#i try not to but i always end up talking about them lmao
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Do you have any recommendations for starting a story? Yours is so good and it really inspires me to try and make one of my own but idk where to start
Hmmm a tough question! I think we all just kinda start and learn as we go? It's the best way tbh.. if you look back at the beginning of most simblr stories they've usually come a long way! Here's a couple tips that I think might be handy tho...
Maybe we could start a thread and everyone could reblog this with their own tips?! 🤩
Decide if you want to build your own lots/sets or not. If you do you'll probs wanna start off with the main places you'll use that're full of personality, like a main characters house or place of work etc. you can always download some neat lots and edit them to your liking if you're not a builder, or maybe even download a whole save file!
Start a character page (or make an intro post for em if you can't be arsed with the technicalities) - not essential but useful for you and the readers to keep track of who's who and maybe state a few facts about them etc.
Start collecting some poses and ideally rename them so they're easy to find! I personally like to add smth like [PETS] or [KISSING] etc to mine (in s4s) in conjunction with twistedmexi's pose finder to make things easier to grab.
If you use reshade/gshade, taking the time to find or create a nice preset will save you a bunch of time editing.
For the love of god if you're gonna make a bunch of extras, try and dress them in maxis clothes/hair.. I'm so SICK of having to redress everyone every time I clear out a bunch of cc skjdksj 🙈 you can always give em an extra, fancy cc outfit for specific scenes on the day but yeah, do yourself a solid where possible to save time/pain in the future. Same goes for lots you don't use often, try and limit the cc you use!
Figure out if you're a planner or not! If you can't manage without a plan it's okay to take some time before starting to figure everything out and get a detailed outline going. If you're more of a pantser (like me!) you can always just get going with a rough idea in mind and see what happens!
If you're gonna go with the flow I'd still recommend creating at least a rough outline, you don't have to stick to it like glue but it'll probs help you stay on track and I wish I'd have done this in the beginning, esp if you're gonna have a plot heavy story.
Characters > plot.. (imo!) like.. you could have a super interesting plot in mind but if no one really knows or cares about your characters it's gonna have a limited impact/amount of interest. They don't even have to be likable lmao
Give your characters some flaws! It's fun and it makes them more relatable.
Start with a small cast - not a complete must but it'll be probably be easier for people to get to know your pixels if they're aren't a million of them right off the bat. You can always add more later.
Try not to shoehorn your characters into situations they wouldn't end up in just to further the plot.. a hard one to explain and mostly based on intuition but if a scene feels boring, out of place or forced, it probably is! aka.. be willing to kill your darlings. Maybe you've already established that your character is poor or smth but have this fun idea of a road trip montage or whatever.. like you can't just give them a car and the money to drive a million miles just cos you HAVE to see that scene y'know? Maybe they're gonna have to hitch hike, get the bus, or take out a loan? Probs a bad example but hopefully you get the idea! It can sometimes be more fun to force your characters into a different situation than you imagined anyway, like maybe they meet someone really neat on the bus and they join the trip, or maybe whoever they borrowed money from gets all pissy when they can't pay em back quick enough etc etc.
Let your characters guide you - sometimes characters talk to us! You could've had a whole storyline planned for them, or a romance of whatever, but when it comes down to it, it just doesn't feel right and that's okay! Let them lead you in a different direction now n' then.
Write for you! (ugh becca stfu with this shit) I know, I know but really.. if you're not having fun, what's the point? Don't write what you think other people want and learn to be okay with cutting ideas/scenes/characters/whatever! that you aren't excited about anymore. It should never feel like a chore to create, and if it starts to feel that way, take a break or change it up!
I feel like this is super rambly and I've missed a million obvious things but my brain is mashed potato rn lmao.. pls feel free to add your own tips in a reblog or a comment - everyone has a different take on things! I think it's really important just to start and see what feels natural tho 🤸♀️🧡
#ranswers#<3333333#story tips#??#idk how to tag this#my bio says it all u kno.. we're winging it here n have been from the start weeeeeee#i just daydream my sims into ✨situations✨ and then create them like 9/10 times#lmaoo
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ok so.... i made a completely new character that is twisted from Glut the Shark
name: Iara Ketos
birthday: July 17 (Cancer)
age: 18
height: 195 cm
homeland: Coral Sea
grade: Junior
class: E
club: Soccer club
best subject: Flight
hobbies: Handicraft
pet peeves: People running from her
favorite food: Her mom's food
least favorite food: None
talent: Unintentionally slandering people
nicknames: Mademoiselle Requin (Rook) maybe I'll think of a better nickname later
Personality
Iara loves making new friends, she's sociable and friendly, and always gets excited to meet new people or talk to them, but tries her best to do so in a chill way.
As a kid, she used to be very hyper and extreme about everything, so when she tried to approach people, they always felt overwhelmed by all of her energy and avoided or ran from her. Not only they felt overwhelmed, but she's always been a person who's easy to misunderstand. If she's really happy, she talks very fast with a lot of energy and might seem like she's angry or aggressive.
This made Iara very self-conscious, so she's been trying to learn how to control herself and not be so hyper about everything, toning all of her energy down. She's been trying really hard to be chill, and it's kind of working, but she's not happy with that, after all, she's not been true to herself.
Iara doesn't measure her kindness, but she's also a people pleaser and the kind of person that goes with the flow. She tends to be very considerate of other people's feelings, which means that even if she disagrees with something, she might agree just because it'll make them happy.
This leads to funny situations because, while she always tries to be nice, there are sometimes when she either says something worded in a very bad way that ends up sounding like an insult, or her inner thoughts escape out loud and she proceeds to accidentally slander people when just one second ago she was praising them.
Despite that, Iara wants to love people and to be loved back, not in a romantic way, she just wants genuine, real friends, people she can count on, and who can count on her too.
Sadly enough, not only because of her appearance (she's hella tall, so people are intimidated) but also because she's toning down her personality so much, she still hasn't had much success in making friends. Also, NRC might not be the best place for that...
Background
Iara had a happy childhood inside of her home. Her family was composed of her mother, father, three younger siblings and two older siblings.
Iara was the middle child, which means that she could get jealous of not only her older siblings, but also the younger ones too. Still, it was fun growing up with them, everyone would sometimes fight, but would also take care of each other.
Of course Iara would expect everyone from outside of her home to be as nice as her siblings, but she quickly realized that she was wrong. In fact, people were scared of her. When she first went to school, not only the other children were scared of her, but the teachers were too.
She's a shark-mer after all. No matter how sweet sharks can be, their reputation of being murderous and aggressive monsters will always speak louder.
Still, she tried to make friends. The moment she opened her mouth to smile to another kid, the kid started to cry. (lmao poor Iara) Iara immediately closed her mouth, confused but also sad.
Still, Iara didn't give up. But if it wasn't her smile that would turn people off, it was her crazy amount of energy. She had so much energy that she couldn't stay still, so her behavior always annoyed all of her teachers. If she wasn't annoying them, she was annoying the other kids, because she was simply overwhelming to them and no one could keep up with her. If she talked, she would talk too much and just not stop, for example.
Her strength was also a bother to people. She was a walking disaster who would accidentally break everything she touched, simply because she didn't know how to control her strength. When she tried to play with other kids, she would always accidentally hurt them — and this was the last thing she ever wanted, but she did it so many times that everyone assumed she was doing it on purpose.
Over time, Iara grew up to be fond of handicraft. She just likes making handmade things, it's something that helps to pass the time and helps her improve her management of strength. She feels very proud of the little trinkets she makes.
In order to find inspiration to make new handmade things, Iara would always wander around the Sea to see if she could find the things that would fall from the mainland above. She is a curious person and always loved discovering new things.
One day, she found Prince Rielle, who was also looking for trinkets that are dropped from above. Of course Iara knew who he was, but still didn't care about his status and wanted to befriend him. After all, he looked really nice and they both seemed to share the same interest.
But she ended up getting too excited and Rielle just got scared of her and ran away. Iara didn't even think anything about it, she was like "well he's a Prince, of course he doesn't want to mix with people from lower classes". But then she got sad lmao.
Still, Iara never gave up on trying to improve herself and stay positive, working hard on her flaws to be someone better.
Unique Magic
Pierce your Heart
Iara, with much ease, can break anything, literally anything, being it hard like metal or soft like a marshmallow, even diamonds, with her teeth, and without hurting herself. If she bites a person while casting this spell, well it won't be pretty...
Some other info
Iara loves soccer. The moment she got legs and feet she was like "I CAN KICK STUFF????" and got super excited. SHE LOVES RUNNING AND LOVES KICKING STUFF!!!
She quickly became very good at soccer and, surprisingly enough, a lot of people joined the club after they saw how great she was, because she inspired them (and also incited everyone's competitive spirit).
Are these people her friends? No, they just want to compete against her. But she appreciates their presence.
Flight classes are also something that she loves. She finds it so dope to like... fly??? On a broom, but still fly. And she probably loves doing crazy tricks with the broom while flying (she probably fell in front of everyone a shitton of times, but she doesn't care).
While she definitely doesn't have the best scores out of all students from Octavinelle, Iara is carrying them when the subject is P.E.
The only thing she's scared of at school is receiving a ball on her face, since her nose is pretty sensitive.
Iara has a heightened sensitivity to smells, and sometimes some thoughts can escape out loud and she ends up saying things like "yeah, but you should brush your teeth ASAP" or "i can tell what you had for lunch, it doesn't smell pleasant" or even "your perfume is cheap" without even realizing. She feels so horrible after this, though.
People get really mad at her insults, but they don't really do anything about it because 1 - they're scared of her, and 2 - she's huge and could win from them in a fight.
Also, Iara can get mad and very angry, but she represses all of her anger, since she's aware she's scary enough for being a shark-mer, so she doesn't want to act aggressive. She often cries in her room when she feels emotionally overwhelmed, because she just... can't express her anger or any negative feelings/thoughts.
She's just a huge girl who's trying her best to not cause harm to anyone.
Iara LOVES her siblings and parents, and loves meeting them, since with her family she can always be herself. She can be aggressive, because they are aggressive too and don't mind it. She can be angry, sad, energetic, playful, shout however she wants and show all of her sides and she'll be loved by them — they are the same as her, after all.
Iara's voice claim: Wakana Shiki from Love Live (though Iara's voice sounds a lot more energetic when she is with her family).
Iara is bigender and doesn't mind being referred to as a guy or when others use he/him to refer to her. Most characters use male pronouns to refer to Iara (including the Octatrio, they refer to her as a "that guy") and some don't even know that she's biologically a girl. When she speaks tho, people get really confused because of her voice.
#twst#twisted wonderland#twst oc#twisted wonderland oc#disney twst#oc art#oc#twst art#disney twisted wonderland#iara ketos
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@amethyinst wait let’s TALK ABOUT IT bc everything you’re saying is CORRECT and OBVIOUS, and i wasn’t expecting it to be SO OBVIOUS and YET i feel like it gets really glossed over!
the “harsh journey across barren wasteland” thing is practically jumping off the page here, down to bran losing rickon & osha early in the journey and dany losing doreah early in hers, & the kicking off point being a fight between several factions of what’s left of drogo’s khalasar & dany’s, and the final sack of Winterfell being this kind of three way issue between what’s left of the iron islanders, the stark loyalists theon left alive, & ramsay. dany & bran really escape death here through like, oodles of luck and quick thinking from the people around them.
but ALSO you have dany currently on the dothraki sea and bran in the far north, and both of them are just kind of looking away when meat of a questionable source is given to them. and i think there’s something more here, in that dany shows up to qarth & it’s an oasis in the sea, only every door is shut in her face and the warlocks are there ~lurking. meanwhile you have bran showing up to the far north hoping for a miracle cure to his legs and to get all the magical answers he seeks only to get some very shitty answers from the cotf while bloodraven is ~lurking. this is why i think there’s a chance bran is leaving the cave p quickly in twow - like dany in the dothraki sea, he’s going to have an extended journey where it’s just him (and maybe Summer) using his warging abilities and trying to get his body to the wall. probably doing a lot of reflecting, and possibly learning the wrong lesson as he reflects!
and there’s a lot between hotu & the cave too - learning the old gods are just greenseers, seeing with his own eyes that the first men sacrificed people to fuel their magic, seeing his father talking about jon, seeing lyanna & benjen spar. meanwhile dany is having visions that include her brother talking about tptwp, her father yelling to burn everyone,and the “false wizards” who try to trick her. both of them being shown but not quite processing that all their visions are linked to their own history. there’s the elusive, suspicious way the warlocks & quaithe speak with dany, always in riddles, and bloodraven is equally suspicious and cagey. but they’re both learning, they’re both progressing in their magic, and they’re both really struggling with placing where ~the line is morally when it comes to how they use their magic - but look at their mentors lmao, they have the world’s shadiest teachers.
and YEAH everyone loves to talk about the targaryen connection & jon and dany both being born towards the end of the rebellion, but i think it’s glossed over that both dany & bran are kinda In The Shit when their parents get murdered during a succession war and have to go underground or get killed. dany’s fondest memories are the ones from when she’s bran’s age and younger, with willem darry there to care for her (like the ONLY capable adult she ever interacts with 😭). and you have osha, who like willem darry isn’t really a sworn sword type, they’re just very loyal people who were close at hand and did what they could for the children in their care. there’s something that links them when it comes to, idk exactly how to phrase it, but physical trauma & their magic coming in, basically. both of their childhoods whittling their support systems down until they’re alone - only when they’ve experienced physical traumas & lost everything can they access magic on a stronger scale. and the fact that they both reach for it sooo readily! jon doesn’t want anything to do with it, he’s spent nearly every book actively running from it, but dany and bran turn right into the arms of their magic as a refuge.
they’re also just both clearly the prophecy children lol no offense to jon (or tyrion for that matter) but i think even IF jon or tyrion or aegon (or euron 💀) manage to get a dragon, the capital p Prophecy Children are dany & bran as the last dragon and the last greenseer. and they’re so much THERE too - bran looks like an andal & dreamt more ~andal-ish dreams but inherits the legacy of the first men’s magic after being disabled and socially de masculinized bc of that disability, while dany looks a consummate valyrian but she’s a girl and inherits the mantle of last dragon after every man in her line fails. everyone wants to be THEM but they are the only ones capable of that power - and that’s a good thing but also a very bad thing.
#like reading adwd is just like never before have two kids been so fucjing doomed omg#getting on my soap box#bran stark#daenerys and bran parallels#fun fact i had to go look up her name again bc i couldn’t fucking remember how to spell it#this is why i write dany all the time i hate these ae’s omg
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Hiya 👋🏻
It’s not really a kinktober request, but maybe you’ll consider doing it? No pressure though))
Ajaf era James, where he was drinking a lot. He understands that that affects him and turns him into a monster. He’s afraid he’s going to hurt reader, but he can’t break up with her for her safety, he loves her too much. So he comes up with stupid plan of making her break up with him because of his behavior? So he starts to undermine her efforts, e.g. the meals she cooks “could have been better”; makes fun of her simple 9-5 job , saying that’s she lucky she can have a relaxed job cause he’s earning most of the money and covering the bills. Although she’s hurt, she is staying as she loves him and thinks it’s the alcohol talking. James, realizing his plan doesn’t work, makes the final move: after they have sex one evening, he tells her that groupies do a much better job. That’s too much for her to take so she leaves him.
Unfortunately, after break up he feels even worse. Lars is worried so he interrogates him, and drunken James confesses. So Lars finds reader and locks her in the studio with James for them to reconcile (can we have smut here)?
Few weeks later when they start recording black album, James plays her a song (which will become nothing else matters), saying that it’s his way of telling everyone how much she means to him?
I’m sorry I can’t write short asks 🥲🥲🥹🥹
You are a great writer so I really hope this will become a story 🙏🏻
hihi!
and omg its here. took me 9 days to write it lmao but yeah
i cant explain how much I loved this idea pls marry me annon
also ~~~ means POV change (yes there is James and reader pov)
this fic has legit everything so I hope y'all enjoy it bc I busted my ass on it
some parts may be confusing idk
anyways
word count: 10623
warnings: mentions of achohol/drugs, death is mentioned, toxic relationship, break up, angst, smut, fluff, I'm prob forgetting smth
OR SO I THOUGHT (1989)
It had been a rough couple months with James. I felt determined to help him with his only worsening alcoholism, though he only continued to shut me out. I could feel the guilt when he was around, but it didn't make him stop. I tried, I really did, encouraging him to talk to me, to help me help him.
It was the same sad scene every night. James would come home, probably around midnight, and I couldn't sleep without him next to me, so I was up, all those hours, wondering as I tossed and turned as to where he might be. All I knew is I was in for a scary time when he got back, but I eventually grew tough skin to deal with this. Understood that this wasn't safe for me, or him, and I stressed that so, so much to him, but James never understood. Well, he never told me he did. Maybe there was more going on in his heart I never knew about. But, of course, I could never discover as he would always close himself off so much.
It was another day where the cycle would repeat. I woke up at three am to the sound of James stumbling in, mumbling something under his breath before he plopped down on the bed beside me, and I knew well enough to hold my tongue, to not provoke him. I pretended I was asleep, which he believed, trying, or at least I think he was trying, to snuggly up next to me, but he had his back to me. His arms weren't around me. Maybe that's all I yearn for now, to be loved and held.
Once I could finally go back to sleep, I was awoken not much later by the sound of my blaring alarm. It was seven am, time to get ready for work. James is a heavy sleeper, he never woke up from my alarms, though I always rushed to turn them off, just in case they would wake him. Slipping out of bed with a groan, I observed his sprawled out body, his shoes still on. I'm glad he made it to the bed this night, as others he would end up on the couch, or in his car, or somewhere I had no idea of.
I pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, like a mother caring for her ill son on a school day. I slipped off his shoes, trying to get him more comfortable. I scurried towards the closet to grab my work clothes for the day before getting changed in the bathroom and rummaging through our medicine cabinet, finding some pain killers and then getting him a cold glass of water, leaving the items on our bedside table. I paused to watch over him as he slept, his slow, steady breaths that rose and fell from his chest. I loved him too much to change this lifestyle. I loved every part of him, and if this was part of him, then so be it. I'll help him get better. He loves every part of me, no matter what, right?
Or so I thought.
I slipped on my heels, walking into our messy kitchen, the sink filled with unwashed dishes James was supposed to do. But, he isn't well, so I must do them for him. After washing the dishes, I brewed coffee, poured myself a cup and left some for him and began to make breakfast. James had been off lately, different to how he already was off, but that slowly became part of our normal, so one new change did not stick out too much, but this one did. I don't know what it is. He just felt… lifeless, cold, I guess. I decided to make one of his favorite breakfast meals, a nice, warm and fluffy stack of pancakes with eggs and bacon, cooked just the way he liked it. I spent extra time trying to make it the best I had. I knew they would probably be cold by the time he woke up, but hopefully he'd appreciate my effort. I ate some eggs before scrambling for a notepad, getting a pen to write him a sweet good morning note, explaining I was at work, when I'd be home, how much I loved him, and where the other meds were if he needed them. I wrote these notes almost daily, but this one I made longer and more love filled. I figured he would want my love.
Or so I thought.
I came home around six pm, the evening traffic being worse than usual. Instead of seeing James' car out of the driveway and the house dark, he was still home. The soft sound of the TV buzzing was easy to hear as I unlocked the door, walking in to see him on the couch, leaning against the couch arm and holding his head up with his hand. He was too engrossed in whatever he was watching to nice me walk in, so I tried to have him notice my presence.
“Im back, Jamie,” I said softly to not startle him, my voice filled with love as I moved to sit next to him, he looked over at me, like a confused puppy. “How are you feeling?” I asked, gently stroking his back, though he moved from my touch.
“Oh, hi. Yeah, I'm fine. Busy right now, yeah?” He mumbled as a response as he resumed watching TV once more, brushing me off with his simple, cold words. I knew I had to respect his space and not probe at him, so I just nodded with a sigh and got up, slipping off my shoes and setting my bags down,
“Are you hungry?” I asked, digging through the fridge to get things to make dinner. He didn't answer. “James, are you hungry? I can make dinner,” I offered again, noticing the cleared plate that I had made him for breakfast, the note missing. I assumed he threw it away, just like the others. I never saw them in the trash cans, but after everything piles up, you can just assume. I heard James sigh from the couch, “Uh, yeah, sure, whatever. Breakfast was cold, so I threw most of it away anyways,” He admitted, and I felt a small ache in my heart. I thought he liked the dish since there was none left on his plate, but clearly he proved me different. Why I even put effort in these things, I don't know. THats a lie, I do. I love him, and want him to know it, to feel it. I should’ve been doing this as part of my own insecurities, but to make sure he knows I'm there for him, always.
I thought of what to make for dinner, seeing if he had eaten anything since breakfast, only finding empty beer bottles and a half eaten bag of chips. It was probably only the alcohol making him act like this. I decided to make steak with potatoes, something he normally liked and said I made pretty well. It was easy to make, and I know it was one of his favorites I made him, but normally I would wait for a bigger step in life, like celebrating something about the band, or something in my career, but I knew he deserved it still.
I finished after 45 minutes, preparing the plate to be gorgeous, something I wish I could hear from his lips for once. But, he loved me. I know he thinks I'm gorgeous, he wouldn't have to tell me. Right?
“Jamie, the food's ready, I made steak,” I said warmly with a smile, setting a dinner table for us. I didn't get a response, just a grunt as he stood from the couch and walked his near empty bottle of beer, finishing it off and grabbing another from the fridge. I sat at the table, waiting for him to come and join me. His eyes landed on the plate, pulling out the chair to sit down. I couldn't read his emotions, he didn't look too happy, but he didn't look mad. He just looked.. plain. James grabbed his fork and began to eat, the metal scraping against the porcelain plate, waiting for his nod of approval. It never came. He didn't talk, but not in a way like he was mad. He just didn't speak. But he didn't need to, he didn't need to say the things I knew already. I took a breath and began to eat, and it might've been one of the best I had cooked in awhile. Perfect tenderness, juiciness, seasoning, and cooked perfectly, something you could get at a restaurant, now in our home.
“What do you think, baby? I think it's pretty good, no?” I inquired, seeking the validation I craved from him. He just shrugged.
“It's fine, I guess. It could've been better.”
It shouldn't have hurt. It really shouldn't. He just didn't like the dinner I cooked. The dinner I poured my time into. The dinner I made was special. Special for him. But, what did I know? I doubt he meant it. That's why it definitely shouldn't have hurt. He was drinking. ITs just the alcohol making him act like this. He would never say something like that to me. Why did tears prick at my eyes. Why did it actually hurt?
“Oh, uhm…. I'm sorry, I'll do better next time, do you want me to make you something else..?” I choked out, fighting back my tears.
“No, don't waste your time making something mediocre, yeah?” James insisted, insulting me bitterly once again.
I took a shaky breath, another sting to my heart. Hes. Drunk. This can't be what he means, right?
Or so I thought.
“Alright, uh, do you wanna cuddle on the couch..? We can watch anything you want? Or not watch anything, just sit together.” I offered again, pleading to get love from my partner.
“I was probably gonna go to bed. You mind cleaning up?” He pushed me away again, and every word stung. I want him to see me, to notice me, just to love me. But I reminded myself again and again, he's drunk, he doesn't mean it, he doesn't mean it. I'm just being sensitive and pathetic. Maybe it's just my hormones.
I nodded, forcing a smile, “Sure, yeah, go ahead and go to bed, I'll clean up and join you in a bit, ok?” I informed him and he just nodded and got up, walking to the bedroom, still carrying his battle with him. My eyes stung, and once he was out of sight, I felt tears streak my face, but I continued to fight them away. I quickly got up to clear James’ and my own plate, then cleaning the kitchen, washing everything with great care to keep it tidy.
I came into the bedroom, James half asleep under the sheets. His hair was astray as he slept near the edge, his limbs tight together. The now empty beer bottle sat on the nightstand, another reminder of James’ habits. I glanced around before getting changed into my sleep clothes, a nice little night dress James had gotten me for Valentines Day earlier that year. It was nice and pink with some fluffy pieces at the bottom and lace dancing across it. It flowed nicely and hugged my body in the right places, going down to a bit above my knees. It had some other pieces, like stockings and a garter. In reality, it was more so lingerie than a bed set. But, it was one of James’ favorites for me to wear. Maybe this would make him open up more, or just show me the love I'm craving. I crawled in beside him, though I doubt he noticed the weight accompanying him, trying to cuddle closer, pressing myself against his back.
“Jamie?” I asked softly, kissing the back of his head.
“Hm.” James answered in a sleepy tone, barely aware of my presence.
“You doing ok? You've been acting differently…” I kept a quiet tone, my hands gently running down his arms and back as I pondered on what may be hurting him so much.
He took a deep and large breath, sighing, “Yeah, I'm fine… why do you ask..?” James mumbled in response.
“Nothing, you just seem off, I guess,” I rushed out. I didn't want to upset him, but he just seemed so soft and sweet, something I hadn't seen from him awhile.
“Oh, well, alright then… love you..” He mumbled out, slowly succumbing to sleep after saying the words I knew were true.
Or so I thought.
The office today was exhausting. Absurdly exhausting. And infuriating. A stuck up and snotty boss whos full of himself ordering me around to do his mundane dirty work, my co workers giving me side glances of judgment for my more rushed than normal appearance, not having as much time this morning as I had to help James with yet another hangover, getting him to the bathroom in time before he painted our bed green in vomit, making him some foods to keep him comfortable and having to buy more pain killers, my 3rd trip this month, all before heading to work. All I wanted was to come home, sleep, relax, and be held by the love of my life.
As simple as an office job 9-5 may seem, how it is not. No one else wants to do their own work, always needing some kind of assistance, and of course, I none the wiser, agree to help them.
It was another late evening with heavy traffic, not allowing me to come home until seven, again. I had stopped at the market, grabbing food and other supplies we were running low on. And more beer.
The door to the house was locked, something that had been happening more and more as I came home, only growing worries on James' worsening habits, the idea of drugs coming to mind, but I tried to shake it from my head, just wanting a nice time at home.
I unlocked the door, the house quiet except for the soft strum of a guitar in James’ mini studio, which was just an extra bedroom we had turned into a spot for him to store his instruments and for his practeing. We hoped one day for it to become a nursery, a room for our future child.
I followed the music, the half open door allowing me to peek at James, hunched over one of his explorers, fiddling with the strings as he danced around the fretboard with his talented fingers. I smiled at the sweet sight, slowly entering the room.
“Whatcha working on?” I asked, announcing my arrival home. James looked up at me, at first a smile on his face, but he quickly dropped it. His actions only confused me further.
“Uhm, not much, just… a couple riffs and stuff for the new album..” He answered, still picking at the strings with something unreadable in his eyes.
I nodded, smiling at him, “It sounds good, I'm excited to hear it,” I responded before speaking again, “Work was so exhausting today, I don't know how I put up with it anymore,” I said with a laughy sigh, trying to lighten the statement.
James just shrugged. “I mean, I don't really see how a nine to five can really be that tiring,” He disputed, but his tone sounded unsure, shaky like how it did when we first met. But there was a force, an anger of some kind.
I was even more lost with his shift in attitude, “Well, what do you mean? You don't work one, you wouldn't know,” I argued back with more aggression than I meant.
“Yeah, I don't work one. Your job is light and relaxing feather work compared to the shit I do. You are out doing twelve hours a day for months on end at a studio, being out for a year just to tour and shit, you don't make anything working that job, I'm the one paying the bills with my money.” James spat, cold and bitter. His words rung in my ears, repeating each syllable like a painful stab. My brain scrambled for reasons to understand his reaction and response to my complaint of work.
James' piercing blue eyes still starred up and me, my mouth agape in shock. Why would he act like this? He loved me. He just told me he did the other week before we went to bed. I don't know what I'm doing wrong. What is wrong in his life that I don't know about, that he wont tell me about.
My eyes scanned the room, searching for anything that might explain this behavior of his. Truly, anything that would help explain such a swift and sudden change in his mood, but deep down ZI knew, I was just looking for bottles, cans, cups, glasses, anything that would contain the fizzy and bitter liquid he loved. The only thing I could find was a half empty bottle, freshly opened next to the chair he sat in. That's it, that's why he's acting like this. He's just drunk. He doesn't mean it. He doesn't mean it.
Or so I thought.
Even with my new found reasoning, his words still hurt a great amount, the pain struggling to leave. A simple insult, just telling me how I don't work as hard as him, that my job isn't as crucial as his. I took a breath, trying to control and reign in my emotions before I could meltdown in front of him for such a stupid reason. Drunken words, not filled or backed by any true thoughts. Right?
But they do say drunk words are sober thoughts.
“I- well,” I tried to speak, but I couldn't come up with the words. What would I say? I didn't want to make him any more upset than he seemed to be, but I didn't want to submit to him so easily, especially after such disrespect. But I knew better. I don't lash out, I keep him happy. We will work this out together, we have to.
“I'm just gonna go to bed,” I muttered under my breath, fighting back tears that needed to spill out, James rude comments only adding fuel to the fire that had been burning in me all day. Not a fire of anger, passion or desire, but a fire of hurt. Once I shut the bedroom door behind me silently, I broke. The bottle shattered, and my tears overflowed my face, covering my mouth as I cried, trying to calm myself down as I got ready for bed at such an early hour, even forgetting to make James something for dinner.
It was my day off, a relaxing Saturday I could use to have some me time, as James was gonna be out with the band all day as the brainstormed for the new album, which was still taking its baby steps into production, nowhere near any concept for songs yet. At Least that I knew of.
James had been really tense this week, and I had tried everything to get him to relax and cheer up. Taking him out to his favorite restaurants after I came home, making him home cooked meals, getting him gifts and all things. Though there was one thing I hadn't tried. Sex.
I spent all day dolling myself up, wanting to be as bare and beautiful as possible for James. I shaved everywhere, leaving not a single trace of hair anywhere except for my head,, of course. I scrubbed every nook and cranny of my body, putting on James’ favorite set we bought together, doing my makeup just the way he liked it, lighting the candles he got for my birthday, and dousing myself in his favorite perfume I owned. All the lights were out, except for the lowlights of the candles in the bedroom. I laid on the mattress, waiting for James to come home, hoping this would finally get him to unwind from his stress.
I heard James’ keys jingle in the door, and I could feel myself getting more and more excited for his arrival. This would be one of the few times I would have him sober, as when they worked on material they rarely drank or did anything crazy, thankfully. His shoes thudded on the wooden floors, a sigh escaping his lips as I heard him slowly walk towards the bedroom.
“Are you home?” He called out to me before approaching the bedroom door, taking in the sight of me and the room I had spent the evening preparing for this moment.
“Hey baby,” I mused with a smirk, looking up at him with loving eyes. His eyes met mine, looking warm for the first time in awhile.
“What's all this for?” He asked, still taking in the well decorated bedroom and my sexy form.
“Wanted to help you relax… you've been so stressed,” I replied, grabbing his hand to try and bring him closer, to get into the bed with me.
It didn't take much more conniving, and James had given in pretty quickly to my offer. He was being more loud than normal, probably because we hadn't had the chance to be intimate like this in awhile. I loved this so much. Well, I loved being close to James again. He wasn't hitting the right spots or focussing on pleasuring me much, but that's fine, he's the one who needed to relax anyways, and I have enough time on my hands if I wanted to please myself, I guess. It didn't take long for him to come, pulling out and painting himself on my abdomen and my breath labored, coming down from…. Well, not an orgasm, but being close to one. James was beat after that, and I don't blame him for that. He had been so busy recently, I was happy we just got to share a moment like this together again.
I laid close to him under the sheets as we both recovered, James already half asleep. I had his hand in mine, kissing each knuckle of his and more, pouting all of my love into that moment. I looked up, having felt James’ eyes on me for a while. I met his blues, and there was a slight guilt in them, a gestation and regret. But, it didn't last long as he blinked it all away, taking another breath.
“How are you feeling now? Did it make it any better?” I asked, my voice heavy with sleep as I lazily continued to press kisses to his hand.
“I mean, yeah, I guess… It wasn't like, amazing though… I've had better, normally the groupies can do a bit more than that, y’know?” James said cooly, acting as if the words he just said didn't mean anything and had no weight to them.
“What?” Was all I could muster out, the tears already filling my eyes as I tried to process all of this.
“You heard me, the groupies normally do better.”
The words came so normally from his mouth, as if he was just telling me the date and time. But no, he was comparing me to prostitutes, previous women he has slept with. I began to cry, not just out of hurt and sadness, but this time anger. How could he say something like that to me?
And then the worst part hit.
He was sober.
Something I would've wanted more than anything else just a few days ago is now what is causing this experience to be even worse than it is with the horrible comparison and insults James had spewn at me. He meant it. Alcohol was toying with his brain, making him into the aggravated man I had grown to know quite well over the years.
“Are… are you serious? After everything? I put myself through hell to deal with this, to go to work, to do EVERYTHING for you! I have tried so hard James. And Yet you still compare me to them?! Sluts with prices on their heads?!” I cried, anger and hurt filling the fire in my eyes, and I could swear I saw Jamw\es’ cold attitude falter for just a moment. Maybe it was what I was hoping for, that it was all an act, that he truly did love me deep down, but maybe he didn't. Maybe this is the truth I had been hiding from all these months.
James didn't res;ond, just sighing with a shrug.
That's what pushed me over the edge.
“Are you fucki ng serious? You're not even gonna try and fight for this? Get out of here! We're done. Since you don't appreciate anything I do for you nowadays, I don't want you in here anymore. Pack your shit and leave.” I cursed at him as I continued to sob, processing the moments that passed, feeling as if the earth was slowing, each second hitting me hard and heavy.
I could see a slight guilt in James’ eyes, and as much I wanted to believe it was true, I couldn't give it in myself to do that anymore. I couldn't keep living this lie. He nodded, staying silent as I cried, slipping on his clothes and grabbing some things he'd need for the night.
“I loved you because you loved me, or so I thought you loved me, truly you don't give a shit!” I called out again, hearing James breath hitch at my harsh words, but he just left. No goodbye, the final words spoken to us only filled with hate and hurt, though millions went unspoken.
— —- — —> A FEW MONTHS LATER…
Not a lot has happened since I broke up with James, but a lot has changed. Maybe for the better. I miss him terribly, but a lot of weight is off of my shoulders now. I'm no longer worrying about having to make elaborate meals for him, or to do everything in my power to make him happy as [possible, watching my words at all times to make sure I wont say anything that might upset him. It was a large change. The house is still cold like how it was with him, but its a different kind of cold. There is no warmth of another body. Its quiet, no more TV static and laughter or guitar. Work had only gotten more tiring, but I had recently gotten promoted, something I had wanted for a long, long time.
I haven't spoken to James since we broke up. I know he had come by the next day, as when he left that night he only took clothes to last him the night, and when I came home from work, all of his belongings were gone, and his spare key was left on the counter, all of his music gear out of the house, leaving me a now empty room, not to house his guitars, and no longer holding the hopes and dreams of a future child.
Or so I thought all of his stuff was gone.
I came home after work, the house dark and silent, turning on the lights before going into the former music room, which had now become my office for the time being, as I needed one for the promotion, to be able to have a comfortable spot where I could do other work tasks from home. I set down my purse, sitting in my computer chair and sliding off my heels. I saw something in the corner of my eye, something that somehow had never caught my eye all these months.
An ashtray, repurposed to hold James’ many guitar picks. It was behind a lamp that was in the corner of the room on an end table. There was more than just guitar pics, but one of his rings. Like the ones he always wore on stage, the cool reflective metal that shone brightly under the spotlight. I paused, only having gotten one heel off, so confused as to how I never noticed. I sat in this same chair, facing the same direction, taking my heels off the same each day. I quickly got the other off before walking towards the table, picking up the ashtray, having remnants of cigarette butts and ash, some of which covered the pics. There had to be at least 20 of those pics, I don't know how James could forget such a thing, along with one of his more favorite rings. He wore it when we met, but I never made the connection as to that being the reason he left it. I missed him, yes, but having these almost made it worse. Like the world was teasing me that he is gone, that I won't be able to be held by him again, because he doesnt love me anymore. How I still love him, I don't know. Part of me still wants to believe he never meant any of it, but the chances of that being true is slim now. But, I didn't have the heart to call him, to return them to him. He would have come to get them by now, right?
I picked up the cold metal, holding it in my hand before slipping it on my ring finger. It was too large, slipping off quite easily. I tried the next, my middle finger, and it fit well enough to not fall off. It felt so wrong to wear, but it made me feel closer to him. I hated it, but I loved it. A little piece of him to be with me always. ‘God, I sound like a wife mourning her husband who died in a war.’ Was all I could think to myself, setting back down the ash tray and taking off the ring before sitting back down in my office chair, trying to shake my head of the matter so I could focus on the important task at hand, work.
I spent about two hours on the assignment before finishing it among other things, now exhausted even further. I stumbled towards the bedroom, changing into my pajama pants and a sleep shirt. Since the break up, I have refused to wear or even look at the clothes sJames had bought me. I didn't feel any desire to wear those things now that I knew he would be the one to see me in them. I never really wanted to wear clothes like that, but knowing he liked it made me like it. Now that he's gone, so is that enjoyment. I layed down on the mattress, sinking down as it swallowed me and the day whole. I had gotten used to the loneliness of sleeping alone, even after having a body next to me for the last four years. Maybe it was an easier adjustment as towards the end it was like sleeping next to no one.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The last few months are hard to describe. I can't explain it, I really can't. I've never been more lonely in my life, drowning all of my sorrows in the bitter bottles that wasted away each night and day. I've tried putting my energy elsewhere, focusing more on the band than I was earlier, trying to pour my emotions into guitar and lyrics, but nothing works. Nothing matches what I once had. What I threw away. What I ruined. Though, all my life, through all my struggles, there was one thing I learned.
Mask your emotions, hide your turmoil. It's something I had quickly gotten good at from a young age.
Or so I thought.
I went out for drinks with Lars to discuss lyrics and other parts of music for the record, as we normally had for our other productions and everything. We had another few weeks before we went into the studio, where we planned to record for many months, wanting this release to be the best we ever had.
Before I had even gone out to the bar with Lars, I had already had a few bars at home, or what I had tried to make into my home. It was a home, yeah, but it didn't feel homey. There was no warmth or touch to it to make it seem whimsical or joyful. I know I have a problem, but what is there I can do.
When I got there, Lars’s car was already outside, and I knew I was late by thirty minutes, having to build up the motivation to leave the house for a reason other than food, so trying to get up and socialize and talk about important stuff was not on my top choices to do.
I trudged in, my eyes darting around for the Danish, who was never that hard to find. And as I expected, I found him somewhat quickly, taking a seat next to him and ordering a drink for myself.
“Hey man, where the fock have you been? Been waiting here ages for ya,” Lars commented with his laugh, sipping on his own drink.
I just shrugged, “Sorry man, there was just…” I tried to think of a reasonable excuse, but none could come to mind. “Traffic, y’know, it gets bad around five or six, all those people getting off of work,” I explained, thinking I was an expert at this facade.
“Alright, whatever you say. Let's get to work now, yeah?” Lars tried to believe me, but it was clear he knew there was something more to what I said.
I just nodded, “Yeah,” I answered, and Lars took out his notepad where he already had some ideas for songs. The mask was as strong as stone, no way to see in.
Or so I thought.
Lars looked back to me, a thought popping back in his mind, “Traffic? There's normally not much in this area, I mean before you moved out of that place, shit, traffic was bad, but here? No way,” Lars questioned me, no longer believing a word I had said.
“Well, I guess it was just different today…” I muttered, “Let's just start now, leave it be,”. Lars agreed reluctantly, and soon we were sharing ideas sas I jotted down lyrics, Lars taking turns as we debated on the new project.
Of course, as we worked, we were drinking. Me more than him, and it was getting me tipsy, and then drunk. Normally we wouldn't get drunk during lyric writing, just a bit.. Wobbly, I guess. We were just reviewing the lyrics for the third song we were jotting up and I had ordered another drink.
“Jesus man, you only focused on drinking? We got shit to do!” Lars complained to me, and I just shrugged. “Sorry, got my priorities here…” I joked, and Lars only gave a pity laugh.
“Is something up? You've been acting weird as hell for the last few months. We barely see you anymore, and when we do, you're late.” He informed me firmly, clearly not wanting to put up with my demeanor much longer.
“I'm fine, didn't I already tell you that?” I responded, and at this point I just wanted to go home. “Well, you can tell me it a million fuckin’ times and that doesnyt mean Ill believe you,” He rebuttled, and I sighed. “So, what's up with you?”
I didn't want to answer, well sober me would've deflected. But drunk me? He doesn't have much of a filter. Who does when they're drunk anyways?
“Nothings up with me, just dealing with shit…” I answered, taking another sip of my drink.
“Ok, well dealing with what?”
“The breakup, and everything,” I answered, my eyes avoiding Lars’s own.
“Ohh, yeah, I see. What happened anyways? You never went into detail, just saying she kicked you out in the middle of the night. The fuck did you do to her?” He laughed, but the sting of the memories still remained.
“I.. well, I told her she was a shit cook, lazy, didnt work as hard me, and that groupies fuck better,” I admitted. Lars' face changed from a small smile to a look of shock.
“Are you serious?”
“Yeah”
“What would make you say something like that?! That's totally messed up!” I knew this would be shocking, especially coming from me to say something like that. But I didn't expect him to be this shocked.
“No, I did it for a reason, I'm not just some asshole! I didn't want to break up with her, and I didnt want her to break up with me, but I knew I had to get her to break up with me. I keep drinking, and it makes me into… I don't know, I'm a different person and I don't want to hurt her. The only option was to force her to break up with me.” I tried to explain, but Lars was quick to respond.
“Only option?! Have you heard of rehab? Getting help? Did she just let you waste away?”
“I didn't want to go to rehab either, and no, she did try to help, but I don't want help…” It was getting embarrassing at this point, showing how weak I had become.
“James, not everything is about what you want! There's things you need to do, but you don't want to. Those are just as important.” He paused, hoping my worlds would process through me as he thought of an idea. “How about this, clean up your act a bit and I'll get her back over here and you can go back to paradise, alright?” Lars offered and I perked up a bit.
“How the hell do you expect her to come back to me after all of that?”
“I never said she'd come back to you, I said I can get her over here, make you guys talk or something.” He corrected me, and I just rolled my eyes.
“Well how are you gonna get her to come here? She probably hates me at this point,”
“I have my ways, we were closer friends than you probably remember,” Lars’ words didn't help. He could never explain his plan, and that's what always ticked me off about him.
“Fine, whatever, work your midget magic or something,” I muttered under my breath.
“What did you just say to me?”
“Nothing, nothing, just do whatever it is, alright?”
“Fine.”
— — — — > A WEEK LATER…
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Time moves slow these days. But not in a bad way, it was nice that life was hitting the breaks a bit instead of the pedal. Though, that joy wouldn't last long.
I sat in my office chair at work, working on some papers my boss had handed me a few minutes ago. He was giving me stack after stack after stack of papers today, all coming with my promotion I got a bit back. More money means more work, and more work means more money, so I guess it isn't all too bad in the long run. I glanced up from my paper, eyeing the now double repurposed ashtray, one being made for the intents of cigarette butts, then guitar pics, and now it held my keys and some other trinkets, including one singular guitar pic of James, one of his favorites.
I was startled out of my thoughts by hearing the office phone ring, quickly reaching to grab it, assuming it was a customer call.
“Hi, this is Capital Advisors, how can I help you?” I offered in a cheery tone, but the voice I heard response was not what I had expected.
“Hey man, look, it's Lars, something happened to James, you mind heading down to the studio?”
I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Sure, Lars and I were close, but we haven't talked much since James and I’s break up. My words caught in my throat, processing the second half. “Something happened to James? What happened? Is he ok?” Even though he proved himself worthy of a break up, I still couldn't shake my love and worry for him.
“Uhhhh, yeah, no, sure he's fine, but you just needa come to the studio?” Lars rambled, not sure how to keep up his lie.
“Ok, yeah, of course, when do I need to be there?” My mind was racing, Lars wasn't being direct with what happened, so my mind could only think of the worst. He always poland things off to make them not seem as bad as they were. What if James fell and hurt himself? Overdosed on something? Only darker thoughts hit my mind.
“Like, now, this can't wait,” Lars demanded, and I had no choice but to agree.
“Yeah, I will be there as soon as I can, ok? Tell him I’ll be there soon, I don't want him to worry,” I gave in and then Lars thanked me and hung up.
Now I don't know what to do. My boss wasn't the type of person to just let me leave whenever I want, and I had already promised to Lars I would be there immediately. Though, my worries got the best of me and I quickly began to gather my stuff together. I grabbed my keys and my purse, quickly heading to my boss's office.
I always hated going in here, it was freezing since the AC was always blasted, and it reeked of musty air freshener. I gently knocked on the door before I heard his baritone voice respond, telling me to come in. I entered, seeing him sitting there, filing papers.
“Can I help you?” He said in a monotone voice, opening and shutting cabinets.
“Yes, I need to leave, like right now. ITs an emergency, family matter,” I tried to briefly explain, but it didn't take long for him to come up with a new response.
“Emergency? Of what? Is someone dying?” His eyes looked up from his papers, meeting mine as he waited for an answer.
“I… Well, I don't know,” I muttered, and it was true, I really didn't. With Lars’ vagueness, I tru;y didn't have a reason to not assume James was already on his deathbed.
“How can you not know?” He questioned me as if I was stupid, then noticing my pale and shaky look of true worry, “Fine, yes, you can go, but you're leaving three hours early. I want you working those hours back tomorrow. Understood?” He finally made an offer, and I quickly accepted without hesitation.
“Yes, thank you, and I'm sorry,” I responded with a smile and a nod, quickly leaving the office and getting to my car as fast as possible. Lars never specified where exactly the studio was, but I had been there a few times with James to hear them practice and record. I did my best to remember the way there, speeding in some places and having to make a couple U turns to figure out the exact spot. The whole time my head was buzzing, I could not think of one normal reason as to why James would want me there. He clearly didn’t like me much towards the end, even though I still like to think he never meant it and that it was only the alcohol talking, but I was probably wrong. Why did I still care so much after being so wrongfully disrespected? Part of me still loved him. Still wanted to wake up next to him every morning, hear the faint strumming of a guitar whenever I came home from work. Now those days were gone, and never looked like they would return. I still worried for the worst for James, endless horrid possibilities arising in my brain, all trying to piece the puzzle together.
When I finally pulled up, I saw two other cars out in front, not seeing James’ car, assuming Lars gave him a ride and KIrk giving Jason one. No cop cars or ambulances or fire trucks, so he isn't dying, or maybe they already left. Maybe I was too late?
I quickly got out of the car, almost running to the studio door, knocking until Lars came and opened it for me.
“Hey! There you are, took ya long eno-” Lars was quickly cut off by my own anxieties.
“Where is he? Is he ok? Was I not fast enough?” I quickly voiced out, my eyes darting around the inside and searching for him.
“Yeah, relax. He's fine. He's inside-”
“If he's fine then why did you make me come here from work?! I thought he was dying or something crazy,” I cut him off, questioning his efforts.
“No, none of that, you worry too much. He just wants to talk with you,” Lars answered, and my previous worries and a new suspicion grew in me.
“Just want to talk? Last time I talked with him he was critiquing me! He hates me! He doesn't want anything to do with me!” I voiced the feelings that had been clawing at me for months, never having anyone to tell them to.
“Or so you think. Look, just talk to him, that's all this is, ok?” Lars grew tired of my attitude and clearly I would have to give in soon.
“I want to, I want to talk to him, but I doubt he wants to talk to me,” I responded, trying to further explain my hesitations.
“I just told you that he wants to talk to you! Go in there, please!” Lars pleaded with me, and I sighed, finally agreeing.
“Ok, ok, I will,” I answered, beginning to head into the studio.
“Thank you! He's just down the hall, in that room with the sound equipment and everything,” Lars informed me, and I followed him, seeing James hunched over a table, scribbling down on a piece of paper. My heart was racing now. I hadn't seen him since that night. I didn't know what I would say to him, I was worried what he would say to me.
Then he looked up at me.
His cold, piercing blue eyes, a newfound softness in them as our eyes met. I avoided his eyes, but felt his lingering on me. Lars guided me in, shutting the door behind himself, leaving us alone. I was unsure of what to say, my eyes lingering on the floor, hearing James set down his pen.
“Uh… hi…” He started, probably just as unsure as I was.
“Hi,” I responded back shyly, avoiding his gaze, though I could still feel his own on me. The sound of footsteps approached me, instantly recognizing them as James’, and then I heard a click. Lars had locked us in here, now forced to talk.
“I.. I'm sorry, I really am,” He mumbled, and I looked up at him, seeing a true guilt in his eyes, “I wish I didn't do it, that I didn't say those things, that I didn't make you hurt so much like that… I should’ve been much more, well, mature about it. I feel like shit for everything,” James explained to me, but this only caused me to have more and more questions.
“What do you mean?” I asked, my voice still a hushed whisper as a wave of various emotions crashed down on me. “I had reasons for what I did, I just wish I went about it differently. I wish I had listened to you when you had offered me help. I didn't want to hurt you with my habits, and I couldn't break up with you, I didn't want to be the one to do that, so… so I tried to make you break up with me, and you did. Everything I said, it was a lie. I never meant it. You're a great cook, you work hard, you're just… you're amazing, you're too good for me.” James confessed, and I could feel a bit of the cold melt away, though still a hurt in my heart.
“Then why make me come and tell me all of this? This would only pour salt in that wound, no?” I was still confused at why he would make such an effort, but I still found it touching.
“Because I still love you. I want things back the way they were. I swear on everything, I've changed. I miss you more than anything-” I cut him off with a sweet kiss to his lips, and he melted into me, wrapping his arms around me in a comforting and loving embrace.
After James pulled away, he looked me in my eyes, “How could you forgive me for saying all of that to you?” He began, “Id think you would just… hate me, I was a total jerk,”
“Or so you'd think. I still love you and miss you more than you could imagine,” I responded with a small smile, and James matched mine, kissing me again. “Can… can I show you how much I've missed you?” James asked in a mumbled tone, clearly a bit embarrassed. My cheeks heated up at his offer and I giggled, nodding as our lips met a third time, a new hunger and desire now displayed. Slowly, he walked me to the table until I had backed up into it, his hands trailing up my sides until we broke away, his lips now going down my neck, eliciting a needy whine from the back of my throat, my hands pulling him closer, snaking under his shirt to trace his skin.
James’s fingers slipped under my shirt, working to get it off of my head, leaving my neck for only a second to remove the fabric before attaching himself to my sensitive flesh, feeling him suck and nibble, definitely leaving bruises. He gave a more harsh bite, causing me to whimper, then soothing it over with his tongue before pulling away. Soon his gaze focused on my breasts, still confined with my bra. His eyes met mine again, “Can I take it off?” He asked ,already reaching around my back to work on the clasp, which had become an easy task for him. I nodded, and soon the garment was now on the floor with my shirt. The cold air caused my nipples to erect immediately, and James’ eyes were locked on them, cupping the in his hands as he squeezed them and pinched at my nipples, making me make high needy sounds, causing him to smirk, kissing around the soft flesh, teasing me with every movement he made.
I began to claw at his shirt, trying to take it off of him, so he reluctantly pulled away from my chest, removing his own shirt, giving me a view I had missed more than I care to admit. My eyes dragged slowly over the newly exposed skin, and his lips crashed down on mine again, pushing me back so far I was now laying down on the table, the cold wood causing goosebumps to rise on my skin. I tugged at James’ pants, feeling myself grow wetter at the moment. He slipped down his pants, leaving him in only his boxers as you pulled down my skirt, leaving me in only my panties. I could see the bulge in his final layer grow at the new sight, and then he got on his knees, gripping the sides of my aunties and taking them off in a swift motion, leaving my glistening folds exposed to his hungry view.. His warm lips teased my thighs, kissing around the area I needed him most, making me writhe with desire. Eventually, his tongue found my center, giving it soft licks at first, parting my folds with his tongue. A moan escaped my throat, and James took it as his sign to keep going, burying his face between my thighs. He licked and sucked at my hole, probing at it with his tongue as his nose nudged my sensitive clit. My hand snaked into his long blonde locks, gripping his scalp tightly as I pulled him closer. I could hear him groan into my flesh, causing a vibration to coarse through me, making me moan again as I came closer to my first high. Eventually James moved further up, giving more attention to my aching clit, giving it gentle licks first to tease me before sucking it into his mouth, biting it softly, making me squeal from his ministrations.
“Jamei, fuck, Im gonna cum,” I whined out, tugging on hair harder, causing him to let out another low groan as he continued to feast on me. “Cum for me pretty girl,” He mumbled into my flesh, and like that my orgasm washed over me, a breathy moan falling my lips, feeling my core pulsate , releasing my grip on James’ head, allowing him to pull back.
James chin was drenched in my essence and his spit, some caught in his facial hair, wiping it off on the back of his hand. I dont think Ive seen anything hotter. His eyes landed on mine, and I noticed a lustful darkness in them, kissing me again as our tongues tangled in a battle for dominance, James winning in the end, and soon his boxers were on the ground, both of us bare in front of each other again.
JAmes broke the kiss, trailing his lips down my neck, leaving new hickeys and bruises in his wake as they now peppered my neck. I felt his tip at my entrance and I squirmed, his lips leaving my bruised flesh. “You ready, baby?” He asked, taking my hand in his, and I nodded, feeling him slowly push into me, the stretching sensation stinging my insides, a delicious stretch my body had missed as I tried to accommodate his size. Once he was to the hilt, I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding, squeezing his hand tightly.
I gave him a look of a need, and he gook note, slowly beginning to pump his hips, untwining our fingers as he positioned himself with better support, placing his arms on either side of my head. With every thrust a moan escaped my throat, tears pricking at my eyes from the pleasure. “Fuck, you’re so tight… haven't had anything since me, hmmm?” James whispered to me, and I could only whine in response, his calloused fingers sneaking down to my clit, brushing the bud lightly with the pad of thumb, and I began to squirm around his cock, feeling his thrusts increase with speed, more grunts falling from James.
The table I laid on creaked beneath from our frevorus movements of need, completely forgetting we were still in the studio. The band was still in that studio. This room wasn't for recording, very little sound blockers. Anyone in this building could hear us. The thought didn't pass my mind once throughout the whole experience, only focused and becoming closer with James once again, not just in body, but in our connection reforming with every minstration from either of us.
James' thrusts grew relentless, only increasing the pleasure for both of us as he chased his own high, helping me with mine, continuing to toy with and stroke my clit, moans and whines leaving me with any movement he made. “So pretty like this, baby, taking me so well,” He groaned, his small grunts and moans filling my ears like sweet music. I began to buck my hips, knowing that my orgasm was approaching, James not far behind, his vocal expression of pleasure growing in number and volume, mixing with my own mewls and moans, that and the sound of skin slapping skin filling the room, my nails clawing his back.
My eyes began to roll back, James’ name falling from my lips a thousand times as my legs wrapped around his waist, trying to pull him deeper to finally bring me to edge. James noticed and thrusted harder, hitting that special spot with every movement, making me have to cover my mouth with my hand, the unholy noises escaping me growing too loud for us to stay secret. James disapproved, “Mmmm, don't do that baby, let me hear you cum around my cock,” He cooed, and that was all the encouragement I needed to come over the edge, a high pitched moan coming from me, feeling my walls clamp down on James’ length, pulsating as waves of pleasure cascaded over me. James helped me ride through it, still rubbing my sensitive nub, his thrusts losing rhythm as he approached his own high.
“Fuck, sweetie, gonna cum inside you…” He grunted, his pace increasing as his movement became erratic with pleasure. “Take it, take it like a good girl, baby,” He moaned, his load shooting deep inside of me and painting my walls white with his seed. His hips sputtered, bucking into me as he collapsed on top of me, our sweaty foreheads clinging together as we both recovered from the intense orgasms, trying to catch our breath. James pressed soft, lazy kisses around my face, reminding me how much he loved me and how he'd never hurt me again if given the chance.
After a moment, we both had come down from our highs, James’ softening member sliding out of me with a pop. He looked down at the mess between my thighs, all evidence of our pleasure with each other. “Youre fuckin’ perfect,” He muttered, his eyes dragging over me.
“Are the groupies still better?” I teased him, remembering our bickering that was one real, or so I thought it was real fighting.
“Oh, hell no, they don't stand a chance to this,” He responded with a smile, and I smiled back.
We cleaned up, slipping back on our clothes so we were somewhat presentable. Only now did the realization that we were never once alone in this studio and the rest of the band was outside had hit me. A wave of embarrassment flowed over me, my cheeks flushing even more than they were before given the previous activities. Both James and I looked quite disheveled, our hair a mess and clothes wrinkled. I tried to shake off whatever nervousness I had in me as James put his arm around me. We went to reach for the door handle, only to find out it was still locked. Now it would be even more awkward. James knocked on the door from the inside, calling out to Lars, or anyone else in the studio.
“Guys? Lars? Can someone unlock the door?” And it wasn't long before footsteps approached, hearing a key click as the door swung open, Lars, more curious than ever eyed both my own and James’ appearance, noticing the hickeys, the slight wobble I gave, and any other imperfections that we might have displayed.
“I take it you two worked things out?”
— — — — > A FEW WEEKS LATER…
It had taken some time, a lot of talking, and more than just one hook up for James and I to work out any other issues that we had with each other. We met up a lot in the recent weeks after that, discussing different ways on how to help James with his drinking, and just trying to regain eachothers trust.
Soon enough though, James had moved back in with me. I kept my office space, but now the room was split in two halves. I worked in one half, while James did his guitar work in the other half. It was a fairly large room, so we both had our own spaces and rarely bothered each other. If I had a work call or anything that required silence, James would just migrate to the living room.
It was the same old schedule we had all those months ago, and I was now returning from work. It was Friday, now I would have plenty of time to relax and be with James. I pulled into the driveway, parking and getting out of my car as I walked up to the porch, the click of my heels following my steps on the cement. The lights were on, the door unlocked. I could hear a faint strumming coming from inside, meaning James was hard at work on new material for the album. It was my favorite thing to listen to while doing work assignments at home.
I walked in with a huff, setting down my purse and keys on the counter before heading to the shared office space. James wasn't playing much, just sounded like scales and chords for his warm ups. “How was work, baby?” James greeted me, still focused on his guitar. “It was a bit tiring, but it was good. I think my boss is starting to like me,” I answered, settling into my chair. He nodded in response, going back to fiddling with the strings.
It wasn't until a little later a soft, sweet and melodic tune had hit my ears. Much different than what Metallica normally plates. James hummed along to it, almost like he had lyrics already written out. But knowing him, he probably did.
“What are you playing? It sounds really nice,” I started, listening to a few more notes before continuing, “It's not what you guys normally play,” I commented, and James let out a deep hum in response. “Just something new I'm working on,” He replied, and I nodded, getting back to work.
Only this time, I couldn't focus. Normally James’s music helped me to focus, becoming a comforting background noise. This time though, I couldn't get my mind off of that melody. He kept going, and each second I kept getting more and more captivated by it.
“That songs really pretty, I like it,” I said, scribbling down whatever notes I couldnt on a piece of paper. “Thanks, it's actually, uhm..” He trailed off, and I knew something was up. I spun around in my chair, going to face him. “It's what?” I asked, confused by his shy demeanor.
“It's called ‘Nothing Else Matters’,” He stated, finally stopping picking at the strings. “Nothing Else Matters?” I repeated, connecting whatever the lyrics might be in my head to the melody. Normally their slower, melodic songs were dark and heavy topics, so I expected the same with this one.
“Yeah,” James answered, “I wrote the lyrics about you, actually,” He muttered softly, though I still picked it up. “About me?” I questioned, slightly shocked. “Yeah… I've thought a lot about, well, everything recently. Ever since that point a few months back I've reflected and everything… Rumors spread, and I just want everyone out there to get the right idea,” He paused, searching for the right words, “I want people out there to know that you're all I care about, you mean more than the world to me, and I want everyone to know that,” He stated, his tone true and emotional. I had never heard him say sweeter words to me, and I knew that he was speaking nothing other than the truth, I could see it in his eyes, there's a way to read people, and James wasn't easy to read, but you soon could learn the lingo.
“That means a lot to me, Jamie,” I answered, smiling at him. I got up from my chair to sit next to him on the couch, leaning against him. “Thank you,” I said, kissing him on the cheek. “You don't need to thank me, sweetheart,” James responded, wrapping his arm around me.
And now, I knew my whole world was whole again. What was once hatred, or so I thought was hatred, was once again love, everything as it should be.
#metallica fanfiction#j4h7#metallica smut#metallica x reader#james hetfield smut#james hetfield x you#James hetfeild x reader]#James hetfield#metallica#Metallica fanfic#this is so long#I love you annon#James hetfeild fanfic#megadeth#metal#Metallica x you
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going on a date tonight
i’ll let y’all know how many times i bring up greta
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Chef greg delivery just for you. it's a wonder I hadn't bearified him yet, he's my fave greg too 🔪
gays literally only want one thing (to be chopped up and eaten by a depressed man) and it's fucking disgusting
#kabukeo#something to bear in mind#other's art#limbus company#project moon#lcb gregor#r.b. sous chef gregor#namesake#i'm sorry for doing a haha funny joke reply i just like#i spent like ten minutes pacing around my house when i saw this in my inbox i'm not exaggerating#thank you for my life i love him so bad#do i need a gift art tag now i just like. i don't even know what to say#i haven't even made any actual proper posts yet i just made a silly blog i feel like i haven't done anything to earn this#to stop myself from blubbering i'm just going to respond to the tags on your rb#no problem for providing details again i think about this grown ass fucking man too god damn much but it's not a problem.#problems are only problems if you call them a problem. it's not a problem.#thank you for seeing the vision on rhino geg.#since kjh refuses to release him that just means that we can continue to acknowledge this as true and canon and there's nothing he can do#[ignore that he has a cameo in a card in game no he doesn't]#to me rosespanner is like. very much the type of guy that when you're crushing on him you try to talk to him#and then you get him to start talking about stuff he's interested in#and then before long you end up agreeing to watch something you don't care for in the slightest#solely for the purpose of having something in common to talk with him about#meanwhile he doesn't pick up on you trying to flirt with him like at all#anyway i could go on about how badly i need hex nail gregor for both bear reasons and thematic Actual reasons#but i'm pretty sure i'm about to hit the tag limit. so i'll just say thank you again for the cannibal i will treasure him forever and alway#it took me like thirty minutes to type this all out after i sat down to actually do it because i kept getting embarrassed lmao#offerings to beargregor#< gift art tag#that's it. thank you for my life once again. keep fighting the good fight soldier. we'll get this to be common fanon one day. trust.
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alhaitham is such a lying liar who lies dude. acting like he and the sumeru boys gang have always been besties since forever. "that's how it's always been with the four of us" - man who has barely spoken to most of these people before he decided to team up with them to overthrow the government and regularly skips social gatherings with them. yeah right buddy ok
#explicitly said that he's barely spoken to cyno before when they clash in the archon quest#will literally just skip or show up late when they do meet up#very notably had a huge falling out with kaveh that ended with them not speaking for years#does he even talk to tighnari?? like one on one???? do they hang out????#i stg kaveh and tighnari are the glue holding the whole situation together#the other 2 are just off to the side being autistic#well cyno actually tries to be social alhaitham doesnt give a fuck lmao#alhaitham after speaking to people that do not annoy him about once a month: 'hmm. i love my best friends'#he adopted a status quo and now simply pretends there has never been a different one#hes so fucking funny#genshin fans who try to make him some kind of big dick sexyman you are so wrong hes a silly goofy clown to me#on a more serious note i do actually much prefer the interpretation of this being a friendship they formed as adults#and everyone involved has different levels of closeness with each other#rather than making them all mutual best friends with each other (even since school sometimes). i think thats a lot more interesting#and canon is weirdly ambiguous about it so shrug#like the current friend groups as it is seems to be a relatively recent formation based on canon bits but then the writers lean into it#so hard as their Thing its a bit odd. but also fun to play with. they dont need to have always been friends to be close
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Jayce telling vi she won't make it on her own.... okay mr. projector...
#viktor just turned his body into the arcane and you dont even know!!! his leg is purple!!!!#im not going to excuse vi for saying the kid knew what he was getting into bc he didn't bc he is a kid (here we have ms. projector)#but telling jayce he has always been complicit of this he just didnt have to see it... yeah exactly.#and like she obviousky regrets the kid dying but it was jayces fault lmao why does he blow up on her??? the name calling got to him#jayce thinking omg he is going to off himself and viktor just trying to hide the evidence of his murder akdhsksj well yes he does want to...#i was wondering why the council was so Flabbergasted about the nation of zaun?? like they dont care and basically dont intervene#in the undercity bc they don't have any interest or profit in there. they don't gain anything at all from there.#so of course when silco asks jayce says sure fuck it. the only thing the council needs from zaun is the gemstone and its not even theirs#it's probably just fear of agression towards piltover as another nation and not something they can control or repress#silcos reaction to cait being wheeled in akdhaksj it sounds like he said 'what' he probably didnt know the girlfriend part... understandable#i forgor about her bringing the platter out... like ofc i didnt forget it but i didnt see it coming there. with bad memory you can be#surprised every time you watch the same show 👍🏻#i haven't cried because well the foruth time is a stretch now to cry but i still got chills at the end with the missile impacting....#and like whay would have happened if cait didn't free herself.... like ofc she would have bc everyone in that room could have killed her#not vi etc etc but she did just leave her so who knows really#anyways the monsters appearing in jinxs vision when vi mentions her past family is so poignant to her change.... they dont have the intended#reaction vi meant.... and silco is trying to shut her up for jinx's sake and look what happened to him. like vi really couldn't understand#her sister now and maybe back then either.... like not to be a silco apologist but it seems like he was the only one who could handle her#maybe im exaggerating but it would have gone wrong either way i think like no matger how much love there is in between them#idk man its so bad. like maybe this could have been avoided but it would have gone wrong in a different way for sure#and this couldn't have been avoided#talking tag#watching arcane#three weeks away still.... what now....
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some people will be all about mental health awareness and leftist ideals of at least tolerating the mentally ill who show ''ugly'' symptoms until it's someone they know and ''care'' about having a bad day and acting like it in a way they don't find appealing
#[temporary text post tag]#vagueing about irls#everybodys your friend until one time youre too tired to act right after getting yelled at first thing in the morning#worst thing is i trusted her enough to tell her shit none of my other friends know about#liek i genuinely believed we were friends and i wasnt just an accessory so she wouldnt feel lonely and could vent to someone about whatever#now im really wondering if all the shit she told me about other people was real or if she just ditched them as well after they-#- acted emotionally in a way she didnt like#like im sorry people have bad days and sometimes act in none cutesy ways#at this point idk if the few times i did tell her im feelin like shit she took it seriously or just thought i was joking#im kinda assuming the second one#like she did feel and act fairly progressive - she'd often talk about acceptance and understanding#i don't even think she sees this situation as dropping a 'freind'#she's prolly gonna find a way to justify it somehow idk#point is im hurt and need a drink#she even vaguely texted me like 'if someone you knew hurt someone you care about would you try to fix it with them or just block them?'#like not even confront me and say 'you hurt someone i care about so now im ending things'#or just tell me to fuck off or call me a piece of shit#i feel after a year and all of the 'youre a good friend' shit that maybe i was at least entitled to a 'fuck off kys' text and then a block#i shouldve dropped her first - save us both some time#honestly i dont even think she thinks about this at all#im probably just sulking like a kicked dog while she does whatever the fuck it is she does#she probably didnt even care about my side of the story#why would she#honestly she always did most of the talking#i was just there to listen and sometimes make a joke for her to laugh at i guess#like i didnt know i was signing up for a '1 strike and youre out' type deal lmao
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Thinking about how people tend to pick up on specific words from other languages they're learning (especially slang) and use it over and over, like Pac saying "Shenanigans" or Fit saying "Fofoca" or Phil (and the rest of the server practically) saying "No Mames."
It just reminds me of my time working with Japanese college students, and how they all suddenly started saying "Awesome!" practically every other sentence one day after hearing me say it + explaining what it meant to them. It still makes my heart melt a bit thinking about it.
#i talk#I MISS MY STUDENTSSSSSSSSSSSSSS#I MISS WORKING WITH JAPANESE STUDENTS I MISS MY COLLEGE STUDENTS#AGH#anyways I'm trying to wrap up chapter 3 of Love will cost you an arm and a leg tonight so it can be posted tomorrow#I'm fixing up the ending but things are looking promising#qsmp talk#I suppose#It was so cute though I think I explained it like:#''Awesome is a bit like すごい! You say it when you think something is really cool or if you're excited / happy about something''#Not to brag (I'm gonna brag) but I was the favorite mentor / teacher in the group#One of the students said they really appreciated the way I spoke with them#Because I always spoke clearly and at a good pace for them to follow along#But I was willing to give them Japanese translations (or approximate translations) if they were struggling#it made me feel all warm and fuzzy#Anyways this moment made me realize I do say ''Awesome'' a lot lmao#It's a good word what can I say
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one of these days i'm going to write up all that i've changed from azzarello's bullshit era and the one (1) piece i've kept from milligan (and also changed) and the only thing currently stopping me is that it is going to be so, so inside-baseball incomprehensible. and i almost never want to go reading/screencapping azzarello and milligan to add references but i Want to add references.
canon is goop, just know that we continue to ride the bus down "hellblazer ended at #250 and looks like swiss cheese before that" street.
#( ooc. ) OUT OF CIGS.#i'm doing page maintenance before i fuck off to work rip it's got me thinking#anyway i think i said WAY back on this blog that a side goal of mine is to make hellblazer lore accessible to non-comic readers where i can#bc it's such a Heavy comic & i love it so much & i always felt Terrible recommending it to people only for them to be disgusted#and like. @ past me that particular goal is NOT as easy as you thought it would be lmao#esp because i have a habit of getting VERY detail-oriented when it comes to talking about hellblazer i think#but by GOD it's still a goal. i can put in some motherfucking references here and there when i talk about The Lore#like. azzarello's writing style never translates well for me in synopsis bc he Loves to put the audience in the outside perspective#where we are bystanders/with the rest of the bystanders to constantine's actions and not to his motivations/inner monologue#and i HATE that. hellblazer has ALWAYS been about what this guy has going on underneath the masked exterior#all the things you can't say out loud when you're queer and working class trying to survive in 70s-80s-90s england#but that you FEEL with your WHOLE fucking chest. how that feeling drives you to enjoy little rebellions wherever you can get them#(also azzarello just fucking Sucks LMAO but i'm talking style rn)#so i end up relying on frusin's art to tell the story a little more bc i think he understands the Theatre of constantine's public persona#and when that theatre is Absent then it's really REALLY noticeable. so frusin keeps me in it most of the time#and if i'm digging into frusin art then i'm Going to want to compare it to older panels bc i like body language consistency#milligan on the other hand has NOTHING to save his sorry ass bc his writing is drop-jaw fucking terrible AND the artist seems to like it#but the loss of john's thumb being tied to his mental health (ignoring the bullshit with shade) has always felt. important to me somehow id#anyway MUCH thinking about my favorite loser on this about-to-be-annoying day shdjksd he has been done so dirty#hellblazer brain go brrrr
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siiiiiiigh
#i am in fact a grown adult who is still incapable of talking about their feelings and thoughts to people so I'll just rant here#my relationship with my mother is. so weird. it's not always bad but it always ends up bad for one reason or another#she can be perfectly civil and i'll still be irritated. other times i do try to tolerate it and engage and she ends up saying something#upsetting to me either way.#i don't want to keep being rude to her i don't want to get mad and annoyed all the time but i just can't stop. it's always like this#and i hate myself for it and i hate her and i hate everything about it#today i was leaving for work and she was like. i'll take the trash out of your room and i told her not to do it. she kept insisting and i#had to raise my voice at her to maybe get the point across to get her not to touch anything#and yes my room is a fucking mess and it is something to be embarrassed of. i just feel so fucking tired all time time and i keep tellin#myself that i will clean it this time for sure and then i don't. most of the time it's my mother taking care of it without my permission#and i am grateful for it bc nobody likes living in a mess... but i also fucking hate it because it makes me feel even more worthless#i just can't get rid of the feeling of shame. no matter what i do.#and back to the mother thing. i told her that if she touches anything i will go to her room and throw out anything that isn't nailed down#even though objectively i have no reason to oppose her helping me#but i also fucking hate it#maybe being rude is the only way to get it across. but also i get irritated about anything so easily#i feel shittier and shittier every day. had there been an easy and painless way of killing myself i would have done it already#and despite how much i want to blame this on a disorder or lack of access to medication. there is no magic pill that would fix me is there#i'm just a shitty person who cannot get it together despite everything being handed to me#i'm literally bad at anything and everything. i'm not even a good blogger lmao#people have it much worse in life and still do better. me? i'm useless. there's no helping it. i should have died from covid or something#nobody will save me. nobody cares enough. besides one person whom i push away because i can't stand her and i don't even know why 👍#if i stop messaging people first most of them would forget about me#i am alone. a lonely person in a messy room desperately trying to be entertaining so someone will pay a little bit of attention to me.#not to mention the geopolitics#i won't even go there. i hate the possibility that people might see it mentioned and give me shit for it#one more thing that is apparently my fault. directly or indirectly#all i want is to leave this country. spend the day with someone who cares for me like an actual friend. and then shoot myself so i don't#have to go back#sealene.txt
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I SWEAR I KEEP TRYING TO DO ART BUT THEN SOMETHING GETS IN THE WAY AND THEN I PROCRASTINATE AND THEN SIX MONTHS PASS
#this has been happening for like TWO YEARS BUT I SWEAR TO GOD I AM TRYING.#my usual art motivation (my webcomic idea) has been put on hold for a bit and because of that i forgort... everything#my will to draw specifically#but in my defense i have been writing k*arlach / oc indulgences and i've been VERY focused on finishing it#i also got a marketing manager (my friend <3) to help with advertising my comms and stuff so uh... look forward 2 that#i might need to start posting all of my art on a sideblog so she doesn't have to log into my main though#so there might be some changes#but i promise i want to do art!!!! but there's always something to do first and then months pass :(#or i get the urge to draw and then life is like ''have a cancer scare'' lmao...#(ended up being cancerous actually </3 but because it's skin stuff it was easy to remove)#(but that really took the piss out of me for most of july... not to mention that ffxiv released a new expansion and i have been...#having a good time with my new friends doing content and stuff!) i also made a friend irl after like 3-4 years of total isolation#we feed ants and watch them move around together and comment on their behaviour patterns...#but like when i say this takes literal hours.#we just sit out there and talk about random shit and watch ants walk across the floor. both of us hate ants btw.#like we don't like having them ON us so it's a bit like playing with fire.#but anyways yeah i've also been really low energy recently too bc of the heat and burnout from college...#but the good news is that i'm transferring in fall to a much more relaxing college & courseload!#i'm hoping it'll stop me from feeling so... awful ?? i guess ??#like i was taking classes i didn't need to that were really difficult & punishing#not to mention extremely boring & hard to pay attention to when dealing with literally anything. i did not want to be there.#my next college is much more interest-oriented so i will finally be able to take classes i want to and learn from them...!#and then maybe i will feel a bit more in control of my life / more encouraged to draw#anyways thank u for reading my ramble. hoping it all comes together soon.#i need to do a lot of work but most of it is so i can sell commissions again#but once the karlach fic is done we're so back on the webcomic train !!!!!!!!
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someone really should be talking about how difficult it is to plan a wedding - a gay wedding - when both of your families fucking suck
#who is talking about this!!!! let me know#idk i have 0 expectations for my family but they still somehow always manage to let me down which#i was anticipating#and i didn’t think i would care because i have never cared before#but liiiiiike.#i wasn’t expecting to feel sad rofl but my family is so fucking flaky. again i KNOW THIS i know i cannot rely on any of them#it’s annoying when i have given them a year and a half to make plans and i have had so many people tell me they would be there#just to back out or ghost or come up with some excuse#like do you know how expensive weddings are 😭 JUST fucking be honest with me and rsvp no#anyway i was very intentional with the few family members i did invite#and specifically invited people i have a rapport with / had a good (ish lol) relationship with growing up#people i have bent over backwards trying to please!!! and dropping everything to help them out#and they can’t even be bothered to communicate with me lol it’s fine. like. i do feel like it’s internalized homophobia at this point#or maybe they have hated me this entire time which is totally plausible#but they KNOW how much ayesha means to me and knows that no one from her family is coming to our wedding#at the end of the day it’s going to be like. 5 people from my family 1 from ayesha’s (her brother) and like 30-40 friends#which i am so grateful for obviously#i sound like such a brat but it’s also like - watching your family continuously choose drugs/alcohol over showing up for you - lol#AGAIN i’m used to this and expected as much but i’m still feeling bad#just rsvp so i can move on with my life please. stop telling me you’re trying to make it work when we both know you aren’t#i have so much more to say but i’m going to sound crazy even though i knooooow it is homophobia like i Know it#i think there are certain people i will finally go no contact with for good after this#which is a freeing thought but i only invited v few family members to begin with. there’s abt to be no one left lmao#probably for the best#ugh whatever#again i can’t help but feel a certain way when they have done more/traveled further for relatives they hardly know#meanwhile i was forced to spend so much of my life living for these people and for them alone#AAAAAAAA i just want to scream#text
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man i knew it was going too smoothly
#went from appointment to bloodwork to prescription for T in less than a week#and now i'm in insurance hell trying to get it covered so i can go pick it up and start my boy journey more thoroughly#but! it's not even that insurance doesn't want to give me the boy gel!#i called them ahead of time to see if I had to do anything for them to cover it - and the answer was just have my doctor send a form in#so i did that and then went on vacation expecting boy gel when i got back#but no! insurance never got the form and the phone tag between them and the doctor and the pharmacy i had to do to confirm this was wild#but hopefully doctor will resend the form it will go through and i will have t by the end of the week#fingers crossed anyway#the upside of this is that i have only had a pleasant time talking to insurance on the phone?#i may have shit coverage but by god is their customer service good#minus the continued ''ma'am''s even after confirming the prescription i was calling about was for testosterone lmao#worst case is they end up not covering it and i pay out of pocket - which isn't terrible and i'll do it but paying less is always nice#but also i would have liked to just know that and have gone and got my goddamn boy gel already#i don't talk about my personal trans stuff here very much but i should make a tag in case i do more of it#what do i want that tag to be tho#boy stuff#yeah ok i'm going to commit here and now to ''boy stuff'' lol
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so funny civilization . im friends with 6/7 of the other leaders and the one guy im not friends with looks like this in the diplomacy panel
#he took one of my friends capitals and hes always being bitchy. so... now hes gone#he literally. omg#so my friend (venice) was like Omg lets go to war with carthage and i was like umm ok ig. i think i was in a different war#idr but i ws like 10 turns#and then shaka comes in and is like hey do u wanna go to war againdt dido with me#n i was like.. ummm ya im going to . 10 turns and stuff . and he was like okay#so then it happens and HEEE HAS THE GALL to have a negative 4 me for Early concerns about my warmongering. YOU ASKED!!!#he also was mad at me for 'building new cities too fast' <- i had 3/4 . he had 5..... so....#anyways. then he like wtvr#anyways then like my friend arabia was still rly mad at carthage 4 a while#like a thousand years or something lmao and then they stopped bjt then a bit later kamehameha and shaka started a war#but nobody asked for my help and i was busy gathering all my troops in my capital to see who i should keep and who i should kill#n i also was dealing with venice bc UGH venice became catholic and is trying to wipe out delta nu (our religion (im playing with lamp)) and#being so annoying w his fuck ass prophets but were still friends#well. me and lamp have been calling the whole thing The polycule bc i accidentally said 'maybe we could have sort of a fourway'#while talking abt a potential alliance between 4 of them . which happened. and then ya and atuff#anyayas so i ended up taking one of shakas citys and then i took back honolulu and gave it back#and then i gave the zulu city i took to kamehameha bc his ass is closed in on the map and he had some settlers that got captured by#barbarians in the middle of this whole mess which i helped him woth ofc. but he started a city in the worsttt place bc hes so trapped in#that corner of the continent 😭😭#but anyways ya now were all chill.
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