#publicity

Not in love with publicity but in love with humanity.”

It's the only distraction right now from Trump being a baby rapist, he's such a narcissistic little bitch that he's jealous of the attention. Right when we have our bravest risking their lives in an historic mission they announce this bullshit. Fuck him.

My educated guess is that this is being done because:

Trump’s name wasn’t on the rocket and no one thought to thank him during the launch broadcast.

The crew did not thank and/or praise him at any point during their transmission.

Epstein files.

This was written in part of their budget months ago but is acting on it now because it took attention away from him.

Warnings: Language, swearing, another make your scene for the girllls that can’t keep their hands off their mans, Murdoc returns, y/n and 2D are loud when they fawk, a proposal of sorts?, blackmail, y/ns past comes to haunt her

A/n: DINGDOG THE WITCH IS DEADDDD(paula packs her shit and y/n gets to rub that new relationship in her face.

Ps. Sorry it took me so long to upload this you guys I was really trying to figure out if I wanted to end it at chapter 7 or write until Chapter 10/15! I’ve decided to pick it up again! :D

P.P.S: this chapter is pretty long so uhhh please excuse the typos!

Link to Part 7 here!

PART 9 OUT NOW!

Enjoy!~

Taglist: @wolflikesmp100 @washed-up-and-feeling-blue @bunbun007 @starfire21 @pop-tart0 @thegreatanvil @

Another morning wrapped in Stuart’s embrace.

Thanks to the cup of water from last night, your hangover was minimized, your headache most likely stemming from needing something to eat.

The sun doesn’t shine much past his curtains, just barely peeking from the bottom as he holds you against his chest. It’s rise and fall is soothing.

He’s thin, almost fragile under you, hell you think he’ll cave in if you keep your head against his sternum any longer.

Shifting, you pull him closer to you, your arms handing loosly over his shoulders as he stirs. Your mind moves a million miles a minutes, his voice from the night prior echos in your ears.

“Will you be my girlfriend? Officially?”

It makes you giddy, a smile creeping up your face and he gently squeezed you, making sure you hadn’t snuck off though the night.

“You awake love?” He asks, accent thick as you lift your head.

You nod, keeping your head close to his chest, the steady beat of his heart bringing you comfort. The silence is nice, but your head spins with questions and doubts.

You were due to leave any minute now, this trip having been extended far longer than you anticipated.

Your media team would be sure to send you back to New York especially with videos of last night floating around. Speaking of which, you wondered where Paula had gone off to...

Hell maybe?-

"What’s eatin' you?" He asks, shifting a bit to sit up against his elbows.

Damn he was awfully good at reading you-

"Nothing just...thinking. A lot happened within the last 24 hours." You explain, sitting up to look at him.

He looks well rested, eyes low with sleep still, but focused on you. His hair is messy, sticking up in places but perfect nonetheless.

Well at least to you.

"I...I have to leave soon, back to New York." You explain, averting your eyes from his.

He tenses, massaging your arm with his thumb, brows slgithly angled down.

"D-Do you wan' to leave?

"God no." You whisper, eyes squeezing shut.

If you could just stay a little longer, figure this out…this new relationship, the rest of this album? The concerts and tours? Do you work on an album of your own? An EP maybe?

"I just, don’t know what steps to take next. I wanna stay here with you and enjoy this, us. But I know I need to get back home...Theres a lot of decision to make and I'm not sure which is the right one." You explain, now sitting back against your thighs, his legs between yours.

His hands move to rest aginst your hips and he massages the flesh there, faded bruises from how tightly he gripped you the night before adorning the area.

He made a slight sound of approval.

"Y'know, I could always help if you wanted. We can talk over tea?" He offers, a snort leaving you in response.

"Fuck, you’re so british." You giggle, seeing him smile back, gaptoothed.

He captures your lips, the soft, affectionate kiss speeding your heart rate. Its quick to get heated, your bodies melting back together once again, skin to partial skin as you press your hips down onto him.

-12pm-

The morning melted away into afternoon quicker than you anticipated and Stuart was no help in trying to leave the bed and get ready for the day.

Anyway, you had somehow managed it and once you had, you volunteered to heat some water up while he get ready.

Easier said than done though, as you multitasked with the stove, your phone never once left your hand. Messages, emails, comments, tags, and damn near airdrops flooded your device as panic sits heavy in your chest.

17 missed phone calls from your label, management, and media team all trying to talk to you all at once. Threats of being sent back to New York as soon as 4 pm had arrisen and all you could do was sit, watch and sulk.

"Yes, I know.." You respond over the phone, watching the flames lick the bottom of the teapot.

"So what are we supposed to do Y/n?! We sent you out there to finish the fucking album, and get your ass back here.”

Whoever this new hire was, definitely wasn’t aware of how easily someone else could have his spot.

