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brockadoodles · 4 years

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Heartbreak and a New Tattoo - w. nylander

AN: Uhhhhhhhh. Definitely didn’t intend on posting a fic tonight but, cranked this out. It started off as meaning to be fluffy and cute but uh, my angsty cold heart said no? I’m trying to be better about writing shorter stuff, so let me know what you think! I’m gonna tag @broadstbroskis and @jasondickinsonss since they’re my resident willy pals.

Word Count: 2653

Warnings: Angst, happy ending though.

No one warned you that you would lose a piece of yourself when you fell in love. They didn’t caution you about how for every good moment, the ones that make your head spin and your heart race, there would be a chip of your own sense of person falling away. They didn’t tell you that after four years with someone, you slip into their habits, nestling tightly into their life. So much so that you aren’t even sure what direction you’re facing, because everything around you was built by him. It wasn’t that William did anything wrong. In fact, he did everything a partner should. His life was logistically a chaotic nightmare, each step felt like he was balancing on a rope, trying to get to the other side. But he was good at it, he always prioritized you, even when it was hard. The only problem was that he didn’t know the very rope he was stuck on was fraying.

It had started small, the cracks between you. The calls during road trips became shorter, less engaged. By the time either of you realized what was happening, it was just two people who once aligned into one breathing on a deadline out of obligation because it felt like that was what you were supposed to do. By the time you realized that the person you thought you were, wasn’t anyone recognizable without William by your side, you irresponsibly thought that it was time to let go. So, you let go of the visions of marriage and a family, of the house you dreamed of building together once things settled down, of the thoughts of the holidays spent together, each one more special than the last. You let it all go, taking a seam ripper to the last bits of thread connecting your souls. You couldn’t decide what hurt worse, the demise of what you thought was forever, or the fact that William didn’t put up a fight as you packed your things and left.

William didn’t know what hit him when you muttered that you were leaving. He was so sure it had to be a mistake, that there had to be some piece of information missing that would fix everything. He felt his chest caving in, the weight of you packing your bags codifying a new language into his head, one that didn’t include you. He spent weeks circling through the last few months before you ended it. Writing down and analyzing every fight, every night spent without talking to each other when he was gone, trying to piece together what moment made you leave. What he could have done to save the very thing that was destined to fall apart no matter how much super glue he tried to stick to it. You needed to find yourself again, and no matter how badly he longed to help you, he needed to let you go.

When William came back into Toronto in September, he was incessantly telling himself that he was doing better, that the fresh season would throw him back into a familiar enough routine that he could finally adjust to life without you. But familiarity breeds nostalgia, and nostalgia controlled the heartbreak he had spent the last few months trying to let go of. It wasn’t until he was back in the apartment that you shared that the resentment stage of his grief had tucked into his heart.

The resentment was the worst part of the breakup. Because he didn’t want to resent anything about you. He had gotten four years to love you as best as he could, and he didn’t want to replace all of the memories of love with a feeling of regret. He didn’t regret loving you, even if it ended the way that it had. He didn’t regret thinking he was going to marry you, and when he finally moved on from the resentment stage of grief, he realized that sometimes you can put your all into someone and they simply might not be able to give you all of it back. He was slowly starting to thread the foundation of a new rope, he was starting to move on. But when he saw you standing there in your dark blue dress, your hair a bit shorter than the last time he had seen you, talking to Steph, he dropped the newly constructed rope off the ledge.

You on the other hand were spending your summer trying to piece together the remaining fragments of your own being, the person who you were before you met William. You were doing okay, as okay as someone could be when they had just ended a four-year relationship with the person that they assumed would be the one. You spent months lying to yourself about being okay. You spent months trying to convince yourself that you didn’t make a mistake, that you didn’t leave because you couldn’t handle being honest with him about how you were feeling.

It was October and you knew he was back in the city. Hockey had started which meant that his presence was now one you actively had to avoid. You took the long way into the city and back home most days, actively avoiding the arena, knowing that being there would be too much. This half-hearted way of living in the city you called home was manageable, until December when you finally had the courage to unpack the remaining boxes from the home you shared together.

You were going through a notebook when it fell out, Mitch and Steph’s wedding invitation from over a year ago now. You picked up the card, eyes welling with the tears you had shoved down for the last six months as you remembered that weekend. The weekend you realized Will was your person.

“I can’t believe you and Mitch are finally getting married.” You hummed to Steph as you slid off your heels and collapsed onto the hotel bed. You had always admired Mitch and Steph, their relationship was one that was the definition of two people who fit together seamlessly, and made the choice to make it work between them. It wasn’t a fairytale or a whirlwind, it was real and raw and you couldn’t be happier as you laid in that hotel bed, dress and makeup still on, half-drunk from the overpriced cocktails that the boys kept flowing after they crashed the bachelorette party, that two of your closest friends were getting married in just two days.

“God, I know. Is it weird I’m not nervous about it at all?” Steph called from around the corner. You stood up, your feet slightly throbbing from being in heels all night and your mind feeling a bit fuzzy from the drinks as you rounded the corner and saw her taking off her makeup in the mirror.

“No, you and Mitch are just right, ya know? It works.” You looked at her hand, eyes shifting to the diamond sitting perfectly on her ring finger, sparkly and bright and perfect for her. You grabbed your phone from the counter where you had left it earlier in the evening, not wanting to bring it out with you while you and the girls celebrated with Steph. You looked at the home screen, a small notification catching your eye as you unlocked the phone and hit play on the voicemail. Steph grabbed the phone from your hand, a knowing smile on her face as she turned the volume on the speaker up, William’s voice filling the small hallway before you had the chance to stop it.

“Hey baby, you’re probably back in the room by now. I just wanted to say that you looked amazing tonight, and I know we can’t be together tonight because of the traditions and all that, but I love you and will be thinking of you.”

Steph handed you the phone back, a stupid smirk evident on her face that you were pretending to ignore. You went back toward your suitcase, sliding the dress off of your body and throwing on one of Willy’s old sweatshirts and a pair of shorts. You sat on the bed, fingers hovering over your phone as you thought of a message to type back to your boyfriend, a smile lingering on your cheeks from his message.

“You know what he said to me the night he met you? Granted, he was shitfaced, but I still think it’s relevant.” Steph smirked as she came around the corner, crawling onto the other side of the bed and turning to face you. You rolled your eyes at her and set your phone down, ignoring her slightly as she started speaking again,

“He told me ‘I’m gonna marry her one day Stephanie, just wait.’”

You let yourself cry over that memory, and for the first time since the breakup, you realized that you were worse off without him, that you had ended something entirely too good for reasons you didn’t understand. You picked up the phone to call more times than you could count, only to set it back down again, torturing yourself with the idea that you had made your decision, and you needed to lay with it.

You were in such a daze when he walked up to you, nerves settling into your stomach at the sight of him. He didn’t look like your Willy anymore, he looked like a hollow version of the man you still were hopelessly in love with, the one that you ultimately played the biggest hand in breaking. You followed him without a word when he asked you if you could talk because the truth was that you would follow William anywhere if it meant that maybe you could get a piece of him back.

It was awkward for a few moments, both of you riddled with nerves, wondering who was going to dare to break first and say what they were truly thinking about. It was agonizing, being so close to him for the first time in such a long time, and it only made your own doubts about leaving him to come back to your chest in full force. William grabbed your hand quickly, threading his fingers through yours before finally speaking, being the first one to crack the eggshells that you were both walking on.

“Do you sleep well without me? Because I don’t. I don’t think I’ve slept since June when you left.” He said, head hanging down as if the words he was speaking were in some way shameful. Your heart wanted to break for him because you had been in the same situation for so long, nights feeling long and empty without him there. But part of you was almost feeling some weird sense of satisfaction at knowing he was hurting just as badly as you. You weren’t surprised he dove right in, head first. It was what he always did. He had known you for so long, there wasn’t a point in dancing around saying he missed you now that he had the chance to tell you so, he had already been doing enough to push it away on his own. He didn’t want to keep pushing something that he was starting to realize wasn’t meant to go away.

“No, willy. I haven’t slept well since we broke up.” You shook your head, opting to tell the truth because up until this point, lying to pretend you were fine had only left you empty, with a broken heart that you didn’t know how to heal.

“I stayed up until 6 am just because at least then if I called you might be awake. I felt like I was watching myself just get worse and worse, and all I wanted was you. I’m not supposed to want you anymore, William.”

“I would have answered, I would always answer.”

“It’s not the same, you know it’s not.” William sighed softly at your words as he let them run in tedious circles through his head. He had spent the better part of the last six months missing you and replaying the events from the summer wondering if you were both wrong for what had happened. Your love story had been like a journey by train, exciting when you’re young and tiring when you get older. It was great until one of you, who could even remember who at this point, had gotten off during a stop and the other one continued on the journey alone and by the time you both reached the final destination, the two different trips couldn’t merge into one anymore. But the problem was that maybe the final destination was all wrong, maybe you were supposed to get off the train because now you could come back together and start a different trip together, one that isn’t tiring when you’re older.

He looked over at you quickly and let his eyes linger on the features of your face, the ones he used to have memorized hidden by the obvious toll the breakup had taken on you, too. He couldn’t help but think about how if he were to take one look in a mirror that he had been avoiding for the past six months, he probably wouldn’t recognize himself either.

“I tried to call you,” he started, voice tentative and unsure as you turned to look at him. Your eyes were blurry, and your mind nearly blacked out at the five words he just spoke. Five words that maybe could change everything, or perhaps they would have if you had seen the call in the first place. You tilted your head softly as William ran his hand through his hair.

“But, your voicemail was full.” You looked away from him, the pain in your chest creeping back in as you took in his second set of five words. Your voicemail, the one that had been filled with messages from him, from times where you were happy, and from drunken nights after the breakup where he sometimes would call and all you would hear on the other end was silence.

“I couldn’t bring myself to delete them, I just wanted a place where I would be able to hear your voice and have it be just for me,” you smiled sadly, letting the tears blur your vision as you stood up. You didn’t know what to do, this all felt suffocating and overwhelming and yet definitive at the same time. This was it, you were either getting William back, or you were letting him go forever. The choice should have been a simple one and yet it was almost more complicated than the initial choice to breakup had been because at least when you did that, you both thought it was what you wanted. Now you were presented with either putting your heart out in the open, tossing it carefully to the person you had known for so long and putting your trust in him to catch it, or you were running the risk of him dropping it and leaving you crumbled on the floor as you tried to pick up the remnants of whatever would be left after a fumble that big.

“I spent Christmas without you, please don’t make me spend New Years without you, too.”

“I don’t want to spend any day without you again.” You whispered, resting your hand on his cheek. William smiled at you and pulled you close into his chest. He tilted your head up and connected his lips to yours, something that you both had spent the last six months missing. You settled into him, feeling your fears melt with each moment that passed. The breakup had left heartache in both of you, but it was necessary to put your real love into permanent ink on both of your chests. A new start, one without heartbreak and with a new tattoo.

#william nylander #william nylander imagine #william nylander fic #william nylander x reader #nhl imagine #nhl fic

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wisteria-lodge · 3 years

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lion primary + badger secondary (bird model)

ie A HOUSE MATCH !!

Hellooo, I’m sorry for bothering you but I’ve found this blog and I absolutely love your character analysis and overall thought about the SHC system, and I could use some help?

I’ve known the system for a while now, since the old SHC tumblr times, and while understanding my current primary situation has been quite easy, I’m having A LOT of trouble with my secondary and it’s becoming a bit of a issue for me because the more I think about it, the more confused I become, to the point where it’s upsetting me a bit.

First thing first, my Primary is a very “standard” Lion, the whole “you feel if something is right or not and if you do something that’s not right to you you feel bad/ill/it’s wrong” is extremely me. I had some doubts about a Badger model, but I think it’s just that my personal ideals and values align a lot with a Badger worldview, since I grew in a very Badger society and family (very leftist, a lot of emphasis on equality and valuing and creating communities). Reading various description/interpretations of primary Lion always feels right, while reading primary Badger always makes me think “yeah, this is all good and nice, BUT…” so this was quite easy to sort out (no pun intended).

Are you me? So far... I could have written this. It’s possible I *might* be biased going forward.

When it comes to secondaries, I see a lot of myself in Bird descriptions: I make spreadsheets for everything.

Pretty Bird.

I am a crafter with an apparently endless supply of books and tutorials and supplies ready, and the enthusiasm to share them.

That sounds more Badger.

I am the mom friend

Badger.

who always has what’s needed in their bag.

Bird.

I am that one person you can count on knowing a funny or interesting anecdote about almost any topic, from the mundane to the truly obscure. Learning new things, about any topic, is literally one of my biggest pleasures in life.

Bird [model?] Whichever one isn’t your secondary is a model you clearly love.

I take pride in all these things, but I honestly have trouble understanding if I like using them as tools because they help me with my ADHD and so I received a very strong positive enforcement using them and I kept the ones I like, or if I started doing them because they are what I like doing and coincidentally they help me managing my symptoms or better navigate the world in my day to day life.

Could be either, but modeling Bird because you’re neurodivergent is very much a thing.

Also, while I love planning, when it comes to making decisions I tend to gather all information and summarize it in a way that makes sense to me so I can visualize the issue in my mind as complete and detailed as possible, but the final decision tends to feel a bit… impulsive, to me?, there’s always A LOT of gut feeling involved, and when I don’t follow it usually it ends up being a wrong or subpar decision. I do need to gather all the available information about the issue/situation/item/people, but rather than making my decision by comparison, I use the information to make sure that I’m “seeing” the truth (or as close to it as it is possible) and then once I feel safe that I’m not overlooking anything important I just KNOW what is the correct decision.

That’s a Lion primary making a call.

Could this simply be a very strong primary interfering with the decision-making, even when it’s not about ideals but more mundane things?

Decision making is always a primary thing. Mundane stuff included. Mundane stuff is important.

On the other hand, I am an extremely hard working person (I am changing jobs right now because I feel like my old bosses are making more and more difficult for me to just do my job properly and without needing to cut corners, and it just feels wrong to me).

Oh good lord. I am ready to sort you as a Badger secondary solely on the basis of THAT.

People tell me I’m a very good listener and that I am especially good at helping others unravel their thoughts when they’re all confused and tangled because I ask the right questions. I seem to gain other people’s trust easily and often I get told gossip or secrets before others.

Badger. Also DAMN but that’s relatable. I think you might house-match me.

I got told several times by previous bosses that I should look into becoming a team leader because people like me and I make them get along better.

Sounds like a Lion/Badger combo.

People get attached to me very quickly and when I have problems the stream of folks asking if they can help or just checking in is always way more than I expect.

Isn’t it weird how that happens?

This all sounds like Badger stuff, from the descriptions I read, but many of them are not things I actively enjoy doing, I just.. do them because it would be weird to do otherwise? Or it feels like they happen to me with no effort on my part.

Because they’re just you. It’s just who you are.

I think they might be simply a result of me growing up in a society that values hard work and being kind to others, or just me being a likeable person

Not everyone finds this easy. Not even close. I have read so many testimonials written by people in Badger secondary households killing themselves trying to fit into this model. Wanting isn’t enough. Having examples around you isn’t enough.

or maybe coping mechanisms I had to learn in order to “pass” as neurotypical but as I wrote the more think and read about Birds and Badgers and their differences, the more I get confused and frustrated.

Now I know I’m projecting, but all my neurotypical coping mechanisms come out of the Bird secondary toolbox.

But it would make sense since I burned out badly in my teens from trying to always try to be perfect for my family, my friends, my teachers, society

That sounds like a young Badger secondary, more than a young Bird secondary.

and when I finally found who I really wanted to be I resolved to never let anyone define what or how I should be ever again (hello there, Lion primary!)

I hear that.

After a lifetime of beating myself up for not living up to the absurdly high expectations I set up for myself, I have decided that the only way to stay sane for me is to do the groundwork, be as prepared as I can

Bird

put in the work I should

Badger

but once I’m in the thick of it just… ride the wave. And now I got to the point where I have the confidence that I am smart enough to learn the basics of a new skill on the fly, if needed.

To me, this is so fundamentally, so spiritually Badger secondary. You don’t have tools. You are a tool. You made yourself into one. And that moment where you can just trust yourself to catch the world, absorb it into yourself, and become whatever it needs you to be... it’s ecstasy.

I’d say that lack of time is my worst enemy, but due/thanks to the ADHD that’s not true most of the time, since lack of time is what enables me to get past the executive dysfunction in the first place, so I’ll say I have a love-hate relationship with it. Doing things just before a deadline is it’s own kind of high, after all (I’m not saying it’s healthy).

At the base of your soul, you’re not really a Bird prepper/planner.

A practical example: I usually don’t like platforming games much, but I am LOVING Immortals: Fenyx Rising because in most situations, there is a “best” way to do things but you can also get creative by using different skills, using specific items, finding loopholes, or a combination of all of them.

Sounds like a Bird secondary having fun. [a fun model?]

When I fail a level/combat I don’t get frustrated because I know that I just have to try a few more times until I find the solution that feels right FOR ME, even if it’s not the most efficient ones. And when I do it feels great, even if I look a at guide afterwards and there’s a waaay easier solution! I usually feel a bit silly for not “seeing it” but also think something like “well, I think MY way is more fun!”

Oh yeah, a Bird secondary would not have that reaction. That is the sacred Badger consistency of method. How you do something matters equally as much as the final product.

When I cook, I usually find a recipe I like and try it as written, then I make small adjustments to improve it, see how it turns out, and so on until I have a recipe that is MY recipe, one I really like and that I know well enough to use as a basis to be changed if needed, knowing exactly how the change will affect the end result. I think this is why I prefer baking to other kinds of cooking, since it’s much more akin to chemistry I feel like I have more control over what a change will do.

On it’s own this could be a description of rapid-fire Bird. And you clearly have Bird, you have a lot of it. You love it.

So I guess that what really matters to me is being able to do things my way so that I can enjoy the process and live up to my standards instead of external ones?

But then you say something like this... it’s about the process... it’s about the method... it’s about something coming up to your own personal standards. And that’s so Badger.

This ended up being very lengthy… I’ve tried shortening it but English isn’t my first language and I was afraid I might come across not clearly.

Your English is perfect, and insanely clear. You’re clearer than I am.

Thank you again for the blog, I especially like your DS9 characters’ analysis and I am low-key hoping for more :)

I’m particularly proud of those ones. I’d love to do more, but before that I would have to go back and re-watch the show, or at least key character episodes. I’m not going to sort from memory. That would be doing a show I love, and a number of extremely complex characters a disservice. And it wouldn’t be nearly as fun.

(it’s that whole Badger integrity-of-method thing, you know how it goes.)

#sortinghatchats #sortme #wisteria sorts #lion primary #badger secondary #bird model #my lion badger #adhd #submission

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arcticdementor · 3 years

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I recently had Robin Hanson on the CSPI podcast to talk about futarchy. It’s one thing to spread knowledge on a particular issue, it’s another to invent a new technology to create more knowledge in the world, and help apply it where needed. That’s what I see Robin doing. He convinced me that although it may take a very long time, one day humanity will give less of a role to systems like peer review and unaccountable bureaucracy in determining how we understand the world, and more of a role to prediction markets. The logic is just too compelling. But sooner is better than later, and if you want to be involved, please reach out.

…

The first step towards this glorious future is convincing people that a world where more decisions are made based on prediction markets is desirable and achievable. In that spirit, below is a transcript of our conversation, lightly edited for clarity. To read more about futarchy, see here.

