#i wasn’t I was so anti tour I just didn’t think it was something we would ever get again

[blossoms-phan]

guys remember the phagenda

[ilovejoostklein]

HAIII, sorry if this is confusing, but can i request joost with a reader who is like... a TERRIBLE social reject but also makes music... they dread doing concerts, releasing full albums, and interviews but they still do it for their career?...

hii, yes ofc <3

-

Bed Peace

You’re an anxious singer and your boyfriend Joost comforts you the morning of one of your shows

sfw: fluff, light angst

-

You lay tangled in the bed of your hotel room with Joost. You grimaced at the empty bottles and shot glasses littering the coffee table, the headache from your hangover squeezing your head and pinching the back of your eyes making you more miserable than you felt last night. Your body was destroyed with fatigue and from the two-hour concert you’d had last night, ears still aching from the sounds of the music and screaming fans. You dreaded the fact of knowing what the day held in store for you today. 

It was only moments like these that brought you true happiness, your boyfriend sleeping peacefully behind you with his strong arms around your waist. He was always so calm. He was like a pond, still and beautiful, nothing ever disrupting his mood that always seemed to be cheerful, and if he wasn’t it was still always so contained and rational. You didn’t know what to compare yourself to, a riptide, a never-ending storm that could only be lulled into security with substances and the presence of your sweet boyfriend who put up with your worries. 

Joost woke up when he felt your heartbeat against his hands. It was certainly a strange way to wake up, and incredibly alarming to see that you were already so distraught first thing in the morning. It was crushing to see you this way, he tried whatever he could and still, he felt like a failure. Since you’d been together you’d turned him into a better person, he felt the difference every day when life had slowed down and everything felt and appeared more beautiful. He wished that he could do that for you, but he was beginning to realize that the issue was far bigger than you both. 

“You’re always up before me.” His voice was still groggy with sleep, pressing a kiss to your bare shoulder. ��We overdid it last night, hm?”

You didn’t respond, staring at the empty bottles under the exposing morning night you couldn’t help but feel a bit ashamed. You felt Joost kiss your cheek, putting his fingers underneath your chin so that you’d face him. 

“I think you have to get up soon.” He dreaded saying it as much as you did. “Big day today.”

You groaned, rolling over so that you’d be able to bury your face into his chest. You breathed him in, he still smelled faintly of the body wash he always traveled with which somehow calmed your nerves. 

“I wish I could cancel the stupid fucking interview.” Your profanity made him chuckle, bringing you closer into his arms. “Do you think I can?”

“For the second time?” Joost asked, his voice gently suggesting you to be more rational. “It’s short, and you’ll do a good job like always.”

Even if you were media trained to the point you felt like a circus animal, you abhorred nothing more than doing pointless interviews and touring. You tried to avoid falling into more dangerous substances, facing it all head-on, and by the end, you were dizzy and overcome with anxiety. You’d always been so anti-social, it was a miracle that you had someone like Joost who was effortlessly charming and sociable. You wished that you could take some of it for yourself. 

“I hate it.” You mumbled, glancing at the clock on the wall realizing that you didn’t have too much time. 

“I know, baby.” He said, kissing you. “But you love to sing, and I love it too, so it’ll be worth it.”

“It’s easy for you.” You retorted. “You know I just want to sing and do nothing else.”

“It doesn’t work like that.” You frowned hearing his tone shift into something more serious, forcing him to be the voice of reason. “Your career isn’t like mine.”

He was right. Your career was much more serious than his. It wasn’t that Joost was careless, but he could be himself and have fun with his career while you couldn’t. You wished it was the same way for you, even knowing you couldn’t be half as charming if you tried.

You wanted to stay with Joost in bed all day. You held him closer, expecting him to pressure you to get up again, but you felt him give into you when he pulled you atop his chest. His arms wrapped around your waist, and you two stayed embracing each other in silence for a while. 

You hoped that Joost would fall asleep, giving you an excuse to do the same and blame him when you’d inevitably wake up and realize you’d missed the interview. You propped yourself up only to make direct eye contact. Your face flushed with anxiety, forcing yourself to smile to try to dull the intensity you felt. 

“How badly do you not want to go?” Joost suddenly asked the blush on your cheeks now feeling unbearable. 

You stifled the tears forming in your eyes. Joost cared about you so much, no matter how stubborn and self-deprecating you could be he was always so gentle. You felt his hands cup your face, his thumb smoothing down on your cheek tenderly. 

“I don’t want to.” You mumbled. “I just want to stay here with you, before my show.”

“Ok then, liefde.” He whispered, bringing your head forward to kiss your nose. “Oh no.” He said in a concerned tone.

“What is it?” You asked, feeling your heart rate pick up. Your anxiety was always set off so easily. “Joost.” You pressed.

“You feel really warm.” You realized he was being sarcastic, feeling a smile form on your face. “I think I have to call your manager m’en meisje is getting sick.”

You watched in relief as he grabbed his phone from your shared nightstand and sent a text to your manager, turning his phone to show their quick response. You could feel their annoyance through the message, but you couldn’t be bothered to care. The relief felt almost invigorating, your anxieties and worries melting away all at once knowing that you could spend the rest of the afternoon in bed with your boyfriend. 

“I love you, Joost.” You said sweetly, kissing him over and over again on his cheek. “You’re the best, I’m serious.”

“I’m just selfish.” He chuckled, kissing you back, “I want to keep you with me all the time.”

“I wish.” You said a bit solemnly, knowing that the time would quickly pass as it always did when you were happy. “I’m glad you’ll be at my show at least.”

“I’m your biggest fan.” He pinched your cheek lovingly. 

You settled into your boyfriend’s arms, the safety and unconditional love soothing your heart completely. You wished that you could love your career, not just the act of singing. You wished you could grow to love the process of waking up before the sun to write and record songs for hours every day until your entire body ached with boredom. You didn’t know what you would do without Joost, he was your person in all of this. 

“I really love you, Joost.” You mumbled, feeling both of you slowly getting taken away by sleep again. “I’m so lucky.”

“I love you more.” You could hear him getting more tired, it was cute. “And I’m luckier.”

“You’re falling asleep again?” You whispered, trying to keep the calmness of the room. 

“Mhm.” He hummed, his eyes still shut. “You should rest too, you’re sick remember?”

-

ya’ll i hope i’m using these dutch words right… hope u enjoyed

[bangtanhoneys]

The Grammy Awards - Grace Chu

Note: this is a bit long. Over 5k words which is the longest thing I’ve ever written. I wanted something different and while I still think the Grammy’s did BTS dirty, I wanted my girl to have some love. I don’t expect everyone to agree to it but it is fanfic after all.

Part 2 l Part 3

When Grace had created her first solo album that wasn’t a mixtape, she had no plans to submit anything to the Grammys. The history between the Grammy’s and BTS had left a bad taste in her mouth - they were used as eye candy for performances, to bring in the audience and leave them till the last minute, even with five nominations and no wins. So when she was asked if she wanted to put the ‘In My Head’ album in for any categories, she shut the idea down. 

Really, she should have realised that Bang PD would have just done it anyway.

The first she heard about it was when Chaelin, CL from 2NE1, had sent her a text of congratulations followed by IU. Then her parents called her to say congratulations and there was a flurry of messages in the BTS group chat. 

Of course, she thought they were all off their heads because there was no way in hell that she was nominated for a Grammy, let alone three. But when she went on the website, sure enough, under her name were the following categories:

7 Rings - Record of the Year

In My Head - Album of the Year

7 Rings - Best Pop Solo Performance. 

It left her feeling very conflicted. 

While she was proud of herself and the team behind the song as well as the album, she remembered the disappointment on the rest of the boy’s faces when they received no nominations for their solo music and the bigger disappointment when they didn’t win as a group, sitting there in the audience with cameras in their faces and once again, no win. 

She didn’t want the award for the very reason that she didn’t want to go all the way out there, to dress up, to sit there and then nothing. Feeling nothing but pure disappointment.

So, she kept silent and kept on preparing herself for the tour that would be happening in a few months after the November nomination announcement. Everyone was excited, including the boys, yet she felt absolutely blank about the whole thing. In her head, it was just another ploy to get the BTS name attached to the Grammys.

A week later, after the nominations were released, she got called into a meeting with everyone including Bang PD, their choreographing team, the CEO and PR and some others that she didn't know. Grace sat down next to Sejin, wondering why most of the important people in Big Hit had been called to the table. 

“Okay as everyone is aware, Hea has been nominated for three Grammy awards. They’ve been in touch and asked if Hea would be interested in either opening up the Grammy’s with a song or if there would be a medley performance at some point,” the CEO explained. “We’ve already got an idea but wanted to hear what everyone’s thoughts were before we went forward and if Hea wanted to go through with this as well.”

Grace glanced towards Sejin out of the corner of her eye. He knew her better than most and he knew the thoughts of the boys as well. They were proud of her and this would be a big thing for not only her, but for the boys, Big Hit and Korea as a whole. If she won, she would be the first K-Pop Korean and the first Korean female. If she didn’t win, she would still be highly regarded because of the nomination. 

Though she knew full well that some antis would see this as an opportunity to bash and slander. 

Sejin knew her thoughts about the Grammy’s and he returned her look, giving her a slight nod. If he thought she should go, then off she went. 

“I want to get the boy's opinion first,” Grace started. “But if everyone thinks I should go and this is going to be a good thing, rather than a disappointment, then I’ll go. And I suppose, depending on the time limit, it’s going to be one song rather than a medley?”

The CEO nodded, nodding towards Bang PD. “We’re thinking of at least 3 or 4, depending on the time slot. Plus this could be a good test for the tour as well if we use songs from the Dangerous Woman mix tape and then you’ve got some other songs as well you want to release? If not, then we would just stick to 7 Rings.”

“Not until January but the Grammy’s are in February, so that would tie in with that mixtape’s release,” Grace agreed. 

“Okay, well let’s see what we can put together and I will check what time limit we have so we can work towards that. We don’t want to put more pressure on the team for dancing so we’ll work with you on that and maybe work with InTheLab in LA,” the CEO glanced towards the team of choreographers who nodded in agreement. “And once we have confirmation on everything, we can discuss outfits and the like. Would you be going with Seokjin-ssi?”

That made Grace pause. He was out of military service now and was free to take, even with his own schedule and music going on. Hobi was free as well. So she could take the two free members of BTS but there was also the option of her parents as well? It would be an honour for them, especially her father.

“I will double check but I think I would want to take my father. I know he’s not one for the public eye but if I won, I’d want him to see that in person rather than on TV. If I don’t win, well it’s an experience.”

With plans in motion, Grace left the meeting still feeling conflicted.

‘GRAMMY’s want me to perform. What do you think?’ she fired off a message to the group chat, as she turned down the hallway and headed to Hobi’s studio. 

There would be no response from four of them until that evening so she wasn’t expecting anything. Of course, her boyfriend was the first one to reply.

‘Do it and kick their ass.’

Yoongi then replied: ‘Agreed. Our turn will come but I want you to win without us.’

Grace sighed and slipped into Hobi’s studio, finding him already mixing a mock up of her songs. 

“I haven’t actually agreed yet,” Grace laughed as she took a seat on the couch.

“I know you feel conflicted,” Hobi said as he turned down the volume on the speaker as Dangerous Woman played in the background with a bit more bass to it, spinning his chair around to face Grace. “I feel conflicted for you. I would be proud as a Korean if you won because you’d be the first one to win. It would be like watching Jungkookie at the World Cup - he’s still BTS but it’s a major thing. Like Yoongi-hyung’s tour, that was for him but he was still BTS.”

“I know but the Grammys have fucked us around,” Grace frowned. “Nominate us, tease the audience about us or our performance or whether we’ve won and leave it till the last minute and then not give it to us though they’ve been hinting we’re going to win. They’ve used us for views and we’ve had nothing in return.”

Hobi sighed and nodded, reaching out to pat Grace’s knee. “Yes, that’s true. But why not go and show them what BTS’ female member can do? I know you don’t care about the awards and the nominations you’ve received for your hard work but go and do this one. Go and show them what they're missing.”

The four other members sent similar messages, though Namjoon added: ‘Make me proud as a leader and a brother. Whether you win or not, the fact you’ve been nominated for three awards and you’ve been asked to perform is amazing. So go and do it.’

Seokjin didn’t exactly decline the invitation to go but rather wanted the focus to be on her. With that, she somehow managed to get her parents to agree to go though her father was uncomfortable with the idea.

“Do we have to go on the red carpet?” he asked over dinner the following night.

“No. You can be taken straight to the seats inside, bypassing all the photos and the faff. There will be cameras and they might film your reactions but other than that, no you don’t have to do the whole thing,” Grace confirmed as she took her plate of homemade spaghetti bolognese that her mother made.

Her father was silent as he dipped the garlic bread into the sauce. Grace could see the cogs turning in his head just as they had in hers when she heard the news. It would bring great honour to the family name yet did he want to risk his anonymity? His wife, Grace’s mother, was already a fan favourite having been seen in various Big Hit videos. 

“It would be my honour then to go.”

So began the practice for the Grammy’s alongside final dance practice for the tour. 

The team had agreed on one song, the one with the nomination, rather than a medley since she had only been given five minutes to perform as the first performance of the night. Her categories would then follow afterwards. Alexander McQueen’s fashion team had sent a blazer dress in her size for her to perform in though the stylist team at Big Hit had to add some shorts so the dress didn’t show everything when she bent over. 

She also had a dress from Elie Saab, the designer reaching out with the perfect dress he said would be fitting for her first solo project. 

Her parents had flown out a week beforehand to enjoy America as tourists and to avoid the chaos at Incheon which had predicted record high numbers of press and fans for Grace’s flight out. And the prediction had been correct. 

She could hear the noise from the car as her managers sorted out passports and boarding passes, bodyguards in position to form the Queen’s Guard to battle through the chaos that was awaiting them inside. 

“You ready?” Sejin asked, handing over a mask and sunglasses. 

“Never,” Grace sighed with a slight smile as she slipped the sunglasses on and adjusted the mask to cover her mouth. 

The moment she stepped out, the noise grew even louder. She paused before the doors, letting the press outside get the photos they needed before entering the airport, the bodyguards tight around her as they moved through the sounds of cheers, screams and the sound of camera flashes going off. She was more than thankful for the sunglasses that protected her eyes against the blindness of lights. 

 It was difficult. They were trying to rush against the barriers put up in place for everyone’s protection and out of the corner of her eye, she could see a few cameras get knocked down for being too close and some people getting shoved away as they had escaped over or underneath the barrier. 

But she kept pushing on, Sejin’s hand tight on her shoulder as they finally got out of the crowd and to the lounge where they could wait for their flight to be called. Security was outside the doors and inside the doors, only letting those in who had passes or were part of the Big Hit team. 

“It gets worse every time,” a bodyguard muttered as they accepted the passports and boarding passes, handing them over to the managers. 

“They need tighter controls at the airport,” another agreed. 

For Grace, she just wanted to get to Los Angeles and get to the hotel, get the awards over with (which would be held at the same stadium she had rented out for her own tour) and come home. She was thankful her parents would be joining her but she kept waiting for the phone call to say there had been an honest mistake and could they cancel. 

The call never came. 

Not while they were getting on the plane, not while they were in the air, not while they got to LAX and not while they got to the hotel. If anything, her appearance in California had heightened the news around the Grammys. 

“We have reports that Grace Chu, the female member of BTS, just landed in Los Angeles over an hour ago and was taken straight to the hotel. Her performance is one of the most highly anticipated performances of the night, as this will be her first solo performance at the Grammys without the rest of BTS,” a reporter said with the Hollywood sign in the backdrop as a ‘live’ report. “Big Hit has been quiet in terms of the performance, outfits and whether anyone else from BTS will be attending given that five members are still in their military service.”