“You do realize you pissed away all your money after your dad died right?" Your throat clenched, grip tightening around the phone as the flames seem to grow bigger and bigger. The towel sitting atop the counter is soon consumed with fire. Smoke rises off the fabric, filling the air as the oxygen sinks.

Let it allll fucking burn

The sound of the guest room door closing snaps you out of the morbid daybream. Your eyes meet a familiar pair of craked sunglasses and cherry red lipstick.

She smirks at you, brow raised with the faint observation of the hickeys littered over your neck and jaw.

"Hm...he ask you t’ be his bird yet?" Paula asks, accent thick.

The phone call you were one had hardly been worth your attention, especially after that comment about your father.

"Sorry what?"

"His girlfriend?" She reitorates...damn british slang.

"O-Oh uh yeah. Last night actually..."

Paula nods, her bags slung over her shoulder.

"He'll treat you righ’. Like I said a bit daft, but he’s a sweetie." She explains, eyeing the towel by the stove, then gazing back to you.

"I’d move tha’ by the way."

And without anotherword, Paula left.

Your eyes flicker back to the stoves, and you move the towel away just enough to prevent an accident.

“Hello? Y/n? Hello?”

With eyes narrowed at the phone you take a deep breath, eyes fluttering shut.

“Watch how you speak you me. You have no right to chastise me for the way I chose to grieve.” You state sharply, feeling confidence bubble in your stomach.

“That ‘fucking album’ you want done so bad, is already finished. And….I don’t think I wanna go back to New York.”

Each sentence rolls off your tongue and is met with the beginning of the next.

“In fact, I miss being home, here in LA. So you can kiss my ass and I’ll let you know where to send my things.” You explain, tone low and warning.

The other line is silent for a moment, a sharp breath over the static.

“You can’t just-.”

“I can. Or would you rather I find someone else who can do your job to my liking?”

More silence.

Despite being a world sensation you sometimes forgot how much power you actually hold.

“No, no it’s…fine. Send an address no later than a month from now. We need to make sure you’re all set before hand.”

The call ends and the breath you had taken before finally released, the tension melting from your shoulders and chest.

With the scream of the teapot, you ready two mugs.

-1:47pm-

“I told them to send my stuff here when I requested.” You admit, toying with the handle of your mug.

Stuart sits across from you, cheek resting against his palm, a look of adoration behind while eyes.

They widen, his mouth falling agape for a moment, the gap in his smile showing for a moment as you take in his reaction.

“I-….I missed being home and I like staying here with you. I WON’T MOVE IN! T-That’s too much but um…I’ll find somewhere here.” You explained, eyes squeezed shut, unsure of your decision.

Was it impulsive? Yes. Was it smart? Probably not. You were short on funds and were really running on the hope that this album would do well enough for you to get yourself some extra cash.

And if things didn’t turn out well then what? What if this was supposed to be a temporary relationship with D?

I mean it was a possibility you’d grow apart and this whole boyfriend-girlfriend thing would have been a waste but….

Being with him didn’t feel that way.

“The album drops in 3 days and then we plan for a tour? You sure this is what you wan?” 2D asks, brows slightly furrows, his free hand coming to rest atop your own.

Before you can respond the from door swings open revealing a very disheveled and irritated Murdoc.

He had part of the clothes he wore the night before, the shirt unbuttoned and torn in places, the left leg of his pants seemed to be in unraveling at the seams and his belt was unbuckled, dragging on the floor.

His eyes were bloodshot, like he either hadn’t slept or was high out of his fucking mind.

Knowing him it was probably both.

Neither of you speak, tension thick in the sort as he drags his shoes across the floor. Finally realizing you were sitting there his neck snaps in your directions, your eyes growing wide as his own twitch.

“You.” He spits, the acknowledgment dripping with venom.

You can see 2D shift, moving as if to ready himself to stand from his seat to defend you.

“SI’ ‘OWN!” He hollders, pointing an accusatory, crooked finger in the blueettes direction.

“Since we’re down a guitarist, you’re filling in. Congratulations you’re a certified er, groupie? Nah nah, thas' no’ righ’?” He grunts, soon waving his hand to dismiss the thought.

“Hope you wasn’t plannin’ on leavin cause we start touring in 4 weeks.”

“What?! 4 weeks is insane Murdoc you can’t just-”

“Or would you rather I leak this?” He scoffs, raising his cracked to all hell phone revealing the photos of-

“You son of a bitch..." You seethe, loooking from he pictures, then to him, them the pictures again....

Fuck this was no good. If he had those and is using them as blackmail then he definitely knows about your-

"And uh, I go' in touch with your team sweetheart an', sounds like you're already on thin ice." He grumbles, pocketing the device before leaning agsidnt the wall to prop himself up...