…

Robin: Right. This conditional market mechanism hasn't actually been tested out in the world outside of the laboratory tests in that we haven't been able to get people interested enough to try it. We've had a lot of tests of speculative markets that aren't conditional in the sense that we've had markets on deadlines, whether you make a deadline in sales and things like that.

We've probably had 100 different trials like that over the last few decades. Typically what happens is that if there's enough support for the market in order to induce an affectivity then again the price is about as accurate or more accurate than the status quo and most users are satisfied. The costs are modest. That's been the history for many decades.

However a key problem is usually the market gets killed in the sense that an organization says to stop and doesn't continue it. The main reason is that it's relatively disruptive. These markets are politically disruptive. The way they are disruptive is analogous to, imagine you put a very knowledgeable autist in the C suite, that is somebody in the C suite that knows a lot about the company and they go to the meetings. They just blurt out when they know things that it's relevant to the conversation but they have no political savvy.

They have no sense of, what does anybody want to hear, or who will be bothered by anything they say. That sort of an autist would not last long in the C-suite. They would be shunted aside and become an advisor to someone perhaps, trusted advisor to their side but they wouldn't be allowed to speak in the boardroom. But that's what a prediction market is. It has no idea who wants to hear what it has to say.

It will often say things that people do not want to hear, and that embarrass them, and that contradict what they've said. Then all the worse of course it will be proven right.

Richard: Yeah. But what's stopping the autist, or I guess what's stopping them is nobody has just done this yet? But theoretically you could imagine the autist setting up the rules for the corporation, right?

Robin: You might if they were in charge at the beginning sure.

…

Robin: Now we move to the question of like, what fraction of companies out there are actually maximizing profits?

Richard: Yeah.

Robin: It’s a very basic question in economics and in our world. We economists tend to assume as a simple initial working model that organizations that are for profit actually do maximize profits. That's the thing they usually do. If you give them a choice of A or B, and B is higher profit they'll choose B.

Here if you apply that model you say, “Well, this looks like it would give them key information to make key decisions like, ‘Will we make the deadline,’ and it will be valuable. The cost is relatively low so of course they would do it.” That's what you would say if you were applying that theory. Then here we have a case where it looks like, well it hasn't happened yet.

You might think, “Okay, innovation is slow. It takes a while,” but we’ve been waiting several decades. Honestly if I look across a wide range of other areas of corporate behavior I can't fully support this profit maximizing theory. I think I can find a lot of other places where what they do does not maximize profits.

I could give you a long list of examples. We could go through some of those but then the question is, “Well, how do I come to terms with it? What theory do I have affirms in the absence of profit maximizing to explain the behavior?”

…

Robin: I mean I think in fact the correct response is to say the free market version is probably the best. You just have no idea how much worse things can be. People often look at the status quo of a business world say that is relatively free market. They look at this up close and they go, “This looks terrible how could you possibly be defending this?”

The argument has to be, “Well, it would just be so much worse without this.” And in fact often if you look to large stable organizations like universities and government agencies, or churches that have been around for a long time it is in fact worse. I think that's roughly right. Another story might be we've hobbled some of the competition between firms that might solve some of these problems.

I honestly think one of the biggest wins we could do is to just allow stronger hostile takeovers. The laws at the moment make it harder to do hostile takeovers. They require a substantial tax on them in essence. If you see a badly run company and you have an idea how it could be run better the problem is how are you going to profit on that? But if you could just buy up the company, change its management and then sell it again after it was better that would be a big, powerful engine for making it better.

There have been times when that mechanism has been allowed to do more and it has made huge changes. That's what inspired people to lock it down and prevent those changes because they were scared it was coming for them.

…

Richard: I've seen stuff like who will win the tip off in basketball, and who's going to win the coin toss in a football game? Who's going to win first quarter?

Robin: I once looked onto doing this for war college war games. As you may know many war colleges have war games where they put teams on different sides and give them various equipment in a simulated war. They have them go to war. You could imagine, well letting everybody else who’s watching the war game give advice about particular strategies in the war game. That seemed plausible to me but then when I talked to people at war colleges I found that most of these war games are kind of fake.

Richard: Yeah.

Robin: They have a predetermined outcome that’s some lesson they want to tell, and so they aren't really letting it be open to winning one side or the other.

Richard: No, that's funny because you'll see headlines every now and then that'll say, “Oh, my God. The US loses to China in a war game,” and yeah I always thought that that’s…

Robin: I’m sure there probably are real war games somewhere. They just aren't at the war colleges. That's where I was thinking I could convince somebody to try this sort of thing.

…

Richard: What is the advantage of the blockchain? What is the difference between a blockchain say market versus just something like PredictIt?

Robin: Well, that's an excellent question. Initially the story was that blockchain was out of control, that it couldn't be regulated so you could set up a system on a blockchain. If the regulators didn't like it they didn't have anybody to go to stop it. The blockchain just kept going regardless of who didn't like it.

That was a big selling point. People said, “Well, look at all this financial innovation we can do because we are free from existing regulations on the blockchain.” That's what they said, and then a lot of companies formed on this basis.

But these companies didn't take personal strategies to match that rhetoric. You would think if your plan was to put a product on the blockchain and that you were going to say nanny nanny to the regulators because, “You can’t get me,” you wouldn’t have a big public presence with the headquarters, and your picture in the magazines, and show up in person at conferences right? Because…

Richard: Yeah. Sure.

Robin: ...well, that makes you more obviously a target right? That's what they did though, and then they sort of back pedaled and said later, “Oh, we're following all the regulations.” But you know people don’t really believe that. It's been this big question, to what extent will governments crack down on these blockchain things that at least from the government regulators point of view are not following their rules?

Richard: Yeah. Do you have in mind the Coinbase news that had come out the last few days, or was it today or yesterday that-

Robin: This is just a continuing issue. I don't have any particular recent event in mind but there are lots of stories about regulators thinking of doing a lot more regulating and cracking down more. This is a big question about blockchain is how far will they crack down, and what will be the consequences? Of course people say, “Well, in principle Bitcoin can keep chugging along even if they do crack down,” and no doubt that's true to some degree.

But the question of how much activity there'll be is still somewhat open. You could have it chugging along with a far lower activity because a lot of people have been discouraged.

…

Robin: Let me at this point admit what I would say is the biggest problem with futarchy and with some of these other decision markets, which is that they make hypocrisy harder, which is actually a problem. You might think, “Well, hypocrisy is a bad thing. Making it harder is good right?” Well, let’s walk through that.

At the moment, say ordinary people can claim to love trees and they just care a lot about trees. Trees real estate wonderful and they certainly wouldn’t want to have fewer trees. But then they elect politicians who have to make choices about trees versus other things. Those politicians can probably read the public and say, “Well, they say they like trees but they don’t really like trees that much, so I’m not actually going to go save some trees by interfering with something else.”

Then if the public ever finds out that somehow not everything was being done to save trees, the public can complain and say, “That damn politician! They’re corrupt! They were bought out and I sure hate them. Let’s throw them out of office,”right? Because the politician is allowing the public to be hypocritical, to pretend they care more about trees than they do.

…

Robin: The pandemic was not a big enough crisis that we fired people who did badly on it. Neither was Afghanistan. We’re in a world where we have these big things we do wrong but they somehow just aren’t bad enough to really scare us into trying different things. The question is where will we ever see some nation or big organization that’s scared enough about losing to be willing to roll the dice and try some big changes?

Richard: When you look at the American Military established under World War II I mean the military establishment was a new thing. You were building basically something from scratch. Now you have all these vested interests. You know it’s funny. The places, the countries with the most US Military… the most military personnel in the world are actually Italy, Germany, Japan, and South Korea right?

Robin: Those are risky, dangerous spots. You’d want troops there wouldn’t you?

Richard: Yeah. Well, maybe but if you notice they have something in common. Those are the Axis powers and the Korean War right?

Robin: Right.

Richard: Basically they’re the exact same place they were in 1945 to 1950 and so-

Robin: Hysteresis right? Enormous path dependence?

Richard: Yeah, exactly. Enormous dependence. Yeah, Italy. Is that obvious? The most dangerous place in the world. Maybe, maybe not.

Robin: No, and it’s not remotely obviously the most dangerous place in the world.

Richard: Yeah. Do you look around the world, and right now do you see variation in the extent to which countries are willing to not only take risks but take risks specifically along the path that you suggest?

#richard hanania #substack #robin hanson #interview #prediction markets #long read

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hanniiesuckle17 · 4 years

Text

Little Stars

A/n: THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH FOR 1.5K!!! THISMEANS SO MUCH TO ME SO HERES A LITTLE IMAGINES I WROTE OFF THE TOP OF MY HEAD THAN K YUO GUYS AGain

(this is way longer than I thought it would be! also not edited lol sorry)

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: maybe like one or two curse words, sexual tension??

Summary: Y/n is an up and coming artist. The problem is her collection deadline is one past up and coming. Lacking motivation since the job was assigned she is stuck the day before her deadline with no paintings or photos and thoroughly depressed. That is until shes see inspiration outside her window. Inspiration by the name of Lee Felix.

Genre: Fluff, strangers to ‘lovers’,

✧

Empty. My brain was empty. I had two months. Two months to come up with a small exhibit for a local gallery I was signed to. Two months. For five paintings. Or photos. Or both. TOO MANY DECISIONS. Decisions...granted I should have made...two months ago.

I sat near the biggest window in my apartment. Sunlight streamed through the glass, casting a natural glow on the stark white canvas. I just needed a theme. A subject. I know! I could do a five-part exhibition on tea kettles!

“Oh for pete’s sake, I’m going crazy,” I said head in my hands.

I can’t paint teapots. Flowers are overdone. What the hell am I supposed to paint? This exhibition was a huge deal. I had nothing and my deadline was tomorrow night.

That’s it. I’m done. My short career is finished. I should just throw away all my paints and pencils and chalk and coal and trash all the canvases that littered my apartment. I glanced at my phone which sat a few feet away from me on a small wooden table littered with tubes of paint and jars filled with brushes and blades covered in paint.

An hour had passed and I still had yet to touch my brush to the canvas. Groaning, I rested my forehead against the linen canvas. “Come on, Y/n. Search your artsy soul for inspiration.” I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. I tried to imagine the canvas being filled by something beautiful. Something worthy of love and legacy. Something that could burn a hole in my life and set it on fire. Something to ignite my passion again.

When I opened them, of course, the canvas was still empty and my brain was too.

With the thousandth aggravated sigh of the hour, I sat up and looked out the huge window near me. My eyes caught on a flash of blonde hair. Down on the street, a boy with light hair and bright eyes was bouncing along with two other boys. They were joking around and laughing, as people who’s entire job wasn’t on the line would do. For some reason, I couldn’t take my eyes off of him.

All of a sudden I could see the brush strokes of his hair on my canvas. The delicate lines of his eyes. I needed to paint him.

I launched myself out of the chair and rushed to the door. My feet took the stairs two at a time and I jumped the last three before sprinting out onto the street. My head turned in all directions trying to find the boy I saw from my window. Once again, I found his blonde mop bouncing and laughing down the street, away from my apartment.

“Hey!” I called out, running to catch up.

Good grief boys walk fast. “Hey! You! With the blonde hair!” At my words, the three boys turned around, astonished someone was running at them. After a few words, the boys started running away. “No! Wait! I need to talk to the Blonde Guy!” I yelled out of breath. Desperate, I ran after them. Thankfully they turned down an alley only a few feet away that I knew was a dead end.

I put my hands on my knees catching my breath. The three boys stared at me a little fearful. “Look, I just need to talk to Goldilocks. I saw him from my window and there was just something about you. It inspired me.”

“Well... yeah. We’re kind of famous. We get that a lot.” The boy with doe-like eyes and dark, almost black hair said like it was obvious. The boy with blonde hair elbowed him in the stomach making the other laugh.

“You’re famous?” I asked, finally standing upright. They looked between each other surprised.

“You don’t know who we are?” The youngest looking asked. He reminded me of a fox I painted once. “Sorry. We thought you were a crazy fan.” To be honest I hadn’t really been keeping up with the news or popular things lately. I had been holed up in my apartment trying to paint. “We’re from a group called Stray Kids. I’m Jeongin. The rude guy is Jisung, and that’s Felix.”

My eye immediately darted to the boy now known to me as Felix. “Felix...” I said looking him over. He was even more entrancing up close. He had soft sun spots dancing across his cheeks and nose that brightened up his face. Freckles. How cute. How different.

“Yeah...what’s your name?”

“Uh- I’m Y/n, Y/n L/n.”

Jeongin’s eyes widened. “Hyung! Isn’t she that painter that Hyunijn likes? He dragged us to that gallery last year to see her stuff.” Jisung nodded and looked from me back to Felix. “Our friend loves your stuff. He made us take a bunch of pictures of him in front of it.”

“Oh, that’s awesome.” I couldn’t take my eyes off Felix, and he noticed.

“Do you think we could like buy a painting off you? That would shut him up for like a solid six months.” Jisung said pulling out his wallet. “How much are we talking?”

“For something I have with me? Not in a gallery? Probably like....Fifteen.” I said, still quite distracted. My imagination was spiraling out of control with how I wanted to paint the boy in front of me. How I wanted to capture his image. Photograph him.

“Fifteen bucks? Great! That’s awes-”

“Fifteen hundred.”

Felix burst into laughter as the look on Jisung’s face fell. His hand was frozen, extended out in front of him, already prepared to give me fifteen dollars. My heart skipped a beat watching Felix’s bright grin. He practically glowed.

“I’ll make you a deal. I’ll let you choose any painting you want from my apartment and I’ll sign it for...Hyunjin, was it?” The boys nodded. “I’ll give it to you if Felix will help me finish my new exhibition. It shouldn’t take long. I’ll even-”

“Sure.”

Felix shrugged with a small smile, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He looked me over with a soft and happy gaze. It seemed I intrigued him as much as he intrigued me.

“My apartment is just around the corner.”

“Cool. Just a heads up, I’ve never modeled except for like album jackets and stuff.”

“Don’t worry about it.” The closer he got, the harder it was not to smile. Jisung and Jeongin were joking behind us, something about Felix finally getting into a pretty girl’s apartment, but it all kind of faded away as I walked back with Felix. I felt the passion to paint again burning in my stomach.

✧

Felix patiently waited as I opened the door to my apartment. When we entered I hastily cleaned up some random junk cluttering the counters as he looked around. There was nothing I could do about the multiple canvases lying in stacks all around the living room.

“Wow. You are really good.” He said looking at a large canvas painted with bright and happy colors near my kitchen. Why did the compliment feel different coming from him?

“Thank you very much. I’ve had a bit of a dry spell recently.”

“For how long?”

“Give or take three months.”

Felix chuckled and looked at the other paintings near him. While he explored my art-filled apartment, I set up my camera on a tripod near the window and adjusted the position of my easel. “So, how is this gonna work?”

“Um...I’m not entirely sure. I’ve never been inspired like this before. I really have no idea what medium I’ll end up using...so I’m sort of using...all of them.” Felix laughed again watching me frantically prepping everything I could possibly need. I didn’t miss the lingering stares he cast my way.

“We’re doing photos? Should I like put on a base or something?”

“NO!” He was a little shocked at my outburst. He probably wasn’t used to being photographed without makeup. “Sorry. I just- I don’t want you covered up. I want to paint everything. Everything about you.” I looked to see a shy blush on Felix’s face as he came to stand near me by the window.

“So, I sit here?” He motioned to the windowsill, overlooking the street on which I discovered him. The light hit him perfectly, bouncing of his cheekbones and practically giving him a halo.

I nodded quietly and adjusted a few settings on my camera before returning to my easel. Felix looked at me with a smile. I laughed seeing he was trying to pose and stay very still.

“You don’t have to do that. I’ll ask you to be still if I need to.”

The sound of the camera clicking filled the apartment as Felix watched me paint him. The lines came easy to me as if I had painted him many times before. He watched as I painted the lines of his face and his eyes quickly appeared on the canvas, staring back at me just like he was.

“Do you want some music? This will take a while. I’ve got five pieces to do.” Felix chuckled, his adam’s apple bobbing up and down and his eyes crinkling into crescent moons.

“Music would be wonderful.” With a smile, I shoved my wet paintbrush behind my ear, streaking my cheek and possibly my hair, and shuffled over to turn on my stereo. Felix let a curious grin slip onto his lips. “Classical?”

“Do you like it? It helps me focus.” He nodded and looked out the window. His eyes closed as the sound of soft violins floated through the apartment. “So, Felix, what’s your favorite book.” He was a little shocked at the random question, but that happy smile returned.

“Ummm...let’s see,” While he thought I continued painting, the basics of his face and form already done. I quickly painted the window and background so I could go back to focusing on the shadows and details of Felix’s face. My hands worked quickly, shading in the dark patches behind the cushions and curtains.

“Peter Rabbit.”

“Like the kid’s book?”

“Yeah, what’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing! It’s just different. I knew there was something special about you.” I said with a laugh, grabbing a smaller brush and looking at the shadows behind Felix. He tilted his head, resting it on the window.

“Why did you pick me?”

The movement of my brush stopped. My eyes met the dark brown stare Felix held. He smirked noticing the heat rushing to my cheeks. “I thought you looked like a shooting star.” His eyebrows rose and he tried not to laugh.

“That’s quite the artist's answer.”

“Well, I am an artist.”

He chuckled and started playing with the edge of his sleeve. “So, a shooting star?” Again, I blushed. The painting was almost finished I just needed to finish the details of his eyes and cheeks. “Yeah. I don’t know. You just seemed so full of life. Something fleeting. Something...ephemeral.”

“Ephemeral? As in not lasting? What am I supposed to turn into dust after you’ve finished with me?” He laughed, his eyes crinkling. My eyes trailed down his cheeks to look at the stars dancing across his skin. The freckles scattered about his cheeks. Delicately, I began placing each and every spot as Felix told me about his life.

“It’s finished.”

“Can I see?” He said jumping up from the window sill. I shook my head and grabbed the still wet canvas. “Come on, Y/n! Let me see!” He chased me around the living room trying to carefully grab the painting. I laughed when his arms wrapped around my waist and he pulled me to him.

“You can see it when the collection is complete! We have more art to make!” He laughed and let me place the painting away to dry. Together we walked over back to the window and he sat back down, watching me expectantly.

I scanned through the photos the camera captured. They were fantastic. They were the perfect candids. I could edit these into black and white and it would be gorgeous. Felix came to look over my shoulder. He gasped at the pictures.

“How the hell did you do that?” Felix gently took the camera and scrolled through the pictures. “Seriously. You were busy painting. How did you do this?” I shrugged and cleaned some of my brushes while he looked through the photos.

“Sometimes it is not about the angle or the position. It’s just what the subject is doing or feeling.” I took the camera and scrolled to a certain picture. “Like this one.” Felix looked at the picture. It was him leaning against the window, his eyes crescents and aimed somewhere off frame. “Do you know when this was?” He shook his head and looked to me.

“When I called you a shooting star.” Felix looked at the photo again, seeing it in a new light.

“So, what’s next?”

I felt so close to Felix. Like I had known him for years. Had it really only been a few hours? My eyes traced the lines of his shoulders and back. The perfect canvas.

“Can I...paint on you?”

His eyes widened for a millisecond and he let out a breathy laugh. “Have you done it before?” I shrugged and wiped my paint stained hands on my jeans. When I looked up he had moved a little closer.

“I’ve never really wanted to. Like I said, I don’t want to capture your image...covered up. It should be seen naturally.”

Felix smiled. “So, where are we doing this?” He said softly. My heart thumped against my chest. I pointed to an open space on the wood floor and he nodded. I grabbed some body paints I had lying around in a cabinet and brought them over to Felix.

“Let me know if anything gets uncomfortable and I’ll stop.” He nodded and slipped his shirt over his head. I motioned for him to lie on his stomach and he followed my instruction. Felix shivered when his tan skin touched the cool wood floor.

“What got you into painting?” Felix asked, resting his head on his arms. I picked out the brush I wanted to start with. My palm rested on his shoulder as the brush hovered over his back.

“I’m not really sure. You see...I really sucked at math.”

Felix let out the largest laugh, one that shook his whole chest. I took the opportunity to start painting. Soon his lower back was filled with swirling colors of blues and purples. “Is everything okay?” Felix asked, interrupting his own story.

“Yeah, just an awkward angle.”

“You can adjust if you want to. I don’t mind.” My skin started to crawl when Felix turned to me in the eye. Like he was inviting me to come even closer to him. He smiled at the blush on my cheeks before turning his head away. Hesitantly, I situated myself above Felix, slowly resting some of my weight on the lowest part of his back possible. I saw him smile when he felt my knees on either side of his hips.

Felix continued his story about something one of his friends named Chan did the other night. The sound of his low voice mixed with the music still playing guided my brush like it had a mind of its own. When I looked at my work, a nebula with hundreds of little stars was born onto his skin.

“I think it’s done.”

Carefully, I got off of Felix and helped him up. I set the camera up again and it started taking pictures. Taking Felix’s hand I pulled him in front of the lens and positioned him with his back towards the camera. He watched me as I positioned his body, my hands unintentionally lingering on his shoulders.

Felix turned to me as I began to pull away. “I didn’t know art could be so intimate.” I looked down to see his hand on my arm, his body was slightly turned at the waist towards me and his eyes bore into mine. Never had I felt this passionate about something other than art. I liked Felix. A lot. More than I should admit after just meeting the man. “Is it supposed to be like this?”

I shook my head, hoping he wouldn't notice I stepped closer. “No,” His hand slid around the base of my back. “Maybe you are a shooting star. I couldn’t have wished for something this incredible.” He smiled and looked down at me.

“Can I kiss you? Sorry...I just-”

“You really didn’t have to ask.” Felix, let out a small laugh, almost a giggle, making me smile. My fingers traveled up his neck and into the edge of his blonde hair. “Well, are you gonna do it or are you gonna chicken out, Felix?”

“Oh shh.”

His lips tasted like strawberries. He was gentle and slow, like he was savoring every moment. When he pulled away I rested my forehead against his. “I do not regret putting off my work until the last minute.” He laughed, his eyes brightening and lighting up the whole room.

✧

Standing in the gallery felt like a second home. My exhibition hung on the wall .It was one of my greatest yet. The gallery had given me an extension after seeing the semi-finished product. A group of rowdy boys walked towards me, a familiar and handsome face leading them.

“Y/n!” He called, running up and greeting me with a kiss. The other seven boys followed after him. One of the taller ones hung towards the back clearly nervous.

“You must be Hyunjin?” I asked reaching for his hand. His eyes widened and he shook my hand vigorously. His sharp features lifted into a grin and he laughed. “You might want to let go of my hand eventually.”

“Oh. Sorry. I’m just such a big fan.”

“I know. Felix has told me all about you. I’ve got a painting signed for you in my car.” Hyunjin’s jaw dropped and I swear he almost fell backwards had Jisung not been there to catch him.

“So, what is your collection called?” The boy Felix pointed out to me as Chan asked. Felix proudly wrapped an arm around my waist as I guided the group to the first piece.

“It’s called Little Stars.” Felix, blushed when I lightly pinched his cheek. The boys marveled at the first painting. It was one of Felix sitting in my window. It was the only piece in color. We moved on to the second piece. The photo I had shown Felix of him smiling.

The next photo was a frame I had cropped to show just his eyes. Even in black and white Felix still managed to bring color and life with just a single look. “Wow, Felix! I had no idea you were this cool looking!” Minho said, marveling at the photograph. Felix kicked him as we moved forward.

The second to last photo showed the painting I did on Felix’s back. He was completely turned away from the camera, but you could see my hands on his shoulder and waist. I had edited the photo so just my hands and arms were seen. Felix smiled and kissed the top of my head before the both of us led the group to the exhibit finale.

“DAMN FELIX!” Jisung yelled.

“Jisung. We are in an art gallery. Don’t yell.” Chan scolded.

“Sorry, but Felix got game.”

I laughed and looked at the photo; it was my favorite. Felix was half turned towards me but you could still see the nebula and stars on his back, his hand was gripping my waist tightly and he smiled down at me, our foreheads pressed together. You could see my fingers pulling away from the base of his hair, giving movement to the photo.

“This is incredible, Y/n.”

“Well, it’s all you so I should say so.” He kissed my cheek with that bright smile of his. “You really are my shooting star. I’m getting everything I could ever wish for.”

✧

Requests are open, my lovelies!

Masterlist

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its--fandom--darling · 4 years

Text

Wrapped Up in You

Pairing: Librarian!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Prompt: ~gently wrapping a scarf around the other with an accidental brushing of the cheek

Rating: E for Everyone

The library is quiet and cozy. It’s your favorite place to be on campus. You’re not sure if it’s the smell of books or the smell of the café that puts you at such ease there but deep down you don’t care. It’s the perfect place to write your essays and get your homework done in peace away from your rowdy roommate. The fact that the librarian’s assistant was extremely attractive. He was polite and soft spoken when he checked out your books. He was always focused on the process of scanning your books and punching the library cards, just so that it gave you the perfect opportunity to admire him and his beautiful cheekbones and silky hair that looked uber soft. He always keep it up in a bun. You desperately wanted to take it down and run you fingers through it. He had the bluest eyes you’d ever seen hidden behind his gold rimmed glasses. Still his eyes always managed to twinkle in the fluorescent lighting of the library foyer. Boy, did you have it bad for him.

Today the library is busier than usual, as thanksgiving break is looming and pre vacation deadlines are coming up. Thankfully, your secret spot is free as it’s tucked away in the uppermost floor of the library, behind the boxes of microfiche. You’d found it during the last semester of your sophomore year and it had been a godsend. You got settled into the study nook and pulled out your laptop, determined to finish the first draft of your final paper before you left for the night. The biggest perk of being so hidden is that you were hardly interrupted and that would definitely come in handy during these times. You pull your scarf off and tuck it into the chair and start writing. The time flies as you right, arguing you position as ardently as you can. Your struggling to finish your conclusion when your stomach growls breaking your concentration.

You take a glance at the clock on your laptop. At 9:30 both the cafeteria and the café in the lobby were closed. You sigh as your stomach rumbles again. You dig through your bag, looking for the protein bar you keep in there for times like these before remembering that you’d eaten it during yesterday’s writing session.

The soft pat of footsteps approaching catch your attention and you look up to catch your favorite librarian rounding the corner. His faces lights up in surprise when he notices you.

“oh sorry, I didn’t realize anyone was up here,” he says softly.

You smile at him. “It’s ok, I’m just finishing up here anyways.”

He shuffles awkwardly. “I was just coming up here to eat, my dinner, I’m finally on break.”

You pull some of your stuff off the far side of the table. “Feel free to sit, I’m hogging the table.”

“Are you sure?” he asks, pushing his glasses up his nose.

You nod, “yeah, it’s no problem. I was gonna head back to my dorm for food. I got so caught up in my writing that I missed the dining hall.”

He sits and pulls out a brown sack. “Do you want half of my turkey and swiss?”

You shake your head. “Oh no, I don’t wanna take your food.” You stomach growls loudly, some what resembling a beached whale.

He smiles, “It sounds like your stomach does, plus I really don’t mind sharing.”

You smile and reach out your hand. “Well thanks, I’m (y/n).”

He shakes your hand, “Call me Bucky and I know who you are (y/n). You’re like our best customer.” He says pulling out his sandwich and offering you a half.

You take it and smile, before taking a bite. “Can I ask you how you get Bucky from James?” you ask, pointing at his nametag

“Oh, my middle name is Buchanan and my dad’s name is James so growing up everyone called me Bucky and it just kinda followed me to college.”

You nod as you chew thoughtfully, “It suits you.”

“You think so?”

You nod again. “This sandwich is really good by the way.”

He smiles, “Thank you. It’s the bread, my roommate stress bakes.”

You smiles, “Really? Mine is just super loud.”

He chuckles and pulls out a bag of carrots. He opens the baggie and offers you some.

“Thank you.” You take a couple and crunch on them happily. “So what are you majoring?”

He swallows his mouthful. “I’m a double major, History and Russian Literature.”

You raises you eyebrows, “Wow, that’s impressive and here I am a lowly English major.”

He rolls his eyes, “That’s still cool.”

You shrug. “It’s ok.”

He smiles and finishes his sandwich. You talk until his watch beeps. “oh shit, my breaks over. It was really nice talking to (y/n). Maybe we can do this again sometime?”

You nod, “I’d really like that.”

You look at your watch and stand, collecting your books and bag. “I should really get going too.”

“Can I help you carry anything?” he asks, softly.

“Oh, you don’t have to that, Bucky, really I can manage.” You murmur, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.

“Don’t forget your scarf,” he says grabbing it from the floor where it’d fallen. He gently wraps it around you never and brushes his knuckles against your cheek.

Your face heats up and you wet your lips gently. “Thank you.”

He smiles at you, “You’re welcome. C-Can I walk you out?”

You nod as he slips your bag off your shoulder and puts it on his before slipping his hand in yours. You walk towards the elevators together and ride down in comfortable silence. He walks you to the front door and pauses to give your bag back.

“Thank you for a nice evening, Bucky.” You say, adjusting your backpack.

“It was my pleasure, doll,” He replies, brushing your hair behind your ear again.

You give him a smile. “I should get going.”

He nods, “oh yeah, I should get back to work.” He turns towards back towards to desk briefly before turning back to face you and dropping a kiss on your cheek.

“Meet me in the café tomorrow at noon for lunch, I’m off tomorrow so we can talk as long as we want.” He asks, hopefully.

You nod, eagerly. “Yes, I’d love too but what about work?”

He smiles at you crookedly, “I’m off tomorrow, so your all day.”

You smile widely. “I’ll you at noon then. Should we exchange numbers?” you ask offering him your phone. He pulls his out and trades with you. You tap your numbers into each other’s phones quickly.

“Barnes, I need you back behind the counter!” the librarian hisses angrily as Bucky hands your phone back to you.

“Duty calls, doll, I’ll text you.” He says with a crooked grin.

“Bye, Bucky.” You say, waving to him as he jogs back over to the counter. You push open the door, shivering briefly at the gust of chilly autumn air that greets you. It however, doesn’t damper your mood as you have a date with the cutest librarian on campus tomorrow and your heart had never felt so warm. You can still feel his lips against your cheek and that makes you smile all the way back to your dorm

Tagging: @persephone-is-here-omg @salimahbicharara-comun @angryschnauzer @soldatsaleannan @yourgoldenhell

#bucky barnes x reader #librarian!bucky #reader insert #Fluff

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ryik-the-writer · 3 years

Photo

THE AUDACIOUS STORYBROOKE MIRROR ADVICE COLUMNIST (WEDNESDAY PAPER EDITION) In which Lacey French is a smutty advice columnist for the Storybrooke Mirror.

Ch. 4: Lacey has a conversation with one of her biggest opposers, followed by an interlude with Gold

A03

Wednesday morning came too soon, but Lacey had met the deadline for her column, and she still had a job when she walked into her office.

“Racy Lacey,” Cruella had responded when she sent in the final edit. “When did you become so angelic?”

“Stuff it,” she said to her secondary editor.

Glass’s feedback was mutual.

“Well kid, I admit I had some doubts,” he said just as Lacey was about to scream. “But you pulled it off. We’re getting decent comments on the new column, especially from the higher up.”

“You mean from her majesty,” Lacey spat, despising the woman who got her into this who mess.

“The mayor is pleased, yes,” Glass relayed with a slight warning to his voice.

Lacey ignored it of course, but she didn’t want to talk about that horrid woman any longer.

“What did you think?” she asked, running a finger over a book on his desk.

Glass had the audacity to laugh. “You haven’t asked me that since you were an intern.”

She turned a harsh glare at him and Glass finally put her out of her misery.

“I thought you put a lot of heart into it, and I know it wasn’t easy stepping into something so different from what you’re used to.”

“You’re fucking telling me,” Lacey muttered undetected.

“It’s a heavy subject, I mean good God Lace, did you pick this one to get back at me?”

“Maybe.” Lacey teased.

He let it slide and stood, cueing that there conversation was coming to an end.

“Well you did good, and, well, I’m proud of you kid.”

That was indeed something she hadn’t heard since she was a bright-eyed intern back in high school, and something she hadn’t heard from anyone but him.

Not even from her own father.

“Don’t get mushy on me, Delicate-as-Glass,” she snarked, enjoying the way he bristled from the use of her nickname from him.

“Easy,” he warned, but he more important things to do than lecture his most wild employee on respect.

“Anyway, I think we can start adding one of those with your usual debauchings, and that should keep you in the clear.

It was just as she suspected, but she complained simply to put on a show and then let the matter rest. She’d have to work with Gold some more, which she had no problem with at all.

Though it would seem their attempt at a romantic relationship was going to need some time.

Sunday came around and Lacey hadn’t seen nor heard hide or hair of him since their drink.

As Lacey walked the streets of Storybrooke, an attempt to get her thoughts in order, she but decided she’d visit him that night for more help on her “fluff” article, and maybe some feedback on her smutty one.

Bells rung cleanly through the air as church services let out and Lacey scrunched her nose. The religious zealots in Storybrooke were her biggest haters. It wasn’t uncommon that she’d get some sort of email warning of the damnation of her soul or the obstruction of the town’s youth.

Lacey laughed aloud as she thought of the latter, certain Storybrooke’s youth found their first form of porn in a much more modern way – a fact she often wrote as reply in her emails on the subject.

“Glad to see you’re in good spirits, Miss French.”

Lacey’s grin melted into an annoyed frown at the familiar, very unwelcomed voice.

“Son of a bitch,” she muttered as her most vocal opposer approached: Mother Superior.

The head nun of Storybrooke’s covenant had her finger in the grand pie that was Storybrooke and was quick to take down anything she could pinpoint as “sinful.” Such measures included removing a majority of “inappropriate” books from the town’s school libraries (the public one had been closed for years), mandating separate PE classes at said schools, and worse, writing a religious reminder about the wages sin in Storybrooke’s Sunday paper—Lacey’s fucking territory!

“Morning,” Lacey greeted vilely, glancing over her shoulder. “And…goodbye.” She began to walk away, but was halted by more of the pious nun’s words.

“I was interested to see your choice of column’s this week,” she spoke. “Much more effective than the sinful trash you usually post.”

Lacey swung around on her heal, letting out a fake gasp.

“And here I thought you hated my work,” she gave the nun a plastic smile. “Good to hear you read my columns regularly.”

Mother Superior bristled, already losing her battle with the spicy Lacey French.

“You—you obviously can stop your sinful ways if you give yourself the chance. You could really help people instead of leading them down the path of—”

“I do help people,” Lacey hissed. “Sex, intimacy, closeness, all of those things are important to people, and they come to me for help because unlike you I’m not going to shame them.”

The head nun went quiet and Lacey thought for a moment she’d won this fight and could go about her day in peace, but then a wicked grin spread over Mother Superior’s face and Lacey knew her day was about to get much worse.

“People seek your insight because you’re an easy slut who has whored herself out expertly.”

She said it. The W-word Lacey hated with a passion. The word that was always aimed at her.

She tried to hide the impact it had on her. No one, not even a pillar of the fucking community, was going to get under her skin.

“At least people read my expert advice. From what I seen they shred your little letter of conviction up and donate it to the animal shelter for bedding.”

Mother Superior’s face turned green and her mouth opened again to comment when another familiar figure added their appeal.

“Mother Superior,” Gold greeted darkly. “I do hope since you’ve found time to invade Miss French’s business then you’ve found time to gather the rent for tomorrow.”

The head nun’s expression turned pale. Her mouth failed to work and Lacey found some secret pleasure in her downfall.

“O-of course, Mr. Gold,” she finally replied, giving Lacey one last dirty look before she dashed away to the convent.

Lacey snorted, spinning around to face Gold.

“Thanks cutie pie, but I was handling myself just fine.”

Gold shrugged. “I never miss a moment to remind that gnat of a woman of her place.”

She chuckled at that, though the sting of the nun’s words were still wearing off.

Gold noticed her shift in mood and searched for an out.

“I was…going to call you.”

“But you didn’t.”

“Well neither did you.”

“Ugh,” Lacey groaned. “We wrote a column, not slept together, let’s drop it.”

Gold’s face heated and he went quiet.

Lacey sighed, knowing she’d already made the situation between them more awkward than it already was.

“Look,” she said, “I have a few fluff columns I need to go through. How about I come by your place later and you see what you can do.”

Still flustered, Gold could only nod.

“Great,” Lacey said. “I’ll see you then.”

Gold watched her leave, the clanking of her high heels matching the thumping of his heart.

So far there relationship was a sort of business casual agreement, but there was the “what if” factor floating cleanly over them.

His attraction for her was clear between them, but exactly how she felt was still unknown.

For all he knew she was simply using him, but at least it was for his mind and not for his heart.

He was becoming content with their relationship, but he was a lonely soul who would one day want more. What would happen when he tried to take that step? Would it be the end of them?

Unbeknownst to him, the same thought was on Lacey’s mind.

No one had ever stood up for her like that before, and there was a certain tastefulness watching him snarl at that gnat of a nun.

She’d admit that Gold was attractive in his own way. Lean, a decent stature, nicely grayed out, and those eyes. Damn his eyes. The color of whiskey and just as addictive.

She found herself grinning like a freaking teenager as she thought of her unofficial business partner and her growing attraction for him.

It only occurred to her as she got halfway to her apartment that she had spoken to him completely in the open and felt absolutely no remorse or concern.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

“Okay, how about this one: Racy Lacey, I’m at my wits in with my new boyfriend—oh never mind, this one’s smut-worthy too.”

Gold scoffed. They’d been looking through emails for the past hour. They were almost though a whole bottle of wine, most of which was drunk by Lacey. Gold avoided the alcohol as much as possible less he embarrass himself.

Lacey seemed to be holding her own though, mostly. She was walking barefoot through his living room, pacing back and forth as she read emails off her phone.

It was a lovely site and very distracting.

“Your mind goes straight to the gutter, doesn’t it?” Gold said, his stomach immediately twisting with anxiety.

It was the first time he’d attempted to joke with her and, judging by the snort that followed, she took it fairly well.

“Well, people write me for one thing,” Lacey shrugged, falling back beside him on the couch. “So the gutter is a good place to go.”

He chortled, grateful her sense of humor ran deep.

Lacey stared at him over the rim of her glass, curious.

“What about you?” she inquired. “Where does yours goes?”

Gold choked a bit on the sip of wine he’d taken. Not embarrassing himself was starting to go out the window, it would seem.

“S-somewhere more innocent than where yours is,” he said, not meeting her eyes. “Shouldn’t we get back to the column?”

Lacey crawled closer until she was mere inches from him. She crossed her legs, leaning one hand on her knee as she watched him grow increasingly nervous.

“Come on, converse with me,”

Gold resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Lacey French was guiltily tipsy in his living room, and getting increasingly bold at that.

“Miss French…”

“For Christ’s sake it’s Lacey,” she slurred. “We’re defiantly on a first-name basis, I mean come on.”

Gold chuckled nervously. Where they really at that stage already?

“I suppose we are. Now the column…”

“Ugh,” Lacey groaned, setting her glass on the floor beside the couch. “All work, no play. What’s the matter, afraid you’ll fall even more in love with me?”

Gold froze. Honestly, he could faint. Lacey was certainly having a field day with the knowledge of his affections from his drunken email earlier last week.

She wasn’t mocking him, that much he could tell, but he did increasingly wonder the authenticity of her affections towards him, if there were any at all. She’d probably regret her words tomorrow, but he wouldn’t remind her of them if didn’t bring them up.

“It’d certainly be a challenge not to,” he admitted.

Lacey’s smile stretched further, her chest fluttering.

Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe Lacey simply wanted to explore this oddity she had developed with Gold. Either way, she was about to make a very drastic decision.

“Hey,” she whispered, chuckling. “How about …”

Gold tilted his head, charmed at the rosiness on her cheeks. “Yes?”

She stared into those eyes, their color so tantalizing and bright.

“…kiss me.”

Gold’s smirk slowly disappeared, his chest seizing.

“I…I beg your pardon?”

“K-I-S-S,” Lacey repeated with a smack of her lips. “me.”

Gold could only stared at the scarlet-faced goddess in front of him, the color of her face making the blue of her eyes stand out all the more.

He did want to kiss her—Gods knows he did—but was this the right time?

Lacey seemed to think so as she leaned forward, expecting his lips. In retaliation, he leaned back, trying to put as much distance between them as possible.

Lacey caught on quickly, pausing when she saw the uncertainty on Gold’s face.

“Yikes, sorry,” she muttered. “You’re not going to catch anything, damn.”

Gold was taken aback by the sudden malice in her tone and, he saw, the flicker of shame in her icy blues.

“What? Lacey what are you talking about?”

Lacey stared glassily at her bare feet, shrugging nonchalantly.

“You said ‘who knows what I have’ during our fight, remember?”

With flaming discomfort, he recalled exactly what she was talking about.

It had been a flare up, a way to push her out as he recovered from his embarrassment, to keep her at arms-length, he previously convinced himself.

The reason was pointless. He’d insulted Lacey, humiliated her really.

It didn’t take a vivid imagination to know that her early conversation with Mother Superior was only a sample what she went through daily. And he’d was no different than the fools in town who jumped to conclusions about virtue.

Her head was still bent, one of her fingers circling a patch of leather on the couch. Gold felt sick that he had made her feel any level of guilt when she shouldn’t at all.

“Lacey,” he said quietly. “I am so sorry. I was foolish. I didn’t mean what I said. I shouldn’t have said it.”

Lacey shrugged, uncrossing her legs and made her way to the window.

“It doesn’t matter.” She replied, the phrase her constant companion whenever she was compared to someone with such loose morals.

Lacey was as sex positive as they came and encouraged many of her readers to be comfortable and experimental with their sexuality, but her own experience came from a vivid imagination. Her own standards were extremely high, and her partners very few.

Of course, that didn’t stop the many she turned down from spreading callous rumors about her when she refused their beds, and of course being a sex columnist didn’t lend an the most positive opinion.

She’d learned to deal with the snarls and the crude comments whispered behind her back. She’d eye her opposers down just as damningly as they did her and came out triumph.

Still, the isolation didn’t stop the wave of loneliness that hit her from time to time.

“It does too matter,” Gold fought. “You don’t deserve what I said to you Lacey, what anyone says to you at that!”

“I’m used to it—”

“You shouldn’t be,” Gold cut her off. “You are a beautiful, intelligent person Lacey. And you do something every day that not many people have the ability to.”

Lacey snorted but smiled none the less.

“You’re so brave to do it,” Gold said, his eyes lowering. “Braver than I am.”

Lacey eyed him, cocking her head mischievously.

“I think you’re pretty brave,” she said. “Not too many people have the gall to have Racy Lacey in their house, especially with such nosy neighbors.”

“Damn the neighbors,” he said.

She scooted closer, her breath warm and acidic on his lips.

“I think you’re pretty handsome too,” she smirked.

Gold scoffed. His looks were the last thing he’d credit himself over.

“I’m serious,” Lacey said, her painted nails trailing up his neck. “Especially your hair…”

Gold accepted her touch with earnest, his predatory eyes fluttering shut as he pressed into her hand.

She watched him, a man starved for human affection. Just like her.

She carefully leaned forward, letting her lips brush against his, testing his consent. When he didn’t pull away, she strengthened the kiss, pressing her lip solidly into his as her hands tangled in his locks.

Gold returned it, lost in her taste and desperate for her touch.

They separated for air, Lacey’s hand have gripped the collar of his shirt.

“Hey,” she husked. “What if we…”

He was no fool to not know what she wanted.

He had wanted to protect, but found out she didn’t need protection, not from the town at least.

His own heart was damaged, and Lacey had begun to fix the chips and dents.

He was still hesitant, still ashamed by his behavior toward her earlier, but Lacey was pawing at his shirt and he could think of nothing else but her.

He kissed her again, his hand feeling down her hip.

Lacey was quite receptive. She uncrossed her legs and crawled into his lap, pushing him against the arm of the couch.

He captured her face with one hand while he explored her body with the other. His hands came up to her top, stopping for her permission. Her hands met his and she all but ripped off her shirt, her nipple standing at full attention through her silk bra.

Gold’s hands ran up her back, grazing her breasts and gliding over her stomach, her side, down her thigh and under the fabric of her jeans.

She clung to his shoulders as she let her tongue dance with his. Wetness was already pooling between her legs. This was escalating quickly and yet she had no intention of holding back.

He swallowed when his erection pressed against her thigh. She desired him and she needed him. Now.

With more skill than he could have imagined she managed to get her jeans off in a messy tangle, laughing as he helped her.

His fingers graced against the fabric of her panties, applying just the right kind of pressure to her clit.

“Gold,” she keened, attacking his belt and leaning off of him just enough to help pull his boxers down.

She felt his hard erection twitch, pressing against her flesh, his warmth radiating.

She kissed him again. He groaned and bucked his hips against her. She moved her hands between their bodies to free his throbbing erection from his pants. He groaned when she wrapped her hands around his cock. She wanted to taste him. She wanted him to fuck her. She wanted to bring him pleasure and see it written all over his face.

He trembled a little, grateful she had no qualms with being in charge.

“You are so sexy,” he groaned as she grabbed his cock with one hand and fighting between moving her panties aside and steadying herself with the other. Feeling how good he felt when he finally slipped inside her made all annoyance she felt slip away.

They both sighed and she captured both his hands, pulling them up and behind his head. She entwined her fingers with his and pressed his hands against the couch as she bend forward to kiss him.

She rode him hard, licking, nibbling, sucking at this mouth while she did so. He was hers and she wouldn’t allow him to run off again. He came before she could reach her climax, but feeling his hot seed spilling inside of her brought her over the edge again.

She collapsed on top of him, releasing his hands to play with his hair. And they just breathed together.

Then she started laughing, a throaty ring that made his heart pound.

“Well, Goldie Locks,” murmured as she played with his curls. “I think I have my inspiration for my next column.”

He chuckled and held her ease down so that she was lying on top of him.

“Such a shame you still have to write the tame one, you’re deadline is tomorrow morning, yes?”

Lacey groaned and buried her head in his chest. He kissed her curls in reply.

He was indeed going to enjoy this new relationship with Lacey French.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

I’ve been trying to get these two to bang for over a month now, so boom, they banged. I can’t write a smut scene to save my life.

#rumbelle fic #rumbelle #lacey french #mr. gold #rumplestiltskin #ryik's fics

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kpop-zone · 5 years

Text

Playing with Fire: Ch 2

Word Count: 2,763

Chapter 2

Because you had spent your first night after officially being Blackpink’s producer with pondering, you woke up the next day, feeling like a truck had run you over. You were extremely tired and felt like your head was completely empty. Nevertheless, you had to drag your feet to work and take an active part in all the meetings. Which was a difficult task. Everyone was having different ideas and was constantly talking all at once. After only three hours, your head felt like exploding. Right in time with the most important meeting of the day. The one with the artist.

You were sitting in the conference room next to Teddy, massaging your temples and waiting for the girls. Jennie was the first one to show up. Her gaze immediately fell on you when she entered the room and her face lit up. But when she saw your obviously pained face, her smile disappeared.

“Hi Teddy.”

She greeted the producer hastily before completely focusing on you.

“I’m glad to see you, Y/N. Are you ok?”

Worry was plastered all over her face and you wondered whether she cared about everyone that much.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

You smiled at her, hoping that you were convincing. Jennie’s gaze stayed a little while longer on you and she looked like she was about to talk back, but then the three other girls entered the room, filling it with laughter and loud chatter. Using the distraction, you leaped to your feet to avoid Jennie’s gaze and to greet the others.

After you had exchanged the pleasantries, you went straight to business. Teddy and you presented your ideas for the album and were glad when the members agreed to stick with the girl crush concept. Having talked about the basics, the two of you took turns in presenting your ideas in order to get more into detail.

Although you were busy, making sure that you gave a flawless presentation, you could feel Jennie’s eyes burning on you several times throughout the meeting. You tried your best to ignore it, but every time her feline eyes were on you, you forgot what you were talking about for a second. Much to the dismay of Teddy, who of course thought that you were unprepared or a really terrible public speaker.

You cursed yourself under your breath, when you were finished with your part. You had hoped to impress Teddy right from the beginning, but you hadn’t made a great job till now. Feeling disappointed in yourself, you broodily stared ahead, not even realizing that Jennie had inched closer to you until you could feel her hand on yours under the table. You jumped in surprise, attracting the attention of the others at the table, but you tried to play it off by pretending to be oblivious. When everyone continued to listen to Teddy again, you dared to look to your side and saw that Jennie was looking at you with a smile on her face.

“You did great.”

She whispered before removing her hand, but the damage was already done.

Your head was completely empty, and you couldn’t concentrate on a single word Teddy was saying. Therefore, the rest of the meeting was a blur and you only came back to your senses, when your older colleague closed his laptop and allowed each of you to go back to their other obligations. But although everyone was rushing off, you kept sitting on your chair, deep in thought. What was it with those girls and being touchy? Were they trying to sabotage you on purpose?

Slowly, however, you managed to defreeze. You realized that your tensed relationship with the girls might seem to be your biggest problem right now, but it wasn’t. You had an album to produce and deadlines to meet. Therefore, you pulled yourself to your feet and started to pack your stuff, ready to get to work again. But suddenly an unexpected voice in the room made you jump in surprise.

“You shouldn’t be so harsh on yourself.”

With wide eyes you turned around and saw Jennie standing in the doorway.

“I think you did great today. I really liked your ideas for the album.”

Her features were soft, and you felt a warm, fuzzy feeling inside of you.

Hearing her say those words, probably meant more to you than they should, and a faint blush started to spread on your cheeks.

“You think so? I think, I sounded like a complete idiot.”

Remembering how you couldn’t even finish one sentence without twisting at least half of the words, the feeling of being disappointed in yourself returned again. But Jennie quickly walked closer to you.

“Don’t say that. You are really talented, Y/N. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be standing next to me right now. Or do you think YG would have given just anyone this job?”

Jennie’s words sounded determined and felt like balm for your soul. She was right. You should stop overthinking everything and criticizing your work non-stop. You were a great producer and you had earned your spot in this team.

When you looked at Jennie, a smile played on your lips and you couldn’t believe that she had managed to find the words that you needed to hear after only knowing you for one day.

“Thanks, Jennie. I really needed that.”

Seeing that she had managed to raise your mood, her face lit up and her eyes formed little crescent moons.

“I’m glad, I could help. I know that this industry can be a lot to handle.”

Jennie sighted silently and you remembered that her path also hadn’t been easy.

Maybe you could be there for each other. Be each other’s moral support, even if the world around you went crazy. Therefore, you decided to find some encouraging words for her as well.

“But there are also people that make all the trouble worth it in this industry.”

You said with a grin, but as soon as the words left your lips, you wanted to take them back. Those weren’t the words, you told a person after knowing them for just one day. But Jennie didn’t seem to be bothered. Instead, a soft smile decorated her lips.

“Indeed.”

She stated, lingering her gaze on you before turning around and heading to the door.

Your heart felt like it was jumping out of your chest, but Jennie didn’t seem to be done with you yet.

“Are you coming?”

She suddenly asked over her shoulder and your body automatically followed her like a puppy.

You accompanied Jennie to the room where she had her next meeting in silence. When you arrived at the destination, you stood in front of the door awkwardly.

“Thank you for bringing me.”

Jennie broke the silence eventually and you nodded your head in response. Where was this tension coming from again? You fixed your gaze on your fidgeting fingers, but when you looked up, you saw that Jennie was already looking at you. Your eyes met and Jennie didn’t seem to be embarrassed by the fact that she had been staring at you. Instead, she held your gaze and your mouth went dry.

Her eyes were the prettiest things you had ever seen. They were so dark that you felt like losing yourself in them.

You were about to be hypnotized when you suddenly realized where your mind was going, causing you to quickly shake your head.

This wasn’t something that you should think about your co-worker.

“I...I gotta go.”

You stammered after clearing your throat and already walking backwards.

“Alright. I hope to see you soon.”

Jennie responded calmly and you wondered how you could reach her level of confidence.

Not once had she been awkward when approaching you. She had always simply spoken her mind. Nevertheless, she had never appeared indelicate. Behind that cool demeanor, you were sure to see a soft core. You were granted a glance on it, just a few minutes ago. Someone selfish wouldn’t have sensed your bad mood.

After still staring at her while walking backwards, you eventually turned your back to Jennie aprubtly, rushing off with big steps. You needed some air.

Like you had been under water, you gasped once you stepped outside, trying to clear your head by pumping oxygen into your lungs. But the sight of Jennie’s eyes didn’t leave your brain. And the feeling of her hand on yours was tattooed under your skin.

She was dangerous. And you needed to stay away from danger.

But this was easier said than done. After all, Jennie was your co-worker. Therefore, you had to see her every single day. And she didn’t make your job easy either. Whenever you met her, she smiled brightly and walked up to you, asking you how you were doing. And no matter how hard you tried to fob her off with standard answers, she always wanted to know the truth.

Soon you felt yourself getting closer and closer to her against your will. You shared things with her that you had left unspoken in the past and often caught yourself, asking her for advice.

But you knew it was wrong.

You were supposed to work solely on a professional level. Catching feelings, no matter which kind, would only complicate things.

Therefore, you decided to give the two of you a break. At one point you started to avoid Jennie as best as possible and if you had to meet her, you made sure not to be alone. To facilitate going through with your decision, you chose to increasingly work with Rosé instead of Jennie. You had written a song almost completely alone and you needed a lead singer. You could have chosen Jennie, because you knew that she was capable to take the lead in a song, but you chose to go with Rosé.

When you announced your decision, the disappointment was visible in Jennie’s face and you had to avoid her gaze, because your heart felt heavy, seeing her this way. You knew that it was unfair. She hadn’t done anything wrong. She hadn’t been anything but nice to you. And now you ditched her like she was some worn out toy.

You hoped that she would move on quickly. After all, you were only her producer and there were several other talented people working on this album.

But apparently, you were the only producer that she wanted.

One day, you came into the company earlier than everyone else to get a kickstart. You were just about to enter one of the studios, when you could see a shadow in the corner of your eye. You turned your head, expecting one of the cleaning ladies, but it was Jennie instead who sheepishly made her way over to you. You lost your tongue, simply hoping for her to pass you, but of course she came to a halt only a few steps away from you.

But this time, Jennie didn’t greet you with on of her gummy smiles. This time, her face stayed stern and pensive. Your roles seemed to be switched, because this time it was her who avoided your gaze. Only when you made a move to enter the studio, she grabbed your arm to hold you back.

“Did I do something wrong?”

Jennie looked at you with desperation in her eyes and guilt washed over you. It was you that had made her voice sound so silent and broken.

“No of course not. Why would you think that?”

You asked, although you already knew the answer.

“I feel like you’re avoiding me.”

Jackpot. It had always been just a matter of time till she figured it out, but you still couldn’t let her know the truth.

“I’m not avoiding you, Jennie. Why should I?”

You smiled at her, trying to take away her sadness, but Jennie didn’t seem to be satisfied with your answer yet.

“I don’t know. But we’re not talking anymore like we used to.”

Jennie opted to avoid your eyes and you were suddenly granted a glance on her weak side again. Her confidence seemed to be washed away and all that was left was a girl that felt left alone. All you wanted to do was to hug her and whisper sweet nothings into her ear. But you couldn’t.

Nevertheless, you weren’t cruel enough to let her carry the weight of having messed up your relationship any longer. Therefore, you reached out to grab her hand, causing her to look at you.

“You didn’t do anything wrong. I’ve just had a lot of stress lately. And my decision to work with Rosé instead of you, was just based on the fact that I have more experience working with singers than with rappers. My decision was purely professional, not personal.”

This time Jennie seemed to believe you, because her face brightened up a bit.

“So everything’s good between us?”

She asked, giving you puppy dog eyes and your eyes softened.

“Of course.”

Finally, you were allowed to see her gummy smile and you felt your own lips forming a smile in response as well.

“I’m really glad to hear that. I have been worried the past weeks.”

Jennie admitted while nervously looking at her hands that were tightly clasped together.

Avoiding Jennie had been a plan in need for improvement from the start. But now, it was a plan that was no longer executable. You couldn’t make Jennie worry that much ever again. No matter whether it was the right thing to do or not, you cared too much about her to let that happen.

“Don’t worry anymore. You need your energy to focus on the comeback.”

You assured her and Jennie nodded in response.

“I know.”

Silence was surrounding you suddenly, so you gave her a last smile before wanting to enter the studio, thinking that you had talked about everything that needed to be said.

“Do you want to grab something to eat with me this evening?”

Jennie suddenly blurted out and you whipped your head around in shock.

“I...I need some advice because of a song. I know you’re working with Rosé, but I hoped that you could give me some tips too.”

She added nervously and you searched for the right answer in your head, but you were completely baffled.

Was she really only searching for professional advice?

How could you say no then? You weren’t trying to make favorites in the group. Everyone deserved the same amount of attention. Only because you had worked hard on the song that Rosé was taking the lead in, didn’t mean that you could neglect the other girls.

And it wasn’t like she asked you for a date. Therefore, you cleared your throat to make your voice sound more or less steady despite the huge amount of adrenaline that was rushing through your veins right now.

“Yes sure. You can always ask me for advice.”

You smiled and Jennie looked like she was seconds away from jumping into your arms in excitement. But she held herself back and only bowed to you slightly.

“Thank you. I’m going to pick you up here then. Around seven?”

Jennie asked and you gave her an awkward thumps up before finally opening the door to the studio. Flashing you another gummy smile, she waved at you before skipping away. You looked after her until she rounded a corner. Your heart was pounding like crazy again, so you slipped into the studio where you leaned against the door and closed your eyes.

Since the first time you had seen the girls, you knew that they were trouble.

And now you already seemed to be too caught up in it to free yourself.

You needed to brace yourself for tonight. It could either tangle you up further into this mess or loosen the ties that were choking you up. It all depended on how professional Jennie would keep this night. Exhaling a shaky breath, you pushed yourself off the door to go to your desk. Right when you sat down, however, you could hear knocks on the door.

A second later, Rosé stuck her head in the door, and you remembered that you had arranged a meeting to discuss the further steps regarding the song that she was taking the lead in.

With a smile you stood up to greet her. She reciprocated the gesture while entering the room, giving you the chance to let your eyes wander up and down her body.

Had it been a good idea to avoid Jennie by getting closer to Rosé?

#dragonaceflamez #kpop-zone #blackpink #blackpink imagines #blackpink scenarios #blackpink reactions #collaboration #playing with fire #blackpink jennie #blackpink rose #blackpink jisoo #blackpink lalisa #jennie #jisoo #rose #lisa

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s-mething-mbti · 3 years

Note

Hiya! I just discovered your blog and was wondering if you could help try to type me (sorry this is pretty long)

1. I’m currently pretty torn between the intuitive introverts. I was able to narrow it down to INTJ, INFJ or INTP. I’m about 97.2% sure I use Ni. The only thing that’s giving me a bit of doubt is I find myself occasionally learning for the sake of learning which I’ve found is a traditionally Ne trait. Despite this I’m still pretty sure I use Ni as when I go down a rabbit hole and start learning for the sake of learning its always about a topic that interests me or is entertaining. I won’t waste my time learning about something I find mundane or drab. I resonate a lot with Ni’s “aha” moments where the correct answer simply pops into my head or a vision suddenly seems clear or a plot holes solution suddenly seems painstakingly obvious. I also resonate with starting out with a broader range of information/ possibilities and narrowing it down to one or two things. Another intuitive thing I highly relate to is living in the future. If almost never living in the present, and a constantly fixate on the future. I have a distinct, clear, and well thought out plan for the next 20 years (give or take).

Where I run into a bit of trouble is when I try to figure out which judging functions I predominantly use. It honestly feels like I use them all (though I know you’re only supposed to be able to use two well). For example I plan out everything, and set deadlines for myself. My desk often seems really messy to others especially when I’m doing art. This isn’t because I don’t value cleanliness, but because it simply makes more sense to keep all my art supplies out rather than having to spend at least fifteen minutes taking them out and then putting them away only to take them right back out the next day. I set goals based off of easily measurable, external things such as time, or grades. I make daily to do lists that outline everything I’ll need to do in the day, and some stuff to focus on if I have extra time. With my to do list I also plan out the approximate time each thing should take. When coming up with a scientific theory, I take others opinions/theories and test them against each other, and current scientific laws in order to formulate the most probable theory. External opinions (in a scientific/ logical manner) mean a lot to me (I don’t really care about how people that aren’t my friends think of me). To me these things seem very Te. But then I’m always smiling and am a fairly warm person. I want my friends to be happy, and I want to help others. I despise emotionally driven conflict(though I love debates), and while I’m not afraid to disrupt it if it threatens my morals/ is promoting something blatantly wrong (factually or morally) I do really harmony. These seem like pretty Fe things to me. As for Fi, I rarely share my negative emotions, preferring to deal with them predominantly alone. While I may not talk about them much I also have EXTREMELY strong morals. If something is crossing them I’m not going to simply ignore it for the sake of harmony. While I tend to be private I do try to be as authentic as possible. My morals are derived by information I’ve collected and decisions I’ve made myself, rather than being derived by ‘the groups’ collective morals if that makes sense. To me these things appear to be very Fi. As for Ti, sometimes I enjoy learning simply for the sake of learning. The knowledge may have no practical use to me but if I find it interesting or want to learn about it I can devote hours to it. I try and come to the most logical/accurate conclusion possible, and when I’m offering advice I may offer additional advice that takes different variables into account. The truth is really important to me as well.

2. Reading. I absolutely ADORE reading(specifically fantasy/sci-fi/dystopian books or research/scientific articles about topics that interest me). For reference there was a period of time when I had some free time and I was reading 2 or 3 books a day? Read maybe 50 books in the span of 20 days? But yeah I absolutely love reading. Just he way the book sucks you in and deposits you and a completely new world full of wonder and disaster and ugh it’s just magnificent. And don’t even get me started on impeccable character development and eeee. The way rereading a book feels like you’re reconnecting with an old best friend or going back to your childhood home and *sobs*. I also LOVE trying to predict plot twists and character deaths. Most of the time I can predict things correctly and idk it’s really fun to just try and figure out what’s going to happen before the big reveal. And the rush of satisfaction you get when you’ve guessed something right- it also helps me brace for character deaths (sorta. For example I knew *the* death in the final empire [by Brandon Sanderson] was coming since nearly the very beginning [I had my suspicions since the moment vin was introduced] but I still sobbed when the character died. [a tad off topic but what caused me to cry wasn’t the death itself but another characters reaction to it. This is often the case I find. A death of a character I love leaves me feeling empty but what typically gets me to cry is the others reactions- for thus reason funerals usually make me cry. I should also add that I only cry when I’m alone. I’ve cried around people (that aren’t my parents) a grand total of 1 time.]

Uh and daydreaming. I’m almost always daydreaming. Ie. if my brain was a search engine or whatever one tab would be reality and I would consecutively have at lest 20 other tabs open. Some of then playing videos (daydreams) others supplying music(if I’m not actively listening to real music my brain cycles through songs I have memorized. Occasionally does this with book scenes too if I’m bored [yes, I memorize some of my favourite scenes, word for word, so I can play them like a movie in my head when I, bored) others containing random info (just me thinking random stuff) etc.

3. I guess how to solve some problems? Wether it’s a math or science problem, or an argument between friends, figuring out how to solve things has always been something I’m decently good at. Math and science just. Make sense. And then with issues between people I’m good at looking at different perspectives (even ones that I don’t agree with) and playing out different scenarios/ possible outcomes of different approaches. This lets me come up with a solution that will successfully solve the problem with the least amount of negative ramifications involved

4. Hmm maybe being present? I honestly feel like life is passing me by and I’m just immobilized on the sidelines. Im so far into the future that I kinda forget to actually *live* every once in a while.

5. Honesty? Truth? Morals? These topics are all really interesting as they can be kinda subjective. The line between honesty and cruelty is so small. What is truth? Cause while yes, we have some set truths (such as the earth is orbiting the sun) so many ‘truths’ are simply subjective and completely depend on ones perspective. And morals my goodness. The stormlight archive is a really fun series that plays around with things like what is justice? And honour? I won’t get into it now but it brings up so many really interesting questions regarding morals.

6. Perspective . I think perspective is such a fascinating thing. Just. Different opinions. Seeing the world through completely different lenses. Interpreting the same thing in utterly different ways. When toying around with an idea I find it really fun to try and imagine opposing perspectives. While I can find different perspectives really interesting, they can also well... get on my nerves to say the least. Sometimes someone perspective is just? So blatantly wrong? And has absolutely no factual evidence backing it up? And part of me wants to just just scream and it would be so much easier if everyone just. Assessed the facts in front of them instead of making wild accusations or whatever without anything to support them. But yeah overall I think perspectives are really cool and they’re part of what helps to make the world diverse and life so much less interesting without different perspectives.

The future. I’ve found a bunch of my friends find thinking about the future stressful but if I’m being honest I find solace in thinking about the future. Having things planned out and knowing what I intend to do/ where I want to go takes off so much stress. I lowkey live in the future and I honestly cannot wait till it comes, and I achieve my goals. While I might be a bit scared the future excites me so much more than it’ll ever scare me.

7. Maybe add some more stuff about the judging functions and feelings and thinking etc . I absolutely adore science and math. I literally do math for fun. I’m currently aiming to get my PhD in astrophysics.

Not sure if this is relevant at all but my biggest (harmless) pet peeves are my grandmother’s door stopper (it always gets stuck in the door and then u can’t get it out and the door won’t close properly- I have an unhealthy amount of hatred for that thing AHAHJSEJKSMDJDJDJJ) and when people say some variant of “you did good”. Like nO NO YOU DID NOT DO gOoD. YOU DID W E L L (Anyways theres my little mini rant).

I’m my friend groups therapist (sorta). While I’m really not good with words and recycle the same three responses I always let everyone know that I’m here for them and they can talk to me without judgement etc. While I really don’t know what to say or do I try my best because I care about my friends and want to help them. I love them and so I want them to be able to be happy. Im always smiling (though this is more so because people don’t ask me how I’m doing when I look happy than because I’m genuinely happy. Most of the time I’m he farthest thing from that). I’m a pretty warm person who’s always happy to help, however I’m very introverted. I haven’t had a single conversation with the majority of people in my class (I’ve had a convo with maybe 5. Talk to 2 regularly. There are 26 people in my class). I never express negative emotions (with the exception of stress- I panic intensely in the 5 minutes immediately before taking a test as this helps me to completely turn off my nerves while I’m writing the exam. I may also make a joke or two about my negative emotions with close friends). I should also add that when making decisions I value logic more and think thinks through thoroughly, examining the pros and cons etc. While I take feelings and emotions into consideration when making decisions they’re more like an additional variable to consider rather than the main driving force that determines my decision. If I’m feeling really emotional and I need to make a decision I will postpone deciding until I feel more levelheaded. I’m really not impulsive in the slightest.

Thank you so much!!

INTJ

Living in the future rather than the present and your comfort in that sapce, your ability for and enjoyment of making predictions, your ability to really understand and try on different perspectives you don’t necessarily agree with, your focus on “ramifications” (aka future implications) while problem solving - this all points to high Ni.

You also show a Te preference - goals based on external metrics, to-do lists for daily tasks, logic based on the outer world (external opinion). When you said “While I take feelings and emotions into consideration when making decisions they’re more like an additional variable to consider rather than the main driving force that determines my decision” - that is a clear cut definition of Te over Fe preference.

Your tertiary Fi shows through here as well - willing to disrupt harmony if it upsets your morals, your morals being personally derived, needing to understand your emotions while alone. And lastly, your statement about “forgetting to live” from being in the future is pretty textbook inferior Se.

#ask #type me #intj #mbti #myers-briggs #Anonymous

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freewheelshippin · 4 years

Text

FIC: “be proud”

Let me indulge in the fantasy that I got to help, just a little bit, in making one of the only ballads on this earth I like. More “utapri characters that aren’t ranmaru” content than usual, especially Ai, since this is vaguely based on their Idol Songs album!

Content warnings include an allusion to home invasion, Ranmaru’s usual backstory things (i.e. dealing with debt), and some eating/meal scenes.

Ranmaru was surprised to receive the package, a fairly big box from someone he never expected to get mail from. Something in the pit of his stomach half-expected it to be everything he’d sent her, unused and returned to sender.

For a second, he thought he was right. It was a similar array of trinkets and colors as the merch she’d designed for his album, but it quickly became obvious this wasn’t his merch, but hers. Trinkets from her shop, like patches and pins, and one of those handmade prints she liked making on weird paper. Candies he didn’t recognize, some American snacks he did, a little box of something that looked homemade with a hand-scrawled label on it. At the bottom, a shirt, printed with a cleaned version of an album art draft he’d especially liked but the agency didn’t approve. Folded within it, a note, written in English on one side and clumsy Japanese on the other.

Yo, Kurosaki!

I know I already messaged you thanks for sending me my comp copies of everything, but I wanted to return the favor! You really didn’t have to go out of your way get it to me like that, much less pack in all the other shit you did. But I’m glad you did! It arrived on the day I got another rejection, one I was really hoping would pan out. I got back all the time I would’ve spent feeling sorry for myself and instead just wanted to try again. That’s kind of the message I got from the sound of your album, so I guess it’s appropriate!

Honestly, even if it was tough figuring things out sometimes, I had more fun on that job than any other one I can think of. You don’t have much to apologize for, I’ve survived way worse than some grumpy e-mails from a cool client, and you actually had pretty good feedback to offer. I think the end result was pretty metal. (Or well, rock, since it’s your shit, after all.)

If you’re cool with it, I think it’d be fun to keep sharing our work with one another, outside of just being a client and artist. Get some fresh perspectives, you know? You know where to message me if you think so, too.

-- M

P.S. You’re the first person to get this custom pick I got designed. Be grateful (LOL).

Taped to it, there was a pearlescent pick, red and black with white lettering. Ranmaru took it off, careful not to tear the paper, and ran his fingers over it. It wasn’t even close to the type he’d tolerate using if he wasn’t going to finger-pluck his bass.

He clasped it in his hand, pausing for a moment, before he let out a ‘hmph,’ equal parts amused, relieved, and a little bit giddy.

---------

“...Ranmaru,” Ai said, looking at him with those big saucer eyes. Sometimes Ranmaru felt like the guy never blinked, which made his curious once-overs scarier than he’d ever admit to.

“What,” he growled back.

“...according to every piece of data I know about you…” he started. He already didn’t like where this was going. “Nothing would point to you being the cell phone charm type.”

“So?!” he barked, frowning at Ai as he self-consciously stuffed his phone into his pocket. It buzzed from a message notification, as if on disastrous cue, making a plasticy noise as it rattled against the charm. “What’s your data know about the real heart of people, anyway,” he continued, crossing his arms as he leaned back in his chair.

“It hasn’t been wrong about anything yet.” Ai tilted his head. “Why do you have a charm all of a sudden?”

Because I saw she uses one of mine, Ranmaru answered frantically in his head, thinking back to the video chat they’d had where she showed it off. His hand was in his pocket, muffling his phone buzzing as more messages came in. He ran his fingers over the smooth pick, the subtle grooves where the letters were, the jagged hole he’d poked into it, the string that ran through it and knotted into a hole on his case. Because she told me about how much she liked it, so I wanted to return the favor.

“Why is this so goddamn important to you, Ai?” Ranmaru bristled. “Can’t we just get on with work already?”

Ai stared at him a moment longer before shrugging slightly. “I’m simply curious. What would motivate you to act against your usual protocol seems interesting. But if you won’t tell me, I suppose there’s no use prying, especially when we have work to be done.”

Ranmaru grunted back, leaning back to the table and looking over the notes. “We’re decided on what we wanna do for our duet, but we still have to decide on a direction for our solo songs on the album. Something that makes each of us stand out but doesn’t ruin the cohesiveness of the whole thing.”

“You should do something slow,” Ai said, after a moment of thought.

“Why should I?” Ai should know by now Ranmaru wasn’t about that sort of sound, especially when Ai already had the sad lullabies more than mastered. “Nothing about that’s very rock or wild. It won’t work with my image. Or do whatever that “gap” shit is that people like…”

“Really?” Ai looked at him again. “Ballads are an intrinsic part of rock music, and wouldn’t it be ideal for communicating feelings that aren’t as energetic as your usual work?”

“You should’ve just said power ballad in the first place,” Ranmaru grunted, but he had to admit it wasn’t a bad idea. “It’d work better with your usual style. And the duet, from how it’s going so far.” The biggest problem Ranmaru could think of was he couldn’t imagine what on earth he’d want to sing about in one.

“Then it’s decided,” Ai said decisively.

“...Oi, Ai, when did I say I agreed to this?” The kind of thing he’d rather shape into a ballad instead of his usual, urging style was a complete mystery, which Ranmaru didn’t like the idea of committing to in a partner project and on a deadline, even if it was months away. But like hell he’d admit that to someone else in Quartet Night, much less Ai, who’d just give him “logical” suggestions Ranmaru already knew he’d hate.

“Was your reasoning not enough?” Ai tilted his head. Ranmaru met his eye. Something about the curiosity on that blank face felt less pointlessly prying this time. Now it was more like someone who just wanted to see something new.

Ranmaru couldn’t fault him for that. And he was due to challenge himself in this way, anyways.

“....Fine. Whatever. That means you can’t do your usual sentimental stuff. You should do something that’ll lift everyone up after the heaviness of the other songs.”

“That sounds logical,” Ai replied. His eyes moved to Ranmaru’s pocket as it buzzed once again, but quickly turned back as they brainstormed ideas.

--------

He wiped his eyes as he leaned back from the computer, surprised by how quickly and unbidden they came. He hastily tore up a strip of paper and hung it over the camera built into the laptop -- he knew it wasn’t on. This wasn’t a video call. But the idea of someone seeing him like this felt surreal and, frankly, too scary to confront right now.

They chatted a lot more, now. It’d been about half a year since they’d started talking outside of work. It wasn’t just occasionally sharing art and music with each other anymore, either, it was a big stew of ideas, inspiration. A lot of breaking down what they liked in all the albums they shared with one another, and how they wanted to integrate all that in their work. Her siphoning gear and singing tips off of him, while she broke down expressions and visual composition to a science to help him out with modelling. And amid all that, something easygoing. Complaining about work, about weird clients, about shitty train rides, but also the nice parts of their days, too.

He’d gotten short with her today, and she got frustrated with him. They argued -- for the first time since they’d tossed aside client-and-professional for friends-and-colleagues -- and it turned out she was as passionate a spitfire as he, assuming she got in the right mood.

And in the middle of all that furious typing, she paused.

M: You know, it’s kind of relieving to argue with you like this.

Ranmaru was so startled, he forgot the point he was making.

R: what the hell are you talking about?

M: oh, come on, we both know I’ve used diplomacy to handle your grouchiness before, and that worked fine enough then. But I just appreciate that I trust you enough to not take such a safe approach, for once, and the thing you’re most upset about is that I didn’t feel comfortable calling you out on your horseshit sooner.

Ranmaru didn’t have an answer for that as she typed on and off. He imagined if this were a verbal conversation, this would be the point where he’d just listen while she strung her thoughts together -- wordily, but getting to good enough of a point that it was worth letting her meander.

Instead, she cut right to a point he wasn’t expecting.

M: hey, I’m not taking back anything I said, but I probably should’ve asked sooner. Are you doing OK? You always get stuck in asshole mode for a reason. I don’t have classes to teach today, so you can bend my ear if you need to. even on voice chat, if you like, japanese or english.

An uncomfortable wave of relief washed over him. He hadn’t told her about it, but things were the kind of stressful that pushed his stoic approach to its limits. Too many deadlines at work. Too many people there talking, too few saying anything he gave a damn about. Money was tight this month -- the debt collectors suddenly hiked up what he owed, and they’d banged down his door to “tell” him that. And another shitty argument with Camus, after he “freed” all his bananas for some ridiculous flambe parfait he just had to have for lunch on a day when Ranmaru couldn’t afford any.

This was just how things were. Why was he upset about it now? He was beyond cursing how things had turned out for him. Making useless wishes when there wasn’t anything to do but work and survive until he didn’t have anything to lament.

M: alright that’s a suspiciously long amount of time between messages for you when you’re riled up. are you OK? It’s fine if you’re not, and it’s fine if you don’t wanna talk to me about it, but i’m here if you want. If something’s really eating at you, that’s more important than me being mad. (for now, anyway)

It felt surreal as he leaned back to the computer and felt his fingers find the keys as he started finding the right words.

R: it’s not a light subject R: and it’s not on you to deal with it M: LOL bro c’mon. M: I eat heavy for breakfast, and I said I’m here for you. M: lay it on me

He wiped his tears away with his sleeve. It’d been long enough since he’d cried that he didn’t even think about how it’d smudge his makeup and stain his clothes, but he didn’t especially care as he started to explain himself, the words coming out hesitantly until they coalesced into a small cascade of short, tight sentences, heavy with years of restrained sorrow he’d ignored so aggressively until now.

---------

Recording Haruhana went well. Ranmaru expected it to, somewhat. Ai’s cold problem-solving could be annoying, but they never got in the way of the heart of his vocals. Their voices blended into an interesting harmony, and the acoustic guitar bridged their styles into a bittersweet sound they slipped into easily enough that recording sessions went uneventfully.

“It does not surprise me, but.“ Ranmaru couldn’t bring himself to outright glower at Ai as they stopped recording and stepped away from the mics. “You’re very good at conjuring a strong, wistful image with your voice.”

“Then why do you look surprised…” he grunted back, loosening and lowering the mic for whoever had it next. “...You do it well, too, but we already knew that.”

“The heart of things you’re so obsessed with,” he said plainly. “It wouldn’t do if we couldn’t bring truth to the emotions we write about.”

Ranmaru hadn’t given much thought to why Ai’s songs were so lamenting and sad, for the most part. He’d acknowledged they were genuine, had a tone color that suited him right, and made the fans happy. Truthfully, he’d only thought of those songs in the context of work -- Ai was a rival and a colleague he respected enough to sing with and not want to lose to, so he’d only looked at his songs from that standpoint, too. But Ranmaru realized better, now, just how good Ai was at sharing sadness that wasn’t so heavy it dragged people down with it. Wistfulness that grasped forward towards something, like a greater understanding.

“How’s the ballad going?”

Ranmaru clicked his tongue. “How’s your synthpop bubblegum bullshit going?” he shot back.

“Well,” Ai replied, unfazed. “I have the chord progressions and kits mapped out.”

“Good for you, then,” he grunted back. Great. So Ai was making good progress while Ranmaru hadn’t made any.

“Are you struggling?”

“Isn’t that the point of a ballad?!” Hopefully Ai couldn’t argue with that and would leave him alone from there.

“Shouldn’t you defer to a composer or lyricist if you’re stuck?”

Ranmaru glared at Ai. “If it’s a ballad, I should write it myself, not leave it to someone who’s just gonna put words and music I don’t mean into my mouth.”

“Past data suggests you won’t back down about this,” Ai said smoothly, stacking the notes and papers they’d brought into the studio neatly. “I suppose I should wish you luck, in that case, and remind you this is my album, too, and it’s the fans who are most important.”

“I know that,” Ranmaru spat, long done fussing with the mic.

*************

R: you hate ballads, right M: I sure do! :D R: why M: too slow for my tastes, sentimentality done like that isn’t my thing, don’t always feel genuine, you know R: that’s literally every problem i have with the big project at work right now M: oh no you have to make a ballad?? Like….poppy enough for shining agency and all that? Oh boy.... R: what’s your advice to making a ballad you don’t hate, then M: HMMMMMMMMMMMMM M: pass a kidney stone M: WAIT RANDY COME BACK I’LL HELP FOR REAL R: If you want to help why are you calling me randy?! M: suffering is the root of all good ballads. I’m helping R: can you at least remind me what the one ballad you like is M: oh, turn on your light M: judas priest M: it’s always judas priest R: so why don’t you hate it R: other than it’s judas priest M: oh, nothing big M: my first gf just made me a mixtape and confessed with it is all M: and that was my entry point into western metal M: sealing my fate forever as a queer metalhead and thereby forming the foundation of all my aesthetic, social, musical, and auditory sensibilities forevermore M: and some other stuff R: oh is that all “We are about to arrive at ____ station, please make your way to the doors if your stop is ____ station....”

R: what’s the other stuff M: oh dw about it M: it’s, you know, the stuff everyone brings to listening. the mushy baggage that lets ‘em connect with strangers. you know how it is

The train arrived right after that message went through, and he had to put his phone away over questioning her further. Recently, he’d felt more irritated with himself than usual. He knew he got this way when he felt he owed someone and hadn’t done his part to even the score.

He was kind of in the same camp as she when it came to slow songs. Rock was about energy, passion, an urging sense of power, and even if he could understand why those slower songs were important, it didn’t mean they had to always resonate with him. He thought about their exchange. She dropped art into their chats a lot because, as she insisted, it helped having a musician look at her work, instead of another illustrator. And he liked her perspective for the same reason -- more personal than a fan, but more refreshing than everyone else at the agency.

Really, it sounded like what made the ballad feel genuine was the context she could apply. It wasn’t just a song, but a personal gesture that singled her out from the millions of other people who’d hear the song and imagine it was for them.

Ranmaru frowned as he exited the train station. The solution to his ballad problem was simple, so obvious he felt stupid for overlooking it. If he expected people to connect to his music, he had to give people something to connect to. All he had to do was what he always did -- just go for what his heart told him to. No frills, no fancy trimmings, just something he wanted to honestly express.

He strung basslines in his head as he walked to his apartment. Let the music-making guide him, instead of demanding it follow rigid instructions. As he pushed the key into the lock, he caught the faint stain of his eyeliner on his sleeve.

Don’t look at me … while I dry my eyes....

His stomach lurched a little, but moreso he felt his body surge with the truth of the song he wanted to write. The same rush of a surging venue, somehow, but with the kind of wistfulness and earnest desire he appreciated in Ai’s work more now.

Tama had started to squeeze through the little crack in the door, investigating why Ranmaru had just stood there like an idiot for so long.

“...c’mon, you little dope,” Ranmaru said softly, surprised how breathy he needed to keep his voice to get past the tightness in his chest. He squatted down, scooped the soft little creature up, and walked straight to his workspace. He did the once-over his apartment he’d gotten in recent habit of, seeing if anything had been seized by the collectors while he was gone, before depositing Tama on a cat tree where Mike was sitting. He hummed a melody that was quickly taking shape, his hands barely keeping up as he grabbed a scrap of paper, scrawling notes as fast as his hands would let him.

*******************

Reiji looked up at Ranmaru in disbelief. Ranmaru scowled back.

“If you don’t want it,” he growled, reaching for the box he’d put in front of Reiji. “I’ll fucking take it back.”

“No! No no no, Ranran, I’m so grateful!” Reiji exclaimed, scrambling to slide it out of Ranmaru’s reach.

“Humph! If I didn’t know of your peasant tastes,” Camus started from across the table. “I’d just tell you you’re better off skipping this slop.”

“Oi!” Ranmaru pointed a spoon threateningly at Camus. “You don’t have to eat, asshole! You still owe me for ruining my bananas, and as far as I’m concerned this just means you owe me another meal!”

“You think your pauper’s tongue deserves the fineries I’d select, I see,” Camus said challengingly, tilting his head and crossing his legs. Ranmaru was a hair trigger away from just throwing the box with Camus’s portion right at him. Maybe it’d ruin that stupid suit and he’d learn to shut up.

“He-heeeey, Ranran, everything smells super good….I’m so excited to dig right in, but are those sauces I see?” Reiji interrupted. Ranmaru clenched his fist around the spoon as he turned his glower towards him.

He slammed the spoon down in front of Reiji. “Which sauce do you want, the spicy chili one or ketchup,” he managed through gritted teeth.

“O- ohhh, wow! So gourmet! We have options!” Reiji cheered, in that singsongy way he did when he was trying to smooth over disasters. “Ranran, I knew you could cook, but I never knew you were so talented! I wonder what’s in ---” Ranmaru was losing his patience, and he grabbed the bottle of homemade chili sauce, hovering it above Reiji’s portion. The bottle sputtered as the air escaped, and Ranmaru’s grip threatened to explode the whole thing right then and there. “ -- I’ll have just a little bit of the spicy one, haha…”

Ranmaru held his gaze a moment more before he focused back on the food, squeezing a reasonable amount onto Reiji’s portion. He opened the box with Camus’s, already dressed with a mountain of sweet chili sauce, stabbed the spoon into it, and slid it over.

“Is this omurice?” Ai asked. Ranmaru handed him his own box.

“Is the rice in the omelet?” he grunted. “It’s just a stuffed omelet you eat with rice.”

“Mm-mm! So good! I’ve never had spices quite like these! Is this a secret specialty dish you’ve been hoarding to yourself?”

Ranmaru, at this point, just wanted to sit down and eat. “No,” he grumbled, hoping they’d get the picture.

“I can’t recognize this preparation against any recipe I know of. Did you make it up yourself?”

“It’s one from a friend, alright? She sent me a bunch of chilis and herbs and I had to make something to use them all up. If you don’t like it, then you don’t have to eat it. Stop asking questions and let me eat!”

They ate quietly for a while, much to Ranmaru’s relief. Camus, of all people, was the one to end the silence.

“Kurosaki,” he said, taking an odd tone for a conversation with Ranmaru. “....You will share the recipe for this sauce immediately,” he said, an odd hush to his voice.

“And what if I don’t,” Ranmaru sneered back, feeling just a little smug. “You gonna pass out from a sugar crash and finally give me some peace?”

Before Camus finished his reply, Ranmaru took a bottle from his bag and tossed it at Camus, who disappointingly kept his composure through the surprise. “Maybe you’ll learn to eat some meat, now that you’ve got a way to slather it in sugar.”

The rest of Quartet Night all stopped again in surprise, the same way they did when Ranmaru said he’d made them all lunch for today. Their eyes burned on Ranmaru as he went back to his meal, and he tried very, very hard to not let it bother him.

“...Ranran, you’ve been acting different lately. Did you--”

“No,” he growled. “Whatever you think it is, no.”

******************************

M: oh dang M: wow dude M: i really don’t know what to say

Ranmaru stared at his phone in the dark, waiting as feedback from the other side of the world came in.

M: you fucking nailed it. I don’t know how you did it, like a week ago this wasn’t anything. M: now it’s a whole new side of you i don’t think your discography’s shown off yet M: the fans are gonna go apeshit

The rest of the song came to him in the kind of exciting, passionate fervor where his hands couldn’t keep up with the ideas. The melody followed the bassline very naturally, peppered in by flashes of lyrics that slowly built and reorganized themselves. And from there, more instrumentation became evident. What he had now was just enough to make the soul of the song clear, finished late tonight in the studio.

Already his head was filled with what more he could add, but they blended into blur of ideas he was too tired to separate.

M: can I confess something? I mean, i don’t know why I’m asking, you’re probably already asleep M: what you have here already made me cry a little bit M: i don’t know what you did, but you made a ballad that works so well. It really feels personal and so full of the soul everyone loves you for, but there’s something really sad and kind in there that makes my heart squeeze. M: and that’s even in the lyrics! (what i can understand of them, anyway haha) but you know how saccharine I find ballad lyrics most of the time!!! M: then again, it is you. I don’t think there’s anything you could ever make that would feel disingenuous lmao M: is it too late to ask if i can illustrate this album too....would Ai and the agency let me do that…. M: i can draw something that’s soft and rock as shit!!!! M: anyways M: you’re probably dead asleep but just know this: good work, dude. M: it really felt like you were saying something very heartfelt, even in this rough cut, and i think how personal that voice is is gonna make everyone feel such a feeling. M: it sure made me feel one!

He locked his phone, tearing himself away from the slow stream of messages coming in. He laid on his back, phone facedown in the blanket, as he stared up into the dark swallowing the room back up again. Every part of his body felt like it was on fire, burning to get back into the studio.

The lyrics weren’t complete yet. He wasn’t the poetic type, so it’s not as if he’d let himself overthink his words and lose their heart in too many revisions, but there were still blanks. The phrase that’d pull it all together, the words that summarized the message of the song, they still weren’t there, but he could feel himself getting closer.

It was about paying an unspoken debt, and it was about shame, but above all, it was about pride. In himself, for letting himself reach this point, and in someone else. That was the sort of connection he could sing himself to tears with, whether on the stage, the studio, or the clean, edited album, and for that, he was proud.

#iron maiden & rocka rolla #scribblings #it's been a while since i procrastinated shit i had to do with furious fic writing #and i've been some kind of feral lately over Be Proud like the song #so i guess this is where we're at lads

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t100ficrecsblog · 4 years

Text

an interview with @mobi-on-a-mission (she/her)

what are you working on right now? I'm in between fics right now after posting The Cockroach recently for Chopped! I'll likely start something new soon (I'm thinking of a canonverse forbidden lovers fic?), but we'll see where the muse takes me! When I'm not busy writing fic or being a human disaster I like to beta read. I beta read several fics for the Bellarke Big Bang, and I'm really excited to read them in their final form once that comes out! Beta reading may not be the first thing people think of with writing, but it's really elevated my experience with fanfic. It's a great way to let out my inner critic, participate in the writing process from a different angle, and read new fics before anyone else (hehe!) while helping out other writers. Going beyond 'this doesn't work' to 'this particular aspect isn't coming through right and here are some ideas on how to fix it' is the crucial step and has really made me a better writer!

I'm also excited to be accepting prompts for Bellarke Writers for Black Lives Matter. Send me a prompt and a donation to an organization of your choice which supports the BLM movement, and I'll write you a fanfic!

what’s something you’d like to write one day? I usually write whatever I want to write! One thing I've never tried though is an ot3. I enjoy them but at this point I don't think I could do that sort of relationship justice.

what is the fanwork you’re most proud of? Honestly I'm proud of all my fics. Each one carries its own challenges and rewards, so I never get in a rut! The work I'm most proud of, though, has got to be Revive. It's a canon compliant through s6 Memori pregnancy multichap that I wrote during hiatus. It's by far the longest fic I've ever written, and I wrote it at a time when I was still very uncomfortable writing fic. I must have had my eyes closed half the time I was drafting it, I was so nervous! But I finished it and posted it and from there on writing was just that much easier. I haven't looked back since.

why did you first start writing fic? I wrote my first "fic" in 2014, when I was 14 years old. Then I came back a year later with a really short oneshot. Both of those were for Supernatural, and they're still on my ao3. I was extremely nervous about writing, especially with the fear that my family would find out what I was doing. That fear kept me from writing for years and years, pining to write something. That is, until last July. I'd had enough. So I sat myself down and made myself write, every dad for three days until The Best Back Rubs (my first fic for The 100) was written. Again after that fic I had trouble writing. Four months later though I started writing Revive and like I said earlier, I just kept writing after that!

what frustrates you most about fic writing? The most frustrating thing about fic writing is lukewarm reception. As much as I hate to admit it, validation is important to me and I like to feel like people are enjoying what I write. When I spend a lot of time on a fic and get excited about posting it, a part of me is expecting a whole bunch of comments and kudos and hits. Sometimes that doesn't happen though! Usually that doesn't happen. I have to remind myself that those responses are not reflective of my value as a writer. My friends are a huge help with this!

what are your top five songs right now?

Sweet - Cigarrettes After Sex Foreigner's God - Hozier One More Hour - Anthony Ramos Combustible - Cœur de Pirate Undrunk - FLETCHER

what are your inspirations? My inspiration is a little bit different for every fic I write. I tend toward canonverse, so I pull from interesting aspects of canon and then let my imagination run wild with *what if*s. My own life inspires my writing as well. This helps me to add in little details to make the story feel more real. I've been inspired by writing prompts and movies and songs and other fics and snow falling outside my window!

The one thing that's constant is other writers. I learn so much from reading, beta reading, and of course talking to my friends! They help to give me ideas as well as motivation to keep going. Writing can be a lonely pursuit, but it doesn't have to be. There's only so much going on in my brain—connecting with others is what brings things to the next level.

what first attracted you to Memori? what attracts you now? From the first time they locked eyes, I shipped it a little! But in the beginning, I wasn't that invested in Memori. I kind of took them for granted until s5. But more on that later. What first attracted me to Memori was how non-traditional they are in that they're not standard cut good guys yet they were allowed to meet and fall in love. Add on top of that how they make each other better in a nuanced and imperfect way, and I'm hooked! I also really liked how they didn't beat around the bush with getting together. In a world where slowburn is seen as peak romance, it was refreshing to see a couple that was just like 'you? I like you' and then they got together and eventually became what is (in my possibly biased eyes) the strongest couple on the show at this point. Getting into s5, that's when I really became invested in the ship. It hurt to see their relationship problems like that, but it allowed them to grow from it in a beautiful way. Through it all, they have so much love for each other. They're imperfect people and they make mistakes, but at the end of the day they learn from it and become better as a couple than they are alone. Their devotion to each other really is something else!

Besides Memori, what character or pairing do you like best on t100? Funny story: I actually decided to start watching The 100 after reading Bellarke smut on ao3! It was a non-traditional introduction to the story, but something must have clicked with me and I was a Bellarke shipper from the start (even though I frankly detested Bellamy in the beginning). I still ship them, even though Memori has taken my heart! Oh yeah and I got to give a shoutout to Niytavia as well because apparently canon isn't going to feed us with content for them.

why did you decide to start writing for bellarkefic-for-blm? It's pretty simple, really: Black lives matter should not be a controversial statement, and this is one of the ways I can help make our world a little less sucky for Black people.

what’s your writing process like (esp for prompts, chopped!, etc)? Every fic I write begins with a hodge podge of ideas. Sometimes I scribble them in a notebook and sometimes I use the computer, but it's always a creative mess! Recently I've been using Notion, a free editor which has a great desktop app. A writer friend turned me on to it and now I use it for writing as well as other life stuff too! It's easy to drag and reorganize ideas, so it really helps take a brainstorm mess to a working outline. Once an idea starts taking form I organize my ideas into related pieces and some end up getting thrown out. I craft "scenes" out of this and soon it becomes clear what pieces I'm missing. I fill in those pieces, throw out or rework stuff that doesn't work together, and pretty soon I have an outline.

I absolutely love getting prompts! I haven't gotten one through Bellarke Writers for Black Lives Matter (yet!), but I've written in a few rounds of Chopped. Most recently wrote for Chopped 3.0 Round 2 and won 1st place for best overall with my Memori fic The Cockroach. The biggest difference that comes when writing from a prompt like that is I need to make sure the fic not only fits the prompt but breathes life into it!

what are some things you’d like to recommend? Remember how I mentioned I beta read? Yeah. Right now my friend Kara, aka @queenemori, is writing a slowburn Memori actors au called We Don't Need To Say It. It's out of this world amazing and I am so hype to be a part of the process. The first chapters are up on ao3 and I cannot recommend it enough. ed’s note: this fic just updated!

For writers who are looking for a push, I highly recommend participating in Chopped. Fandom events are fun, the prompts make you get creative, and writing deadlines inspire you to actually get them finished and out there!

I know some of you need to hear this: drink some water! It's good for you and it's yummy yummy in your tummy!

The best place to find @mobi-on-a-mission is right here on Tumblr. Her AO3 is here. Request a fic written by her via @bellarkefic-for-blm.

#bellarkefic4blm #emori kom spacekru #john murphy #bellarke #niytavia #the 100 fanfiction #bellarkefic for blm interviews

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mirkwoodshewolf · 4 years

Text

You’re my best friend; John Deacon x reader

*Author’s note*

Okay wow I can’t believe I almost missed this deadline but I had this story already up on my Wattpad for the past 2 months so I wanted to transfer it once this deadline came. This is for @writing-of-a-british-bitch‘s 1k challenge and I asked to do the “Your my best friend” song choice.

Now some things had transpired between joining this contest and the time I decided to write it and I really needed to get this pain out. As some of you may know from a post over 2 months ago, I lost my baby black kitty Sassy to Kidney failure. And I realize this was meant to be a fluff fic but I couldn’t help but really write this fic in memory of my baby girl. So some fluff and angst but sadly mostly angst is in this fic. So I apologize if I kinda went back on my word Phoebe but I hope this is still okay for your contest.

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things

@waddles03

@psychosupernatural

@ixchel-9275

@queendeakyy

@simonedk

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

@kairosfreddie

@dancingcoolcat

@geek-and-proud

____________________________________________________________

Kidney Failure. Those are two words that no pet owner wants to hear. My beautiful baby girl Sassy had officially been diagnosed with Kidney failure as well as Kidney stones. At first with her not eating I thought she was just being a little stubborn, then after doing some scary research on why senior cats won't eat, it showed signs of her dying. Then after seeing her cough up some blood early one morning before I wanted to go see a movie, I was told by my parents to take her straight to the vet.

And since I was dealing with this all alone, I was forced to be told by myself and suffer for a full day of the news of my precious black kitty. I had gotten her 15 years ago shortly after my first cat Missy died. She was rescued by an independent rescue woman who had a house full of cats, out of thousands of cats she had, a small, tiny and very skittish kitten stood out of all the rest. Even though at the time my mom wanted a white cat with blue eyes and pink ears, we fell in love with this cute little girl, and I named her Sassy after the cat from Homeward Bound.

For years she was always the skittish girl. Anytime a doorbell would ring, she'd rush out and hide all day. But she was the sweetest cat anyone could ask for. I would always bring her up into my room whenever things got too stressful in my life, or I just wanted to be with her. I'd put her on my bed and just let her sleep there for all hours of the day.

As time went on, she even came to my own rescue like when I got my wisdom teeth removed and I had to recover up in my room. The first night, Sassy had actually came up into my room willingly, hopped right on my bed and slept right beside me for about 3 hours. She's my baby and now she's suffering the same fate my male cat did just several years ago.

My girl's always been the one with health problems throughout her life. First it was the UTI's, then bladder stones, and now she has to take some pills for her thyroid for the rest of her life (she's been on the thyroid pills for roughly about 3 years now), but this—this just blows everything out the window cause now it's evident that she's possibly coming close to the end of her days.

The vet told me what all needed to happen, a couple days of IV to get her fully hydrated, some anti-biotics, and just keeping her as comfortable as possible. So she went through the two days of IV, she's currently on the antibiotic and just has 3 more days to take it while still taking her thyroid pills (I now had to resort to giving it to her liquidly through a syringe since she no longer does the pill pockets anymore).

I don't wanna lose my baby girl. She's my life, my baby, my best friend and I—I don't know what I'm gonna do when the time comes for her when she finally.....

"(Y/n)?" I looked up and there was my dad.

"Hey dad."

"Sweetie, how are you doing? Really?" he said as he came into my room and sat down by my bed.

"I—I'm scared dad. I don't wanna lose my girl. On top with all the stress of trying to find a job, I just can't even focus on anything else but my baby girl."

"I know, I know sweetie." He brought me closer for a hug and I allowed the tears to softly fall down my face. "Maybe—you should get out of the house. Go see those friends of yours, isn't that offer for you to join them at the farm still available?"

"But dad I don't wanna leave Sassy behind. What if she dies while I'm away? That's already what happened to both Hudson and Missy because of school. And I promised that if it ever came Sassy's time I wouldn't allow anything to keep me away from her."

"But if you just solely keep focused on her, you're only gonna make yourself sick. What you need now is time to yourself, spend it with your friends, maybe they can help you out. Maybe even John can help you see. Cause at this rate I feel like you'll only listen to that boyfriend of yours." I softly chuckled as he did to.

"I think I'll just surprise them. They always drop by unannounced at my place either way." He chuckled and said.

"Whatever you want to do. I will watch Sassy for you and make sure she's comfortable. And I promise you if anything does happen, I'll give you a call."

"Thanks dad. I'm glad you came back early."

"Of course. Sassy's important to all of us." I nodded. "You get some sleep now okay sweetie, you've got a long drive ahead of you." I nodded again as my dad kissed the top of my head and gave me a big bear hug.

Once he left my room after shutting my door, I lay there on my bed and allowed the tears to continue to fall as I silently cried myself to sleep.

A few hours later I was on the open road heading towards Rockfield farm where my friends and boyfriend John Deacon. Oh yeah I forgot to mention, John Deacon of Queen is my long time boyfriend. We got together roughly at around Year 10 of secondary school, and even though we ended up going to different colleges, we still kept close to each other with visits and holiday stuff.

In fact, I was the one who convinced him to try out for Queen since I had Freddie Mercury in an art class of mine. And he just decided to take me in as his best friend since we both loved cats (the first time I showed him a picture of my two furbabies he was hooked and wanted to know everything about them).

So I introduced John to the band when Fred told me they needed a new bassist, he auditioned and—the rest was history. As mentioned earlier they were currently at Rockfield farm studios recording their next album 'A Night at the Opera'. Deacy had offered the chance for me to tag along as moral support/citizen critic but when I told him that I was worried about Sassy, he understood but kept the offer open in case I changed my mind.

After what felt like an eternity of driving I finally arrived at the farm just a little bit after 10:30am. I parked the car right next to a blue beetle and got out of my car after shutting off the engine. I looked around the place and saw that it was definitely far out of civilization and distractions, maybe this could be what I needed.

"(Y/n)?" I heard a voice say. I turned around and wearing a pink woman's top and white pants holding a cigarette between his fingers was none other than Freddie Mercury.

"Hey Fred."

"Oh darling it's been so long come here!" I walked over to him as he tossed the cigarette aside into the gravel and extended his arms out. I was then given the biggest bear hug that Freddie is known to give. "Why didn't you tell us we were coming?"

"Figured I surprise you all. You're not pissed are you?"

"Absolutely not dear, a visit from you is like seeing an angel grace our presence. And maybe this time Deacy can pick up the slack." I softly giggled as we separated from each other. "So how are things at home? Deacy said poor Sassy was feeling under the weather, how is the little dear?" at that point I grew sad again. "(Y/n)? Dear was it something I said?"

"Freddie I—the reason I came here was because of Sassy. She's—not doing so good." At that point his face grew worried.

"Come darling, let's sit on the porch swing and talk. You look like you're about to burst into tears." He wrapped an arm around me as we walked towards the front porch of the house and sat down on the cushioned porch swing. Freddie sat to my left and said, "Now then darling, tell me everything." I took a deep breath and proceeded to tell him.

"Last Sunday Mary and I were planning on going to see a movie, but as I was getting around I had seen Sassy laying near where she had just spit up, but what scared me was that there was blood mixed with the phlegm that she had puked up. So I called Mary and told her I had to take her to the vet, they ran some tests on her and......" I sniffled and felt the tears starting to come back. "Freddie she's suffering from kidney failure." He gasped in horror as he covered his mouth with his hand.

"Oh my god......(y/n) I—I'm so sorry dear. Oh come here you." He brought me close into his chest and tears once again began to fall down my face. "Oh my poor dear, I can't imagine what you must be feeling. If it were one of my darlings, I'd be feeling just as heartbroken as you. How—how long has she got?"

"Well thankfully the doctor said if we just keep an eye on her. Cause she's still drinking water, going to the bathroom, and eating when she wants to she could live a little while longer. But Freddie—she's 6lbs now and every time you hold her—you can just feel her bones. It's like picking up a stuffed animal at this point."

"Oh the poor little darling. Does she still walk?"

"Yeah she can still walk, but she—she drags her back legs or stumbles around before just giving up. We're trying to keep her on the main level of our house trying to limit the amount of times of her going either up or down the stairs. Sometimes she'll eat twice a day, sometimes it'll take her well over 24 hours before she eats again."

"Okay. So what all have you done for her?"

"Well she had to do 2 days of IV to get her rehydrated. Now she's on an antibiotic for the next ten days, she'll be done with it in three days so my dad's gonna finish it all off. He said I needed a break from all the stress cause along with her being sick and me struggling to find a job, I've barely been able to keep myself together."

"Your dad's a smart man. Cause dear no offense but you really look like shit."

"Gee thanks Freddie." I sassed back sarcastically.

"Now, now I don't mean any offense by it. I'm just—"

"I know what you mean Fred. Its just—I don't wanna lose my baby girl. I know she's getting older hell she's 16 years old. But I—I don't wanna lose my baby just yet. Not when my life is fully about to begin."

"I know darling, I know." He comforted me as he rubbed my back. I felt him kiss the crown of my head. "Listen to me, okay? You gave that beautiful black cat the best 16 years of her life. And who knows maybe she'll tough it out and stick with you for another 3 years. She knows you love her, and knows that you are doing everything to take care of her."

"You truly are the cat guru Freddie."

"Well comes with experience. But I've seen for myself the love you've given that precious thing. And, god forbid, when the day does come for her to move on, she'll have you to thank for being the best mummy cat she's ever had. And loved her even with her being the skittish thing that she was. Cause other than you, I would've been the only one to see the potential in her."

"Yeah she was a precious thing when I saw her and briefly got to play with her when she was just a kitten." Freddie wiped my tears away with the sleeve of his shirt and he asked me.

"Feeling any better?"

"A little. Thanks Freddie. It takes a cat parent to understand just what I'm going through."

"I'm always here for you dear. And hey, just so you know, my furbabies are your furbabies. They love you just as much as your own do, so anytime you need to come over, they'll be happy to see you."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"Shall I get Deacy?"

"Actually I would like to come in, I've been driving since 1am this morning and I could really use a bed right now."

"Or is it just so you and Deacy can—"

"Get your mind out of the gutter you rotter!" he chuckled and said.

"Of course dear, come in come in I'll grab your bags." I went to protest but he stopped me, "No darling I will not take no for an answer." He grabbed my suitcases and we entered inside the house.

It was a charming little house of sorts with old knick-knacks, pictures whether painted or old photographs, and completely wooded interior. Kinda reminded me of my grandparent's place a little bit, a true country home.

"My darlings, we've got a surprise visitor with us to—" Freddie announced as we came into the kitchen. "Oh fuck seriously Roger? I thought I heard a crash but never did I think you'd go that far."

"What else do you expect Fred? Brian said my song wasn't strong enough so I figured I'd show him if this was strong enough!!"

"Perhaps I shouldn't have come after all." I made myself known. At that point Deacy popped right out of his seat and rushed right over towards me and embraced me. I hugged him back and buried my face into his neck. God every time I got a hug from the love of my life, I was already happy and at home with him.

"Why didn't you call and tell me you were coming?"

"And miss the surprise look on your face? I don't think so." He chuckled before separating from me to cup the side of my face. I felt his calloused thumb stroke my cheek gingerly and he placed a soft kiss to my brow.

"Ugh it's too early for you guys to act all lovie-dovie!" Roger complained.

"Oh put a sock in it Rog!" I sassed at him.

"It really is good to see you here (y/n). so what brought on this surprise visit?" asked Brian. My smile dropped and I solemnly looked down.

"My love?" Deacy asked concerned.

"Deacy dear why don't you take (y/n) downstairs to your room and get her situated. She could really use some sleep right now, then come back up and I'll explain everything." Freddie set my stuff down and went up to Brian and Roger and wrapped his arms around their shoulders to guide them out of the kitchen.

"What's he talking about love?"

"It's—the reason why I'm here isn't a happy reason. I wish it was but I—"

"Okay, okay, okay relax. Calm down my love. Come on let's go downstairs, though I must warn you the room isn't very big."

"I'll take whatever it is Johnny." He grabbed my suitcases as wrapped an arm around me as he guided me towards the basement stairs.

And boy was he ever right. How could my beloved possible sleep in a room this cramped, not to mention cold? He set my stuff right by his before guiding me to the bed. He sat down close to me and said.

"Do you want to tell me? Or should I go up to see Freddie?"

"I—I can tell you."

"You sure?" I nodded. "Alright, if you say so. But before you speak, take a couple of deep breaths with me, okay?" he slowly breathed in and I followed behind him. We held our breath for three seconds before slowly exhaling out for five. We did this together over and over and over again till finally I was ready to tell him, and I told him everything in regard to Sassy.

As I explained everything, every now and then I would stop because I could feel tears springing in my eyes. Jesus just when I thought I had cried my last tear, they still keep coming. But my sweet, loving John had tissues at the ready and he would hand me one to wipe my face, before sitting himself even closer to me resting his head on top of mine while his arms were wrapped around me rubbing either my back or arms comfortingly.

"Oh my love. You should've called me as soon as you were told the news. You know I would've dropped everything just to be with you, to comfort you through this." He said once I had finished telling him everything.

"I didn't want to disturb you John. This album is really important to Queen and I—didn't want to distract you."

"Fuck the album, you're my first priority."

"John."

"I mean it (y/n). if you ever asked me to leave the band I will."

"You know I would never ask that of you."

"I know, I'm just saying I would. I just—I just hate the fact that I had to let you get the news alone. I knew your dad left to spend time with your mum for their anniversary together which left you to take care of Sassy and Phoebe, and to get such news all on your own." He kissed my cheek and softly stroked my cheek.

"Why are you so good to me?"

"Your my best friend, (y/n). I'll always be good to you." He leaned in and captured my lips in a soft kiss. I cupped the side of his face before separating from him and pressing my forehead to his while I felt his nose graze against mine.

I then wrapped my arms around his neck while I felt his arms wrap around my waist. He pulled me close to him so that I practically sitting on his lap. I felt his hand rub comforting circles on my back before slowly leaning back. The slightly rickety bed creaked and it was definitely a tight squeeze, but we somehow made it work with me practically lying on top of him, our legs tangled up with each other's and my head resting against his chest.

"God how did you manage to sleep on this tiny bed?" I asked.

"Trust me it's not easy. But somehow I've managed."

"The boys didn't boot you down here did they?"

"No, Paul actually gave me this room. Said that small ones don't get nearly as cold."

"Aww Deacy I'm so sorry." I cupped his jawline to which he nuzzled against my hand and gave my palm a kiss.

"Not your fault. But how are you, really (y/n)."

"Truthfully my head is literally killing me."

"Probably from dehydration from all the crying you must've been doing." He said as I felt him stroke down my hair. He kissed my forehead and set me down on the bed. "I'll get you some water and snacks for you. Gotta get you rehydrated and eating again." He pecked my nose and I smiled at him.

"Thank you Johnny."

"Anytime my love. Stay here, I'll be right back." He brushed the hair out of my face before giving me a soft peck before heading upstairs. I sighed and rested my head onto the pillows and inhaled John's scent from his shampoo that I had bought for him. It gave me a sense of comfort even while he was gone for a brief moment.

He came back down with a bottle of water and a couple bags of crisps.

"You really went all out didn't you?" I teased.

"Well if I know you, I know that when you get really sad, you tend to skip meals. And I know this isn't really the best thing for you to eat right now, but it's all we've got since Roger knocked down the leftovers bitching about his car song."

"His car song?"

"It's better if you don't ask." He sat down on the floor beside me and laid out the bags of crisps then unscrewed the bottle cap of water before placing the straw in. He held it out to me and I took a sip of it. After taking a long drink, he set it down on the nightstand right beside the bed and opened up one of the bags of crisps and proceeded to feed me.

"I can feed myself you know."

"I know, but you've been under a lot of pressure lately. With the unsuccessful job hunts as well as Sassy being sick, the least I can do is pamper you my darling. Now c'mon open up." He guided a potato crisp towards my mouth and I opened my mouth as he popped it inside my mouth.

Deacy kept on feeding me as well as giving me sips of water. Finally after feeling full from the crisps, he set them aside and crawled back into the bed with me.

"Wait, don't you have some recording to do?"

"I talked to the guys about it, I'm gonna stay here and take care of my baby today."

"No Deacy I—I'll just delay your schedule......"

"It's already said and done love, besides Freddie insisted that I stay with you. I can make up my bits tomorrow." I looked up at him and said.

"Thank you Deacy, it—this means a lot. Really, with Sassy being—"

"Shhhh, shhh. Just sleep my love. You really need it." He whispered as he gingerly stroked my cheek with the back of his fingers. I closed my eyes and cuddled close to him, his hand tucked underneath my shirt and I felt his nails gently stroke up and down my back comfortingly. The mixture of his scent, his breathing and his heartbeat was like a lullaby that soothed me to sleep.

A week later, I was starting to feel a bit better than I had back at home. Deacy and the boys provided the perfect distraction, Freddie gave me a mini piano lesson as he was practicing his latest masterpiece that he deemed was going to change music forever, Brian and I would take pictures of the guys whether for his scrapbooking or just out of plain goofiness, and Roger—well Roger spent three days in a cupboard but at least he was still willing to talk to me even through the cupboard.

And of course Deacy was an angel with the warm cuddles and bass playing. I've always found comfort in seeing him play the bass, he was in his element and it was amazing to see him break out of the shy exterior and just be him. I was laying on the couch in the studio and he was fiddling around with his bass.

"Can you play me something?" I asked. He looked up and he asked.

"What would you like me to play? Liar? White Queen?"

"Do you think you can give me a sneak peek at a song from this album?"

"Well legally I'm not allowed to but....off the record if there were no Prenter nor sound engineer to be around." He stated as he got up and went over to the sound station and flipped a couple of switches.

"You clever, devious man." I giggled.

"That's why you love me. C'mere." I got up from the couch and went up to the chair he was now sitting at. He extended his hand as I got closer to him and I took his hand. He then had me sit down on his lap and I felt his arm wrap around my waist. "This was finished the night before you came to the farm. I.....I had you in mind when I was writing it."

"Oh god Deacy please tell me it's nothing like Misfire was."

"No not this time. I promise, and in a way....you can think of this song as yours and Sassy's song." He turned on the switch and soon playing through the speakers was an electric sounding instrument. "That's me on the electric piano."

"Really?"

"Yeah, Fred wanted absolutely no part of it so I sat down all night learning how to play it so that I could have it ready for recording." I awed at him and he gave me a peck to my temple and I soon heard the magnificent vocalizations of all four of my boys singing at once, their voices backtracked by their own voices making it sound like there was an entire choir backing them up. Freddie's god-like voice singing the gentle melody of the words.

"What's it called?"

"You're my best friend." He lay my head on his shoulder and the two of us listened to the song together. I'll admit the lyrics did fit Sassy to a T. She has been there for me before in the past and she was always the one I turned to when things got rough and no one else was there for me.

When the song finally ended, I turned to John and hugged him, my arms wrapped around his neck.

"That is literally the sweetest thing anyone's ever done for me. Thank you John."

"I'm glad you liked it love."

"Like? Deacy 'like' doesn't even begin to describe what this song meant to me. You and Sassy are both my best friends."

"And I'm happy to share you, even if it is with a feline." I giggled and playfully nudged his shoulder which made him chuckle. "God I've really missed seeing you smile."

"What are you talking about? I've been smiling the whole time I was here."

"Oh you mean the ones that don't reach up to your eyes, the smiles that don't make your eyes twinkle and a laugh come out of that beautiful mouth of yours. Yeah those were real smiles." He sassed sarcastically.

"Okay smartass. Maybe I've—still been depressed about not being with my girl."

"And there's nothing wrong with missing her. But you also need to learn to take care of yourself as well. You looked absolutely exhausted when you first arrived, it was like you'd hardly slept a wink." I looked down shamefully. "I just want you to realize that in order for you to be there for Sassy, you also need to learn to take care of yourself. Do you understand what I'm trying to say my love?"

"Yes Deacy, I understand. I'm sorry."

"Hey, you've got no reason to be sorry. You caring about Sassy this much proves that you're a good cat mum. And maybe in the future, you'll be the same way with our own child." I smiled through a choked sob. I buried my face into John's neck as I felt his hand go underneath my shirt and once again stroking my bare skin sending comforting shivers up my back.

"I love you so much John Deacon."

"I love you so much too (y/n) (l/n)." I looked up at him and he smiled down at me softly and kissed the center of my forehead, the tip of my nose, both cheeks then finally a soft and loving kiss to my lips. "Besides, I always knew one surefire way to get that beautiful smile on your face." Oh shit.

I immediately got off his lap and went back to the couch and held the pillow out in front of me.

"Why ever did you flee from me my love?" he asked in a mocked hurt tone.

"Not another step Deacon. I know what your method is and you're not doing it."

"Whatever do you mean?" oh that little rotter he was taunting me.

"Don't make me say it Deacy!" I begged as I buried my body into the covers leaving only my head to the outside world.

"Well you're gonna have to cause all I'm doing is walking towards you and all you're doing is trying to hide yourself under the blankets and pillows." He continued to taunt as he now hovered over me, his body pinning mine to the couch.

"Deacy no!" I whined.

"No what?"

"Deacy!"

"You're gonna have to specify what I can't do my darling." He cupped the side of my face after tucking some hair behind my ear and captured my lips in a seductive kiss. He almost had me under his spell, that was until I felt him squeeze my sides through the blanket. I squealed and tried to buck him off me but he stayed on top of me. "My, my, my, what have we here?"

"John I swear to god I'll kill you if you do it."

"Do what? All I did was just graze your sides and you just reacted to it. Now what do they call that thing again when people get so sensitive to a light touch?" he pondered.

My god this little shit was good. He was trying to force me to say it.

"John please!" I begged to him with the best puppy dog eyes I could muster.

"Aww look at you pleading and begging with those eyes, it's so adorable. But it won't stop me. Now answer my question." I felt him squeeze my sides again and I let out a soft shrieked laugh. "God if I didn't know any better I'd say you didn't want me to......"

"Tickle me!" I blurted out.

"What a wonderful idea! You always were terribly ticklish." I then pushed him off of me and decked out of the recording studio and began racing around the barn.

I went inside the barn and tried to duck through or go around any beams I could find.

"You're not going to escape from me (n/n). You know you were always the slowest runner."

"Shut up Deacon! It's cause you always cheated with those long legs of yours!" I snapped as I ducked through the hay storage bin before getting out on the other side.

Deacy continued to chase after me for what felt like forever. And I don't know when they became involved or why they chose to do it, but somehow Roger and Freddie got involved with the chase and I was soon tackled out in the field by Roger and he was the first to start tickling me before Freddie then finally my boyfriend Deacy joined in the attack.

The three of them tickling me non-stop till I was red in the face and could barely breathe. Fred and Rog would've gone on forever had John not stopped them and forced them to let me breathe. Once I was able to catch my breath, I turned towards the two troublemakers and said.

"Where.....in the hell.....did you two.....come from?"

"From London." Freddie bluntly shrugged.

"I know that smartass. I meant during the chase." I groaned.

"Oh that well when we saw Deacy chasing you, Fred and I just want in on the action. It didn't matter what we had to do, just as long as it got you to smile kid." Roger said as he gave my hair a ruffle, messing it up.

"Roger! Rog you're messing up my hair!" I said as I tried to get his hand off my head but he would keep putting it back on top and messing my hair up even further.

"But you've got to admit darling, we did get you to smile that fabulous smile that can only be compared to Mary's." said Freddie as he wrapped an arm around me. "Plus didn't that help you just a little bit?"

"Yeah I guess so. Thanks guys, for real this week has—literally been a life saver. I think I'm ready to head back home tomorrow."

"What so soon? But darling we were just having so much fun!" whined Freddie as he brought me close to his chest.

"Plus you help lessen the stress that Prenter causes us." Said Rog.

"And the stress we cause each other. You sure you can't stay a bit longer?"

"Sorry Deacy, I gotta get back to my girl." He rubbed my back and said.

"Okay. Just—promise to call me in case anything happens. You know I'll gladly drop things here to be with you." I cupped the side of his face and stared at him lovingly.

"I'll even allow us to take time off the album so that all of us can be there for you darling." Fred said I turned towards him and Roger and saw that Roger nodded agreeing with both Fred and Deacy.

"You guys—how did I ever get lucky to have such good friends like you all?"

"You've honestly been a blessing to us dear. Never doubt that." Soon I was in a group hug with the front man, the drummer and the bassist of Queen.

The next morning I was all packed up and was hugging the guys goodbye and thanking them for helping me out this past week. I had just gotten done hugging Rog and Bri and I was now at Freddie. He smiled at me and embraced me tightly and he said in my ear.

"You be sure to call us with any updates Sassy's got."

"I will I promise." He separated from me and kissed both my cheeks.

"Drive safe (y/n) dear."

"Will do Fred." I then turned towards the love of my life, my best friend. He held his arms out and I immediately went into them and hugged him back.

"I'm so glad that you came to visit love. Drive safely back home, and call me whenever you get there."

"I will, promise me you'll continue to work hard on the album."

"Will do love." He kissed me but it was shortly interrupted by Prenter exclaiming.

"Enough of this already the boys need to get back to work!"

"Alright Prenter that's it come here!" Roger then charged after Prenter which made John and I laugh softly.

"Should we try to stop him?" I asked.

"Nah, let him take his prey. Besides he deserves it, Prenter's an arsehole anyway." He kissed my temple softly before hugging me one last time. I got into my car and waved goodbye to the guys one last time before taking off back down towards the main road.

Three days later after returning from the farm, I was back at home just waking up for the day. I once again saw Sassy lying there on the couch just like she was last night. I sighed and went up to Sassy and pet her and she shot her head up and looked at me.

"Hey baby girl, ready for your medicine?" she just looked at me before laying her head down. I went over to the sink and prepped the water bottle cap (at this point she had stopped taking the pill pockets, and since I could no longer force it down her, I resorted to liquidating the ¼ pill).

After waiting a couple of minutes I sucked the water into a syringe and walked back over to the couch. Gently as I could, I picked her up and she let out a weak meow.

"I know baby, I know. But this is just the water one this time. You got done with the antibiotic awhile ago." I placed the syringe into her mouth and she weakly opened her mouth but was still able to take in the water. Once she took it all in, I kissed her and took her over to the water bowl cause I knew she probably drink any water since last night. "Here we go baby, drink up."

I gently set her down and she merely just lay there for a moment before realizing where she was. Her head shot up and she reached her paw over the water bowl like how she normally drinks and went face first into the water, her usual way of drinking water.

Once she had her fill after lying down a few times before going back up again to drink some more. I picked her up once more and set her back down on the couch. Since it was a sunny day for the first time in a while, I decided to let my girl sunbathe, her favorite thing to do whenever the sun was out.

"Here you go little mama." I cooed as I stroked her head and kissed it. I then went back upstairs and got ready for the day. The phone rang and I picked it up and answered, "Hello?"

'Hey sweetie. Whatcha doin?' it was my dad's voice.

"Oh just—getting around and all that."

'Ahh I see. How's our girl doing?'

"She's....hanging in there." I looked towards her to see her still breathing.

'Okay good, good. So what have you got on the agenda for today?'

"Well Mikaela is coming to pick me up and we're gonna hang out for my graduation/pre b-day plans."

'Ahh I see, what time is she coming over?'

"About 10ish."

'Okay well you girls have fun and I will talk at you later okay?'

"Okay daddy, love you."

'Love you too sweetie, bye.'

"Bye." I hung up the phone and turned back towards my baby. I walked up to her and as I touched her, her paws twitched and she turned and looked up at me. "I love you so much baby girl." I kissed her head and she turned away from me. With a heavy sigh, I walked back upstairs and got around.

A couple minutes later at 10:07am I walked back downstairs to see Phoebe sitting up on the table looking at Sassy's food bowl that was there.

"Phoebe get down!" I snapped at her. She meowed as she hopped down and ran off. That's when I looked down to see the most horrifying sight I would ever see in my life.

Sassy's eyes were glazed over, and I couldn't see her breathing anymore.

"Sassy? Sassy? Sassy!" I touched her fur hoping to see her react but when he jaw went slacked, tears sprung in my eyes and I fell to my knees. I picked her up in my arms and held her close to me as I sobbed. "Sassy! No! No! No! Sassy please no!" I sobbed as I paced around the room hoping that she would wake up but all she did was lay limp against my shoulder. I placed her down on the loveseat to see if she would breathe again but she didn't.

Sassy was gone.

I ran up to the phone and dialed my dad's number and pleaded softly that he would pick up.

'Hello?' he asked.

"Daddy."

'Yeah?' his voice sounded concerned as soon as he heard the heartbreak in my voice.

"I think Sassy's dead!" I sobbed out.

'Oh my god our cat just died.'

"She was fine earlier as I said. She drank some water but when I came back downstairs I noticed that she's no longer breathing, her eyes are glazed over and she's just limp every time I hold her!"

'Okay, okay (y/n) calm down okay sweetie. Calm down. Here's what I want you to do. I want you to get her cat carrier and a towel.'

"Okay."

'Okay? Then put the towel in the cat carrier and then I want you to gently put her in and take her to the vet, okay? They'll work out the cremation process.'

"Okay."

'And sweetie listen to me. At least she died at home, okay? She passed away peacefully, safe and at home instead of a cold, strange metal table. Because I had to go through that with Hudson and it was not a pretty sight. It broke me, but you gave Sassy a happy life and even with you taking care of her on your own for a while she knew you loved her.' I choked out a sob and nodded.

"I know."

'Okay but go take her to the vet, I'll call your mom and she'll get in touch with the vet.' I nodded.

"Okay I'll take her to the vet."

'Okay now your mom will be available all day for you if you need to get in touch with her. I've got a meeting to get to in the next while. But call your mom anytime you need to talk.'

"Okay."

'Okay I love you sweetheart, it's gonna be okay. At least she's not suffering anymore and that she's now at peace.'

"Yeah."

'Alright sweetie, I love you so much.'

"I love you too."

'Bye.'

"Bye." I hung up the phone and proceeded to get her ready to take her to the vet one last time. I grabbed a towel from my bathroom and tucked it in her cat carrier. I looked down at my baby with tears pouring down my face. Once I got her in the cat carrier on her side, I quickly wrote a note for Mikaela and taped it to the door before finally rushing out to my car and race towards the vet.

When I got there, I stood there waiting for what felt like forever in the small vet clinic till finally one of the vet techs came in. She walked over to me, empathy in her eyes and she said.

"Your mum called and told us what happened. We'll get started with the cremation process, are there any questions you have for us?"

"Just.....just make sure that this is for real. I—don't wanna try anything unless I know it's for real."

"Okay." She took my cat carrier and walked into the back room. I sat down by the window trying to calm myself down. The doors opened and there stood my best friend Mikaela.

"Hey I got your message, are you okay?"

"I don't know dude. Thank god you're here though."

"Of course, of course." She sat down beside me and wrapped an arm around me. It was then the vet came in from the back room and he greeted me.

"She has passed away. Along with the kidney stones and failure, she also suffered a stroke." I covered my mouth with my hand and allowed the tears to pour down my face even more. "We can prep the cremation. Would you like the pawprint as well as her ashes or just the pawprint?"

"Just the pawprint." I replied.

"Okay, before we take her away would you like to see her?" I turned to Mikaela before turning back to the vet and said.

"Yes."

"Okay. Come back with me." I followed behind him and Mikaela told me she'd wait outside. I went through the back door and right there on the table I saw my baby girl lying right on her stomach, her front paws extended outwards and her eyes still glassed over, her fangs exposed as her jaw was still slightly lacked.

"Take all the time you need." the vet told me as one of the technicians came and covered up just her lower body. I nodded before leaning down and pet her one last time, trying to imprint her soft fur into my hand, and my memory.

"At least she died at home, where she was most happiest." Said one of the female vet technicians.

"Yeah. She—she was sunbathing on the couch. She always loved it when the sun was out and I would open up the blinds."

"Yeah. I'll bet she really appreciated it."

"It just—with all the health problems she's had throughout her life I just hoped that....."

"I understand. Especially with all that she had been through for the past week." I nodded before turning back to my baby girl. I knelt down and gave her one final kiss before finally saying.

"Okay. Okay I—I think I'm ready." Then another vet tech came up and fully covered up my baby girl forever, the final step in pronouncing her dead.

"We'll get in contact with your mom about the billing. Again we're so sorry for your loss." The same vet tech that I was talking to earlier about my baby girl.

"Thank you." I said thanks the vet techs as well as the vet for all that they've done for Sassy for her last 2 weeks of life. I walked out of the back room and Mikaela came up and hugged me as we left the vet.

When I got back home I called my mom and told her that she could take care of the billing. After that I said.

"I'm sorry about all this dude I know we had plans and all but—"

"No, no, no, no it's fine. Do—you wanna call John and tell him? Or do you want me to talk for you?"

"I think I can tell him. He loved Sassy as much as I did." I picked the phone up once more and dialed the number for the farm that Deacy gave me before they left. It rang about five times before I heard a voice say.

'Hello?' Oh god why did it have to be him?

"Paul. Can I speak to John please?"

'Oh (y/n) I'm afraid he's too busy to talk right now. Since you distracted the guys they're way behind schedule with the album. They have to work twice as long just to meet the upcoming deadline.'

'Oi Prenter why are you answering the phone!? Thought I told you that you weren't allowed to take calls anymore!' Roger's loud voice proclaimed. I then heard the signs of a struggle and Paul's painful cry as Roger's voice spoke up. 'Talk to me.'

"Rog."

'(Y/n), hey what's going on?'

"Is Deacy too busy to talk?"

'Oh absolutely not, hang on a second love okay? OI DEACY!!! YOUR GIRL'S ON THE LINE COME OVER HERE!' Once again there was silence before I heard John's voice at last.

'(Y/n)? What's going on love is everything okay?' my lip quivered as I gasped out a sob. '(Y/n)? Love you're scaring me.'

"She's gone Deacy." I choked out.

'Oh my god. (N/n) I—I'm so sorry. Was she—'

"On the couch in the sun. It was almost an hour ago."

'Jesus Christ. But (y/n) you were there for her like you always said you wanted to be, and she's no longer in any pain, she's at peace. And she's up in heaven with her brother and meeting her older sister. The cat you had before you got her.'

"I know. I'm—I'm sorry I'm distracting you—"

'No, no, no, no, no, no love shhh, shhh, shshshsh. You are by no means a distraction. I'm glad you called me (y/n). I wish I could be there with you right now holding you in my arms.'

"I want that too Deacy."

'Are you going to get the pawprint?'

"Yeah, it should be ready in a day or two."

'That's good. I love you so much my brave mama cat, you know that right?'

"I love you too. I just—wish you were here John."

'I know. I wish I was there too. Is anyone with you right now?'

"Mikaela is, and I—think I'm gonna call Mary."

'That's good. Surround yourself with those two right now since they know what's happening. Do whatever you feel like you need to do right now okay?'

"I will. I do know I wanna get out of the house. I can't...I just can't be in here."

'Okay then do that. Go to Biba, the record store, see a movie, whatever. Hey, it's gonna be okay, alright?'

"Okay. I just—I miss her so much Deacy."

'I know love, I know. I miss her too. Hey listen, I gotta go, the guys are looking at me wanting to know what's going on.'

"I'll let you go then. I maybe out the whole day but I'll give you a call later tonight, okay?"

'Okay my love. I'll talk to you soon. Call me anytime.'

"I will, bye Deacy."

'Bye my love.' I hung up the phone and took a deep breath.

"You sure you wanna get out of the house? It's cool if you just wanna stay here."

"No Mikaela I just—I really can't be in this house anymore. I need to get away from here for a while."

"Okay, okay. But let's get you calm down first before we head on out, okay? I'll talk to Mary this time and you just sit down and drink some water." I nodded and walked over to the kitchen and grabbed a water bottle before sitting down at the kitchen table while Mikaela made the call to Mary and explained everything.

A little while later Mikaela told me that Mary is willing to meet us at the movies since we were planning on seeing that new shark movie that was out now. After recomposing myself and drying my eyes up to show no signs that I had been crying, Mikaela and I stepped out and drove on to meet Mary at the movie theater.

The whole day was spent having a girl's day out. Mary paid for our movie tickets (we chose a later showing than originally planned due to all of this), and then Mikaela paid for our lunch. When it got close to our movie time, we all drove back to the theater (thank god it was literally just across the street) and we got our seats.

For the next 2 hours the film JAWS both terrified and had me at the edge of my seat. By the end of the film when Chief Brody shot the shark, the entire audience actually applauded. After the film, we spent the rest of the afternoon doing a little shopping to help cheer me up until it got dark and I knew I had to get back in order to feed Phoebe.

Mikaela and Mary both came back to the house with me to bid me a final goodbye and to give their final condolences on my loss today. They told me that if I ever needed to talk about today or vent, cry or hang out I could always call them. I thanked them before finally entering back inside the house.

When I got inside, the first things I had noticed was that my hall lights were on and Phoebe was currently eating at her food bowl. At that point my heart started racing a bit because my dad was still at work by now since he had requested some overtime so I know that he'd usually would be on his way home but not here, here. I then heard footsteps coming down the stairs and that's when I was shocked to see Deacy coming down the stairs.

"I thought that might've been you. Had it been your dad it would've been awkward."

"Wha—but.....how are you....."

"Before you ask any questions, how are you feeling? Truthfully?" I looked down and sniffled.

"Heartbroken. I miss her Deacy! I miss my baby so much!"

"I know, I know sweetheart. I do too." He said as he immediately embraced me and rocked me back and forth. "Sassy will forever live in your heart and in your memories, you gave her a good life till the end. And she at least passed away in a peaceful, safe environment. She knew you were there and that you took care of her right to the end."

"It all just happened so fast I mean—she was diagnosed with kidney failure just short of 2 weeks and now she—"

"Shhhh, shh I know. I know. But there was nothing you could do love, there was nothing anyone could've done. She—she was an old cat and.....it was just meant to be her time now. You wouldn't want her to keep suffering would you?"

"Never."

"Exactly, no one does. I know it's selfish but she at least died here at home. And she'll be right there with you."

"I just wish she could've stuck around longer, till I at least found a job. It's stressing enough getting no responses cause of my lack of job experiences now I just....."

"I know love. I know. But you know you've got me right? I can be your stress reliever now, hmm? What do you say?" his nose gently grazed against mine. I sniffled and looked up at him to see him softly smile down at me, his eyes softly shining with empathy.

"Thank you Deacy. I'm happy you came back for me."

"I'll always come to you whenever you need me. You're my best friend (y/n)."

"And you're mine John Deacon." For the rest of the night Deacy pampered me with a warm bath filled with my favorite bath bombs and favorite scented candles. When the bath was done, he helped me into my favorite snuggly pj's before placing me on my bed and snuggling up close to me. My head resting over his chest and his arms wrapped around me snug and tight.

His hand rubbed my back comfortingly and every now and then I felt him kiss the crown of my forehead every time I sniffled or whimpered. Even though he always said he wasn't a singer, I heard him hum the tune to our song 'you're my best friend' and all the while I kept thinking of my baby girl.

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