Sejin clicked over the channel to something else as Grace opened up her suitcase in the bedroom, smoothing out her clothes before putting them in the wardrobe. Her designer clothes for the carpet and performance had been put in her room before her arrival. 

“Every news channel is about the Grammys,” Sejin sighed as he finally got to the local news that wasn’t reporting about the upcoming award show that was two days away.

“It’s the main event of any singer’s career,” Grace said as she poked her head around the doorway. “I suppose it’s like their version of a Daesang.”

“At least BTS are awarded properly for a Daesang.”

“Only sometimes,” Grace called out. 

The next day the team planned a schedule to head to the Crypto.com stadium which felt surreal as she would be on the stage in only a month’s time. She would start her American leg of the tour here for two nights then fly to Chicago and to see it laid out for the Grammys was a bit odd. She had seen the renderings and designs for her stage at the stadium so to see large tables with black tablecloths and fancy flower vases, gold chairs and screens being set up was just…strange. 

It would seat over 20,000 just for her. 

They did a full rehearsal of her song and then another one to tidy up some moves, and to allow the TV camera to do its blocking. The usual Bangtan Bomb camera followed the team around from the hotel to the stadium, to the changing room and out again. 

When the day came, Grace stared up at the ceiling from her bed. 

While she wasn’t overly bothered about the whole thing, that didn’t stop the nerves from settling in. She pressed a hand to her stomach to stop the slight wave of nausea and she let out a deep breath, closing her eyes and letting out another breath. She wasn’t sure if she was nervous because of the performance, the awards herself or the fact this was going to be a big step in her solo journey. Maybe it was pure nerves because this was something completely out of her hands and that she couldn’t control. 

She let out a slight huff of annoyance and rolled out of bed, pausing to open the blinds to see L.A in its morning glory. It was already busy and Grace flicked on the TV to see what the latest reports were - the red carpet was down, reporters were already in position and celebrities were already Instagramming their breakfasts’.

“Right,” Grace paused and rubbed her face. “Shower, skin routine, hair routine and food. And then the Grammys.”

The hot water soothed out any tight muscles from stress and she washed her wavy blonde hair (recently dyed for her tour), combing through the oil she used to keep it looking fresh. Face and body cream applied, she wrapped her robe around her body and made her way out of her room.

Her parents were already there, sitting on the couch in front of the TV as they ate breakfast. They looked completely chill even with the day ahead. 

“Good morning,” her mother greeted as she glanced over from the news report. “There’s buffet breakfast in the dining area if you’re feeling up to it?”

Her father placed his half-finished plate down on the coffee table and stood, giving his daughter’s shoulder a quick squeeze. “Fruit and tea would be best to start with. I bet you're feeling a little nervous?”

Grace smiled, nodding as she leaned on her Dad for a moment. “You always know and fruit and tea would be amazing, thank you.”

She joined her mother on the couch and tucked up against her side, stealing a piece of toast that she was munching on when her Dad came back with a bowl of fruit containing: grapes, pineapple, strawberries, blueberries, kiwi, watermelon and honeydew melon and her usual cup of tea, already with her two sugars and milk. 

The Chu family quietly watched TV as they ate their breakfast, every now and then mentioning something in regards to what was happening on the screen. There were no words to be said between the three of them while time ticked away and a knock on the door came from Sejin, poking his head around the doorway. 

He smiled slightly, bowing to her parents and then turned his attention to Grace.

“The stylists and makeup team are here to get you ready. Also, you have a surprise visitor.”

Eyebrows raised, Grace finished off her tea and went to put the dishes along with the others in the dining room but her father beat her to it and shooed her away. “Go, I’ll handle this.” 

While some thought of her father as cool, hard to read and not very affectionate - he was very much like Yoongi. Tsundere - cool on the outside, fuzzy on the inside. Very much a strict Korean father when in public and with strangers, but an absolute chaotic fool when around other family, friends and the boys. 

Slightly apprehensive as to what could be waiting for her, there was instant relief when the doors opened to the other bedroom of the suit and Bang PD stood there with the Big Hit Team. She could see it on his face: as if he was going to miss this and let her do it on her own. 

“Thank god,” she muttered as she wandered over and instantly met his hug with one of her own. He had spearheaded her solo career since Dangerous Woman and it only felt right to have him with her, even if he wasn’t going to be on the red carpet. At least he would be with her and her parents during the actual award ceremony.

“You know I couldn’t miss this,” he grinned then gave her a pat on the head. “Go on, go and get ready. I’ll go and see your parents and give them a bit of a run down.”

The make up team kept the glam to a minimum but it still took over two hours to do. Her brown eyes were highlighted with bronze eyeshadow, the liner black but thin and her natural eyelashes fluffed out. While she sat there, letting them do her contour and styling her hair into a half-up, half-down ponytail; she started her vocal warmup by singing Don’t Blame Me, using the mix they would be producing for the tour. 

They carefully slipped the Elie Saab designer dress over her figure, slipping on the pair of Louboutins that had been gifted to her by the designer. A pair of earrings from the boys and a bracelet from Seokjin and she was set to go. 

Big Hit took a few photos of her before the event, one with Bang PD, one with Sejin, the other with her parents and then a couple of her on her own. They wouldn’t be uploaded until she was just about to walk onto the red carpet though the photo with her parents had been sent to the boys. 

Various messages came in as they had been given leave by the military for this occasion, heading to Seokjin’s apartment for a private viewing party with a few close friends and plenty of alcohol. She didn’t read any of the messages, too nervous and unsettled to do anything other than to slip her hand into her father’s. 

Conversations in the car went over her head and she paid little attention, only nodding here and there as her parents, Sejin and Bang PD talked about how the evening would go, where they would be sitting, and what celebrities would be attending. The crowd lining the streets was noisy and huge, though completely used to seeing the many celebrities getting out of their cars. 

Her car stopped and her parents got out first with Bang PD, a member of staff leading them to the entrance straight away to avoid any press or attention though Grace could see a couple of celebrities say hello to her boss. 

“You ready?” Sejin asked, pausing at the door. 

Letting out a deep breath, she counted briefly to five then got out. 

The noise was instant. Reporters paused in their sentence, wondering what was going on and turning to see who had arrived to cause the disturbance. Even a few celebrities paused and turned. 

“Everybody, Grace Chu from BTS has arrived,” Liam McEwan turned to the camera with an excited look on his face. “The queen is here.”

There were so many people clambering for her attention as she posed for photos, smiling at the hundreds of cameras as they yelled her name. The beads and embroidery sparkled on her dress, her fingers fiddling with the belt then the dip which to her was a bit dangerously low but the reporters obviously loved. 

The PR lady moved her along towards an excited looking Liam, who Grace grinned at and opened up her arms. “Liam! It’s been too long since we’ve seen you. How are you?” Fans would later comment on how typical it was of Grace and BTS to remember reporters who had been kind to them. 

The two exchanged a hug, a few questions about the boys, her performance and how he couldn’t wait to see it. Grace left him to carry on down the carpet with him gushing over how lovely she was, which made seven men raise their glasses in cheers.

“Seee! Told you she could do it,” Yoongi said as he raised his glass of whiskey, not at all a bit tipsy as Jungkook reached over and filled it up for him. 

“She hasn’t even gotten inside yet hyung,” Jimin laughed, already opening another bottle of champagne as if Grace had already won her three awards and had been crowned Queen of Korea. 

Seokjin and Namjoon as well as Hobi, the only three who had been determined not to drink until the end, slowly sipped on their iced coffee and laughed as they watched an excited maknae open Taehyung’s bottle of wine for him. 

“But she’s won everyone over! I mean, that dress is amazing on her,” Taehyung said as he stood, pushing over Jimin who spilled himself into Hobi’s lap. Obviously, a career in the military had done nothing to dampen their enthusiasm. 

Taehyung stood next to the large TV screen, pointing at various parts of her dress. “I mean, it’s pretty low. I wonder who signed that off but either way, she looks amazing. And look! Cleavage! No one has seen noona with cleavage yet.”

Yoongi groaned, covering his eyes. “Don’t mention Grace and cleavage in the same sentence. I’m not drunk enough yet.”

It took forever to get Grace inside the stadium as she bumped into several celebrities she knew and said hello to a few more, stopping herself from doing the traditional Korean greeting of bowing. She finally sat down next to her father who handed her a glass of water.

She was about to thank her father when Sejin and a member of the Grammy’s staff came over, to tell her that they would be coming to get her in half an hour so she could do her performance which would be the first one after the first award. 

Hearing that made the nerves return and she gulped down the glass of water, letting out a deep breath. “Don’t be nervous Hea, you’re born for this and you’ve got so much experience in performing in front of a large crowd. You’ve got a bigger crowd than this next month,” her father patted her hand then turned to talk to her mother as if it was nothing.

“Thanks Dad,” she laughed but took the moment to calm herself, to watch everyone start making their way to their seats and for all the audience to get settled in the stands. So many cameras were pointing at the stage, pointing at the audience, pointing at the celebrities, pointing at an overview of the entire award ceremony.

As promised, she was whisked away to get changed in her performance outfit that had been created by Alexander McQueen’s team and adapted by the Big Hit team. The jewellery and the heels remained, as she slipped in her in-ears and took hold of her microphone. 

The dancers, made up of the team of her tour dancers, were in their costumes and ready. They looked as nervous as she did and were doing mini-choreographies in the hallway, making sure they hadn’t forgotten anything. 

“Okay, Grammy’s here we go,” Grace said when they crowded in a circle behind the award stage itself. “Remember, have fun, don’t worry and let’s go make history. BANG,” she finished and the dancers lifted their hands as they shouted, “TAN!”

“Ladies and gentlemen, please give a warm welcome to 5-time Grammy nominated member of BTS, Grace Chu,” the loud announcement came and she could hear the applause and then cheers as the curtain lifted.

On stage was a small orchestra, dressed in dinner suits and black dresses as they played the opening of the Sound of Music’s ‘Favourite Things.’ Though her in-ears were up on the highest, the crowd was still loud. She stood there in the middle, with the lights around her blacked out so no one could see. Her fingers gripped around her microphone then relaxed, as her track came in. 

Each light came on to show her standing there, in her blazer dress that was very short but presentable. Grace Chu - solo artist but a member of Bangtan Sonyeondan. By the time she got to the short rap part, the nerves and worries had gone away.

“When you see them racks, they stacked up like my ass yeah,” she sang/rapped, turning her body a little to the camera to show her hand grabbing a chunk of her backside to match the lyrics. She then fully turned to the camera, the dancers in formation on either side of her as she continued the verse, not knowing that thousands of miles away in Korea she would be causing a storm. 

The song faded out to the cheers and Grace watched as the audience stood, clapping and cheering for her. It took her moment to catch her breath at the view and in gratitude, she did a full bow as the cameras turned away for the next award to be presented. 

Out of breath and on a high, she turned back to the dressing rooms to find Bang PD waiting for her. “Amazing! That’s how you do it! That’s how you show them who's boss,” he yelled as he grabbed her, giving her a good squeeze that lifted her off the ground and then back down again. He was still yelling as they walked into the dressing room. 

Her parents were just as excited as she returned to her seat, more relaxed now the stressful part was over. “Well done,” her father patted her on the back and handed her a new glass of water as her mother passed a napkin to help dab away some sweat she had missed. 

The evening was long and the awards took forever. 

She didn’t win Best Pop Solo Performance so that kind of settled her for the night. If she didn’t win any awards, it didn’t matter as she killed her performance and made herself proud, made her boss proud, made her parents proud and no doubt made the boys and ARMY proud. 

“The nominees for Record of the Year are,” that sentence interrupted the conversation she was having and her mother nudged her to pay attention. 

“There’s no way I’ve won,” Grace muttered but had to smile when the camera came on her when her name had been announced as a nominee, causing the ARMY in the crowd to scream. 

She almost missed it. 

“And the winner is,” There was a giant pause and Grace turned to her mother, about to say ‘see told you’ when “7 Rings - Grace Chu.”

“What?” she said instead, turning towards the stage with a shocked expression as her mother pretty much squealed as she jumped up in the air, followed by Bang PD and then the boys at home. 

“Me?” she laughingly asked and she realised what was happening when her song was being played in the background. 

“No way,” she muttered to herself as she stood, her father helping her as she made her way to the stage where her award was waiting for her. She bowed towards the presenter, to the girl who brought the award on and stood in front of the microphone.

“I nearly missed the winner being announced by not believing I would win this,” Grace said as she stared at the award and then at the crowd in front of her. “So many people to thank and I didn’t bother to write a list. To Bang PD, to PDogg, to the team at Big Hit & HYBE and to everyone who believed in me when I started this solo career. Thank you for being a big support to me and thank you to BTS, my boys back at home who pushed me to make this song. And finally to ARMY,” she paused and glanced down at the award again. “Gamsahabnida,” she thanked in Korean. 

The crowd was loud as she was ushered off stage and Sejin was there to greet her, tears going down his cheeks. She realised then and only then, she had made history not only for her, for the company, for the boys, but for the future.

“Oh my god,” she laughed as she handed over the award to get engraved. 

By the time she had sat down with her award, they were announcing the last award for the night. She didn’t have time to fully process what was going on when Chris Martin walked on stage with a little Grammy award in his hand. 

He gave her a little smile before turning to the camera. 

“And the nominees for Album of the Year are.”

There were the expected cheers for each nominee, her nomination got the most cheers which caused Chris to laugh. He opened the envelope, paused and looked up. “The winner for Album of the Year,” he turned his attention straight to Grace. “In My Head by Grace Chu, produced by Bang PD & PDogg from Big Hit Entertainment. Congratulations.”

The noise was deafening as Grace covered her face with her hands, taking a moment to try her hardest not to cry. She felt hands on her shoulders and her wrists, she heard a lot of cheering as she finally looked up and met the proud yet teary eyes of her father. Everything she had ever wanted was to make him proud. And she had done it. 

She stood with Bang PD, who wiped his own eyes and she took hold of his hand as the two of them made it towards the stage. Chris Martin bowed towards her which made her smile and bow in return, the two exchanging Korean greetings before they finally hugged.

“Jin will be so proud,” he muttered into her ear and stood back to hand over the Grammy towards her, then moved to greet Bang PD. 

“Never,” Grace started then felt her throat close up as she held back her emotions once again. “Never did I imagine that I would be standing on this stage again, to accept the Grammy for Album of the Year and not have my boys with me. It’s bittersweet, I won’t lie but this award is not only for me and Bang PD and Big Hit but it’s for them and for every single person who worked on this album with me. To my parents, thank you for always supporting and loving me. To my boys, I’ll see you soon and to ARMY and my man, I love you both immensely.”

She bowed deeply to the crowd as they stood and applauded, letting her have a moment before she handed the award to Bang PD and stepped to the side to let him have his speech. 

Grace felt Chris’s hand on her shoulder which he gave a squeeze, grounding her in place as they all walked backstage to find her parents and the team there to greet her. It was then and only then, could finally break down in the arms of her parents. 

Sejin had the boys on the phone, putting it on speakerphone as they screamed their congratulations across the line. She couldn’t get her words out as her father hugged her, holding her tight to his chest as all the worry, the nerves, the anticipation and the disappointment flooded out of her all at once. 

She could go back home to Korea, to Jin, as a twice Grammy-awarded artist. And they could all be proud of Korea’s Noona.  

[wooahaeruby]

Chapter 11: Three's A Crowd

Chapter Word Count: 4,676

Anything in Bold Italics are Korean/Another language.

Master List | Prev | Next

Was he scolded for his reckless actions? Yeah. All three of his managers, the PR team, and the VP of Pledis had jumped down his throat on the first day after the incident. 

Seungcheol had been beside him the entire time, rebutting each and every argument they had about their idol image, their safety, and most importantly, you. Jihoon didn’t really need Cheol to come to your defense, he had been doing just fine repeating exactly what he said the previous night in the dorms and on Weverse. Why their team thought arguing with two of the most stubborn people in the group was a good idea, he’d never know. 

Twitter had been flooded with screen recordings of the live he did. Realistically it was a PR nightmare but all he really saw was the positive feedback. Fandoms of multiple groups had made comments on his actions, bringing up other idols like Chen from EXO and Bobby from iKON who had found their soulmates and started families while still working. There was of course the hateful comments but many came to the defense to combat the antis. 

It was the era of humanization in his eyes. Idols were not robots, nor were they property for the fans. They had lives outside of their profession, friends that were both celebrity and non-celebrity, and soulmates either with them or waiting for them. 

“ All of you, stop please. I’m getting a headache from the back and forth that isn’t getting us anywhere.” The VP sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “ It happened, fine, we can’t take it back, but for your sake and Y/N’s, don’t ever do something like this again.”

“ We can’t just have him going around and-” One of the Hybe PR representatives tried to argue but the VP held up a hand. 

“ And we very well can’t have him publicly apologize because the fans that do support him would be in an uproar. They would know he doesn’t mean it.” 

Jihoon watched the stare down between the two, very well knowing that this could have gone a lot worse. Beside him, Seungcheol gave a simple pat to his leg and spoke up. 

“ Let’s just focus on the rest of the tour and get through Caratland.” 

“ Jihoonie, why don’t we come visit you and meet them?” His mother hummed through the phone. 

He had been on the ride back from Hybe with Seungcheol, still technically on a small break before they would have a few more practices for the next stop on tour. Seungcheol was scrunching his nose up, suppressing the snicker that threatened to leave him. 

“ Do you think that will be a good idea? Coming all this way, staying in a hotel, then having to leave so soon since we’ll have practice?” He was trying to find every way to not have them come. Maybe saying how busy they would might help- 

“ Oh nonsense, we can come and stay and take them around- Y/N, right?” 

“ We call them Ruby, mom!” Seungcheol leaned close, speaking into the phone the best he could with Jihoon trying to push the older man away. 

He was in hell and Seungcheol wasn’t helping. 

“ Ruby? Like that little song you wrote?” 

Seungcheol took the phone from his hand, starting the small tangent of why Mingyu specifically picked the name. He couldn’t hear exactly what she was saying but it made the other laugh and continue on. The conversation had shifted as they pulled into the parking garage of their building. The leader was talking about the tour so far because apparently Jihoon didn’t tell his own mother about them getting back aside from a text that he found his soulmate, not even a phone call. 

“ Give me that, hyung.” Jihoon snatched his phone back from the other, quickly saying goodbye to his mother before hanging up with her. “ I’m going to see Ruby-ah.” 

“ You should let your parents meet them, she sounded so excited asking about them.” 

Huffing, Jihoon tucked his phone into his pocket, rubbing the back of his neck as they got out of the van. “ I know, I just still don’t want to overwhelm them much. Nothing is changing for me but everything is changing for Ruby-ah and I want to spread things out before that.” 

Walking into the elevator, Seungcheol nodded his head side to side, needing a moment to think and possibly give a better solution to everything. “ Maybe before the Japan leg? We’ll have a few weeks before In The Soop 2 then practice and flying out, it should be more than enough time, yeah?” 

Jihoon contemplated the idea, running through logistics in his head. It wasn’t a bad idea aside from the fact that once they left for the next part of the tour, everyone would be flying around and sleeping in hotels for three weeks before that. Unless things were bought, you’d be sleeping on a foam mat on the floor for a bed even after they returned. Hell, even the idea of needing to have you around for In The Soop? Things were getting even more complex before it got better. 

“I’ll figure it out, hyung.” Standing at your door, he felt the low rumble of exhaustion through the bond. You only got up a bit ago based on the feel, it was nearing noon. 

Hand raised to knock, he heard the shuffling of your feet and the door swung open before he got a chance too. Staring back at him now, he took in your form, messy hair and dark under eyes. You had wrapped yourself in the comforter, letting it drag behind you on the clear-ish floor. 

“What did you do?” You asked, lifting your phone to him. Twitter was open on the screen. 

Quickly he averted his eyes, dropping his arm and fiddling with the strap to his apple watch. 

“ I asked, what did you do?” You asked now in Korean, your tone firm. 

He sighed, still not meeting your eye. “ I heard you both times…” 

“Are you going to answer me then?” 

“...Do I have to?” 

He let himself be pulled into your apartment, the door nearly slamming shut behind him. He watched as you shuffle-marched into the bare living room and turned back to him. You looked a little mad but he couldn’t tell if you were actually mad since you didn’t feel mad. 

Jihoon kicked off his slides and stepped further into your home, keeping a small distance between the two of you. He could feel you watch him with every step. 

“ I’d like to say that I was really mad when I went live. And I feel no regret regarding my actions.” 

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath in as you frowned your brow, staring at him now. “ You could have given me a warning? A text? I found out because Jamie and Kazuki texted me over a hundred times while I was asleep!” 

Okay, he could have done that…But he instead cried, went to his room and slept until he was rudely awakened by their manager. 

But you didn’t need to know all of that- 

And you were right either way. 

He took a step closer, raising his arms in defeat. Your shoulders dropped and you sighed, curling the comforter closer around your body. Now he could feel the smallest shreds of anger between you held onto flow away into the distance of the bond. It was replaced with annoyance. 

“ I should have, but I wasn’t thinking straight.” Jihoon got closer now, placing a hand on your blanketed shoulder. “ I was mad and I couldn’t let them think that they would gain some sort of fucked up favor from me.” 

He watched as your face morphed from annoyed to neutral. Your eyes were looking for something on his face and a part of him felt a little self-conscious at being analyzed so close. 

Swiftly a hand came up and a finger raised to point at him. He had leaned back some, surprise written on his expression. You had poked the finger into his chest then pointed towards his face. He stared down your finger to your face, seeing your nose scrunched up the slightest bit. 

“Don’t, and I mean don’t! Do that again. I’m already gonna have a target on my back and I don’t need you fueling the crazy train of fire!” You flawlessly switched between the languages, a huff coming out after. “Now either show me good places to order furniture and groceries or take me out to go there.” 

He insisted that at least two security guards accompany you and he was grateful you didn’t try to fight him on it. Texting the little group chat the members had, Jihoon asked if anyone needed anything since the two of you would be going out shopping, sliding his phone into his pocket to wait for a reply. 

You had gone off to get changed and gather what you needed to head out. Jihoon could feel the small tidbits of excitement that buzzed under his skin but also felt the anxiety you were trying to suppress. He leaned himself against the wall, across crossed, waiting for you to finish whatever you were doing. 

A knock at the door had him perking up and looking at the small screen that showed outside of your door. Taking a breath in, he saw you shuffle out, wanting to stop you from answering it but you smiled brightly and hurried to the door. 

“Hey!” You smiled as Mingyu stood outside of the threshold, his eyes beaming with a smile plastered on his face. “ Did Jihoon-ah invite you?”

Mingyu shook his head, looking over you to him. “ Nah, he put out a text in the groupchat and I thought I’d just come along and help.”  

Jihoon had to resist rolling his eyes. Yeah he loved his members but a small part of him, outside of the security, wanted to be alone with you, a little domestically. Now though, he didn’t want to just kick Mingyu out because you looked so happy, but that didn’t mean he had to be fully happy about the uninvited guest. 

You had looked over to him, the smile once on your face dropping as you looked at him with curiosity. He could tell you felt the tiny sprout of jealousy he let slip but all he did was shake his head to you.

Jihoon waved both of you off some. “ Let’s get down to the garage so we can wait for security.”

Stepping out of the elevator on the garage level, Mingyu gasped and threw his arm around you. 

“ Coups-hyung, Shua-hyung, and Jeonghannie-hyung are also coming, they were in the dorm with Dokyeom when I was up there.” 

Jihoon internally groaned, frowning his brow as he walked behind the two of you. The trio was growing into a sextet and he was going to have to deal with teasing from both Jeonghan and Joshua. Nothing was going the way he wanted. Still, you looked so happy, much different than the tear streaked face you had yesterday, and he didn’t want to ruin the peace you held in your heart. 

The trio was already standing beyond the inside entrance between the garage and the apartment building, either on their phone or standing around. Hearing the door open, they turned, greeting each of you with small hellos and bows of their heads. Mingyu had fist bumped Seungcheol and gave little nods towards the other too. Jihoon hummed his greetings and stood behind where Mingyu pulled you in and had you greet the oldest of his group. 

He could see that you were a bit flustered, probably having to do with your bias standing right in front of you. He suppressed another roll of his eyes, stretching his neck to calm himself. 

It was going to be a long day. 

Mingyu was scheming, you could see the glint in his eye as you were being ushered into the van that pulled up. Jeonghan and Joshua had filed into the back and he pushed you into the back row with them. You tried to fight it a bit but he insisted and you were holding up their travels…so you ended up getting placed between what were known as the evil twins of Seventeen. 

“ Where are we going, Ruby-ah?” Jeonghan asked from your right, buckling himself into the seat. 

You just had to think about them like Jamie and Kazuki, or you told yourself that at least. They did remind you of them… 

“ Well, to not bore you with the details, I asked Jihoon to show me places to buy furniture then I need food because I can actually cook for myself.” 

Joshua snorted a laugh from your right, shaking his head to try and get the smile off his face. 

“ Mm, that’s alright, Jihoon can’t cook either so good luck feeding him for the rest of your life.” 

You heard a scoff from the row ahead of you where Jihoon, Seungcheol, and Mingyu sat. The latter and Seungcheol both snickered at Jeonghan’s comment. 

“ I don’t mind, your soulmate will have to deal with a pretty face and you complaining like an auntie if any video I’ve seen is true.” 

From the corner of your eye, you see Jeonghan’s mouth slightly agape. He sighed out, a sly smile gracing his face. 

“ Whoever my soulmate is will love me no matter what.” He tried to retort but your tongue got the best of you. 

“ Until you open your mouth.” 

The van erupted in laughter and a wave of amusement passed through you. You covered your face, nose scrunching up as you laughed. Peeking over to Jeonghan only had you laughing harder. He had his mouth hanging open, puffing out laughs in disbelief as he stared at you. 

You quickly gave an apology but it didn’t mean much as you continued to laugh, tears blooming in your eyes. 

“ Wahh- I’ve never seen him so shocked!” Seungcheol had turned in his seat, bright eyes looking at both of you. 

For a second, you met his eyes but quickly looked away. Your cheeks flared with heat and you could tell you were blushing, however you hoped your out of breath laughing would make it seem like you weren’t. Using your short sleeve to wipe away the tears, you looked at Jeonghan who was still trying to collect himself. He had closed his mouth at this point, crossing his arms over his chest and huffed. 

“ I’m being beaten at my own game.” He pursed his lips, looking out the window for a moment then back to you. He was smirking now, eyes filled with mischief. “ I think we will get along swimmingly, Ruby-ah.” 

Jihoon had turned in his seat to peer back at you three in the back. Jeonghan and you were staring at each other with wide grins, an unspoken agreement forming between them. 

Turning your head back to the leader duo before you, they too shared a look, but one more distressing than the one between you and Jeonghan.

“ We have just set ourselves up for hell.” Seungcheol whispered to Jihoon who’s eyes widened and a shiver ran down both his and your spine. 

“ I’m blaming Mingyu since he said you guys were coming.” Jihoon whispered back. 

“ Hey! Don’t blame me!” 

And an alliance was made at that moment.

Just as Jihoon agreed, your little group was driven by security to a furniture store, specifically an IKEA which had you snickering as you saw the blue and yellow building. 

“When you finish decorating, you need to invite everyone over and cook for us.” Jeonghan hummed, pulling his mask over his face as he stepped out after you. 

You raised a brow as you pulled your own mask up. “ Shouldn’t the guests bring housewarming gifts like food and a cheap little plant?” Sweet sarcasm laced each word. 

“Unless Mingyu, Seomin, or I are cooking, I don’t think you want to die.” Joshua fixed the bucket hat on his head and readjusted his mask. 

“ I want meatballs.” Mingyu hummed, taking your arm in his and walking off away from your group and towards the entrance. 

“ He is just stealing them away.” Jihoon scoffed, walking between Seungcheol and Jeonghan. 

Looking back over your shoulder, you could see the other four with one security guard while the other tried to keep up with the pace Mingyu had set between you. The jealousy from earlier was heavier in your chest and you felt a little bad to be dragged along as such. Getting to the main level of the store, you tried your best to break off from the taller man but he was unrelenting in showing you something he found cool or even cute. 

Joshua had fallen into a quiet conversation with you about any pieces you thought about getting. You had taken pictures of items you would need to order but with the size of the van the guards had arrived in, you were sure a few smaller boxes could fit if you tried. 

“ You should get a big couch so everyone can come over and sit on it.” Seungcheol commented, sitting on one of the display couches, arms resting over the back, legs spread in a typical man spread. 

You averted your eyes, letting a long breath of air out of your nose, butterflies fluttering in your stomach. Nope, you wouldn’t fall for anything- 

“ Who said any of you were invited?” You asked, looking at another display of an L-shaped couch to the left. “ Or are you just inviting yourself over?” 

“Careful, Ruby-ah, he’ll think you’re flirting.” Jeonghan warned playfully, taking a seat next to Seungcheol. 

Envy clawed at your soul. It felt a little suffocating but when you looked at Jihoon, he was in conversation with Joshua about an ottoman he could buy for his studio. No sign of any type of displeasure or jealousy was on his face. It was confusing you. 

“ You okay?” Mingyu asked, stepping into your field of vision. 

You only nodded and continued to look at the display furniture, taking pictures of tags and taking note of items. To keep Mingyu from hanging off of you, you had him carrying a basket of items for you, glad it was stopping him from clinging to you. 

Mingyu, even through videos, was someone who was clearly clingy. It was evident when he was around certain members, especially Jihoon, Minghao, and Seungkwan. He is always the person to remind these members how cute they were or just generally holding onto them. It was easy to see that you were a new friend to him even in the short time of knowing the man. He was kind and loving, a little too much in the physical contact department but you didn’t mind. You could understand the jealousy that Jihoon was feeling, having your soulmate clung to by a giant of a man. The part that had you a little annoyed was that he wasn’t doing much to stop Mingyu. You had to take it upon yourself to find a way to hinder Mingyu’s affection. 

Getting down to the actual warehouse floor, you already were ready to go grocery shopping and go home. Jihoon’s jealousy was eating at your last string of sanity and Mingyu wasn’t helping. With haste, you found the smaller items you wanted and a small tool kit. Jihoon offered to push the cart which you allowed, even adding the ottoman he wanted onto the pile. 

Joshua had been a steady, quiet figure beside you as you waited in line. Behind you Mingyu, Jeonghan, and Seungcheol were talking about an upcoming schedule while Jihoon was silent in front of you, waiting patiently with the cart. On either side of your small group, guards stood, keeping watchful eyes out for anything out of the ordinary or dangerous. They moved with you and you felt safe, or as safe as you could with two guards in a big ass warehouse. 

Paying for your items separate from Jihoon, Mingyu tried to get a few things as a gift, which you shot down instantly. The jealousy bubbled back up again, having settled for a bit prior, and you took a calmly breath in. 