You main question as wha the fuck happened to him he looked terrible.

“What’s your angle here?” You question, eyeing him as Stu stands up, approaching you in some sort of support.

Your eyes never leave Murdoc’s but you can feel 2D curl his hand around your hip.

“Ah see now I don’t thin’ tha’ concerns you now do it?” Murdoc chuckles, looking between you and Stuart.

“You just be on your best behaviour an’ uhhh we’ll see how I feel about letting you roam free eh?”

He chortles, limping his way to the strains as you stand with clenched fists.

“FUCK!”

It’s raw, and angry, and the harder you say it the more is simmering into a defeated whimper.

“One thing, just one thing go right! Just one!” You beg, eyes burning as you blink back salty tears.

“What’s he got’ on you?” Stu asks, comforting you with the faint stroke of his thumb against your exposed flesh.

You couldn’t tell him…it’s embarsssing enough your team was about to drop your ass but now blackmail photos? How do you explain that to Stu???

“I…don’t worry. I’ll just do everything I can on tour. Besides you’ve got bigger things to worry about, you’re the lead.” You hum, turning to face the blue-ette.

He rests his chin against your shoulder, your own forehead resting against his opposite shoulder.

‘Best behavior’

It rings loud and clear in your skull…and it was surely in your best interest to follow through with that.

————————————

4 weeks had come and gone by faster than you could process, your body filled with anxiety at the thought of what Murdoc could do to your career. But, each night you found yourself filled with worry, Stu was there with open arms, and a mouth that could cure all your ailments.

Rehearsals for the concert had been grueling. Murdoc insisting you, and only you wake at impossible hours to practice. And despite wanting to say no, all he had to do was grin ever so wickedly and flash that fucking cell phone.

Even outside of practice he made it a point to make your current life...hell.

As of now, you helped prepare for travel.

With a heavy sigh, you load speakers and instruments into the trailer, you hair pulled back and off your neck as the coastal heat fills the outdoors, your skin darkening with each hour.

“Everything okay?” 2D asks, massaging circles over your hips, then your shoulders, sealing the action with a kiss to your pulse.

You melt with a smile, nodding.

“Just the last do the equipment and we can hit the road for our first stop.” You explain, looking at everything tucked safely in the back.

You'd all be riding int railers together. Somehoe Murdco managed to hire a couple drivers for each one and simply instructed you to pack your shit for a road trip round the country. At some point your be flown one to London and tour the UK but that wasn't anywhere in the near future.

You sigh again, popping your back, side eyeing Murdoc when he swankered past you, that evil, evil grin ever present over his features.

"Alrigh'! Noodle and Russ are all squared away. You teo packed up. Im quite alright myself, and were ready t' go." He hums, flipping the cap off a worn silver flask hed been carrying.

This was going to prove to be a long trip. Especially when Murdoc decided he wants to introduce someone new.

Everyone had gathered aroudn the trailers, one last group chat before departure. Stu had been glued to your side since the initial conversation with Murdoc and since you didn't really want any extra drama you opted to keep Noodle out of it. She had already helped you with Paula partially and the last thingyou wanted was for her to think that you'd bring more issues the longer you lingered.

The morning air was nice and crisp, perfect to start the drive now....until Murdoc ushered in a brow haired, hazel eyes traitor you'd never thought you'd have the displeasure of seeing again.

Your heart stills in your chest, stomach churning. And damn it can he see that fear and disgust in your eyes. Your mind races and your chest heaves with panicked breathes.

You grip 2D's hand, his expression moving from interest to immediate concern. Murdoc only grins.

"Alrigh! This is Aiden. Y/n, you two are familiar right?" He asks.

Your voice dies in your throat, eyes welling with tears. Why would he do this?? Was it JUST to make you feel worse? What was the goal?! It was making sense where he got those fucking photos from now. It made sense why he looked the way he did when he got back.

Aiden didn't do business without a price. Something happened that night...and now you were going to suffer for it. Your stomach turns, his eyes sharp and calculated. He's picking you apart, dissecting the very fibre of your being. His hands are shoved in his pockets as he flashes a half smile....a knowing one.

"Oh yeah. Been a while, hasn't it sweetpea?"

A/N: WHOAAAAAAA WHO THE FUCK IS THIS NEW GUY AND WHAT IS MURDOCS DEAL?! Guys I'm picking this story back up don't worry. i have a lot of ideas for the way I want it to end and a lot of angst prepared in the meantimeeeee! Sorry this chapter was so short you guys:(

Thank you all for he love and support onthis work! I will most likely make a masterlist for it once its all said and done. Peace love and happiness yall!

a&m publicity for the phil ochs single "power and glory" b/w "here's to the state of richard nixon," 1974

phil explained his plan for the single in a march 22nd, 1974 interview with the ann arbor sun: