He sits there as both men and women (and Chunga) paw at him and for the smallest of moments, do you think, his eyes lock on you.

It sets you on fire.

Yoongi always made it a point to study the faces of his fans out of appreciation. It would be foolish to say he’d be able to recognize each and every person he’s ever encountered, but he knows you were one to sketch into the archives of his mind. It doesn’t help that you are the only one, mouth slightly agape and teeth biting the inside of your cheek, completely still and studying. For the first time in a while, he feels intimidated; self-conscious even. More than a listener amongst the energetic mob, you look more like a critic.

It makes him shiver.

I would be his groupie in a heartbeat, you think, no doubt that he too is infamous around women wherever he goes. Whatever the matter, seeing this enigma of a man was worth your whole night’s experience.

I love, I love, I love myself! The audience screams, bass intensifying as the other two reach for water bottles propped on the stage. I love, I love, I love myself!

J-Hope throws in some ad-libs, sipping from his water before chucking the lid entirely, Namjoon putting a hand to his ear to egg everyone on and holding his own water above. You still stand in place, astonished how ethereal someone can look on stage and you instantaneously understand why people barricade. Suga catches you again, still squatted in the same position, possibly too lazy to get a water for himself but lets his brothers do what they must, and grins subtly.

You must look absolutely moronic gaping at this man, tongue-in-cheek impressed and hands barely gripped around the bars while everyone else around strains to be closer to the stars of the night.

I love, I love, I love myself! Y’all player hater, you should love yourself!

And that’s when you get—at least, half of a water bottle’s worth of water thrown at your direction. Right in front of the newfound man of your dreams. Everyone else screams madly, acting like these gods have blessed their parched souls with water after days on end, while you now look a little like a wet dog dressed in a hoochie skirt. You shrug, wiping at whatever was worth attempting to dry and thanking the gods that your makeup wasn’t running.

“Oh my god, your shirt is soaked!” Chungha lately notices, head whipping back and forth from the boys to you, back to the boys just in case she was missing something important.

“I would sell myself for that man,” you deadpan, not even blinking towards her.

“Suga? I bet he would accept if you managed to offer it to him.”

“I would easily give him all of the money in my savings right now.”

“You don’t have a savings. Pay attention.”

So you did.

You relished in every part Suga had, finally gathering up enough brain cells to at least rock with everyone else. Every song was like a lucid dream, the concert high really resonating with you. Either that, or you were literally high off of how much smoke there was. Gotta love rap concerts.

Perhaps it was the luck of the opening song, but Suga didn’t make eye contact with you again, a beaten disappointment gurgling in your stomach. But instead of behaving as a kicked puppy and moping about losing every possible chance that the blonde devil would bring you atop the stage and dedicate his serenade of sorts strictly to your face in front of hundreds of people--well, the chances were nearly zero. We're not all winners.

Suga continues on, trying not to focus on the girl with the sharp eyes that makes him clammy to the point where his throat threatens to constrict on him, which isn't optimal. He finishes song after song with his brothers, taking long enough breaks in between to catch his breath and focus on the bigger picture: that there was an entire crowd to please and not just you. Besides, there would always be a pretty or handsome face no matter where he went, he was Suga, goddammit, he wasn't a high school horndog ready to pounce on every intriguing entity he just casually glanced at. That role was a style more befitting for his brothers.

 Upon your cognizance that this group was downright brilliant, the concert ends much sooner than you would have liked it. And just like that, the three send their love and are ushered behind the stage. It takes a while for the swarm to dissipate, interlacing your fingers with Chungha's to insure you don't lose her again.

 "So, I take it you liked them," she giggles, forehead sheen with sweat because holy shit it's so fucking hot in here.

"They are really... talented. I award proper recognition when it's truly deserved." Tired of waiting, you practically shove your way past the bodies, dragging your poor friend behind you and bee-lining for the entrance.

"Wait! Do you want to get merch?" You twitch your nose, not entirely opposing the idea.

"Are you sure you don't want to just hop in? I'll pay for you!" Chungha cries, halfway into her Uber.

"Sis, I live down the street, I promise I'll be fine. I'll call you when I get home."

"That's so far!"

"I'm walking away now. Go home."

She harrumphs once for effect before waving goodbye, Prius soundlessly whooshing away while your best friend sticks her tongue out at you in the back window. You laugh at her foolishness before spinning on your heel and making your way.

It was just the right amount of chilly, breeze cooling you down a notch. You bet your ass you would remember this night forever, writing a mental note to check out the group on every social platform there was when you got home.

 You skirt down a corner of the building, aiming for the route of your apartment--or, at least, where you think it is? "Sense of direction" surely wasn't the best trait on your resume. Walking down the dim street, you notice a few trickling souls walking in and out of the building, probably help from the venue closing up. It's when you see Suga, attempting to light his cigarette and leaning against a black van that you stop like a deer in headlights.

"Suga!" you point and exclaim like a child.

"... Wanna say that any louder, toots?" He chuckles, though, seemingly pleased rather than offended. He scoffs at his empty lighter, tucking the thing in his pocket and leaving his cigarette unlit on his lips.

"S-Sorry. My bad. Do you, uh, need a light?" you offer apologetically, digging through your purse to grab your lucky lighter, an embarrassing bright pink thing with Betty Boop floating in the middle.

"Thanks," he smiles, grabbing the lighter from your hand and flicking it to life as he takes a drag. "Do you smoke?"

"Not cigarettes. Honestly, I already regret offering that to you. That's a bad habit to kick," you sigh, taking it back when he hands it to you.

"Don't I know it." He glances up at your face when he returns your lighter, showing a regretful smirk but studying your face in the process. Well, hell, if it wasn't for the barricade critic.

"I recognize you," he continues, "you were up front, right?"

"Oh, god, I can't believe you remember that."

His heart skips at the match, blowing smoke out the corner of his mouth and pushing himself off the van. "You, uh, looked unimpressed. Got me worried that I lost my game for a bit."

"No! I wasn't unimpressed at all. I'm just a new fan, I guess. My friend brought me. I think I was just in awe, if anything. I even got this hood--"

You quite literally bite your tongue, wishing you could slap your face at the outburst, realization running over you like a train.

"You got what?" he presses, a sly curiousness brimming.

"N-Nothing. You were good. That's all."

"'That's all'? Geez, you're really putting me down over here, toots." He throws the butt and stomps it out, "Those eyes of yours really made me nervous."

Your eyes? How smooth of him. "Oh, I doubt that. You seemed just fine to me."

He hesitates to respond; what exactly are you trying to get at here? Sweet and sour, he supposes. It's interesting to him compared to the countless amount of substance-less gals that suck up to him to simply suck him. New fans certainly were feisty, he supposes.

"Do you live around here?" he asks.

"Are you going to stalk me? Yes."

"Well, if I was, you probably shouldn't have said yes before I answered. But luckily, no." He sticks out his hand, clad with rings of, you're sure of, soaring prices beyond what you can imagine for jewelry, "I'm Min Yoongi. But I guess everyone kinda just calls me Suga now. You can call me Yoongi, if you'd like. Can I ask for your name?"

You take his hand softly, hoping he doesn't notice the way you shrink in it because heavens that near-zero chance of meeting Suga certainly did skyrocket. "It's Y/N."

"Mm, pretty," he comments surely. "Well, Y/N. We're actually going to be here for a while, just finished a few shows here and there and decided to take a break until we can figure out bigger plans," he's talking too much, "Anyway, would you want to hang out sometime?"

You shiver in astonishment, what was happening here? What kind of lucky star flew over your head for this? Your goosebumps had goosebumps.

"That... Yeah, that would be great! Do you... Do you want my number?"

"Would love it," he declares, taking his phone out and setting up your contact without delay.

"Do you do this much? Snag a girl's number after a show?" you joke as you type in your number. Yoongi snorts.

"Girls don't necessarily talk to me in a well-respected manner, let alone offer me a light."

"Well, don't expect that last bit anymore. Smoking really is a pet-peeve of mine," you warn. Who were you to warn him of something you didn't like? Idiot!

"Yes, ma'am. I'll shoot you a text sometime. Was nice meeting you," he says, watching you nod and smile and wave goodbye as you continue on home, Suga's name printed enormously on the back of the new sweatshirt you bought from the merch stand. He bites back a snicker, picking at the hair on his neck before walking back inside.

[nhlhoser]

On The Rocks - 18

Part 17  Masterlist

word count:  3042

The usual minor swearing that comes with hockey

  Dinner ended up being at Aria a high-end Italian restaurant with Stephanie and Matt Martins better half model girlfriend Sydney. 1000 watt smile, beautiful long blonde hair, and hilarious. We didn't talk about hockey until the topic of Mitch's lip came up and Sydney explained that Matt has been having a hard time today himself, zoning out when he was pouring coffee causing the liquid to over flow and burn his hand.

"I have a good feeling about tonight," Sydney said firmly taking a large sip from her red wine, jealous as I sip my lime water because I have a long night of work still ahead of me.

"God, I hope you're right," Steph taking a needed gulp of her white wine.

"We can only hope," I agreed not knowing if I could handle the level of emotions if they lose tonight, the tension today is any indication. "Freddie, Mo, and Will all came to me about tonight's game. They're really scared," I leave out the interaction with Auston because it seemed wrong felt wrong to say anything for some reason.

Scanning over the Menu, I decide on Gnocchi Dish and a salad to start. Growing up in a household where Italian was spoken more than English, I barely notice that the menu was probably hard to understand for the rest of the table until Steph spoke up.

"What the hell is Antipasti?" both blondes looking confused.

"It's just dishes that aren't pasta. You want to look under Paste or Secondi those are Main dishes," I said casually my eyes not leaving the menu.

"You understand this gibberish?" Came Stephanie's slightly surprised response.

"Uhm yeah- I am Italian," I said slowly looking up to met Steph's wide eyes before her face morphs into one of confusion again.

"Since when?" She asked dumbly and visible face palming herself as the words left her mouth, Sydney finding the situation amusing as her lips pulled into a tiny smile as her shoulder shaking with laughter.

"About birth, I think as my parents are Italian. I thought you could kinda tell, you know olive skins and dark hair," I teased sipping my water as her eyes scan over my face taking in my features with a scowl.

I thought it was obvious that I was at least European.

"Man, I don't know much about you Do I?" She frowned at her wine making me frown.

"I'm a private person, Steph. It's not your fault," I offered, she nodded before continuing on trying to read the menu before again realizing she doesn't speak the language and groaning.

"I don't like mushrooms, what should I get?"

We ended up all ordering a pasta dish, which we all devoured quite un-lady like but we couldn't care because we were hungry and having a good time. Stephanie and Sydney take turns sharing the embarrassing tales that are their boyfriends and the things they do that would totally get them chirped within an inch of their lives if any of the guys heard.

We take dessert to go because we were running out of time but also we stuffed with carbie goodness. Sydney stole my phone and insisted we had to hang out more as she entered her number into my phone with slight difficulty from a bit too much wine for this early in the day when the night hasn't started yet but she had claimed if she was going to remain sane during the game she had to start now, which is quite understandable.

Parting ways as the other two girls head to one of the other WAGs places that are around the corner for some pre-drinking before the game. I drive the 15 minutes home, change and throw my dessert into the back of the fridge before heading back to the ACC to get ready for the night.

The medical room is empty apart from a couple physiotherapist checking over the medical supplies and preparing the packs for the bench tonight, Sparing a couple of greets before heading into the administrative office to work on some paperwork, recording who I've treated today and why.

When players start coming in, the atmosphere immediately shifts into a severe game mode. Quickly saving my work to the hard drive before logging off before heading out into the medical area where Leo Komarov, Nazem Kadri, and Nikita Zaitsev sit on the tables getting their ankles and wrist taped by the staff. Zaits and Leo speaking in a language I can only guess is Russian. Kadri looking bored as he stares intently as the staff tapes his left wrist with laser precision. There's heavy bass music coming from the actual locker room and the usual commotion of men getting ready.

  Spending about a half hour helping the therapist tape and massaging out tensions, Paul came around handing me a Leafs hat with a wink before continuing with players that came in. Setting the hat with my wind break in the staff area quickly before getting back to taping.

 "It's not serious, I'm just a little sore," A familiar grumpy looking Auston is being pushed into the room by an equally grumpy looking Matt Martin. Both in their under armor compression tops loose shorts with compression leggings under.

"Well, We have the resources to make you not sore. So shut the fuck up," Matt pushed the rookie further through the door, searching the room for someone and when his eyes land on me coming out of the staff area his face breaks in relief.

"Amelia! Talk some sense into this boy," He practically growled as Auston looks bashful not making eye contact.

"I got it from here Marty, Go terrorize Mitch or something," I shooed the larger man who leaves as I approach Auston, stopping three feet in front with my arms crossed my chest.

"Is it your back, again?" I gained Auston's attention.

"Your face," Is his only response making me roll my eyes.

"Box fell on my face, Now your back," I insisted it

Auston was unbreaking in our stare down, eyes steady and body language strong.

"Fine, you don't have to say anything. I can find you sore spot without you telling me," I sigh with a shrug. Auston is unmoving as I circle to his back taking his the mountain of muscle through the skin tight fabric. Panning my eyes from his neck to his hips (by default his bum). Instantly I can see the way he's standing his left lower side sore by the fact his left hip is pulled higher than his right.

Rolling my eyes at this guys stubbornness, I carefully lay my the palm of my hand in his lower back above his hip. Feeling the muscle tense followed by a wince so quick I almost missed it, there's a tiny beginning of a knot but it's deep.

With no warning, I dig the heel of my palm into the bundle of offending muscle and push. Auston gasps as I flex my hand and adjust my hand to now my fingers working out the tension until I feel the muscle release.

Stepping away, I circle back to his front with a frown and a glare.

"I'm aware that hurt Auston. We are here for a reason, you stay here well I get A535 for that," Forcefully pushing him to sit on the table closest giving him a pointed look. Darting to the supply cabinets, searching the shelves for the cream.

 Returning the table, my mouth dry's seeing as Auston took off his shirt in the little time I was gone, pausing in step briefly regaining composure. You are a professional-ACT LIKE ONE, AMELIA.

"It'll be easier if you lay down, " He wordlessly moves to a laying position now listening to suggestions. Uncapping and applying probably more than need amount of the cream directly to his lower back. Tossing the bottle on to a table I began rubbing the Goop around the offending area and his upper back but keeping the pressure on his lower back.

"Okay, that should do it," I pulled away 5 minutes later. My hands feeling gross because of heating and cooling properties. "Now go kick some Crosby ass," I teased as Auston sat up pulling his shirt on shaking his head.

"I'll try," with a wink and he leaves to finish getting ready.

After washing the cream from my hands, I spend the time until I have to go into the tunnel cleaning the medical room and spinning on an office chair. Paul eventually came in with a radio and ear piece for me before disappearing again, a sign I need get my act together. Pulling on the windbreaker, adjusting my ponytail before slipping the hat on, sticking the ear piece in and clip the radio to my belt.

  The music gets louder the closer it is until warm up, the air is thick with nerves and static excitement. Some of the guys are stoic others are non-stop movement and energy (Mitch). The energy is sure enough to give anyone goosebumps but having seen some of the work gives me crazy jitters myself.

  Coming into the commotion after Babcock does his speech and lines, he stands back as the guys start gathering the rest of their equipment on their body before starting to file towards the sliding doors. Morgan came up to me doing the random hand shake from last night before pausing about to bop my nose deciding that might not be the best idea.

"Kick some ass," I quipped as he wattles away with a laugh and a thumbs up. Freddie comes over and bonks the rim of my hat with a subtle wink.

"Amelia, have you met the newest 'baby leaf'," Connor brown come over with William rolling his eye at the term 'baby leaf'. They make way for a fresh face Kasperi.

"TOLD YOU," I cheered as a huge grin spreads across his face.  The blue of his jersey and helmet bringing out the blue in his eyes like to does with William and Mitch (and half the team).   Fist bumping before he's whisked away by some vets claiming to show him the way.

"Amelia, Can you grab the sticks? They were supposed to be out already." The equipment manager pleaded his hair a mess.

"Yeah," I smiled.

"I'll get one of the other staff to help, you're just the first person I saw," he breathed. I shook my head explaining I would require help, he nodded before running off to stress about something else.

Wondering the side door to the ice the sticks lay against the door waiting. There are two bundles as each player have multiple.

It takes two trips to get both bundles to the bench, I can tell why he had said he'd find someone to help as each bundle was quite heavy but I like to lift heavy things. 

There's a collective holy shit as the Leafs get the first goal of the game but then Kessel matches with his own for the penguins.  The air leaves the entire building when Freddie goes down, there are orders being blasted through the radio as soon as he comes to the bench and down the tunnel.  Mac swears and fumbles a fit getting up as an assistant brings him his mask and his stick and pat his back.

"You got this Big Mac," I chirp when he's on the ice turned to the bench getting a drink of water. He laughs and squirts the water at me, I duck to the side. The laughter lasts a couple seconds before it's serious time again and I'm back to jumping and reacting to everything happening on the ice but keeping my mouth shut.

There are seconds left in the second when Auston is involved in a knee to knee collision and "she drops. The entire bench starts swearing and cursing the opponent.

"Get up, get up," I chant under quietly willing the 6'3" center to get up -he does after what seems like minutes but was only seconds. His face gives away that he's in pain as he skates off and straight down the tunnel.

Pissed.

"Amelia, Matthews is saying you know what to do," was the first thing through the radio seconds later, the players haven't even cleared the cleared the bench yet.

"He knows I'm not a doctor, right?" I radioed back but still made my way into the locker room after the players, wasting no time getting to the medical room.

Auston's still taking off his gear, he adds a majority of it off already. I stood there blank face- wondering if this guy was serious right now?

"I'm not a doctor, Auston" I insisted glaring at the stupid teenage hockey player. The team doctor is standing over him with a similarly concerned glare.

Auston's face is a mix of uncomfortable pain and protest- grumpy. He opens his mouth but closes it when my glare deepened.

"It's just my my back, the same spot from earlier,"

"I'm not touching you until the doctor says it's just that,"  I declare challenging him to object my voice firm. He gives in nodding and the doctor begins his examination. My eyes still trained on Auston with a mighty glare.

"Why are you glaring at me now?"  A whine in his voice as his posture is slouched over like a child.

" 'cause you're an idiot, idiot,"  Crossing my arm and rolling my eyes like the adult I really am.

"Well it seems it's just what he said unless he's hiding something," The doctor pointed into Auston's knee trying to gage a reaction but nothing so the doctor dismisses himself.

"See, told you,"  Auston's tone flat but teasing.

"I need alcohol whips, tape and bio freeze,"

"And gloves,"

After applying a thick coat of bio freeze and a lot of pressure on the trouble spot, I let the Bio freeze seep into his skin and into his muscle before wiping away the excess cream with an alcohol wipe then getting started on taping the area for support.

In the end, I felt like I was sending an arts n craft project onto the ice with the amount of tape I used, I was praying for it to at least half for the period. The game is tied at 2 and the mood was still high and so was the dwindling energy.

It was Gardiner that broke the tie- not in the way we need.

Own goal.

The mood depleted instantly but luckily it was still relatively early in the period but that didn't stop the swearing and yelling from both benches. Auston was like a hellhound on the ice, he was rushing the net but they wouldn't go in.

"Fuck," I swore again when another brilliant play didn't work.  The fourth line and Auston were in a rush, the defense was crowding him when he passed back to Hunwick who with quick hands flicked to Kasperi and it was in the net the next.

Tie game

6:30 Minutes left

The building erupted in deafening cheers, I was jumping on a security guard in the tunnel not caring. The line did their fist bumps down the bench and the lines reset on the ice, on with play with a surge of adrenaline pushing them fast than Pittsburgh.

3 minutes late Connor Brown scored, deflecting the puck from Gardiners shot into the back of the net behind Fleury. The crowd somehow got even louder than I thought could be humanly possible. Paul was cheering and swearing into the radio.

4-3

2:30 minutes left

  A flame was lit under both team, Toronto working insanely hard to maintain the lead as Pittsburgh tried to take it, with multiple great plays but even better moves from Curtis McElhinney shutting even the great Sidney Crosby. 

Auston solidified the win with an empty netter down the ice for his 40th goal of the season.

5-3

3.4 Seconds left

THEY DID IT.

THEY WON.

Getting back to the medical room is tricky because of the all the media in the hall and celebration of the Leafs in the locker room. Getting in its void of life but still a mess but knowing how things go it's only going to get worse because the real treatments start after media.

When media left it got busy with many bodies because there is still a game to play tomorrow against the blue jackets, lucky I was in one of the private room to do treatments but not so lucky because some have yet to shower. As soon as I finished with Mitch I sent his ass to the showers 'cause he smelt so bad, then to the contrast pool for his legs-most players is in the hot tubs or contrast pool (extremely cold water). Leo is swearing in multiple languages as he sinks into an ice bath.

"Nice hat,"  Auston's voice startled me into the cabinet I am currently standing in front of arranging the blankets. Spinning around my hand over my pounding heart, Auston Stands in front of the closed door to the small room on the other side of the massage table looking- bashful.

"I owe you an apology but also a huge thank you,"  Running his hands through his hair nervously with the beginnings of a smile gracing his lips. I raised a brow at him, my head slightly tilted in confusion.

"I apologize for my stubbornness and for the position I put you in with Dr. Bettle but I was worried that I wasn't going to be cleared to play and I don't know what I would of down if that happened," His eyes close at the image of possibly not being able to play the rest of the most important game- my heart ached for him.  "Thank you for being really fucking good at your job, I-I honestly forgot there was even an injury well playing," He admitted with a shy smile.

"Anytime, Auston,"

"I'll be holding you to that," He winked.

"Please keep all emergencies during the day time," I teased but was being serious, taking a deep breath a rather ripe scent assaulted my nostrils.

"Oh my god, Auston! GO SHOWER,"

NEXT 

[silverhands-etcetera]

On The Road, Again.

Oh my, it’s been some time, hasn't it? There ain’t a lot of words I can think of to express the change and the loss and the perspective that has come into play since the last time I took to writing my days down on these pages. Perhaps in due time we’ll get around to telling all of the stories, if I can manage to get them out -a few of the tales bring water to my eyes, so maybe it’s good that the medium I work in here is just words, consumed long after they are brought to bear.

Whoa, that got dramatic…

Get this- we’re on tour. I’m in a plane, way up over Saskatchewan. Currently, My parents are in Virginia, my brothers are in their homes, Esme is in Rock Island & BJ is up there in the upper Mississippi valley, Joy & Tom are just above Greenlake, Jack is in Bellevue, Lucien is in Kirkland playing guitar, Ethan is in Nashville, Julian is mixing your next favorite record, and Aimee, Sherri & Michael are a few rows behind me in this huge metal tube up in the sky.

But it wasn’t supposed to be this way - all of us on a direct flight in the same plane, that is. I bought a ticket that sent me through Salt Lake City, entirely on the basis of economy. That was a couple months ago. A whole lot has transpired since then, on the road to me sitting in 23B, and pecking out this story.

This trip has been in the works for some time. Back when we were young & idealistic & slightly more foolish than I am right now.(I am aware that I changed our pronoun in mid sentence there, but it seems more correct that way.) I only jest a little about my altered level of foolishness. I know it’s a bit of a cliche, but sometimes there are events that open your eyes to how things really are, the people who glue your world together, and the people we hold esteem for without any real reason except for the ideas in our own heads. I’ve spent a lot of my life making space for, and forgiving the acts of one particular person. I wish it wasn’t so, but sometimes it takes a full-on tragedy to open the eyes of a fool such as I. I’m not gonna get into that right now, but I’m in a space where there is no grey area. I am heavy on regrets & light on shame or burdens.

I ain’t taken a band on the road for a couple years now. I have walked a many hundreds of miles in Spain in my last couple visits, but haven’t played a proper gig on the european continent since the (pre-election) 2016 tour. And my travel writing has dropped off too. Last spring, I thought I was in bad shape. I was nursing a broken heart, for sure. Since then I have lost my most noble role model, my strongest mentor, and the Dog who straight-up saved my life when I couldn’t find my identity or purpose. So yeah, a few things have changed. Anybody who knew Manolo, Steve or Faron would readily understand how the world is different without them in it. I’ve learned a lot from the choices they made, and the self-righteous acts of those who would take their choices away from them. I wish there was a way I could have learned the lesson without all the grief, but we all know that real lessons don’t come cheap.

As always, I digress. -

I think it was around February this year, I was talking to Alwin about bringing Silverhands back to Germany. We were talking about a gig in Erkelenz. I’d been rethinking what my band meant. Trying to get the songs to return to their essence, so to speak. Along the way, if I could step up my guitar playing that’d be pretty cool too… so Silverhands is a 3-piece band now. Just Aimee on the drums & Sherri on the bass, and most dramatically different- just me on guitar. We work really hard on letting the songs breathe and just exist. Many times in the past I have felt the joy of being pulled along by the songs and the people playing them. It’s a beautiful thing to hear a little sonic progeny of your very own sitting up and telling you how the ride is gonna go. Showing you that it has a voice of its own & there ain’t nothing you can do about it. Kinda how I imagine it’s like to have grown children. But songs ain’t children, and they are never too old for me to put over my knee & change their attitude when I see fit.

This stage in the life of my band is where I chill the hell out & try to assess where the songs are, and to potentially cull anything that doesn’t stand up on it’s own. I’ve been blessed with some inspired lead players -folks who can slip deeper melodic passages between the & and the 1 than I often manage to fortify an entire verse with. The beauty of this is that I can show up to any gig, hack out three chords and an occasional minor VI, and somebody is gonna turn it into music. Right now I’m trying to make sure I’m holding up my end of the bargain, and hoping to inform any future songwriting with a deeper level of independence from flourish. Clapton did a good job with JJ Cale songs, but they were all better when they were just JJ Cale songs.

I play with a few bands. Silverhands doesn’t even get the bulk of my time. I am lucky enough to play gigs with lots of varied folks playing all kinds of stuff, but I’m only IN just a couple of bands -I still get to play drums for the Joy Mills band, I play prog-funk & straight-up hardcore bluegrass on the bass fiddle with Supernatal & Darlin’ Do, respectively, and I rock the shit out of the electric Bass with Del Vox (if I might say so myself).

All y’all know that Del Vox is Sherri Jerome. And Sherri Jerome is Del Vox. I loooove these songs. There’s a lot of challenge in them, and consequently, there is much reward in playing with this batch of people.

It so happened that Sherri & I were both considering tour booking around the same time. Our bands’ unique personnel situations allowed us an opportunity to benefit from the usually mundane and costly logistics of travel. We booked each band on its own short run of dates, in mostly the same circuit of venues, back-to-back from the middle of September to the middle of October. Both bands are hitting some familiar haunts & some fresh new cities. (I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve been to Temse) (I actually have very few retrievable memories of belgium in general, but I’m pretty sure it’s always a good time)

As the tours started coming together, we began the long process of planning, preparing, refining our concepts, & ultimately packing our bags. I spent a lot of time deferring the literal act of packing, as well as much of the intangible act of “planning”, due to a hyper-busy summer into autumn -I have been playing a lot of bass gigs, stretching out on some country chops that I apparently grew up knowing, but never had the sense to use before now. I love learning new music & playing with new bands, but it takes up a big part of my brain, and ultimately all the clerical duties of being in a band tend to suffer for the sake of The Gig. I recognize that gigs are dependent on me being able to plan/book them, but when that big boulder gets rolling, sometimes you just do your best to stay in front of it.

So I bought a plane ticket awhile back, but really hadn’t put any thought into “planning” anything until Monday, and hadn’t considered “packing” until Tuesday morning. On Monday I realized that I had basically one pair of pants. And I was about to share a van with 3 people for a month. On Tuesday, newly outfitted, I realized I had no luggage that would fit all of the things I need to carry for this venture. Enter the Goodwill on 145th…

A giant, yet slim, tweed trunk, like the kind you'd expect to see on top of a stagecoach, goes home with me on Tuesday. I took the neck of my ’72 Geddy Lee Jazz bass & toss it in with about 20 plain black t-shirts and some socks. I am set.

I still had a gig to play on Tuesday night, so Jack loaned me his slick new blonde Jazz bass, which plays like 80 degree butter, and I went down to Conor’s to sew some pockets with Kelly Van Camp in Fredd’s new Tuesday-night project. My plan was to drink one beer & head home straight after the gig, but the North Star beckoned, and I was out till roughly 2:30, in bed by 3. It was a good night.

My eyes open around 9 AM on Wednesday. All I know is that I need to pick up the drummer at 1, and I need to get my second pair of pants in the laundry. I take a moment to consider falling back asleep, just playing guitar all morning, or any number of things more lovely than washing clothes & lugging suitcases. But we’ve got a job to do, and it starts with some cabbage & eggs. Just like every morning.

When I consider intangibles like “time” and “distance”, it always seems feasible that you could do all you need to do, clean up the dishes, take a nap, a walk in the park, entertain guests, and get a shine on your shoes all before 1pm. As it was, it was all I could do to meet up with the coffee crew up at the Herkimer before the headache started setting in. It was good to get a breather in what was going to be a very long day. Jackie & Aimee & I sat in the sun and moderated our respective awarenesses with warm beverages, warm sun and oxygen. Joy met us up at Graycie’s house, where we all piled in the van with our cases & bags and the remainder of an old flask that Aimee found in the back seat of my car. Let’s get this show on the road.

It was all we could do to find a table at the airport bar, another story altogether in getting any beverages brought to us. So after one round, I had to split to head to my gate & get on my two-part flight, while the rest of the band gets on the direct flight an hour later (remember, this was the story I was telling) but at my gate, there was no airplane. I expressed my concerns at the help desk in missing my connection, and the dear woman immediately rebooked me on the direct Seattle-Amsterdam flight. With the rest of my band.

A short train ride over to the international terminal, and now here I am. Or here we are, as it were.

Now that I’ve had my airline bottle of Dewar’s & a tiny chicken salad and fruit cup, we’re all up to speed -the only real variable being, will my old tweed trunk and the precious bass inside of it get to Amsterdam with me? But this is ultimately a question for the next episode, which starts roughly when the sun rises over Holland on Thursday morning.

-

At this point in the blog, we’ll find ourselves at the beginning of one story, chronologically, but also at the end, as things go on the page. Feel free to continue reading about my previous adventures, walking in Spain, and past tours way back to some bygone days.

Thanks for coming along for the ride.