“ Food is on me,” Joshua called out to your group, placing a hand on your shoulder. “ Go find a table, I’ll take them to get food.” 

Before you knew it, Joshua was leading you away, one of the guards following you while the other stayed with the rest to find a suitable table. The line for food was long but you were thankful to be away from almost all of them to settle. 

“You’re allowed to be annoyed.” Joshua spoke, sliding his hands into his pocket. “You’ve looked annoyed since walking into the store.” 

You cringed, dropping your shoulders and sighing. “Have I been that obvious? I’m trying to keep my mood up but it’s just not getting better.” 

You watched as Joshua looked over to your group towards the back of the food area, most of them sitting and playing on their phones. “Is it Mingyu or Jihoon?” 

“Would it be bad if I said both?” You glanced at him, letting the other take in your exasperated expression. “At first, I was fine with Mingyu all over me, he is like a giant puppy that just wants attention. Yesterday was like that and I was okay with it too, Jamie and Kazuki were physically affectionate people, I loved it. But today?” You rubbed a hand over your face, following him as you took a step forward in line. “Jihoon is so jealous and it's radiating through the bond but he isn’t saying a single thing. I’m the one trying to stop Mingyu by filling his arms with shit and staying a few steps back.” 

Joshua’s expression goes from curious to empathetic. “He means well, Jihoon just isn’t good at expressing himself. It’s been years for me and sometimes he is still hard to read most days.” 

“The problem I’m having internally is whether I tell him I know because he knows that I know that he is feeling that way, or just let him come to me. Just because I can feel it I shouldn’t just air all the laundry out and place the blame on him, right? But shouldn’t he talk to me? I’ve been annoyed and he’s barely said a word to me aside from talking with the other guys and I know he can feel it.” You grumbled out your rambled response when annoyance tangled beside the jealousy Jihoon held in him. 

You wanted to rip your hair out and beat him with a shoe. 

“ And now he is annoyed, and I’m back to wanting to go home.” You switched to Korean, 

Joshua laughed, letting you simmer in the feeling before patting your back gently. “Maybe you should talk to him. He won’t come to you unless you tell him it’s a problem.” 

You were happy to be home, glad to have help from each of them with carrying groceries and boxes. Mingyu had happily carried a box of a nightstand while Seungcheol and a guard easily carried a coffee table. Joshua and Jihoon provided plenty of help with the smaller items and food store bags. 

You ushered the oldest and Mingyu out, motioning for Jihoon to stay behind. The smile you had on your face as you bid each a goodnight faltered as the door closed and you paused, hand on the doorknob to collect yourself. Turning to where Jihoon sat on your living room floor, he averted his eyes when you tried to meet them. 

“ Jihoon-ah..” You spoke up firmly, watching as his shoulders tensed. “ Can we talk about it?” 

“There isn’t anything to really talk about.” He replied, rolling his head and stretching his neck. 

You took a deep breath, stepping into the living room. Standing before him, you placed your hands on your hips. You couldn’t get mad at him. 

“ You can’t hide it from me and it ticked me off all day.” You sighed out, “ And you just let your jealousy wash into it without saying a single word. If you don’t like something, you can use your words.” 

Jihoon looked at you, frowning, biting his lower lip to hold in whatever was actually on his mind. Annoyance that rivaled your own was flooding the bond with envy. “ Then what? When I’m not around will you have him hang off of you? It isn’t like you stopped it at first and you probably didn’t yesterday.” 

Your mouth hung open and you looked off to the side, shaking your head. “ You are going to blame me? I started to pile his arms with stuff to make him stop.” 

“But you could use your words too!” He was getting angry now, standing up and pacing around the room, avoiding any boxes. “ You're my soulmate! I wanted to go out with you today and when Mingyu showed up I wanted to tell him to fuck off!” 

“And how is that my problem when you don't say anything!” You threw your hands up, groaning in frustration. “ Jihoon-ah, just because I can feel every single emotion you have, does not mean I am going to know what it’s exactly about! It’s emotion sharing, not mind reading!” 

You haven’t felt him this heated before. Yes, he has been angry in the past, but now it was different. He paced around the room, running a hand through his hair and grumbling under his breath. Every part of him was tense and your hands balled into fists. You didn’t know what to say next, his anger was getting to you. 

“ For once I want something for myself, I want to be selfish and I don’t want everyone hogging you.” He muttered, shaking his head and setting his jaw. “ I want to be the center of your attention- I want to hold you and protect you but he just gets in my way-” 

“You can’t hog me, Jihoon-ah. I’m a person not an object. I can have friends outside of you.” You didn’t mean to sound so harsh. 

Moving your gaze back to him, his shoulders dropped and the anger he once held in his face faded. When he spoke again, his voice was soft, almost painful if you could place a word to it.

“ Ruby-ah,” Heartbreak was written all over his face now. “ I don’t mean it like that. I just- God why is talking so hard-” 

He pushed his hair back, holding the strains back from falling in his face. Jihoon was struggling to form the words and regret perched above any anger and jealousy you once felt. 

“ I’ve waited years, hearing stories of friends and family talking about meeting their soulmate. I’ve had to share everything for years since debut with my members, literally everything.” He moved towards you, letting his hands fall to his side and just simply resting his head on your shoulder. The bond thrummed with warmth. “ I don’t want to share. I want to be the one you hold onto. I want to be the one you let hold you. I want to plan stupid little dates that you’ll make fun of me for because it will be cheesy.” 

Slowly, you felt his arms wrap loosely around you. “ I want to write songs about you and for you. I want to be everything with you and for you.” 

You raised your arms, one sliding across his back and the other coming up to run through his hair. 

“We really are two idiots, huh?”

[dailyanarchistposts]

Author: Abbey Volcano Topics: anti-work, health care, work

This is a story about anger, “non-profits,” and pissing blood. I was in my fifth year working at an independent health food store run by religious fanatics in a suburb outside of the city and I needed more money. I started off part-time at a cultural center, working the events. I would mainly be there at night, during performances and exhibits—taking people’s tickets, helping the artists set up, serving hors d’oeuvres, cleaning the toilets, etc. I was paid $12/hr to do this work and it was the most I had ever made in my life and it was the only job that wasn’t in the service industry, so I was pretty excited. Pretty soon after I started they asked me if I could take over the secretarial position. This was a full-time desk job. I really needed the money, especially because the health food store was closing down since a Whole Foods had moved into town. I took the job since I couldn’t have really done much better as far as pay went.

I know some people think that non-profits are non-capitalist or are somehow better for society and people who work there and so on. People who work in management positions at non-profits tend to be kind of smug because of this. The place I worked didn’t really operate much differently from any other job, so if there’s a non-profit difference, I didn’t see it. This job had been salaried before I took it but they switched it to hourly and they had me work 10-5p instead of 9-5p so they could opt me out of health insurance, sick days, vacation leave, or bennies of any variety. At first I was happy about being able to start working later in the day (I’m a nocturnal insomniac) and I had never had insurance through a job before, so didn’t think much of it. But I realized pretty quickly that this was bullshit. Everyone else in the office was on salary. Sometimes I felt bad for them because if they worked longer hours, they still received the same pay, but I was mainly upset that I was the only unsalaried person. Others clocked in: the janitor, the tech people, part-time people, but I was the only one in the office who had to clock in.

Pretty much everyone mostly just fucked around on the job. Now, I’ve done my share of fucking around on the job. I’m all for fucking around on the job. It beats actually working. But in this job, other people would get mad at me if I needed to do something that meant they had to do some work instead of fucking around on the job. My job made me the first person anyone calling or coming into the cultural center made contact with. If I wasn’t there, someone else had to take calls or questions, or give tours, or the worst: make their own copies and fax their own memos. The other people in the office would be pretty pissed if I wasn’t there on time, or if I was in the bathroom, or late, whatever. They weren’t mean to me, but it disrupted their regular schedule of fucking around in the back and I could tell it annoyed them.

So there was me in the front office and four people in the back: grant writer, administrative person, accounts manager, and the executive director. Everyone else had a lot of flexibility, like you would expect at a salaried job at a cultural center to have. When they had dentist appointments, doctor appointments, their children were sick, they were sick, or anything that required them to be out of the office, they were allowed to go without penalty. Now I didn’t have health insurance like the rest of them, so I didn’t need to worry about getting time off to go to the doctor or dentist. Lucky me! I was pretty bitter about these dynamics, especially since we were all supposed to get along and be friends and what not. I found myself pretty focused on the fact that they had access to all these things and I didn’t. I’d see them laughing and joking around and I’d just think to myself how much easier it is to put a smile on at work when you at least get bennies. (Of course, work sucks, full stop. Fuck work.) So I hated my job, I hated almost all my co-workers because they were smug and on power trips. The executive director—that’s another story all its own; she is a character. A character you love to hate. She’s a rich liberal who thinks she’s a radical. Gross.

Here’s a brief story to demonstrate her fake radicalness, her loyal opposition. The executive director seemed to fetishize me as a radical. She knew my politics since I had been cooking with Food Not Bombs for a couple years and we used the center’s kitchen. So we had chatted a bunch and she considered herself a fellow radical. I’m not sure why she thought this of herself, but she did. When I first started the secretarial position, it was not explained to me that I was to be both a secretary and a personal assistant to this woman. One of the first things she had me do was look over a schematic she came up with that demonstrated how the office was organized in a non-hierarchical manner. She asked me to look it over and offer her suggestions—I think she wanted to pass these out to the office workers to boost morale, but I’m not really sure. The only suggestion I could offer is that it was completely untrue. She was interested in why I thought this, so I took the time to explain to her that the office is not organized in a non-hierarchical manner, as she had clear authority over tasks and the division of labor, she clearly made about $50k more than the other salaried employees, and as looking at it from my own standpoint, I didn’t even have insurance, sick-leave, vacation days, nor salary. It wasn’t just pay that divided us, but the division of labor was clearly and rigidly set by the board and the executive director who also established the various rules and regulations (formal and informal) which we were all to follow. It was really gross to have my boss try to convince me that we were working in a cooperative, non-hierarchical office situation. I continued to oppose everything she offered to support her argument, but she eventually dropped it and just laughed it off. I never saw that schematic again.

So one day I felt like I had a urinary tract infection (UTI) coming on. For those of you unfamiliar with this particular malady— congratulations because they are the worst. It causes you to have to pee constantly, but when you try to urinate it doesn’t really work, and it feels like razor blades are coming out of your urethra instead of urine. It’s awful. Vaginas are more susceptible to them and if you’ve had one, you’ll likely have another since it causes scar tissue, which causes more UTIs, which causes more scar tissue, etc. There are some over-the-counter drugs to ease the pain, but you need to take an antibiotic to clear up the infection so you can pee normally again. When you have a UTI, you can’t really leave your house. It’s awful. A 5-minute ride to work can be too much to handle. When I say you have to pee constantly, I mean it. Sometimes you just sit on the toilet waiting to pee. Sometimes you wear a pad so you can let out little bits of pee. Perhaps I’m getting a little TMI. But the point is, holding in your pee, even if it’s a miniscule amount, is pain that no one can bear.

So I had a UTI coming on and I knew it. I did whatever I could to try and address it with natural things so I didn’t have to go to the walk-in clinic. I drank incredibly expensive gallons of 100% unsweetened cranberry juice, I drank more water than I thought possible, and I also took incredibly expensive cranberry extract pills. That will usually steer me clear and take care of things, but not this particular time. I had symptoms for over a week. I was incredibly uncomfortable and in a lot of pain, but I knew that I didn’t have money to pay for the walk-in, to pay for the meds, and especially to take time off from work and lose those hours.

One morning, about eight days into this ordeal, I woke up to go to work and realized I was now pissing blood. UTIs that get bad enough to piss blood are rare. They’re rare because most people wouldn’t put up with the amount of pain and length of time it takes to have an untreated UTI develop into one which causes pissing blood. Pissing blood is kind of the last straw. So I was pissing blood and knew I had to get to the walk-in as soon as possible. I reluctantly called into work, explained the situation, and told them I’d get there as soon as possible, but that I needed to go to the walk-in first. This was a pretty difficult task since I also didn’t have a car at the time since mine had been stolen from that same job (wee! And also my wallet was stolen off my desk at one point). So I borrowed a car, went to the walk-in, they confirmed I had a UTI and scolded me on waiting so long to treat it, gave me a prescription, and sent me on my way. I went to the pharmacy, got my pills, and drove to work so I could at least make some money that day.

UTIs are treatable and one of the most common infections—all you really need is to take an anti-biotic for a few days and it’s over. My co-workers were shocked that I was pissing blood, they were very concerned and asked why I waited so long to take care of things. The women, especially, winced when I told them the pain I was in. They even told me to go home for the day. At this point, I had pretty much lost any ability to remain calm. I explained to them that I couldn’t afford to take time off of work, I couldn’t afford the walk-in clinic, and I couldn’t afford the prescription, and that was “why” I waited so long. I stayed the rest of the day, of course. I didn’t speak to anyone and my eyes were daggers.

The fact that I had to be pissing blood in order to justify taking off a few hours from work is bullshit. When smug well-off women at “non-profits” are shocked and ask you why you waited so long to go to the doctor when you have a UTI, you pretty much want to kill them, and anyone else, hell, everyone else. They couldn’t understand what it meant not having insurance, not having sick-leave, and not having the ability to even get to a doctor without borrowing a car. They were so used to their salary, their benefits, their vacation time, that they seemed unable to understand the problems I was having and why I didn’t do things the way they would have. I didn’t mince my words, so they started to get it a little. Then they just walked around in a kind of guilty manner the rest of the day. These are the same people who could’ve made my job full-time, offered me benefits, etc. They made the choice to change the job when I took it. I think they knew I’d take it since I was desperate and they weren’t worried about filling the position, so why not screw me over? Worst is, 35 hours in my state is considered full-time and I believe I was entitled to sick leave. Trimming my position to 35 hours/week made them feel better about taking away any benefits, but it wasn’t legal. They felt guilty when they found out how their decision to change my job had affected me, but not so guilty as to pay me more or provide me with health insurance. Fuck liberals, their useless guilt, and their loyal opposition. Furthermore, like I said, fuck work.

[sweetdreamsjeff]

THE GOOD, THE BAD, & THE LAUNDRY WITH BRENDA KAHN

In Features, Interviews by Jason L.05.28.19

Originally published at Hard Rock RPM

Poet. Guitarist. Songwriter. Publisher. Activist. Mother. Brenda Kahn’s music career stretches from the anti-folk scene of the East Village in the early 1990s to a recently published book of poetry about parenting aptly titled The Good, The Bad, And The Laundry. Along the way, Kahn recorded with her friend Jeff Buckley, played Lilith Fair multiple times, ran a website focused on women in music, and answered the call when Bob Dylan wanted her to open a show. While she may have traded the drug dealers of Avenue A for her children and a life in the countryside, Kahn’s keen eye for detail continues to serve her well.

...

The Ryan Adams news was not the least surprising in terms of the issues that persist in the business. How much of that did you experience during your career? While I feel like the 90s were a hugely successful time for women in music, I am terrified to imagine what the artists were experiencing.

I think this is finally changing because of access to the internet. I wish I’d been able to google “Should I get a Fender or a Gibson guitar”.  Or “what are the chords to “Like a Rolling Stone” back when I was in high school. I met several guys along the way who treated me as total equals.  One of whom was Jeff Buckley who taught me the two drum beats I can play on a kit now. And my producer Tim Patalan on Outside the Beauty Salon, who handed me a guitar and said – “You play the lead.”

...

Any memories about touring with Dylan and Buckley that you could share?

Opening for Bob Dylan was one of those bucket list moments that seemed so unlikely, it wasn’t even on the list. We found out about the tour dates while I was in France doing a promotional tour for Epiphany in Brooklyn. My manager busted into the room and said he had good news and bad news.  The good news was I was going to open for Bob Dylan, the bad news was I wasn’t allowed to open for him solo acoustic. I had to have a band. I was in France, the show was in two weeks, and the guys I made the album with were all on tour with other artists. Of course, I said yes.  I had just written the song “too far gone” and the timing was all over the place.  I didn’t know if I would get in trouble, but the band dropped out and I did that one song solo acoustic.  The feeling of being on that stage, where you could hear a pin drop, singing to 6000 Bob Dylan fans… best ever moment.

With Jeff Buckley it was really different because we were friends.  I don’t have a lot of tour stories because we were in different vehicles, but we would hang out at sound checks and play blues songs sometimes or eat together, but mostly we played our shows and went onto the next town.  But my memories of Jeff are more about hanging out in New York.  We spent hours together doing nothing.  Shopping in random thrift stores or making up dumb songs on the guitar.  In my mind, I can see him wheeling my 50lb amp down 9th street to a gig at Brownies, I remember him calling me last minute to come see him open up for Patti Smith at Irving Plaza.

The one serious recording we made together came from a time we were in my apartment and he was playing my tele, this really beautiful riff, and I said, ‘I have something that might work for that’ and started reading these snippets of poems I had written in these tiny notebooks. After about 10 minutes he stopped and looked at me and said “four-track”.  So funny because now you would just pull up an app on your iPhone and click a button, but back then, you had to set up microphones and plugin guitars and set levels. Jeff had a reel to reel tape machine in his apartment.  Anyway, that song turned out to be “Faith Salons” and it’s one of the last things he recorded.  When I hear his foot tapping and his vocals in the background it gets me every time.

[likeadevils]

what’s your album ranking?

i legitimately can’t pick, like i go to all of her albums for different things and they all fill different needs to various degrees, so instead i will tell you what i like most about each album

debut: no skips. if i am in the mood to listen to debut i am in the mood to listen to all of debut. i don’t know if that’s due to excellent pacing or just consistent quality but it’s a feat

fearless: like i said earlier it’s so thematically consistent. like it’s not just a collection of good songs it’s a collection of good songs in conversation with each other and arranged in a way that makes it better than the sum of its (already outstanding on their own) parts

speak now: this album has grown on my the most? it was my favorite when i first got into taylor but then i kinda fell out of love with it in my teen years because it seemed kinda childish? but then i turned 19 and was like no this is exactly what this time in my life feels like. i also used to think it didn’t have any themes and was just a collection of good songs, but the more i’ve listened to it the more i’m like, no, it actually is revolving around a central question, it just doesn’t have a title that reflects it

red: god when this album hits it fucking hits. i feel like this album is when taylor really deconstructed the way she wrote songs and became even more intentional about the way she told stories. also, the way she structured the album with each song being the opposite of the song that came before it is absolutely genius

1989: dear god i love 1989. she’s just… there’s this one review that says it simultaneously sounds exactly like taylor swift and like nothing she’s ever made before, and just. like the phrase cultural reset gets thrown around a lot but she literally reshaped pop as we knew it, the way it sounded the way it was promoted like. it brought back 80s dream pop!! she invented secret sessions for it!! it’s the album that invented the word era!! the tour was one of the first tours to include light up bracelets!!

rep: i think rep is the opposite of 1989 in that it didn’t get a lot of love when it first came out, partially because people wanted to shit on anything she did, and partially because it kinda sounded like a cheap knockoff of what was on the radio at the time— which, it wasn’t, and it did kickstart a lot of trends like the anti chorus and other stuff i’m blanking on at the moment, but compared to how transformative 1989 was it kinda got screwed right out of the gate. BUT as it’s gotten older it’s been able to stand on its own two feet and be appreciated for just how expertly crafted the lyrics are. also, once again we have a purposeful tracklist order, telling the same story from two different perspectives while also pulling off telling one story, which is just. i’m such a slut for a good tracklist order

lover: like with red, when lover hits it really fucking hits. like it probably has the highest highs of any of her albums, and the lows aren’t that low

folklore: folklore is just. like after red i was like okay taylor’s career can go in three different ways: she can lean into pop, lean into rock, or lean into a softer acoustic sound. and when she chose pop and knocked it out of the fucking park i was elated, but i also did quietly mourn the other songs she could’ve written, especially after all the acoustic b-stages that made me fall in love with songs if previously kinda dismissed, like dwoht and wtny. so long way of saying that i’d been waiting for taylor to make an album like folklore since 2012 and somehow it not only matched my expectations but blew past them

evermore: like with lover, i don’t have much to say beyond like. these are some really good fucking songs. like. you could say almost any of these songs are your favorite taylor swift song and i’d be like, immaculate taste my dude, don’t forget to eat something before you take your meds

midnights: it’s such a mature album. like you know on liability reprise (lordes best song) when lorde stops the whole song to repeat “but you’re not what you thought you were” and she says it like it’s both a good and a bad thing? i feel like midnights takes that concept and just runs with it, like it’s made me completely reframe… not who i think taylor is, maybe, but who i think taylor thinks she is

[sweetmusingss]

“Yeah, that is what I am worried about. I think it’s already a lot that I booked this whole Romania trip for us and he is probably not going to want me spending money again but I also don’t want him spending his hard-earned money on the house. This was my idea,” I say, frowning slightly before turning my attention back towards the kids. “I will have to talk to him about it and see what he says,” I say. “I am sure we will bicker back and forth about the money aspect but I really want this for us. And the house has extra rooms in case we ever decide to have more children,” I smile at the thought even though I wasn’t planning on getting pregnant any time soon.

Renee’s eyes widen as you mention the Romania trip that she didn’t know about and the whole wanting extra space for kids. “Okay, this is a lot of information you’re throwing at a pregnant woman. First off, I’m sure Seb wants to spend his hard earned money on a house for you and Noah... you two can split stuff, you know? Like you tackle one aspect of the finances and he tackles the other. He does have money and he wants to spend it, and he definitely doesn’t want you buying everything. He’s not a toxic man at all, but any man would feel some sort of way about their girlfriend buying them a home and all that.” She puts her hand on her stomach and moves a bit on the bench, clearly being a bit uncomfortable, before continuing on. “And did you just mention wanting more kids? Like, that’s fucking amazing... This little one will need a friend considering Alex is going to keep Noah all to herself.” She smiles, giggling a bit. “Is that something you two have talked about? I know Seb wants kids, he has had baby fever ever since Alexandra came along, but up until meeting you, he was all anti-romance and anti-marriage and anti-happily ever afters so I wasn’t sure if that was something you two have discussed before.”

__

Frank hugged you back tightly, finding comfort in your hug. He let his touch linger even longer than usual because he was definitely a clingy drunk. He stayed close to you, just naturally having his arm around you as he looked back at you. “You even brought beer! You’re my favorite person in the world right now,” he smiled at you, being more clingy than he normally would be. “I am good, better now that you’re here. It’s nice to see you though. I missed having you around. Life gets boring spending it with the same three dudes every single day,” he laughed softly when seeing Mikey flip him off out of the corner of his eye. “You keep things fun and interesting. How are you doing though?”

I bite my lip when I feel Frank’s touch linger, wondering what that was about considering he usually pulled away from most hugs after a normal amount of time but he was definitely holding on for a bit longer than usual. I couldn’t let myself start thinking hopefully though, knowing that was dangerous territory. I can’t help but blush as he says I was his favorite person, glancing down at his arms around my waist, my heart pounding in my chest. “I know, being in an internationally famous band and getting to tour the world with your three best friends really gets old, doesn’t it?” I tease him, poking his nose playfully. “I’m okay, LA is gross and too hot... I miss Jersey. And you lot, obviously. How have you been doing?” I crack open my beer, taking a sip before handing it to him, us always being like this, sharing drinks and food nonchalantly, something I didn’t often do with the other guys.

[slavghoul]

There’s an interview with Martin in the new issue of Sweden Rock Magazine and he talks a bit about Ghost. I know some of you still miss the good ole Omega days and wonder what the hell happened in 2016 or whether he and TF are on speaking terms at all, so I translated the few parts where he talks about his time in the band..

--

There have been countless rumours about the reasons for your departure from Ghost, everything from mental illness to alcohol. I want to give you a chance to sort out what happened when you left.

MP: I don't know if I need the chance. Well, I have severe fucking ADHD, I was diagnosed the other year. And I've been taking anti-depressants for 16 years, I quit three months ago. So yeah, mental ups and downs have been plenty. No more alcohol problems than the average construction worker. It's invasive and so fucking unnecessary to delve too much into it, but in short: after six-seven years of intense fucking work, you get tired of each other in a way that might be unimaginable to someone who hasn't experienced that kind of relationship. It wasn’t just Tobias, it was everyone towards each other. You sit on a tour bus and you don't feel like it's a holiday or a fun thing, but such is life. I see it as a marriage. Ask anybody, let a mate move into your living room and live together in the same room for two years. A lot happens to your personalities and even though we were anonymous, you got a boost of some feigned self-esteem that some of us never had. It was turbulent, but also really fun and beautiful to do those things with that gang. There was nothing dramatic happening, no one doing more drugs than anyone else. Me and Tobbe both thought and think good things about each other. I can say the same about Simon or keyboardist Mauro Rubino or drummer Aksel Holmgren or bassist Rikard Ottoson or guitarist Henrik Palm or whoever. But people don’t need to know everything. It's as bizarre as me talking about my ex to the newspaper. Maybe if I lived in Hollywood, but now I live in Linköping, haha.

Do you have contact with Tobias today? Will you ever reconcile?

MP: Strictly business. I definitely think so. Sometimes you just have to have some time apart. I see no reason why we shouldn't, I see it that way with all the guys involved. It's a bit like having broken up with a girlfriend. It can be hard to see her with a new guy and you have to look after yourself. I've never felt the need to pour this out to people, I think it just does more damage. I understand that people want to know, but it's funny. People buy that it's anonymous for however long and then they want to know the most intimate stuff.

You have an Omega tattoo, your symbol in Ghost. Is it a painful reminder or do you mostly look back on that time as something positive?

MP: I have it on my shoulder, it sits where it sits. The Omega thing has nothing to do with Ghost for me. We had five symbols to distinguish the costumes and I had one stuck to one of my guitars. As we didn't have names, people started calling me that. When I think back on my time with the band, it's many years of great stuff. Being on tour isn't a great thing if you're unwell or homesick, but overall it was fantastic. We had so much fun, it was great and new for everyone and we learned stuff every day. We took it seriously, were smart and strategic and didn't party the whole thing up. If we had been 20 years old, it wouldn't have worked. For me, it's a great, important period.

How different would Ghost's first three albums have been without you?

MP: I'm not going to trample on myself, but I'm not going to put myself on some fantasy pedestal either. The band, the idea and the concept was started by Tobias and bassist Gustaf Lindström. That's it. Five guys don't wake up the same day and have the same idea. He's the main visionary, no question about it. He started Ghost and has written Opus Eponymous more or less alone. But for the next album, we had formed a band around it. It was still his band, everybody understood that he's the boss, but the musicians became more or less contributors. I came up with song ideas, ideas of what we should look like, album covers, concepts. And Tobbe was damn clever. He understood that if something was good, it didn't matter who did the shit. But there was no one with the mandate to take his place. lnfestissumam would have been a little different, but not that different. Some people say that when the old members left, the band died. That's not true. I think the musicians have played a big role live, but in the song-writing I don't think so. It's really hard to say what impact someone has had, but if you've been there, you've been there. On Impera, Hux Nettermalm plays drums and I hear it's not Ludvig Kennberg who plays on Opus Eponymus, Meliora and Prequelle. Aksel has his style and Martin Hjertstedt who played drums live also has a great style. Other than that, there are not so big differences.

The first time I heard that Magna Carta Cartel and Ghost shared members, I thought that the bands had the same singer.

MP: I've heard that plenty of times. In MCC it has been me or Simon singing. Neither Tobbe nor I, especially I, are trained singers. I won't compare us too much, because he's probably done over a thousand live shows by now. But we're from the same town, have the same accent... I can't sing any other way, I can't really sing at all. My voice here is just another instrument. If I'd done it again from the beginning, we'd probably have a different singer. I know people want to imagine it’s Tobias singing in MCC. They can stand in the room when we play and think it's him. People have been talking about the lyrics of "Sway" being about Ghost, but it was written in 2004 and is about a girl I had a crush on. But it doesn't matter how many times you present the facts, people still think things - and it's both amazing and terrifying.

[mclennonlgbt]

John queering and Paul un-queering the Beatles

TW: f*g slur

Reading and watching the various statements by John and Paul, I've noticed that Lennon loves to refer to the Beatles as "four fags" - and if he talks about himself and Paul, he is also heavily queer-coding - and McCartney is very distant from the subject. He doesn't feel comfortable with it and tries to convince himself that the Beatles were 100% heterosexual.

Everyone can draw conclusions for themselves. Here I wanted to put a compilation of those statements.

JOHN LENNON

1971: "The laugh is that nobody ever said – they did say to us Beatles, as Beatles: „Don’t you get on each other’s nerves?” I suppose that was the same question, but they didn’t really… Now they’re howling because we are parted. But there were times that I spent as much time with George, Paul and Ringo as I did with Yoko. I mean I slept with them in the same room – in twin beds of course – on tour… And I lived and breathed with them for 5 or 10 years or something. Nobody said that about 4 young fags living together, right? Not a word!"

1972: "It’s a strange thing, though, that the whole of the world would like 4 men to stay together. In blissful youthfullness – all shaking their heads and being the Fab Four, and never having any women in the scene. Very strange seeing the whole world wants 4 fags to go on together, you know, forever”.

I don't know the year (from the book "The Beatles: Off the Record"): "“The Beatles’ tours were like Fellini’s Satyricon. [...] I mean, we had that image, but man, our tours were likes something else. If you could get on our tours, you were in. Australia, just everywhere! Just Satyricon. Just think of Satyricon with four musicians going through it. Wherever we went, there was always a whole scene going on. We had our four bedrooms separate and Derek and Neil’s rooms were always full of fuck knows what, and policemen and everything. Satyricon! We had to do something, and what do you do when the pill doesn’t wear off, when it’s time to go? I used to be up all night with Derek, whether there was anybody there or not. I could never sleep, such a scene it was". "Satyricon" is s a 1969 Italian fantasy drama film by Federico Fellini. The movie contains quite a bit of sexual innuendo, but very little, if any, is heterosexual.

1980: "Still, in the early days, we didn’t care about lyrics as long as the song had some vague theme… she loves you, he loves him, they all love each other.”

1980: "Nobody ever said anything about Paul's having a spell on me or my having one on Paul! They never thought that was abnormal in those days, two guys together, or four guys together! Why didn't they ever say, 'How come those guys don't split up? I mean, what's going on backstage? What is this Paul and John business? How can they be together so long?' We spent more time together in the early days than John and Yoko: the four of us sleeping in the same room, practically in the same bed, in the same truck, living together night and day, eating, shitting and pissing together! All right? Doing everything together! Nobody said a damn thing about being under a spell. Maybe they said we were under the spell of Brian Epstein or George Martin”.

PAUL MCCARTNEY

The Beatles Anthology, 2000: "It was always obvious Brian was gay and we could talk to him about gay things, but he would never come out with, 'Hello, Paul, you're looking nice today.' I was quite obviously un-gay, due to my haunting of the female hordes, and I think we all must have given the same impression".

1997, Paul talking about the script of „Up Against It”, the movie the Beatles were supposed to star in, but that never happened, to Roy Carr: "We weren’t gay and really that was all there was to it. It was quite simple, really. Brian was gay… and so he and the gay crowd could appreciate it. Now, it wasn’t that we were anti-gay - just that we, The Beatles, weren’t gay".

I don't know the year: “But John, I loved him as a brother, but I’m not writing a love song to him".

Disclaimer: I'm aware that John is mildly homophobic in his statements and that Howard Stern is very pushy on Paul, which really sucks (Howard Stern sucks in general).

[tellmethisisnottumblisnextfuckup]

Gabiiii hello. I am just catching up what’s going on. Help. I don’t know where to start. Have you got a list of all the things happened because I wasn’t able to watch the show online like I always do.

Also,can I rant here for a bit in your Asks inbox because I need these out of my chest for the people who seemed to have needs proof every second and the people who seemed to have forgotten hot to look after themselves. So apparently Louis pointed into the Larry sign and every one freaked out? If there are millions of people who believe in Larry for more than a decade and never stopped talking about it, I don’t think you still need some proofs or something. Just get on with it, it’s already real. What more could you want? For them to have to have sex in front of you? Any of them doing larry thingz that are just incredibly loud should not even be surprising anymore just like the millions of times they’ve done it.

Additionally, I am all for signs. But please, just keep it Louis focus because this is his tour. He had been waiting for this for years and he shall recieved our full attention without having to do this and that if larry is real. He knows that half of the people in the venue he is in every night are Larries, the biggest drive why that Louies (and Harry’s) fandom is so welcoming and like a pride parade all the time because Larries believe in two gay men being in a relationship, so antis or whoever the fuck you are, you can go suck your own dicks.

Last thing, it is our responsibility to look after ourselves therefore HYDRATE YOURSELVES AND EAT.Louis is not your mother nor is he your father that he has to look after you all when you are old enough to be in fuckin concerts. It is very disappointing, disrespectful and egotistical on the fans part that he has to stop every show because you didn’t drink. I get that it is excitement crowding all your common senses but if you have to buy a drink, go into the side and have to get yourself together, Do it. It is your responsibility as an individual to look after yourself first and if you can’t anymore, that’s where venue staff are there for.

It is just cringe and weird how every night he has to stop his show because you all are falling like flies in the venue during concerts. Get yourselves together people, this is just madness. It disrupts the flow of the show and it ruins every thing else. There are people who paid a lot for it to have a show that does not constantly being stopped all the time. Also, it’s the staff who has to deal with delays and every thing. So let’s just get it together, yes?

Also can I add how middle fingers should be tamed unless he starts doing it or when doing photos? Because in my family, we do not do that. It is offensive and highly disrespectful. I do not get that and have never considered it as a “love language”, it is more of a “piss off” language. Seriously would never see me doing that to anyone no matter the reason; or is that just a Western culture thing that I don’t get? There are better options, probably send him some blown kisses because like that one video, he was all giggly and shy and blushing. It is much more beautiful.

❗️HYDRATE AND EAT ❗️

Let me sum it up for you, ah I miss these pizza guy-what did I miss posts haha, those good ol' 1D touring days!

It was a great show, from what I could catch the show had to be stopped as people again kept passing out, and Louis even left the stage while those fans got water to regroup.

The signs are something we'd never have control over, they existed at all 1D concerts, it's the boys' choice to react, thumb them up, alas encourage them. I'm a bit torn at what to think, on one hand he didn't seem annoyed so why should I - on another hand we're not 12 anymore. I still haven't made up my mind. But I think it would be super entitled of me to complain when he himself the artist it was directed at not only didn't seem annoyed but he thumbed it up.

So yes, we have video of this sign "Sing Walls if Larry is real" which he acknowledged with a smile. The sign was huge, it's without a doubt he could see it and read it just fine. And it was yet again his decision to acknowledge it and point to it with a smile on his face

And we also have another acknowledgement of a sign, which had 2 cute Larry pics.

And god yes, people, EAT and DRINK. Please. I get it there's no AC, I get it they're overcrowded as the venues could be overbooked, but please try to help yourself, Louis is not your target when you feel sick. Security is there to help, others are there too. Louis has enough to worry about at a show: his own health, working the crowd and keeping up the spirits, technical glitches etc. Just try to do the maximum you can before entering the venue.

And our lovely content provider already uploaded the full show on Youtube.

And that's what you missed on Glee.

[buckys-black-dress]

inked

a/n: here she is!!! while i work on afl, here is my crackfic on tattoo artist bucky!! if u haven’t caught on yet, most of my writing is au’s because of all the possibilites in terms of scenarios and storylines. anyways, i hope you enjoy, lovies!!! xoxo, ali <3

wc: 2.8k 

[tattoo artist!bucky x fem!reader]

-

It was like an addiction. 

Your first tattoo you got was simple. It was a dainty, small one on your wrist.

But now, it was slowly developing into a sleeve.

Not that you minded, though. Your forearm was slowly becoming filled with designs that you kept going back and getting here and there.

And at the tattoo parlor near your apartment in Brooklyn, you had become a regular at this point.

It was called B&R Tattoo Shop, and it was run by two of the kindest, but most attractive men you’ve ever met. 

You’ve come to find out after getting to know the owners, that they opened the shop a bit after they returned from their second tour in the army and wanted to settle back in their hometown.  

Steve and James were hospitable to you, especially when they first met you. Steve was the one to meet you and speak with you at first, but he handed you off to James, or Bucky as he asked you to call him, because he was the artist at their shop that specialized in more of what you were looking for in terms of style. 

As far as first tattoo conversations go, you and Bucky got to know each other pretty well in one session. The tattoo itself took less than an hour, but it felt like Bucky was... prolonging it in a way, like he wanted to keep you there longer.

As you swung open the door of the shop, you were greeted by their piercer, Natasha. 

“Hey, back for another already?” She smirks from her spot behind the desk. While she wasn’t piercing, she usually worked the front if there was no one else free.

Your first tattoo had been done by Bucky, and you instantly fell in love.

With the tattoo. 

Well, Bucky too. Just a little bit.

He was extremely soothing and eased you into the process of tattooing you. He told you when something was going to happen, and as soon as you got used to the feeling of the needle against your skin. 

The more he talked to you, the less pain you felt. It was already not that painful, but you almost forgot about it with him talking to you. When he looked up to you as he finished, you looked like a confused puppy.

“Okay, all done, doll.” Bucky looked up at you, moving to turn off his machine.

“Oh... that was fast.” You furrowed your brows.

“Well, yeah, we moved pretty fast since it was a pretty small piece.” He explains, grabbing a paper towel and the anti-bacterial spray.

“Do you mind if I take a quick picture of it? I usually do, for my portfolio.” Bucky asks, inspecting the tattoo closely once again.

“Oh, yeah, that’s fine.” You wait for him to pull out his camera, take the picture, and he comes back with a piece of plastic film in his hand.

“Okay, so this saniderm has to stay on for about three days. This is how it’ll heal, and when you take it off just wash it up with a gentle soap and use a cream without any fragrance or any of that crap. I can give you a little of that spray if you wanna use it to clean it up if you ever feel like it’s dirty.” Bucky explains, giving you a mini bottle of the antibacterial spray.

“Thank you,” you say, moving to sit up in the chair. “How much do I owe you?”

“Uh, just about $40.” Bucky says without eye contact, heading to the computer at the front counter.

“$40? That’s it? When I signed the waiver it said the shop minimum was $75...?” You wonder out loud.

“Let’s just say you get a special discount, doll.” He smirks, typing something into the computer and only sparing you a glance.

“O-Oh. Alright.” You say sheepishly, handing him your credit card.

“Okay, you’re all set. Hopefully I’ll see you again soon.” He tells you with a gentle smile. It really contrasted his aura; a big, beefy guy with a metal prosthetic arm, covered in probably hundreds of tattoos. But here he was, smiling like sunshine.

“I think I will be. Have a nice day, Bucky.” 

“You too, sweetheart.” He gives you that smirk again, making you feel like you might actually pass out. And not because you just had a needle jabbed into your skin for almost an hour.

“Uh, I already talked to Bucky for my session today. I know I’m a bit early, I can wait if he’s still working on someone else.” You tell Natasha with a smile.

“Sure, let me get you your waiver.” She says, and you plop down into one of the chairs at the front and pulling out your book to pass time after filling out the form.

After a few minutes, Bucky emerges with a girl from his little tattooing corner.

You hear his voice first, looking up from the book while he talks to her.

“Okay, since this was your first piece and pretty small, I’ll only charge ya $55 for it, doll.” Bucky tells the girl with a smile, and you immediately feel a pang in your chest.

You didn’t want to say you were jealous, but goddamn it, your breathing became just a little more shallow at the sight you were currently witnessing.

Even Natasha and Steve turned their heads to him, confused looks on both of their faces.

“Oh! Y/N, you’re here! C’mon back, I’m sure Nat already set you up with your waiver.” You nod, not saying a word as you follow him to the familiar chair.

“So, are we still doing what we discussed on the phone?” Bucky asks, setting up his area to tattoo you.

“Actually, I was thinking something different.” You say sharply.

“Different?” The shock is evident on his features. 

“Yeah. Different. Just want a little something on my collarbone.” You say, sitting down. 

“O-Okay... what were you thinking of?” He asks, pulling out his sketchbook.

“I want an olive branch, going from here to here.” You show him where you want it to start and end. It was a bit of a stretch right across the left side of your chest. “Something simple and minimal. I’ve been thinking of starting the top of my sleeve, this might be a good way to transition into it.” You say nonchalantly.

“Uhm... alright. How does this look?” Bucky asks, showing you his sketch. “I would, of course, add more detail to your liking, just let me know.” 

“Yeah, I want some more shading, please.” You say shortly. You honestly weren’t trying to be mean, but you were irritated.

But in the end, you really had no right to be. 

After almost ten sessions with Bucky, he hasn’t made any indication that he likes you the way you like him.

Sure, he calls you pet names, but he does that to everyone. Even discounts. You weren’t special. He was just being nice and doing his job.

So honestly, you had to cut the act here.

“Are you sure this is what you want? Are you saving the other design for our next session?” Bucky asks, growing more and more concerned with your odd behavior. Usually you would talk to him about your day, how work was, really anything. 

“I don’t know. I think I might ask Steve to do that one instead.” You say out of spite, more than anything. You would never take a design that Bucky made specially for you to another person to tattoo on you, even if it was his own business partner.

“Wha- Why? Did I do something? You’ve been acting really weird today...” Bucky questions you carefully. “Talk to me, doll. Did you have a bad day at work?”

But that, that right there, was your breaking point. Doll. 

“No, I’m fine. Let’s just get this done.” You huff, laying down after nodding to the sketch that Bucky drew out. 

Bucky’s brows furrowed even further, but didn’t ask any more questions. He laid down the stencil and asked if the placement was alright. You looked in the mirror he handed you and nodded briefly. 

The entire time Bucky had the machine in his hand, neither of you spoke a word. He tried to make brief conversation, but you only responded with a hum or nod. 

When he finally finished up, you got up and headed to the counter without a word after looking at the finished tattoo in the mirror. 

Your face was blank, emotionless, and Bucky was truly lost. 

After you paid the full price of your piece, you walked out of the shop, not even sparing anyone a glance. 

Once you left, the shop was dead silent. Everyone either just finished up with a client or didn’t have any at the moment, and the shop was blanketed in an extremely uncomfortable silence.

“What the hell was that, man?” Sam’s voice broke the silence, making Bucky’s head snap towards him. 

“I-I... I have no idea. She was acting so...so weird today.” Bucky looked more confused than ever.

“You’re an idiot, you know that?” Natasha’s voice cuts through the palpable silence.

“Wh- What the hell did I do? I asked her too, and she didn’t give me an answer...” Bucky mumbles.

“Do you like her?” She fires back with a fire in her eyes.

“W-Well, yeah. She’s a regular.” Bucky answers, looking at his fiddling hands.

“Not like that, you dunce. You know what I mean, don’t act dumb.” Natasha rolls her eyes.

Bucky sighs, not making eye contact yet again.

“I-... I do like her.” He says. “But I don’t think she feels the same.” 

“Jesus fucking Christ... You really are a dumbass.” Sam sighs out.

Steve snorts at his words, nodding in agreement.

“Buck, she got jealous.” He explains, shaking his head at his best friend’s obliviousness.

“J-Jealous? Of what?” Bucky scoffs in shock.

“That girl you had right before her. Gave her a discount, called her pet names. The whole shabang.” Natasha points out to him. “Also, you gotta stop giving out discounts like that. You’ll lose more money than you’re makin’.” Natasha scoffs. 

“Wh- But... She never said anything...?” Bucky thinks back to all the times you’ve sat in his chair. You never made any indication that you were outwardly interested in him.

“I think she said enough today without actually saying much.” Steve laughs. His friend was a real idiot.

“I... But, why didn’t she say anything before?” Bucky asked.

“Buck, you never said anything either. I guess that when she heard you talk to that girl like that, she thought you really didn’t like her like that at all. You treated that girl the same way you treat her.” Natasha explains to Bucky, who had a look of realization on his face.

“But... I was just... being nice...” He says with his head in his hands. 

“Well, now she thinks you do that with all you clients, so...” Sam says, making the brunet’s head shoot up.

“Fuck. Fuck. I fucked up everything!” He exclaims. “I-I do like her!” 

“Well, don’t tell us that, tell her!” Sam shouts back to him, and before Bucky can process, he’s pulling out his phone and dialing your phone number.

“C’mon, pick up, pick up,” He mumbles repeatedly, but the call goes to voicemail. “Fuck.”

“Not pickin’ up?” Steve questions, coming to the front and picking up the shop phone. “Gimme her number, she’s doesn’t have to shop saved to her phone, right?” 

“No, I don’t think she does.” Bucky says, watching as Steve dials your number.

“Hello?” Your voice sounds annoyed as it filters through the phone. “Who’s this?” 

“Uh, Y/N! Hi!” Steve speaks, looking at Bucky in a panic, his facial expression screaming, ‘talk to her!’ 

“Steve? What’s up?” You ask, wondering what he needed. 

“You uhh... you forgot your book here!” He blurts out, trying to find an excuse, but quickly found one upon seeing your book resting on the seat where you were waiting. 

“O-Oh... I guess I’ll just turn around. I’ll be there in a few. Thanks, Steve.” You say, ready to hang up.

“O-Okay. Bye, Y/N.” He clears his throat, hanging up. “You have like, ten minutes to get your shit together and talk to her when she gets here. Good luck.” Steve pats Bucky on the shoulder, ready to haul Natasha and Sam to the back to give you two some privacy.

Bucky thought that this was the longest ten minutes of his life, and he was trying to conjure up a speech in his head to confess to you.

Finally, when you did appear through the doors, you looked lost. You only saw Bucky, which made you even more aggravated from the fact that you had to turn back around.

You were ready to head home and wallow in peace, but alas, you wanted your book. 

Bucky just watched as you picked up the book from his grasp across the desk, your eyes not meeting his while he kept his gaze on you very intently. 

Just as you turned around to leave, Bucky’s voice cut through the unbearable silence.

“Y/N?” He simply asks, and you feel like the wind’s been knocked out of your lungs at the sound of his small voice. This wasn’t the Bucky you knew and... loved.

“Yes, James?” You simply respond, and Bucky cringes at the sound of his first name being used. 

“Can I talk to you for a second?”

“...Why? Is everything alright?” And although your voice didn’t give it away, you felt your heart drop to your stomach. Any possible scenario popped into your head. He has a girlfriend. He’s gonna tell you he doesn’t wanna see you anymore. He-

“E-Everything’s fine, doll. Just wanted to tell you that... That I...” Bucky’s voice sounded strained, like there was something caught in his throat.

“Bucky, just spit it out.” You say, wanting to leave already.

“It’s just- I like you. A lot. And I’m so sorry for earlier with that other client. I was just trying to be nice, but I realized how that looked to you, and I never thought anything of it because I didn’t know if you liked me back or-” Bucky was rambling, and your eyes were wide as saucers.

“Bucky, Bucky stop. Let me talk before you drive your own head in with conclusions,” you say, resting your hand on top of his on the desk.

“I like you a lot, too. I didn’t think you like me either because of that girl before me. You just- you treated her the same way you treated me, and I got jealous. I know I didn’t have the right to be, but it just made me think that... that you didn’t feel the same way about me, that I was just another client to you. I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions, and also for being kind of a bitch to you...” Now you were the one rambling, your hands flying all over the place in explanation.

“D-Doll, I never wanted to make you feel that way. I’m sorry, too. I should’ve told you before, before I almost blew everything with you that we’ve been building these past months.” He says placing one large tattooed hand and one metal hand on the sides of your face. “But I’m not gonna miss my chance again. Y/N, would you like to go on a date with me?”

“I-I would love to, Bucky. Took you long enough to ask me.” You giggle, holding onto the hands on your face.

“Yeah, well, I’m kind of an idiot, if you haven’t already noticed.” He laughs, gazing into your eyes with a look that almost turned you to mush in his hands. 

“Do... do ya wanna go now?” You ask, nodding your head to the door.

“Sure, let me go grab my jacket from the back.” He tells you, and you nod, watching as he keeps his eyes on you until he disappears to the back.

“My man, who would’ve thought you’d finally man up?” Sam ridicules him as soon as Bucky appears.

“Dude, shut up. I got a date to get to, see you losers later.” He rolls his eyes, moving back out where you’re smiling at him.

“Ready, angel?” Bucky asks, slipping his hand into yours.

“Ready, handsome.” You reply, and as soon as you step out into the fall air, you plant a kiss on his cheek. “Where to, lover boy?”

[magnoliabloomfield]

Possession

Chapter 1: The Princess Arrives

Structure. Maybe it was because he was a builder that he liked that word so much. He built structures, he knew how make four walls and a roof that wouldn’t come down on anyone’s head, he knew how to build a seat that wouldn’t give out under anyone’s weight, and he knew how to maintain it all and make it last. The small world he lived in demanded order and structure for everyone’s well being. Without it they would be sleeping on the ground, starving, and losing their minds. And if one cog in that machine didn’t turn as it should it affected every other part. Yes, the Glade had to be a well oiled machine functioning everyday as it should.

Thankfully there were no outside forces that tried to thwart that. The doors opened in the morning, they closed at night, and the box came every month. You could tell time by the Glade and its unchanging rhythm. After three years Gally knew it like his own heartbeat. He knew the answer to every problem that could crop up in his bit of the machine. He was good enough to be the Keeper of the builders at least. Maybe that’s why it hit him hardest of all.

Box day came like all the others before it, predictable and precise. But then the heart of the Glade skipped a beat and Gally’s own did too for the first time. Because in that box was something they would never recover from.

A girl.

That was the worst thing that ever could have come up in the box. The boys would lose their minds, they’d become distracted and competitive and the machine of the Glade would come to a rusty, grinding halt. Gally could see the writing on the walls: this was going to be bad.

She wasn’t awake, she was laying there almost peacefully and all the gladers remained eerily and unexpectedly silent, like they were waiting for someone to jump out and say it was all a joke and take her away, or if they stared at her long enough the mirage would fizzle out and it actually would be a boy like it was supposed to be. Alby and Newt carefully lowered themselves into the box so they wouldn’t startle her and Newt hesitantly checked for a pulse, letting out a breath as he nodded to say she was alive. Gally ran a hand over his mouth, feeling anxious but not wanting to look it.

She woke up slowly from a sleep she didn’t know she’d fallen into. Her eyes stared straight up at the sky before they started to focus on things like Newt and Alby and a whole crowd of boys looming above her. Gally waited for the scream, for the crying, shuck, even boys had screamed and cried when they came up. But she didn’t. She tried to sit up and winced, placing her palm over her eye and rubbing like her head hurt.

“You’re okay,” Newt said to her from where he knelt beside her.

“Do you remem-“ Alby started to ask her but was silenced by her holding up one finger.

“Just… give me a minute,” she requested as she pressed both palms to her forehead and brought her knees up toward her chest.

“Sure, no rush,” Newt assured her softly, earning a small glare from Alby who was more impatient and less coddling than him.

“Enough gawking, if you’re not a keeper get back to work,” Alby ordered the boys standing around whispering to each other and stifling giggles behind their fists.

Gally narrowed his eyes and shook his head at them. Weak willed hormonal morons. They were all shucking doomed. Slowly the boys began to shuffle off, the ones catching Gally’s glare wiping the smirks from their faces and moving even faster. He sighed to himself knowing their work was going to suck if it got done at all.

Gally stood around with the other keepers, his arms crossed as they all waited for whatever would happen next. The girls hands came away from her face and she held one out in front of her, seeing the tremors running through it and making it shake before she clutched her knees and took a deep breath.

“Okay… now, what?” she sighed, looking up at Newt and Alby, her eyes squinting in the sun.

She was cute, of course she was cute, she couldn’t ruin their lives if she wasn’t cute, Gally thought to himself as he looked away from her.

“Do you remember anything?” Newt asked her nicely.

She zoned out on the middle ground ahead of her and let a breath out through her lips. “Water is wet, the sky is blue, that kind of stuff. I can’t even remember my name,” She said, her shaking hands pushing her hair back from her face as that realization set in.

“It’s ok, it’s alright,” Newt did a good job of keeping her calm. “That happens to everyone who comes here. Sad to say that’s normal. Most of us eventually remember our names at some point though, so don’t worry too much.”

“So if I were to ask you where we are and why we’re here you wouldn’t even know?” she asked as she turned to him, causing him to rock back on his heels a little bit.

“Unfortunately that is correct,” Alby spoke up, earning her attention. “But we will tell you everything we do know, starting with the fact that… you’re the very first girl to come here in three years. So we kind of have a lot to talk about.”

She squinted up at him for a beat before asking “Am I dreaming?”

“I bet you would think being the only girl in a crowd of boys would be a dream,” one of the other keepers said, drawing those eyes of hers to him.

“Nightmares are dreams too,” she pointed out.

Gally felt the corner of his mouth twitch like he might have chuckled at that.

She got out of the box on her own, climbing onto a drum of drinking water and then the rest of the way. Alby and Newt took a hand to get out and Gally figured the girl wasn’t keen on being touched just yet if ever. They let her have her way. They set off for the gathering room, the girl carefully encircled by the keepers to either keep her from running off or keep anyone from running up to her. Alby yelled for someone to go unload the rest of the box and the girl flinched.

She wasn’t as short as Gally expected a girl would be, but of course she was a lot shorter than him. At least not all the boys were that much taller than her which might tip things in her favor slightly if anything were to happen. Gally would have to pay attention to how intimidating he was now. It was never an issue with the boys, it was quite essential in fact. If they weren’t a little scared of someone then nothing would get done. But just looking at her he could tell that he absolutely could overpower her without breaking a sweat, and she would most definitely put that together too, so he had to make sure he never gave her a reason to think he actually would.

They started the gathering with the basic Greenie intro to the Glade. This was usually handled by one person who took the greenie on a tour around the Glade, but this was not the usual greenie. Gally was actually glad she was out of sight of the boys who were supposed to be working.

He rested his elbows on his knees to keep his leg from jumping nervously as Alby and Newt explained the basics and each keeper explained what they did. Gally kept his eyes down, unintentionally staring through the spot where her feet were. As the builder he was running through all the work he would have to do, he’d have to build a safe place for her to sleep and wash up, how exactly was he going to do that, he’d never had to do that before. When Alby called his name he was almost startled. He looked around and found everyone looking back at him, including the girl. It must be his turn.

“I’m in charge of the builders. Pretty self explanatory,” he stated, holding her gaze for as long as he could manage. It wasn’t long.

“You’ve been surprisingly quiet, Gally,” Newt pointed out, looking at him curiously.

Gally didn’t like the attention. “Well, I am the one who has to do the most about this situation,” he pointed out. “Yes, she needs her introduction to this place, but while you’re telling it to her I’m sitting here thinking of how I’m going to build a safe place for her to sleep and to wash up. I’m thinking up the plans now so I can get to work first light and just maybe she’ll have a place to sleep by sundown tomorrow. So what are we going to do for her tonight?”

Alby pinched the bridge of his nose as his face scrunched up, realizing that they had lot of work ahead of them. When Gally had finished his rant he thought the girl was sitting a little smaller in her seat.

“The gardening shed,” Newt blurted. “Remember the time the rakes fell over? We couldn’t get in, you had to take the door off. There’s no windows either. It’s not the best accommodations but on short notice at least it’s a place where no one can get in.”

Gally had started nodding, remembering exactly what Newt was talking about and it was a good idea, at least for one night. “We’ll move out some of the tools and put a cot in,” Gally thought aloud.

“She can take mine,” Minho volunteered.

“Are you sure? Aren’t you running tomorrow?” Newt pointed out.

“Yeah,” Minho shrugged. “Maybe one of the other runners will let me use his cot, but I can’t volunteer anyone else’s but my own. Besides, it’ll be one night, two tops with Gally working on it.”

Gally was surprised to hear him say something vaguely nice about him. But most of all he was planning, drawing blueprints in his mind of the safest, most anti-boy structure he could possibly make. He was going to put the Princess in the tower.

@poulterholland @anniemylennox @crazysheeplyca @thesuitkovian @Poulterjonas @gladerscake @carp3d1em @neilox

If any of you don't actually want to be tagged in the future just let me know, I was just trying to remember the ones who were really interested in the last short Gally series I wrote.

Possession Masterlist

[pillage-and-lute]

@thequeeninyellowlace requested “ Geraskier discovering that angry, testy Lambert is actually a big kitten? ❤️❤️”

Warning: some derogatory language, especially anti-sex work slang (although all the witchers are canonically pro-sex work)

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“I can’t believe you brought your bard to the keep,” Lambert groused. It was the same complaint he’d had all week, ever since Geralt arrived with Jaskier in tow.

“He’s my bard, this is my home,” Geralt said. “I wanted to bring him here.”

Lamberts stood, slamming his mug on the dinner table and glaring at Jaskier. “You wanted a whore to warm your bed in the winter.”

“No,” Jaskier said calmly, turning over a page in the book he’d borrowed from the keep’s library. “Geralt wanted a slut to keep his bed warm in the winter. That’s me.”

“I don’t see a difference,” Lambert growled.

“Lambert c’mon,” Eskel groaned. “This is getting old.”

“The difference,” Jaskier said, speaking over the scarred wolf but not looking up from his book. “Is that I love Geralt very much and I fuck him for free.”

Lambert stormed out, presumably to go throw things about in the armory. Geralt pressed a kiss into Jaskier’s hair.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “He’s not good with change.”

“It’s okay, dear heart, I’m sure he’ll warm up to me.”

Eskel stood and began clearing the dinner dishes. “Good luck with that,” he said.

Vesemir smiled across at Geralt and Jaskier, who were sitting so closely entwined. It was good to see his reclusive pup happy, and he had an idea what had gotten under Lambert’s skin. Before he retired to the library, Vesemir paused, resting a hand on Jaskier’s shoulder. 

“I’m glad you’re here.”

Jaskier smiled in return.

-- -- -- -- -- -- 

Some days later the younger wolves were relaxing in the hot springs after training. Vesemir had well and truly put them through their paces and their muscles needed a good, long soak. 

Jaskier appeared, looking almost as beat as they felt. He’d been tending the handful of sheep and two goats that Vesemir kept, mending their fence today. In the cold, with the animals butting in and distrustful, it was hard, slow work. He slid in beside Geralt with a sigh.

Lambert huffed, but, exhausted, wasn’t about to leave the hot springs. Eskel eyed him in amusement.

Geralt, to the shock of everyone but himself and Jaskier, curled himself in and rested his head on Jaskier’s shoulder. Jaskier didn’t even blink and instead reached around and began stroking Geralt’s back and shoulders soothingly. This continued for a few minutes, the other wolves watching a little dumbly. Then Geralt pressed a light kiss to Jaskier’s collar bone and turned around on the ledge, resting his arms out of the bath. Jaskier took this in his stride too and began firmly kneading out the knots between Geralt’s shoulder blades. 

Lambert saw the difference now. Jaskier wasn’t a whore, because even the best paid ones wouldn’t touch so...reverently. They didn’t gentle the tension out of scarred skin and pull the knots from muscles. He shot a glance at Eskel, who was watching with the same half envy half hunger that he felt.

Then Jaskier just got up and walked over to a basket settled next to the wall. He and Geralt had brought that too, it had soaps and oils in it. Jaskier hesitated for a moment, then he picked up the whole basket and brought it to the edge of the hot spring. 

He settled back in, seemingly unaware of the eyes on him, and handed Geralt a bar of soap. It was the usual pale yellow-white color for soap, but Vesemir made all his soap in a big vat and it smelled to high heaven and cleaned by taking a layer of skin off every time it was used. This stuff smelled nice.

“Chamomile,” Eskel said, sniffing. “And bergamot?” 

“Very good,” Jaskier said. “It’s Geralt’s favorite.”

Geralt having a favorite soap was news to his brothers, but they didn’t comment. Jaskier poured a little oil into his hands, but it was mixed with soap or something, because he rubbed it into a bit of a lather and began to work it through Geralt’s hair. 

Geralt reacted like a pampered housecat, arching back into the touch and humming as Jaskier worked. The bard seemed to be doing something of a scalp massage while cleaning and the wolves heard a rumble start up in Geralt’s chest.

It wasn’t purring, not exactly. But all witchers could do it, only when they were truly relaxed of course. It was a whole chest rumble that always seemed to soak into their bones. Lambert scowled. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d purred.

Eventually, with Geralt boneless against the side of the pool, Jaskier finished, rinsing the suds from snow white hair and kissing the back of Geralt’s head.

“Alright,” Jaskier said, pulling two more bars of soap from his basket. “Pick one, each of you.”

“What?” Lambert said. 

“I brought five types of soap, Geralt told me about what you all have up here. So I brought his and mine, and one for each of you. Vesemir already picked his.”

“Did he?” Geralt asked.

“Yes dear heart, he gave me the tour the other day, picked that fig and goat’s milk one I brought”

“Hmmm,” Geralt replied, seemingly fast asleep.

Obediently, and somewhat hypnotized, Eskel and Lambert leaned forward to sniff each soap bar. 

The first made Eskel’s nose crinkle, and he quickly moved on to the second one, but Lambert lingered. The first one was nice. 

It was slightly green, which was weird, but it was nice.

They each picked the one they wanted and Jaskier smiled. “Excellent,” he said. “Now let me wash your hair.”

“Geralt,” Lambert said, immediately on edge. “Your bard is trying to fuck us.”

“My bard,” the white wolf answered drowsily, “Is trying to help you. Be nice.”

“You first,” Lambert muttered to Eskel. Eskel just shrugged and let Jaskier work on his back, settling in to a very similar position to the one Geralt had taken. He let out a few grunts as the bard worked skilled fingers into the cords of muscle on either side of his spine, but they certainly didn’t sound pained. Eskel even chatted quietly with Geralt as Jaskier worked. Then, obediently, he let Jaskier wash his hair.

“The soap you picked is oat and lavender,” the bard said. “So I have lavender oil for your hair, but tell me if it’s too strong, we can use something else.”

Eskel sniffed as Jaskier poured some of the faintly purple liquid into his palm. “Smells fine,” he said. Jaskier smiled, humming faintly as he worked it into Eskel’s hair, commenting a few times on how well kept it was. 

“Geralt always let’s his turn into a rat’s nest whenever I’m away.”

That made Eskel and Lambert raise their eyebrows. Geralt had always been meticulous about his hair, more so than was practical for a witcher. Eyebrows raised further when he blushed slightly and avoided their gaze.

The scalp massage continued and, to Lambert’s complete surprise, Eskel began to purr quietly. Jaskier smiled, but not mockingly or cruelly, and continued his work.

Eventually Jaskier finished with Eskel’s hair and then looked towards Lambert questioningly. “I don’t have to wash your hair if you’d rather I didn’t,” he said. “But I like doing it, and I think you’d like it too.”

“Let him, Lamb,” Geralt grunted before Lambert could say anything. 

“I was going to,” he grumbled as he turned around. 

The first press of hands into his back nearly burned. 

Money was scarce on the Path, even with Toss a Coin playing in every tavern. This year had been harsh on many of the villages Lambert passed through too, and they paid him what they could. 

Sometimes he was in the business of returning most or all of the payment, if things were bad.

All that to say, there had been no prostitutes, or bed mates of any kind, all year. Maybe one or two the year before that. Apart from his brothers, who he sparred with and got drunk with, almost no one touched him.

Jaskier touched him like being afraid of him was a foreign concept. Calloused fingers found every knot and point of tension and worked them out. Lambert felt like dough under a rolling pin.

“Where did you learn this?” he wondered aloud. “And why?”

Jaskier chuckled, digging his fingers into Lambert’s neck as he did so in a way that should have set off alarm bells but instead just sent electricity down his spine. “See,” Jaskier said. “I spent my time at university working for a bathhouse to make extra money-well, it was mostly a brothel but it offered baths. I just warmed up towels and sliced soap.”

“Mmmhm,” Lambert said, feeling his mind numb under the onslaught of touch.

“And one of the older women there, Rosie, lovely lady, taught me to make soap and find the right ones. Also taught me about massage, not the happy ending kind, that education I got elsewhere, but good information.”

It must have been, Lambert thought. It felt like Jaskier’s hands were touching his soul through his skin. 

Then Jaskier moved on to his hair. 

Lambert let the feeling wash over him as gentle fingers kneaded into his head, taking away headaches he hadn’t known were there. Manicured fingernails scratched lightly at his scalp. 

It was so good.

It was so nice to be touched when it wasn’t sex or sparring. It felt like a balm on Lambert’s soul and he’d been so jealous. Geralt had brought the bard and gotten all the touch he could want and left Eskel and Lambert without, but he was sharing this. It was like honey inside his brain. To his shame Lambert felt his eyes prickle. 

Witchers could cry. Their eyes didn’t tear up with wind, dust, or pain as much, because that could compromise their eyesight in battle, but emotion could bring tears. 

“It’s okay,” Geralt whispered, although not so low that Jaskier wouldn’t hear. “He won’t judge you.”

“I did too, a little,” Eskel said. Had he? Lambert hadn’t noticed. He let tears fall mixing with the moisture from the steam on his face. Jaskier reached around to get more oil and one landed on his hand, so he brushed a thumb down the tear track on Lambert’s face.

It could have, should have felt either patronizing or romantic. It wasn’t. It was just intimate. Gentle, intimate, platonic touch. Lambert began to cry a little harder. 

Geralt sidled over and leaned against him, pressing their shoulders together. Eskel joined in on the other side so that Lambert was sandwiched between his older brothers. 

They sat like that until Jaskier rinsed out Lambert’s hair.

He’d taken longer on the wash, Lambert noted, even though he had the least hair of the three of them. He was grateful for it. 

Eskel and Lambert watched as Geralt washed Jaskier’s hair, passing Geralt the bottle of oil--mint, to go with the mint and honey soap Jaskier favored--whenever Geralt needed it.

Lambert realised he was purring, and wondered how long he’d been doing it, but he had a pretty good idea.

[hologramcowboy]

What I find so interesting about Danneel antis is that almost all of them have experiences dealing with someone with narcissistic personality disorder and find her behavior alarmingly similar. I know that’s what set alarm bells off for me, she reminds me a lot of my mother (confirmed narcissist by a professional). I didn’t care about her for a long time, she was just the wife of an actor I liked and is unrecognizable from her One Tree Hill days so I didn’t even make the connection that she was on one of my favorite shows. But she kept getting shoved in the SPN fandoms face, so I ended up having to pay attention to her despite originally not caring. Only the Ackles attempts to raise Danneel’s status by using Jensen’s fans/SPN fans backfired on them. Why? Because instead of thinking “wow, she’s so cool and pretty! What a beautiful couple, I wish them all the success in the world,” I thought that something was off with her and their whole relationship. And I wasn’t alone in that. At first I brushed it off as internalized misogyny. That maybe I thought her and her marriage were sketchy because she’s not a very attractive or successful women and she married a handsome man. But that feeling of something not being right stayed with me. So I decided to do some research, no one wants to dislike a random “celebrity” (for lack of a better word) that they’ll never meet. It very quickly became clear that she is not a good person, has narcissistic tendencies and is in what appears to be a horrible marriage.

I’ve yet to see a Danneel anti who wasn’t level headed, reasonable and focused on evidence rather than baseless rumors. Everyone on this side of Tumblr seems to have a good head on their shoulders, and it’s so enjoyable to be apart of the discussions we have here. I know we’re in a bit of a sketchy crossroads situation right now because we’re all waiting with baited breath to see if Danneel will succeed in using Supernatural as her cash cow and Chaos Machine Productions to relaunch her career. Hopefully this plot fails like every plot before it, and regardless of what the outcome of this Thursdays virtual press tour at least we’ll have a lot of material to talk about!

Sorry you went through that experience with your mom, having a narcissistic parent can be so twilight zone at times because people can't relate, what narcissist says remains so lodged inside it keeps creating wounds even years after an episode. I can spot one from a mile away due to my own personal experience with a relative. Unfortunately, narcissist can rarely, if ever, be treated so it's the family members that end up in therapy to deal with the inflicted wounds which sometimes cause bulimia, anorexia, self destructive tendencies, just a couple of examples.

You definitely were not alone in that perception of Danneel and I fully agree, I see so many balanced opinions on antiblogs, people joke and exaggerate for entertainment but they never cross lines in real life like Elta stannies do. Plus, the antis focus on real situations and they can express their opinions, the real opinions. As opposed to most Elta stans who think however they think Danneel will approve and that in itself is scary.

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

Could you talk about the Statute of Secrecy? Or the Ministry’s corruption in General :)

Well, those are two different things. Given that I believe I have an ask floating somewhere in my inbox on the Statute, I suppose we’ll talk about the Ministry of Magic today.

I feel like this is such a broad topic though that I’m not quite sure where to start. I guess I’ll just throw spaghetti at the internet wall and see what sticks.

The Ministry is a Reflection of Society Who Never Admitted They Were the Death Eaters

In the ministry of Harry Potter’s era the Ministry is hopelessly corrupt and filled to the brim with spies (more on this in a later section). Lucius Malfoy, very high up in an unofficial capacity in the Ministry and owner of the Ministry’s mouth piece: The Daily Prophet, was a known Death Eater with a very flimsy excuse.

How is he even able to wield so much influence, you ask? Well, I think it’s not just because of Fudge picking the wrong friends.

I think most the population probably does believe Lucius Malfoy is innocent the way Fudge does. I think it’s a very small subsection, i.e. Dumbledore’s lackies, who go “Nah, ain’t buying it.” I think that, in 1981, when it came time to reveal just how many were Death Eaters and how far this went many people just couldn’t handle it.

Because it was to the point where the nation wasn’t battling Death Eaters, Death Eaters were the nation. Look at the members, these are and were the most influential and prominent families in the country, who combined hold a non-small minority of seats in the Wizengamot. More, these were only the participants, combine those who given anti-muggle and muggleborn sentiment (which I believe are pervasive even among those who claim they fight for the rights of muggles and muggleborns) and you get a nation that is suddenly facing a huge cultural issue that was never previously acknowledged.

We’re talking an entire purge of the Wizengamot, of the Ministry, of the major families and cornerstones of this society. The Black family is completely and utterly destroyed.

People were and remain throughout the 1990′s, desperate to believe it was not as bad as it was or isn’t as bad as it is. If Lucius Malfoy says he was never really a Death Eater then he was never really a Death Eater.

The Ministry is Lousy With Corruption and Spies

What’s hilarious to me is not only is the Ministry incompetent. It is positively flooded with spies. Given the ministry’s overbloated, it’s not even a sizeable minority of employees, but nonetheless every major department has at least one person (if not more) who works for somebody else.

Most work for Tom Riddle. He seems to have intelligence in every department. Through Lucius, who is working pretty much as an unofficial aide to Fudge, he has access to Fudge, complete control of the Daily Prophet, and a voice on the Hogwarts’ board of governors.

Through Rockwood, Tom has direct access to the Department of Mysteries which Lucius is then able to take full advantage of.

Lucius is able to set up an ambush in the Department of Mysteries, getting escaped convicts into the building with the none the wiser, and, had his sole purpose not been a prophecy that only Harry Potter and the Dark Lord can touch, he would have been able to take what he liked. (Though it was always odd to me that the plan was to get Harry Potter to do it, when the better solution would have been to polyjuice Tom Riddle into someone else, set up a tour with the department, and then Tom wanders off conveniently to pick up the prophecy. My theory, I suppose, is that chasing after the prophecy was mostly an exercise in punishing Lucius. And then Lucius fucked up.)

And of course, in book seven, Tom Riddle makes a puppet minister. Point being, to me, it always said a lot that in Book Seven Tom just sort of walks into the building and says, “I’m in charge now” and everyone says “okay”. There was no second Wizarding War, it was a bloodless coup that met zero resistance from anyone but angry school children. 

But that’s Tom’s spies, we also have other spies. Who am I talking about, Dumbledore’s folks of course.

Shacklebolt, Moody, Tonks, and Arthur Weasley are all spies, they just don’t have the introspection to even realize it (which really tells you something about the state of corruption in the ministry). They all work for the ministry, yes, but they in fact pass on information to and serve another master, whose goals do not always align with the government and was a hop skip and a jump away from overthrowing the government at any given moment.

And they don’t even really realize they’re doing this! There doesn’t even seem to be a thought of “I’m doing this for the greater good”, they don’t seem to acknowledge that what they’re doing is very very very bad. Arthur, in fact, is appalled when Percy refuses to do this (well, he’s upset for a lot of reasons, such as that he thinks Percy is spying on Arthur for the minister, but in there is also that Percy refuses to help out with the Order or follow Dumbledore without question). 

Harry paints the Dumbledore’s Army threat that Umbridge saw as something utterly ridiculous, but honestly if I was the ministry I would be worried about this. Dumbledore’s people have infiltrated the ministry just as deeply and badly as the Death Eaters, Dumbledore’s known for recruiting children into his vigilante organization, I don’t know what he’s doing with an army of schoolchildren but I can smell a coup coming.

Anyway, I’m getting off track, point being though that corruption is not only expected and accepted by the ministry, they cannot recognize what it even is. They’re at the point where paying bribes is allocated in their budget.

I Don’t Blame the Ministry For Not Thinking Tom Riddle Was Anti-Jesus

Fudge is designed to get a lot of flack for his outright denial that Voldemort had returned from the dead. He, and other denier characters, are meant to be fools with their heads in the sand who can’t see the obvious.

I ask what about it was obvious?

The only witness to Tom Riddle’s resurrection, Harry Potter, has a known history of erratic behavior.

The previous year, he’d performed illegal magic on his muggle aunt and run away from home. During the previous school year, Harry was revealed to be a parselmouth in a time when the Chamber of Secrets was presumably opened and the mystery was never fully solved (remember, that it was a possessed Ginny never comes to light for more than a few people.) Beyond that, since his first day of school, Harry is routinely in and out of detention, constantly out after curfew, and only seems to not be in serious trouble because he’s openly favored by Dumbledore (who gives him hundreds of points for breaking one of his school rules, during the Philosopher’s Stone fiasco in first year). In 1994, Harry is entered into the Tri-Wizard Tournament under very suspicious circumstances.

We know why all this happens to Harry but from the outside he looks like a delinquent. In fact, he kind of is a delinquent. 

Point being, the only witness is not only Harry Potter (who is already sketch) but it’s Harry Potter holding a dead body of a rival in the tournament.

And he’s claiming that a man who has been nearly fifteen years dead, a man who held the nation in terror and Harry Potter is beloved for destroying, has returned from the grave and conveniently murdered Cedric.

Why is Cedric dead? Well, you see, he and Harry both touched the goblet at the same time because they were going to share the reward. The goblet, a national treasure, was turned into a portkey so that Voldemort could kidnap him.

Why didn’t Voldemort just kidnap him at any other point during the year where he’s guaranteed not to get tag a longs or the wrong kid? Uh... VOLDEMORT IS BACK (for the record, I think it’s because Barty got hung up on the goblet scheme and was determined to ruin his father’s day.)

Where is Voldemort at this very moment? Being evil, somewhere, that is not right here. No, Harry has zero evidence this happened.

Frankly, I wouldn’t believe Harry either.

And when Dumbledore goes about promoting this as sound evidence that Tom Riddle has in fact returned, it starts to get even sketchier. Rather than sounding the alarm, Dumbledore is using this boy’s madness to stir the public into a panic that he, perhaps, plans to take advantage of.

After Dumbledore does that, I would suspect that, even if Harry does give me a memory of the graveyard scene that his head had been tampered with by Dumbledore.

And it’s so convenient that, of all the names Harry picked, it’s Voldemort who killed Cedric. It seems like a ploy to not only deflect the fact that he murdered Cedric but 

Harry’s very upset when some don’t take him at his word but Harry’s also a dumbass and a psychopath. He hates everyone who doesn’t agree with him.

More importantly, necromancy isn’t a thing in the Harry Potter universe. People don’t rise from the dead. Horcruxes exist, but they’re extremely rare, and it seems like no one ever really makes use of them.

So, yeah, not unreasonable that Fudge didn’t immediately go, “My god, Voldemort has risen from the dead! LIGHT THE BEACONS AND SUMMON ROHAN!”

So yeah, it’d take me seeing Voldemort waltzing through the Department Mysteries to go “... Goddammit, this man is more unkillable than Sheev Palpatine.”

After the Epilogue, I am Certain It’s Still the Same Damn Ministry

People hate the epilogue, but in a way, I love it, because it confirms many of my headcanons: these people don’t learn a goddamn thing.

Nothing in their society seems to have changed. Instead of one set of families holding all the power it’s now a new set of families and friends holding all the power. The difference being that they are now all in some way connected to Harry Potter.

Nepotism’s still the name of the game, we still see only human children boarding the Hogwarts Express so you know shit hasn’t changed for the goblins, Draco Malfoy’s alive and well and holds a position in the Ministry that Kingsly graciously allows him to have, it’s just now you have Hermione writing all your laws for you.

The Wizarding World is still the Wizarding World in every single capacity. The only difference is that Voldemort is dead again. Hooray.

Harry and friends simply don’t have the introspection to even realize it.